“I don’t know what to think anymore,” David said. “It’s true; he was always teetering on the edge with his frequent infections and his brittle diabetes. But why a seizure?”
“His blood sugar was wandering all over the map,” Angela said. “What about a stroke? I mean the possibilities are legion.”
The phone startled them both. David reached for it by reflex. He was afraid it was the hospital with more bad news. When the caller asked for Angela, he was relieved.
Angela immediately recognized the voice: it was Phil Calhoun.
“Sorry I haven’t been in touch,” Calhoun said. “I’ve been busy, but now I’d like to have a chat.”
“When?” Angela asked.
“Well, I’m sitting here in the Iron Horse Inn,” Calhoun said. “It’s only a stone’s throw away. Why don’t I come over?”
Angela covered the phone with her hand. “It’s the private investigator, Phil Calhoun,” she said. “He wants to come over.”
“I thought you were letting the Hodges affair go,” David said.
“I have,” Angela said. “I haven’t spoken to anyone.”
“Then what about Phil Calhoun?” David asked.
“I haven’t spoken to him either,” Angela said. “Not since Saturday. But I’ve already paid him. I think we should at least hear what he’s learned.”
David sighed with resignation. “Whatever,” he said.
A quarter of an hour later when Phil Calhoun came through their door, David wondered what could have possessed Angela to describe him as professional. To David he appeared anything but professional, with a red baseball cap on backwards and a flannel shirt. The sorrels on his feet didn’t even have laces.
“Pleasure,” Calhoun said when he shook hands with David.
They sat in the living room on the shabby old furniture that they’d brought from Boston. The huge room had a cheap dance-hall feel with such meager, pitiful furnishing. The plastic bag taped to the window didn’t help.
“Nice house,” Calhoun said as he looked around.
“We’re still in the process of furnishing it,” Angela said. She asked if she could get Calhoun something to drink. He said he’d appreciate a beer if she didn’t mind.
While Angela was off getting the beer, David continued to eye their visitor. Calhoun was older than David had expected. A shock of gray hair bristled’ from beneath the red cap, which Calhoun made no attempt to remove.
“Mind if I smoke?” Calhoun asked as he brandished his Antonio y Cleopatras.
“I’m sorry, but we do,” Angela said, coming back into the room and handing Calhoun his beer. “Our daughter has respiratory problems.”
“No problem,” Calhoun said agreeably. “I wanted to give you folks an update on my investigations. It’s proceeding well, although not without effort. Dr. Dennis Hodges was not the most popular man in town. In fact, half the population seems to have hated him for one reason or another.”
“We’re already aware of that,” David said. “I hope that you have more specific details to add to justify your hourly wage.”
“David, please!” Angela said. She was surprised at David’s rudeness.
“It’s my opinion,” Calhoun continued, ignoring David’s comment, “that Dr. Hodges either didn’t care what other people thought of him or he was socially handicapped. As a purebred New Englander, it was probably a combination of the two.” Calhoun chuckled, then took a drink of his beer.
“I’ve made up a list of potential suspects,” Calhoun continued, “but I haven’t interviewed them all yet. But it’s getting interesting. Something strange is going on here. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Who have you spoken with?” David asked. There was still a rudeness to his voice that bothered Angela, but she didn’t say anything.
“Just a couple so far,” Calhoun said. He let out a belch. He made no attempt to excuse himself or even cover his mouth. David glanced at Angela. Angela pretended not to have noticed.
“I’ve talked to a few of the higher-ups with the hospital,” Calhoun continued. “The chairman of the board, Traynor, and the vice chairman, Sherwood. Both had reasons to hold a grudge against Hodges.”
“I hope you plan to speak with Dr. Cantor,” Angela said. “I’d heard he really had it out for Hodges.”
“Cantor’s on the list,” Calhoun assured her. “But I wanted to start at the top and work down. Sherwood’s grudge involved a piece of land. Traynor’s beef was far more personal.”