"When she awoke on Sunday morning she seemed quite calm and normal, and she immediately asked that you be contacted. She said that you were on an island in the Caribbean called St. Mark's, and that she was supposed to meet you there. My staff made repeated attempts to contact you there, without success. I reassured her that we would find you, and she seemed to accept that. She slept much of the morning, had a good lunch. When she questioned why she was here I said that she had collapsed at home, and that I thought it a good idea for her to remain here for observation for a day or two. She accepted that.
"Late in the afternoon, her mother arrived, having flown in from Virginia. I was in the room when they met, and it became immediately apparent that Arrington was very disoriented. She seemed not to understand that she was married to Vance Calder, saying that she was supposed to interview him, but that she had changed her mind and had decided to meet you in St. Mark's instead. When her mother mentioned Peter, her son, she became disturbed again, but after a few moments seemed to understand that she had a son and that Calder was the father. Her mother, quite wisely, turned the conversation to trivial things, and after a few minutes she left. Arrington immediately went to sleep again."
"And what do you make of all this?" Stone asked.
"It seems clear that Arrington is undergoing periods of anterograde amnesia, brought on by the shock of her husband's murder. Anterograde amnesia is a condition during which the great mass of old memories, prior to a certain point, remain intact, while the subject does not have access to more recent memories, or those memories are intermittent or scrambled-this, as opposed to retrograde amnesia, during which the subject may lose memory of all prior events, even her identity."
"Forgive me, Jim, are you a psychologist?"
"A psychiatrist. This is, primarily, a psychiactric clinic, although we do some work with patients who have substance abuse problems."
"Is Arrington likely to recover all her memory?"
"Yes, if the basis for her amnesia is emotional, not physical, and that seems the case. Her mother had spoken with her on the previous Sunday and said that at that time she seemed perfectly normal. If she should show signs of not recovering her memory, then I think a brain scan would be in order, to rule out a physical basis for her problem."
"Does she know that Vance is dead?"
"That's hard to say; I haven't asked her that, direcdy, and when the police came here, I refused to allow her to be questioned."
"You did the right thing," Stone said.
"Arrington seems to have an idea that something may be wrong, but she tends to divert the conversation if it heads in a direction she doesn't want it to go. She may very well be, unconsciously, protecting herself emotionally from a situation which she is not yet ready to confront."
"I see. Perhaps it's time to explain to her what has happened?"
"Perhaps it is. She'll have to be told sooner or later, and since she seems to have an emotional attachment to you, it might be best that she hear it from you."
"All right. Jim, I should tell you that, for the moment, I am acting as Arrington's attorney, as well as her friend, and that, given the circumstances, you may be asked questions by the police. Should that occur, I advise you to rest on doctor-patient confidentiality and decline to answer. At a later date, with Arrington's concurrence, I may ask you to give a statement to the police or the district attorney."
"I understand completely."
"Shall we go and see Arrington, then?"
"Please follow me." Judson led the way from his office, down a hallway to the last door on the right-hand side. He knocked softly.
"Come in," a woman's voice replied.
Judson opened the door. "Arrington, I've brought someone to see you," he said. He stepped aside and ushered Stone into the room.
The room appeared much like a guest room in a sumptuous home, except for the elevated hospital bed. On the far side of the room, a cabinet had, apparently, once held a television set, which had been removed. Sunlight streamed through the windows, which were open above a garden at the rear of the house. Arrington sat up in bed and held out her arms. "Stone!" she cried.
Stone went to her and took her in his arms, kissing her on the cheek. To his surprise, she turned his head and gave him a wet kiss on the mouth. Stone glanced at the doctor, who evinced surprise.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Much better. For a while, all I was doing was sleeping. What took you so long to get here?"
"I had to come a great distance," he replied. "Do you feel well enough to talk for a while?"
"Yes, I do; I feel very well, actually. I'm not quite sure why Dr. Jud-son is keeping me here."
"Your mother came to see you yesterday, remember?"
"Of course. We had a very nice visit. I'm sorry to have alarmed her; it was a long way for her to come, to find me perfectly well."
"She wanted to be sure Peter was all right without you."
Arrington's face clouded slightly. "Yes, she told me. I'm a little confused about that."