Chapter 2 - THE DOCTOR WHO HAD NEVER SEEN HER
Dr. Samuel Larkin’s office occupied the fourth floor of a private medical building in Georgetown.
Eleanor arrived without an appointment.
Nurse Bennett walked beside her.
Marian Bennett had served as Eleanor’s private nurse after a minor heart procedure two years earlier. Officially, she visited three mornings each week to monitor blood pressure and medication. Unofficially, she had become the only person in Whitmore House Eleanor trusted completely.
At the reception desk, a young woman looked at Eleanor’s photocopied medical evaluation and lost the color in her face.
“Dr. Larkin is with a patient.”
“I will wait,” Eleanor said.
“I’m not sure when he’ll be available.”
“Then I will wait until tomorrow.”
The receptionist disappeared through a side door.
Thirty seconds later, Dr. Larkin entered the lobby.
He was in his early sixties, with thin gray hair and the anxious eyes of a man accustomed to looking over his shoulder.
“Mrs. Whitmore.”
“You recognize me.”
“Of course. Everyone recognizes you.”
“Have we met?”
“No.”
Eleanor handed him the evaluation.
He scanned the first page.
His hands began to shake.
“Where did you get this?”
“In my dining room.”
“This is not valid.”
“It carries your signature.”
“I did not sign it.”
“Look again.”
He studied the final page.
“That resembles my signature, but I did not write it.”
Nurse Bennett stepped closer.
“Your license number is correct.”
“Yes.”
“The clinic address is correct.”
“Yes.”
“The report describes tests you routinely perform.”
Dr. Larkin looked toward the receptionist.
“Close the office.”
She locked the front door.
Dr. Larkin led Eleanor and Marian into a consultation room.
Once the door was shut, he lowered his voice.
“Two months ago, a man approached me about serving as an independent evaluator in a family competency dispute.”
“What man?”
“He said his name was Graham Pike.”
Eleanor and Marian exchanged a glance.
“What did he want?” Eleanor asked.
“An examination of an elderly business owner.”
“Did he tell you my name?”
“Not initially.”
“Did you agree?”
“I agreed to review medical records if the patient consented.”
“And then?”
“He sent a file.”
Dr. Larkin sat behind his desk.
“The file contained memory test results, medication records, and reports of disorientation. Your name appeared on the second page.”
“Were the records genuine?”
“I don’t know. I refused to continue.”
“Why?”
“Because the test dates were impossible. One of the evaluations claimed to have taken place at my clinic on a Sunday. We are closed on Sundays.”
“Did you contact the police?”
“I contacted Mr. Pike and told him the file appeared fraudulent.”
“What did he say?”
Dr. Larkin hesitated.
“He reminded me that my clinic had recently received a large charitable grant.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“From the Whitmore Foundation?”
“Yes.”
“I did not approve a grant to this clinic.”
“It came through a medical innovation fund.”
Eleanor knew that fund.
Richard chaired its distribution committee.
Dr. Larkin opened a drawer and removed an envelope.
“After I refused, this arrived.”
Inside was a photograph of Dr. Larkin leaving a restaurant with a young woman.
“My daughter,” he said. “The message on the back said they knew where she lived.”
Eleanor turned over the photograph.
Three words were written in black ink.
Cooperate or explain.
Nurse Bennett’s expression hardened.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I was afraid.”
“You allowed someone to forge a diagnosis,” Eleanor said.
“I never gave them permission.”
“But you remained silent.”
Dr. Larkin lowered his head.
“Yes.”
Eleanor placed the photograph back in the envelope.
“Silence is how men like Richard build power.”
The doctor looked up.
“You think your son-in-law is behind this?”
“I think he believes I will soon be unable to stop him.”
“What will you do?”
Eleanor looked toward Marian.
For the first time that morning, she smiled.
“I will let him believe he is right.”
On the drive home, Marian kept both hands tight around the steering wheel.
“You’re planning something.”
“Several things.”
“You should call federal investigators immediately.”
“With one forged document?”
“With a threatened doctor.”
“Dr. Larkin will deny everything once Richard’s lawyers contact him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know fear.”
Rain began striking the windshield.
Marian turned onto the long road leading toward Whitmore House.
“What are you suggesting?”
“We need proof Richard cannot explain away.”
“What kind of proof?”
“His voice. His actions. His own decisions.”
“You want to record him.”
“I want him to reveal himself.”
Marian glanced at her.
“That could be dangerous.”
“Richard has already forged a diagnosis and arranged a future declaration of incompetence.”
“Which means he may be more dangerous than you think.”
Eleanor looked through the rain at the dark outline of her house.
“That is why we must know how far he is willing to go.”
When they entered the house, the foyer was empty.
Richard and Caroline had not returned.
But Eleanor noticed something unusual on the second-floor landing.
The portrait of her late husband hung slightly crooked.
Eleanor climbed the staircase and lifted the frame.
May you like
A tiny camera had been installed behind it.
Its lens pointed directly at her bedroom door.
