Final Option

but she didn’t give you enough money for the return. It was raining hard, so I had her check your messages to find out exactly where you were going. I thought I’d try to catch you—play Sir Galahad. I didn’t realize how much you’d need it.”
    “I was set up,” I stammered, still struggling to regain my composure. “I got a message that Carl Savage wanted to meet with me—he was supposed to have papers that I wanted about Deodar, but when I got there, someone jumped me”
    “Man or woman?”
    “I don’t know. I just assumed it was a man, but really there was no way to tell. I do know that whoever it was had a pipe in his hand. It all happened so fast.”
    “What did he want?”
    “I think he wanted to kill me,” I replied with a shudder. “It was only luck that I managed to get away. I don’t think he expected me to fight back.”
    “Why would someone want to kill you?”
    “I don’t know. Oh God, Elliott, it was awful. I was so scared,” I sobbed, as a sort of retroactive panic seized me. “Hey,” Elliott said softly. “You don’t need to cry on the mailbox when I’ve got a perfectly good shoulder. Come on.”
    I found relief in tears, but in a few minutes I felt ridiculous, weeping into Elliott’s arms in the lobby of the Chicago Mercantile Exchange. With an effort I straightened myself up and took a deep breath. Elliott offered me a handkerchief, and I put it to good use. I knew that while some women look delicately vulnerable after they’ve cried, I look dreadful—red-eyed and blotchy.
    “You know Kate, this could have ended up much differently,” said Elliott gravely.
    “I know. Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
    “Do you have any idea who attacked you?“
    “Someone who knew I would be interested in documents related to Deodar Commodities. By now that’s got to be half the population of Chicago. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense. What were you coming to see me about in the first place?”
    “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked gently. “Yes, why?”
    “Pamela Hexter tried to kill herself this afternoon. She took an overdose of sleeping pills. It was just a fluke that someone found her. Krissy locked herself out of her own house. She keeps a spare key at her mother’s. Still, it was just lucky that she decided to say hello to her mom.”
    “Is she going to be okay?”
    “So far she’s in critical condition, but that’s just because she’s still in ICU. Anyway, Krissy called Ken Kurlander at your office, who called Elkin. They’re both anxious that news of this not get into the press. They’re afraid that if the prosecutor gets wind of it, he’ll try to get bail revoked.”
    “You better believe it,” I said.
    “We were trying to find Barton, but no one knew where he was. Everyone at Hexter Commodities had already gone for the day, and there was no answer at his house or at his office at Northwestern. Krissy’d been gone all day and didn’t know where he was. Elkin called me to see if I could track him down. Under the circumstances, he didn’t want to attract too much attention. I thought you might know.”
    “I do know,” I said. “His wife had twins today. I bet he’s still with her at the hospital.”
    “Do you know which one?” inquired Elliott.
    “Northwestern Memorial.”
    “It’s a small world.” Elliott sighed. “That’s where they’ve taken Pamela.”
     
    We broke the news to Barton Jr. in the brightly decorated visitor’s lounge in the maternity wing.
    “Don’t tell Jane,” was all he said when Elliott was through relating the details. “She’s so happy. She’s wanted a daughter so much. I don’t want my family to spoil this day for her.”
    “The news will keep,” I agreed.
    “Did Mother say why she did it?” asked Barton wearily.
    “She left a note,” said Elliott. “Your sister had the presence of mind to keep it away from the paramedics. Elkin Caufield has it now, but he told me that it didn’t contain anything that could be construed as a confession. He and Kurlander are working hard to keep up the impression that your mother took too many sleeping pills by mistake. I think her doctor is going along with it.”
    “Dr. Pollard is an old friend of the family,” said Barton.
    “Is there someplace private that you can make a phone call?” asked Elliott. “Elkin’s anxious to talk to you. Then I’ll walk you down to see your mother.”
    “Why don’t you two go and see if you can find a