“Where did you get this and what does it mean?” she snapped.

“They found the original in Mark Young’s breast pocket when they went through his clothes at the morgue. It was Haskell’s writing, and on a sheet of paper torn from the pad next to Young’s phone. The secretary remembers putting a fresh pad there last night, so Haskell had to have jotted it down sometime between seven and seven-thirty this morning.”

“A few minutes before he died?”

“Exactly. Kerry, I’m certain it’s connected to the plea bargain Haskell was trying to make.”

“The plea bargain? You mean the homicide he was hinting he could connect to Jimmy Weeks was the Sweetheart Murder Case?” Kerry could not believe what she was hearing. “Jimmy was involved with Suzanne Reardon, wasn’t he? Bob, are you telling me that whoever took Robin’s picture and came within an inch of running her over works for Jimmy Weeks, and this is his way of scaring me off?”

“Kerry, I’m not saying anything except leave it alone. For Robin’s sake, leave it alone.”

“Does Weeks know you’re here?”

“He knows that, for Robin’s sake, I’d warn you.”

“Wait a minute.” Kerry looked at her former husband with disbelief. “Let me get this straight. You’re here to warn me off because your client, the thug and murderer you represent, has given you a threat, veiled or otherwise, to convey to me. My God, Bob, how low you have gone.”

“Kerry, I’m trying to save my child’s life.”

“Your child? All of a sudden she’s so important to you? Do you know how many times you’ve devastated her when you didn’t show up to see her? It’s insulting. Now get out.”

As he turned, she snatched the paper from his hand. “But I’ll take this.”

“Give that to me.” Kinellen grabbed her hand, forcing her fingers open and pulling the paper from her.

“Dad, let go of Mom!”

They both whirled to see Robin standing in the doorway, the fading scars bright once more against the ashen pallor of her face.

Dr. Smith had left the office at 4:20, only a minute or so after his last patient-a post-tummy-tuck checkup, had departed. Kate Carpenter was glad to see him go. She found it disturbing just to be around him lately. She had noticed the tremor in his hand again today when he removed the skull stitches from Mrs. Pryce, who had had an eyebrow lift procedure. The nurse’s concern went beyond the physical, however; she was sure that mentally there was something radically wrong with the doctor as well.

The most frustrating thing for Kate, though, was that she didn’t know where to turn. Charles Smith was-or at least had been-a brilliant surgeon. She didn’t want to see him discredited, or drummed out of the profession. If circumstances were different, she would have talked to his wife or best friend. But in Dr. Smith’s case, she couldn’t do that-his wife was long gone, and he seemed to have no friends at all.

Kate’s sister Jean was a social worker. Jean probably would understand the problem and be able to advise her on where to turn to get Dr. Smith the help he obviously needed. But Jean was on vacation in Arizona, and Kate didn’t know how to reach her even if she wanted to.

At four-thirty Barbara Tompkins phoned. “Mrs. Carpenter, I’ve had it. Last night, Dr. Smith called and practically demanded that I have dinner with him. But then he kept calling me Suzanne. And he wants me to call him Charles. He asked if I had a serious boyfriend. I’m sorry, I know I owe him a lot, but I think he is really creepy, and this is getting to me. I find that even at work I’m looking over my shoulder, expecting to see him lurking somewhere. I can’t stand it. This can’t go on.”

Kate Carpenter knew she couldn’t stall any longer. The one possible person who came to her mind in whom she might confide was Robin Kinellen’s mother, Kerry McGrath.

Kate knew she was a lawyer, an assistant prosecutor in New Jersey, but she was also a mother who was very grateful that Dr. Smith had treated her daughter in an emergency. She also realized that Kerry McGrath knew more about Dr. Smith’s personal background than did she or anyone else on his staff. She wasn’t sure why Kerry had been checking on the doctor, but Kate didn’t feel that it was for any harmful purpose. Kerry had shared with her the information that Smith had been not only divorced but also was the father of a woman who was murdered.

Feeling like Judas Iscariot, Mrs. Kate Carpenter gave Barbara Tompkins the home phone number of Bergen County Assistant Prosecutor Kerry McGrath.

For a long time after Bob Kinellen left, Kerry and Robin sat on the sofa, not talking, shoulders touching, legs up on the coffee table.

Then, choosing her words carefully, Kerry said, “Whatever I said, or whatever the scene you just witnessed might have implied, Dad loves you very much, Robin. His worry is for you. I don’t admire the fixes he gets himself into, but I respect his feeling for you even when I get so angry I throw him out.”

“You got mad at him when he said he was worried about me.”

“Oh, come on, those were just words. He makes me so angry sometimes. Anyhow, I know that you’re not going to grow up to be the kind of person who lets herself drift into problems that are obvious to everyone else, then pleads situational ethics-meaning ‘this may be wrong but it’s necessary.’”

“That’s what Dad’s doing?”

“I think so.”

“Does he know who took my picture?”

“He suspects he knows. It has to do with a case Geoff Dorso has been working on and that he’s tried to get me to help him with. He’s trying to get a man out of prison that he’s convinced is innocent.”

“Are you helping him with it?”

“Actually, I’d pretty well decided that ‘by getting involved I was stirring up a hornet’s nest for no reason. Now I’m beginning to think I may have been wrong, that there are a couple of very good reasons to think that Geoff’s client indeed may have been unfairly convicted. But on the other hand, I’m certainly not going to put you in any danger to prove it. I promise you that.”

Robin stared ahead for a moment and then turned to her mother. “Mom, that doesn’t make sense. That’s totally unfair. You’re putting Dad down for something, and then you’re doing the same thing. Isn’t not helping Geoff if you think his client shouldn’t be in prison ‘situational ethics’?”

“Robin!”

“I mean it. Think about it. Now can we order the pizza? I’m hungry.”

Shocked, Kerry watched as her daughter stood up and reached for the bag with the video movies they were planning to watch. Robin examined the tides, chose one and put it in the VCR. Just before she turned it on, she said, “Mom, I really think that guy in the car the other day was just trying to scare me. I don’t think he really would have run me over. I don’t mind if you drop me off at school and Alison picks me up. What’s the dif?”

Kerry stared at her daughter for a moment, then shook her head. “The dif is that I’m proud of you and ashamed of myself.” She hugged Robin quickly, then released her and went into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, as she was getting out plates for the pizza, the phone rang and a hesitant voice said, “Ms. McGrath, I’m Barbara Tompkins. I apologize for bothering you, but Mrs. Carpenter, in Dr. Charles Smith’s office, suggested that I call you.”

As she listened, Kerry grabbed a pen and began jotting notes on the message pad. Dr. Smith was consulted by Barbara… He showed her a picture… Asked her if she wanted to look like this woman… Operated on her… Began counseling her… Helped her select an apartment… Sent her to a personal shopper… Now is calling her “Suzanne” and stalking her…

Finally Tompkins said, “Ms. McGrath, I’m so grateful to Dr. Smith. He’s turned my life around. I don’t want to report him to the police and ask for a restraining order. I don’t want to hurt him in any way. But I can’t let this go on.”