A Jensen Family Christmas by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pinnacle Books
Published: 2019-09-08T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 27

The MacMurphy Sanitarium

The man who walked into the sanitarium’s front entrance was a little above medium height, broad shouldered, and had a darkly tanned face, with a hawk nose above a brown mustache. He stepped into the opening between the foyer and the sitting room and looked around, his deep-set eyes darting back and forth as he studied the patients who were there. Evidently not finding who he was looking for, he approached one of the nurses and took off his hat.

“Excuse me, miss. I’d like to see one of your patients here. Bill Williams is his name.”

The young woman’s eyebrows rose in surprise under her starched white cap. She repeated, “Bill Williams?”

“That’s right,” the visitor said with a nod. “Good-sized fella, dark hair—”

“I know who Mr. Williams is,” the nurse said. “If you’ll come with me, sir, I’ll take you to Dr. MacMurphy’s office.”

The man shook his head. “I don’t need to see the doctor. I just want a word with old Bill—”

“Please, sir, follow me.”

Frowning in confusion and irritation, the visitor trailed the nurse from the sitting room, along a hallway, to a door with a fancy gilt nameplate on it that read DR. WALTER MACMURPHY. She knocked on the door. A man’s voice called brusquely from inside, “What is it?”

“There’s a gentleman here I think you should speak with, Doctor,” the nurse replied.

The visitor heard some muttered complaining inside the office, then heavy footsteps approaching the door. It opened to reveal a bald, overweight man in a dark suit. His black beard was shot through with gray. He glowered at the nurse for a second; then his gaze switched to the visitor, who stood there with his brown Stetson in his hand.

“He was asking about Mr. Williams, Doctor,” the nurse went on.

That made MacMurphy’s expression change from annoyance to interest. He said, “Is that right? Well, come in, sir. Come in, please.”

When the visitor was inside the office, where the darkly paneled walls were lined with bookshelves containing hundreds of thick leather-bound volumes on medicine, MacMurphy extended a pudgy hand to him.

“I’m Walter MacMurphy, the owner and chief physician of this sanitarium,” he introduced himself.

The visitor took MacMurphy’s hand in a hard grip and said, “My name is Thackery.”

“You have an interest in our patient Bill Williams?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re . . . a relative? A friend?”

“A friend,” Thackery said.

MacMurphy gestured toward a red leather chair in front of the large desk and suggested, “Please, sit down.”

Thackery looked a little reluctant to do so. He had an air of impatience about him, which he seemed to be keeping in check. But after a moment, he settled in the chair and rested his hat on his knee. MacMurphy went behind the desk and lowered his considerable bulk into a thickly cushioned swivel chair.

“I’m not sure why you folks are getting so worked up about this,” Thackery said. “Aren’t people allowed to visit your patients?” His frown suddenly deepened. “Wait a minute. Is Bill dead?”

“I wish I could tell you what his current state of health is, Mr.

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