Chapter 8 - Jigsaw

Tuesday

Perry stared at the short message and for a moment his heart skipped a beat. His worst expectations had been confirmed and not for the first time he hated being right.

He took a closer look at the note. The ultimatum had been written with a typewriter. He was no expert, but the type face looked as if the used machine was older than the one Della was working with these days.

He gave her the note. "Would you say this was written with an old typewriter or a new model?"

Della sighed as she looked at the letters. "Definitely older. Maybe from the 70s."

"I thought so."

"The paper's heavy though," she continued as she turned the sheet back and forth. "It's certainly expensive and not what you use for your daily business correspondence."

"So we're looking for someone with expensive taste," he concluded, which only confirmed his list of suspects, but didn't reduce it.

"I guess, you're right."

"Della, do me favour and get Ellen on the phone," he said. "I need to see her asap. And after I've talked to her, you try to get hold of John Silver."

Della returned the letter and said, "Shouldn't we call Glen as well? He's Laura's husband after all and he knew about the threats."

"Maybe later," he answered. "First we need to know, if our culprit has contacted Ellen as well."

Della opened her mouth, but then she spared herself a comment. A lifetime of experience at his side told her, Perry was deeply lost in his thoughts and when his mind was processing something it was best not to disturb him.

#######

Wednesday

Ellen Robertson drew a deep breath when she stopped her car in front of Laura's house. She was either very foolish or very brave, but most likely an unfortunate mixture of both elements.

"Are you sure, you want to do this?" the man sitting in the passenger's seat asked.

"Yes, I think I am," she answered. "I want this to be over."

"There's another way, you know. You don't have to risk your life."

"You mean sending in the cavalleria?" She shook her head. "No, we stick to our plan."

"All right, so I'm waiting here for you then."

"Only, if you want to."

"And miss all the excitement?" he mocked her. "Not in a million years. I want to see how this bastard crawls out of the house on his knees."

Ellen smiled and bent over to kiss the man's cheek. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye about this, but thank you. I won't forget this."

He grinned. "I won't forget it either, but I think for a very different reason, but I've got your back."

#######

Wednesday, two hours earlier

Relieved to be done with it, Della left the office of Doctor Miller. All she could do now was wait for the test results, which meant now she could concentrate on the problems at hand. While she had been sitting in the waiting room she had watched a young couple playing with a baby. But it wasn't the admittedly cute child that had caught her interest. It had been the father, an air force officer - a good looking, tall major with a wide smile to be precise. Suddenly her memory carried her back to a day in 1957 when she had involuntarily watched Laura dancing with a man who wasn't Perry. That night she had been out with a friend and they had spent their evening in a popular bar crowded with military personnel. Laura hadn't noticed Della and Della had never confronted Laura about it. The incident had happened right before Laura and Perry had separated and even though Della had never spoken about her suspicion, she had always been wondering if that very soldier could have fathered Laura's daughter.

Silver had told them about an eight-digit-number Laura had constantly repeated during her therapy sessions. Didn't military service numbers consist of eight digits? It was a bit far-fetched, but the idea was now planted in her head and she had to find out if it could be true.

She reached her rented car, but when she saw a phone booth only ten feet away, she decided to make a phone call first. Time was of the very essence today and the sooner she told Perry about her theory, the better.

#######

Wednesday, around 12 o'clock

The house was silent, when Ellen unlocked the front door. On the surface the rooms looked as if nothing had changed since she had left the day before. Her heart raced in her chest as she strolled through the rooms, looking for someone or something. Sunshine fell through the windows and dust danced in the air. What if Laura wasn't here? What if this was another dead end?

Where is she?

Her senses were on high alert since she expected to be attacked any minute. Nothing happened though. A clock struck twelve o'clock and Ellen jerked around. She was still on her own. No attacker, no Laura, just the annoying sound of the clock, telling her the time had come.

High Noon indeed.

Her search ended in the living room. Laura was sitting on the couch and the first thing Ellen noticed about her was how dishevelled she looked. Laura was pale, slightly trembling, and a bandage graced her left temple.

Ellen, always on guard, approached her slowly. "Laura?" she asked carefully. "Are you okay?"

Laura's head jerked up, as if she were surprised to be addressed. "Ellen!"

"Yes, it's me. You must have been expecting me. I was ordered here by…. well, I guess the person who gave you that bandage." She pointed at Laura's temple.

Laura nodded slowly and raised her hand to touch the bandaged injury, which seemed to hurt once she felt it. "I know. He told me about it."

"Where's he?" Ellen asked and looked around, still expecting to be assaulted by someone lurking in the background.

"I don't know," Laura answered.

Ellen sat down opposite Laura. She placed a document folder she had brought with her on the coffee table between them.

"I have the file," Ellen said as she ran her fingertips over the folder. "And now I want answers."

"The file is meaningless," Laura explained. "I told him so, but he doesn't believe me."

Ellen bent forward, lowered her voice. "And who is he? Why is he doing this?"

Laura's answer was the shaking of her head. A minute passed. The clock struck once more.

"56897531," Ellen quoted when she couldn't stand the silence any longer. "He wants that number, doesn't he? He thinks it'll lead him to my father. It's his service number, isn't it?"

"Why would you think that?" Laura asked.

"It was Della Street who realized what the number could mean and so we called John Silver to help us. He was reluctant at first, but in the end he could never refuse me anything."

"The number won't lead you anywhere."

"Who is he?" Ellen asked once more. "Who did this to you? Who killed the Bishop and Elliot Moore?"

"It's Emmet, of course," Laura answered. "Emmet Michael's. Who else"

"Who else," Ellen repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Where is he?"

With her eyes focussing on a place somewhere behind Ellen, she said. "Over there."

Ellen jumped up, turned, but it was too late. Emmet Michaels wrapped his arm around her neck and suffocated her. His grip was merciless and Ellen wondered how an old, not really tall man like him could be so strong. She gasped, as she tried to breathe and panic consumed her. She could have foreseen this, but during her conversation with Laura she had led her guard down and now she was paying for her inattentiveness.

"Stop it, Emmet!" Laura yelled.

"But she…"

"Leave her alone. She's here, that's what you wanted. Now release her!"

To Ellen's surprise Michaels gave in to Laura's demand. He let go off her and pushed her back into the couch. She coughed and for a second she feared she had to throw up.

Michaels ignored her struggle and went for the file on the table.

"It's useless," Laura repeated her former statement.

"But the number…," Michaels looked at Laura. "I need the number!" He opened the file. The pages were empty.

"You lied to me!" He yelled at Ellen, but Laura cut him off. "The number's irrelevant." She established eye contact with Michaels. "Believe me."

"You're lying to me," he answered. "Remember? Back then during our therapy sessions you said, the number's the key to him. You told me, he could destroy you, if he wanted to. He's always made sure you wouldn't tell anyone, but you told me, because you knew I would protect you no matter what!"

"You won't find him, Emmet. Time's have changed."

The doctor shook his head, his eyes glistened with fury. "No, no, no. I know you told me the truth. I know, because I made sure, you would tell me the truth!"

"He's dead, Emmet. He's no threat to me anymore."

Michaels swallowed. "That's a lie."

"It's not," Laura replied coolly. "I went to his funeral, because I wanted to see how they buried him. It was one of the happiest days of my life."

Michaels seemed lost. His eyes remained focused on Laura who seemed to have awakened from her apathetic condition. "And you know what I'm looking forward to next?"

"Tell me."

"Seeing you behind bars for the rest of your life. You deserve to rot in there!"

The sound of the unlocking of a pistol near his right ear prompted Michaels to turn his head. Puzzled he noticed that it wasn't Ellen who was pointing a weapon at him. It was William Robertson, Ellen's husband.

"Hands up and where I can see them!" Will barked. Michaels obeyed reluctantly. His arms were shaking when he raised them over his head.

Ellen, who had recovered from the strangulation, rose from the couch and crossed the room until she stood behind Laura.

"Hello Doctor," Ellen said. "I would have brought a knife, but decided you weren't worth the mess."

"56897531," Michaels repeated.

"56897531," Ellen confirmed. "Where's the rest of the cavalleria, Will?"

"Waiting outside. The police are waiting, too." He looked at his watch. "If I don't call them in, in less than three minutes, they'll come in and I doubt any of us wants that to happen."

"Do you have other plans, Mister Michaels?" Ellen asked.

He shook his head. "No." He looked from Laura to Ellen and back, as if he acknowledged the physical similarity of the two women for the first time.

"I love you," he said to Laura. "I wanted to help you."

Laura didn't answer. She rose from the couch and unsteadily left the room.

"I guess that means she doesn't return the sentiment," Ellen quipped. "I'm going to let the police in."

######

After Emmet Michaels had been taken away by the police and an emergency doctor started taking care of Laura's head wound, Perry and Della stood near the house entrance and watched the scenery.

"That was dangerous," Della remarked.

"It was stupid and reckless, but at least we could convince Ellen to involve the police after all. I'm not sure what the D.A. will make all of this, though."

"If she's anything like her mother, she will get away with a blue eye."

Perry chuckled. "If you think so…" he paused and added. "I'm proud of you, you know."

Della smirked. "And why's that?"

"You gave me not only one, but two clues in this case."

"I did?" she wondered.

He nodded. "One was of course the meaning of the eight digit number…"

"Which seems to be another dead end," Della pointed out. "And the other one?"

"This morning I realized that whoever had kidnapped Laura had hidden her in her own house all along. And you gave me the idea."

Della was puzzled. "I don't see how…"

He lowered his voice and closed the distance between them. "I would like to discuss this in private."

"In private, hm?"

"In private."

She shrugged and gave him a smile. "All right, Counselor."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I love you," he whispered gently.

#####tbc#####

The next chapter will be the last one. Thanks for all your time, reviews, and messages so far. I appreciate them all.