A Guilty Mind Read Online Free PDF Page A

top floor closes at five and Mr. Tebow was still there I think, but his door was closed.”
    He made a note to have all the tenants in the building interviewed before the day was out. “Do you always leave at six?”
    â€œOh yes, every night. Dr. Michael and I usually walk out together, but Mrs. Michael was out of town, so he wanted to work late.”
    â€œDid he do that often?”
    â€œNo,” she said. “Only when Mrs. Michael wasn’t in town. They were very close.” She frowned, eyes welling again. “Has anyone contacted her yet? She’s going to be heartbroken.”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I believe she’s arriving at Ronald Reagan shortly.” Making a ­couple of quick notes, Detective Cancini changed the subject. “How many appointments did the doctor have yesterday?”
    â€œSeven,” she said, twisting her wedding ring. “He always sees seven a day.”
    â€œDid anything strange happen in those appointments?” Her head came up. “You know, like did anything unusual go on yesterday with any of his patients?”
    â€œNo,” Mrs. Watson said. “Not that I know of.”
    â€œWas he having any trouble with any of his patients?” It wasn’t privileged information, he reasoned, if the doctor had already confided it to his secretary. “Maybe any confrontations or anything he might have told you about?”
    â€œYou don’t think . . .” She hesitated, her eyes wide. “Maybe one of his patients killed him?”
    â€œI don’t think anything yet, Mrs. Watson. I’m only trying to find out about the doctor’s day. I may need to question anyone who had contact with the doctor yesterday.” When she was silent, he probed again. “Had he said anything about any patient giving him trouble or difficulty? Maybe someone was threatening him?”
    â€œWell, no, he didn’t say anything in particular. I mean, I noticed things sometimes, about certain patients, but Dr. Michael would never confide in me about his cases. He’s a real stickler for privacy and—­” She slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling another sob. The detective waited, nudging the tissue box once more. “Oh my God,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry. I just can’t believe he’s gone. It doesn’t seem real.”
    He waited a few minutes, then asked, “Did Dr. Michael wear glasses?”
    â€œHe had prescription reading glasses. They were gold.”
    â€œDid he need them to work?”
    Her brows drew together. “I think so. He wore them quite a bit.”
    â€œOkay.” Cancini made a note to follow up on the glasses, then asked, “Did he go out for lunch yesterday?”
    â€œHe picked up a sandwich and brought it back to the office.”
    â€œOkay. Did he go out for any reason later in the day?”
    Smitty interrupted then. He bent close to Cancini, keeping his voice low. “The wife’s on the phone, calling from the plane. She insists she needs to talk to the lead detective right away, won’t talk to anyone else.”
    Cancini rose. “Smitty, can you bring Mrs. Watson some more coffee?” To her, he said, “I need you to stay a little longer, okay? I won’t be long.”
    Cancini followed Smitty to the phone. “She may know something about a patient. See what you can find out.”
    â€œSure.” Smitty hesitated, then said, “By the way, the captain wants to see you as soon as you’re done.”
    Cancini’s eyes rolled. A dull pain thudded in his head. “Perfect.”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œIt’s not your fault.” He picked up the blinking line. “Cancini here.”
    â€œDetective Cancini.” She spoke fast, her voice husky. “This is Nora Michael. Are you the lead detective on my husband’s case?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I’m sorry about your husband.”