“Then one night, only a few hours after a surgical procedure, a nursing supervisor walked into the woman’s room and found Van Fleet on top of her.”

“On top of her?” Stone asked, unbelieving.

“He’d taken a syringe of morphine from a drugs cabinet, injected it into her IV, which immediately put her to sleep; then he had removed his clothes, had removed her clothes, and he was…copulating with her.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Indeed. I was summoned from my bed and told the circumstances. The actress was still sleeping peacefully, and Van Fleet, as you might imagine, was distressed at having been caught in the act. While they were waiting for me to arrive, he threatened the nursing supervisor if she reported him. She did, of course, and I made short work of young Dr. Van Fleet.”

“I can imagine.”

“The nursing supervisor cleaned up the patient and put her clothing in order, and no more was said about it. I should have called the police, I suppose, and had him charged with rape, but you see the position I was in: the papers would have had an absolute field day, the actress would have sued us—and won—and this hospital would have been done irreparable harm as a result.”

“And the actress never knew?”

Garfield shook his head. “I lived in fear for months that she would turn up pregnant—she didn’t, thank God. I’m not sure what I would have done if that had happened.” Garfield sighed. “You see why I’m concerned that this go no further.”

“I do, and I promise you it won’t.”

Garfield stood up and slipped out of his white coat. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to run now.” He got into his suit jacket. “I hope this story might somehow help you.”

“It might, Dr. Garfield, and I thank you for confiding in me.” He shook the doctor’s hand and turned to go.

“Mr. Barrington,” Garfield said, “whatever became of Van Fleet? What’s he doing now?”

“He’s a mortician,” Stone said.

Garfield gave a little shudder. “How very appropriate,” he said.

Chapter

47

When Stone woke on Thursday morning, his first thought was that only three days remained until Sasha’s dinner party. His second thought was that there was someone in his bathroom.

It could be only one person, he knew; she had a key, and she knew the code for the security system. He was flabbergasted and revolted that she should be in his house only days after her marriage, but his revulsion vanished when she came out of the bathroom.