Mrs. John Doe Read Online Free PDF

from her bag, then felt around in the bottom of it and came up with two Band-Aids and an atomizer. She took his arm in one hand, dabbed the blood away from the scratch, and sprayed it. He winced.
    “Ow! What the hell is that?”
    “Chanel Number Five. Hold still.” She placed a wad of tissues against the cut and taped it in place with the bandages. “There, that’s the best I can do till we get to the hotel.”
    He sniffed the dressing. “I smell like a tart.”
    Nora laughed. “Well, a high-end tart, anyway. Here.” She found a tiny bottle and handed him two Advil gelcaps. He popped them into his mouth and swallowed.
    “Cheers,” he said. “Come on, let’s get out of this soup. Um, where are you staying?”
    “The Byron, in—”
    “I know where it is.” He retrieved her soaked beret from the ground and handed it to her, and they began to walk toward the park’s southwest entrance. “Are you traveling with people? I mean, is there someone at the hotel…”
    Nora stopped walking, and everything came back to her. She looked down at her left hand, at her wedding ring. “No, there’s no one. I just arrived from America this afternoon. My husband died here two nights ago, a car accident, and I’ve come to—to take him home. My name is Nora Baron.”
    “I’m sorry,” the young man said. They were silent for a moment. Then he said, “I’m Craig Elder. Well, me da’s Craig Elder, so I guess I’m Craig Elder the younger.”
    She smiled in spite of herself. “Irish?”
    “Through and through,” he replied, and he smiled too.
    “We’re from Donegal, originally,” she said, “but I’m a New Yorker. Pleased to meet you, Craig Elder.”
    “Likewise, Mrs. Baron.”
    “Nora,” she said, and they walked out of the misty garden together.

Chapter 6
    “Who was that character?” Craig Elder asked her.
    Nora looked over at him. They were at the corner of Gower Street, turning in the direction of the hotel, and this was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left the park. She thought of her acting training, arranging her features in what she hoped was blank surprise.
    “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.
    “Oh, come on.” He stopped walking, pressing his left hand against his damaged right sleeve, checking that the makeshift bandage was still in place under it. “I saw your face when you looked at him, and later, when he took off. You recognized him.”
    Yes, I did, she thought, but she merely shrugged and said, “I thought I recognized him for a moment, but I was wrong. I never saw him before. I have no idea who he is.” At least that last sentence was true. She wasn’t going to go into it all here, now, with this stranger.
    “Okay,” he said, and they began walking again, “but be careful with that purse.”
    She smiled. “I will. What do you do, Mr. Elder? I mean, when you’re not saving ladies in distress.”
    “Student,” he said. “In, um, Dublin. I’m here on summer hols, um, bunking with a mate who lives just off Russell Square. I run in that park every day, to stay in shape.”
    “Lucky for me that you do,” she said. “Dublin—would that be City University, University College, or Blanchett College?”
    He blinked. “Um, Blanchett. And you?”
    “I’m an actor,” she said, “and now I teach acting at a university in the States.” She didn’t add that she was enough of an actor to know that he’d just lied to her. He was too old to be a student, for one thing. He was in his late twenties, possibly early thirties. He was stammering, and he clearly didn’t know Dublin. There was no Blanchett College—she’d made it up on the spot and named it after her favorite movie star. The other two schools were real, but liars always went for the final choice in multiple choices. Jeff had told her that.
    She gave her champion a covert once-over. Six two, lanky but powerfully muscled, strong features dominated by intelligent gray eyes, full lips and good teeth, short