No Team To Root For (13) Barrett took one final look around him, then drove off into the moonless night headed for his final destination. * Ten minutes after Barrett left, there was another knock on Jodi's door. She put down her toothbrush and walked to the door shaking her head disgustedly. "Now what, Barrett? I swear I --- " She opened the door part way and Aaron Claypool kicked it open the rest of the way. His hair was a mess and his soiled white shirt was half out of his pants. He walked towards her. The familiar smell of alcohol added to her fatigue brought a strong but brief wave of nausea. "Did you really think you could get rid of me that easily?" He backed her into the apartment then slammed the door shut. "Aaron, you've been drinking. Please don't --- " "And after all we been to each other." Aaron said as he walked past her to the bedroom. She followed him. "Aaron, listen to me. Please!" He yanked out the top drawer to her nightstand. The wood split and the contents flew everywhere. He quickly took out the .22 cali-ber Baretta pistol and put the barrel against her chin. Jodi screamed. "Didn't know I knew your hiding place, did you?" Now she was backed up against the wall. He smiled menacingly. His eyes resembled two plums and his teeth weren't as white as they used to be. "Aaron --- please --- " She closed her robe as tight as she could. "I saw your doctor friend leave." Jodi absently glanced through the open doorway at the broken watch Barrett had left. She was sure Aaron hadn't seen it. "Did you two have a --- quickie?" Jodi couldn't move. She felt like a giant ice cube. None of her body parts seemed to function. When she spoke her words were as slurred as Aaron's. "You --- you have to listen to me." His smile turned to a snarl. "I don't have to do shit, baby!" He pressed the barrel harder. "You --- you have it all wrong, Aaron." she stammered. " Barrett is nothing to me. He's --- " "Is that the prick's name --- Barrett?" "Please put the gun away." She was shaking all over. "You're making a big mistake." "Am I?" He put the gun up to her ear. "You must think I'm a fucking moron!" As he spoke discolored saliva ran down his chin. Jodi shook her head "No, Aaron --- I --- " "I told you I would fucking kill you before I give you up!" Jodi broke away for an instant intent on reaching the front door or a window or anywhere away from this spot. She barely got by him when he reached out with his powerful arm and grabbed the front of her robe. Then he threw her against the wall. She felt like hundreds of knives were sticking her all over her back. She screamed again. Aaron put the gun to her temple with incredible speed and pulled the trigger. Her head jerked and then seemed to explode. She was dead before she hit the floor. Aaron stared for a long time as the body became a distorted heap. Then he knelt down and carefully laid the weapon next to her hand. He stood up slowly and studied Jodi's bloody head as a first year medical student would study a cadaver. "So long, Baby." Then he staggered out of the apartment cautiously looking in all directions. When he was certain no one had seen him, he quickly got into his Galaxy, removed his gloves and sped away. * At 10:55 pm Barrett Jessop entered his home. As the door slowly opened, a foreign creaking sound emerged from the unoiled hinge. Barrett stopped and listened. There was only silence. He closed the door as quickly and as quietly as he could. Again the hinge squeaked. And again he stopped and listened. He was still sur-rounded by silence. He turned the small latch until he heard the click. The house was dim and uncommonly quiet. The only light was from a ten-watt bulb he'd put in at the base of the wall in the entry-way. He took off his thin topcoat and slung it over a chair. Then he paused. Now he could hear the soft ticking of the kitchen clock. He began to inch closer to the stairway, finally pausing at the foot of the stairs --- waiting --- listening. Then he climbed the steps and accidentally stepped on a loose floorboard. It gave off a soft pop-ping sound causing Barrett to freeze in his tracks. Damn it! He waited again, silently, for several minutes. Then he proceeded slowly --- cautiously, toward the bedroom. The door was open. Barrett paused again. The faint ghostly glow of the ten-watt bulb gave Barrett all the light he needed. He entered the room quietly and stopped at the foot of the bed. Janet was sound asleep. Her raspy breathing and the pounding of his heart were now the only sounds he could hear. Janet was on her back, as usual. One of the two pillows she slept with was under her head. The other one was next to it. "You're right." whispered Barrett. "Divorce is not an option." He very calmly and very methodically picked up the stray pillow and carefully put it over Janet's face. Then he pushed down as hard as he could. Horrible muffled sounds began to erupt from beneath the pillow and Janet began to squirm violently --- her arms and legs moving wildly. He climbed on top of her, putting each of his knees on each of her arms. He had to stop the erratic movements. He pushed with all his might. He had no idea his wife was this strong --- but she was not quite strong enough. After what seemed like eons, Janet stopped fighting. But Barrett continued to hold the pillow over her face firmly for another ten minutes. He had to be certain he had done the job correctly. He knew he would never have another chance. Barrett finally removed the pillow, wet with Janet's saliva, and climbed down off the bed. His pulse was racing and he was sweat-ing profusely. "You've won all the battles." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "But you've lost the war!" The dim light cast an eerie shadow across Janet's lifeless face. She looks so peaceful, thought Barrett. Her glassy eyes were wide open, staring vacantly at the ceiling. Her limbs hung motionless over the sides of the bed. He closed her eyelids. Then he replaced the pillows and moved her arms and legs to a more normal position. Finally he smoothed out the wrinkled sheets to remove any sign of a struggle. He tried to be calm and collected. Hopefully, when old Doctor Marcus would come over early to-morrow morning, his diagnosis would be death by natural causes. How could there be any other explanation? Any idea that murder was a probable cause would be ludicrous. Who would want to kill Janet? Certainly not her loving and devoted husband! Barrett knew that a husband was usually the first suspect. But he was confident that this case would be an exception to the rule. 'She died in her sleep' would be what Doc Marcus would say --- 'probably a heart attack'. And when Barrett would refuse an au-topsy, which was his right, it would be case closed! Barrett now realized that using Jodi for an alibi may not have been necessary. He had overreacted. But he had to protect himself --- didn't he? If there were even one chance in a million that Janet's death might be ruled homicide, he had to show he was someplace. No one knew he was at home. Barrett could certainly not be in two places at once! Mrs. Purdy was an extra bonus. So far everything had gone according to plan. His pulse was returning to normal and his hands were remarkably dry. Barrett could not believe how calm he was! He looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was 11:30. It seemed to him that he had been home for hours --- but it was only 11:30! His phone call to Doc Marcus was not going to take place until 6:30 am. He had seven hours! He picked up the receiver to call Jodi. He dialed the first digit and hung up. "What do I say?" Hello, Jodi. I just killed my wife. I'm not married anymore. Are you more receptive now? "Forget it! I'll call her in the morning." And considering how tired she had looked, Barrett was certain she was sound asleep. He looked down at his hands. They were still steady. Way to go, Jessop! For the first time in his life Barrett Jessop felt in total command. He knew he had a tight grasp of things and no one was going to force him to back off. No one was going to make him feel like a piece of shit! Not this time! He closed the bedroom door and walked down to the family room. Then he set the seldom-used clock radio for 6:30 am. He lay down on the sofa and tried to sleep. "I could sleep with Janet tonight." thought Barrett. "What would be different?" He continued to think out loud. "I can sleep anywhere I choose. And I choose the family room." But whether his eyes were open or closed and no matter which direction he looked, all he could see was Janet's lifeless face. Damn it! Finally after two hours, he drifted off --- wearily. At 3:40 am Barrett Jessop awakened with a start. Or rather some-thing awakened him. What was it? He sat on the edge of the sofa and listened. He heard the same sounds he heard before: the creaks; the squeaks; the pops. They were sounds not usually no-ticed. But when they were surrounded by a deathly stillness, Barrett thought these noises sounded like explosions! Again he heard it. It was the sound that awakened him. Thump --- thump. Thump --- thump. What is it? Then it got louder. THUMP --- THUMP. THUMP --- THUMP. What the fuck ? It sounds like a --- heart beat. No way! Can't be! THUMP --- THUMP. THUMP --- THUMP. Barrett heard it coming from outside the family room. He listened more intensely. Then his eyes widened and he grabbed hold of the sofa. Holy shit! It's coming from the bedroom! THUMP --- THUMP. THUMP --- THUMP. Janet! Janet's heart beat? Absurd! Impossi-ble! Barrett stood up too quickly and almost passed out. I'm fucking hearing things! This is bullshit! Then he ran to the bottom of the steps and listened. It stopped. There were only the same house noises as before. Then silence. Whatever it was had definitely stopped. All he could hear now was his own loud and rapid heartbeat. What the hell was it? He stood at the foot of the stairs for fifteen minutes. There was only silence. Maybe it was a bad dream. Maybe it was a hallucina-tion. But whatever it was is gone. Thank God! Barrett walked back to the family room. His hands were clammy and not as steady as before. XV Now he was shaking. Why is it so cold in here? He covered himself with a blanket and curled up on the sofa. He prayed for sleep. He was so tired --- * At 6:30 am the alarm went off causing Barrett to almost jump off the couch. He slammed down the alarm button to still the strident sound and in doing so, knocked the clock radio off its stand. The events of the past eighteen hours suddenly returned and hit him like a July fourth rocket. Janet! Holy shit! He sat pensively for several minutes. Then he raised his head slowly and smiled sardonically. Freedom! Finally! He thought of Janet and his mood changed abruptly. His mind kept jumping back and forth between relief and sorrow. He looked at the telephone. He couldn't dwell on it right now. He had things to do. Jesus! It's cold in here! He had to call Jodi. He knew it was early, but --- . He let it ring ten times. There was no answer. Barrett replaced the receiver won-dering where she was at 6:45 am. At work? I'll call her later. He picked up the phone again and dialed. While he waited he put the clock radio back on the table. It took three rings. "Hello. Dr. Marcus speaking." "Sy, this is Barrett Jessop." His mouth was suddenly dry. He would have to speak slowly. He stood up unsteadily. "Oh yes, Barrett." Everyone in town would agree that Sy Marcus always answered the phone, day or night, as if he were sitting and waiting for your call. Barrett could practically see the smile at the other end of the line. "What can I do for you?" "Sy, something --- something happened to Janet." Barrett was go-ing to fake the pathos in his voice. He didn't have to. "Oh my." Sy sounded concerned. "I just got up and --- well --- could you please come over?" Bar-rett continued to speak slowly. "Well yes. Of course. Just let me wash my face and get my bag." Barrett wondered if his bag was by the phone. "Maybe you should call the emergency squad." "No, Doc. Janet is dead!" Barrett had to sit down. His mouth was still dry and now he felt clammy. Christ! What's the temperature in here? After a brief pause, Sy said, "I'll be right over." The click ended the conversation. Barrett then made his final call. All according to plan. There were six rings. "Hello." A drowsy voice answered. "Hello, Marie. It's Dr. Jessop." Barrett could feel his heart in his throat. "Dr. Jessop. Oh my --- " He heard her yawn. " --- it's so early. Is something wrong?" Barrett paused in an effort to catch his breath. "Janet died last night." "Oh my God!" Marie gasped. "I --- I got up a short time ago and she was in bed --- just lying there --- " Barrett cleared his throat repeatedly. He wanted a glass of water. "She must have had a heart attack --- or some thing. She died in her sleep." Barrett's body temperature continued to play games with him. Now his palms began to sweat and he had trouble holding the telephone. "Do you want me to come over?" Marie started to cry. Barrett knew he had to end the conversation quickly. "No, Marie. I'm okay." Actually I'm freezing! "Dr. Marcus is on his way over now." Barrett cleared his throat again. "There is something you can do for me." "Anything, Dr. Jessop." Marie continued to speak through her sobs. "Please call the following people for me." Barrett read off a list of names with everyone he could think of. "And tell Dr. Richardson that I'll call him tomorrow." He sat forward with his head against the palm of his hand. "Oh yes. I'll do it at once!" "And please! Under no circumstances are any of these people to call on me." The last thing Barrett wanted was a house full of peo-ple moping about and saying how sorry they were. "I will certainly make that quite clear." Then after a short silence, Marie asked casually, "What about the funeral?" The funeral! The thought brought a sudden gnawing sensation to the pit of his stomach. "I --- I don't know yet. But as soon as I do I'll give you all the details." Barrett couldn't stop shaking. "And please cancel my appointments until --- Tuesday --- maybe." "Oh yes. Of course. Is there anything else?" "No. Not really." Barrett wondered if the furnace was broken. "Just take care of the office until I get back." "You know I will." There was another pause. "Are you sure you're okay?" "Yes. Quite sure." Barrett took a deep breath. "Well --- goodbye, Dr. Jessop." The assistant sounded as drained as her boss. "And don't worry about a thing." "Goodbye, Marie." Now it was 7:15 and Barrett dialed Jodi's number again. His hand was trembling. No answer. This is strange! He would call the library later. Now he had to turn up the heat. At 7:30 am Dr. Sy Marcus entered Barrett Jessop's home. They shook hands warmly and Barrett led Sy, bag in hand, to the master bedroom. Syrus Marcus had practiced medicine in Patton since 1939. At seventy-eight, he was as spry and as alert as men half his age. Sy was short and stocky with a full head of thick white hair, a large red nose, bushy eyebrows and a ruddy complexion. The two professionals were never friends --- only acquaintances. But they referred to each other on a regular basis. Each man had great respect for the other, which Barrett hoped would weigh heav-ily in his favor. The first thing Sy did was to turn on the light in the bedroom. Then he slowly put down his bag and carefully studied Janet's corpse as she lay there face up --- just as Barrett had left her. Barrett tried not to look. But he had not seen Janet's body in the light and curiosity forced him to turn his head slowly in her direc-tion. He had to see. And he did! He saw the horrible ashen blue color of her distorted face. He saw the ghastly purple color of her quiet lips. She was very still. Barrett had seen to that. A sudden wave of nausea hit Barrett causing him to run to the bathroom, vomiting and retching until he thought there was no more left of his insides. Looking about the bathroom brought back the dreadful night he had urinated all over it. He was immediately riddled with severe pangs of guilt. Don't think about that. Not now! Barrett threw cold water on his face, took several deep breaths, and re-entered the bedroom. Sy was lifting Janet's eyelids --- just as gently as the eye doctor had closed them. He carefully examined her face and her fingers. His expression was cold and seemed void of emotion. Then he stood back rubbing his chin and nodding his head. His attention was still totally focused on Janet's lifeless body. What is he thinking? Why is he looking like that? Barrett was sweating profusely. Why is he just standing there? "Oh, Barrett." Barrett jumped. "Remind me to give you some samples of Composine." Sy then gently closed Janet's eyelids. "They should help the nausea and also relax you." Barrett kept shifting his gaze from the wall to Sy and from Sy back to the wall. He couldn't look at what used to be his wife any-more. He had had enough. He wanted this bizarre ordeal to end! "Barrett, you want to tell me about it?" Sy looked at the optome-trist. The two locked eyes. What the hell is that supposed to mean? "T --- tell you --- " "Yes. I want you to tell me what you told me over the phone. Hell! I'm seventy-eight years old. Sometimes I forget things." Barrett felt his stomach drop then rise back up. He breathed an audible sigh of relief. Then he proceeded to tell the physician his prepared prevarication of how he got up early this morning to find his loving wife just lying there. There was no pulse --- no sign of life. He was, of course, devastated! What would he do? How could he go on? He spoke slowly. His voice was filled with desolation. He slurred his words at times because of the slight tremor in his lips. Barrett felt certain that his story was plausible and genuine. Sy Marcus would not question one word of his professional colleague. And the anguish that showed through as he spoke would add fur-ther credibility to the tale. "Mmmm --- tell me. Did Janet have any sort of --- sleep disor-der?" Sy again turned his attention to Janet. The optometrist looked quizzically at Sy as he continued. "Some people with sleep disorders, especially severe ones, have actually stopped breathing during the night." Sy leaned over looking even closer at Janet. "It's called apnea." Barrett continued to be puzzled. "From what little I know about it, it only lasts a few minutes. And on rare occasions people have been known to --- die." He brushed Janet's eyelids lightly with his fingertips. "It would appear to me that she --- as-phyxiated." "Then it wasn't a --- a heart attack?" The thought of Sy Marcus coming up with another cause of death other than heart related had never occurred to Barrett. "Well --- it could be, but --- here. Look at her lips. If you can, that is. Never mind!" He squinted his eyes and went on. " Cyano-sis. Her lips are purple. Her skin is a sort of --- bluish. Blood be-comes depleted of oxygen. You don't have to look. Just take my word for it." Sy turned to Barrett. "Her lungs quit working and she just quit breathing --- in the middle of the night. Sorry, Barrett." Just as Barrett had hoped, the thought of foul play wasn't even a remote possibility. And now he suddenly saw an opportunity to help substantiate Sy's surprise diagnosis. "Well, Sy. Now that you mention it, over the past few months, Janet did sound peculiar when she was asleep. I heard funny snoring sounds like --- well --- what you just said." Barrett cleared his throat. "We talked about it once or twice in passing but neither of us paid much attention to it." He cleared his throat again. "Maybe she did have a breathing prob-lem. Maybe if we had acted sooner --- " "Those things are very difficult to treat." Sy interrupted. "So don't be too hard on yourself." The elderly doctor then slowly took hold of the sheet and pulled it over Janet's head. "Listen, Barrett." Doc Marcus came over to Barrett and sympathetically patted him on the shoulder. "Do you want an autopsy? That way we'll know for sure." "Sy, I'll tell you." Barrett spoke firmly. "I don't think I could go through the ordeal of an autopsy. I've had about as much trauma as I can handle." Barrett knew he was home free.
Go to part: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
Copyright © 1997 B J Bloch |