A Case of Need: A Novel by Michael Crichton, Jeffery Hudson

“Karen wanted a car for the weekend and Ev refused, saying she didn’t want her to be out all night. So Karen turned to Uncle Peter, who is a softer touch, and asked if she could borrow his car. He was reluctant, so she threatened to imitate him, and he immediately loaned her the w car.
    “What did Peter do for transportation?”
    “I dropped him off at his place that night, on my way back here.”
    “So you spent several hours with Karen on Saturday.”
    “Yes. From around one o’clock to nine or ten.”
    “Then you left with your uncle?”
    “Yes.”
    “And Karen?”
    “She stayed with Ev.”
    “Did she go out that night?”
    “I imagine so. That was why she wanted the car.”
    “Did she say where she was going?”
    “Over to Harvard. She had some friends in the college.”
    “Did you see her Sunday?”
    “No. Just Saturday.”
    “Tell me,” I said, “when you were with her—did she look any different to you?”
    He shook his head. “No. Just the same. Of course, she’d put on a little weight, but I guess all girls do that when they go to college. She was very active in the summer, playing tennis and swimming. She stopped that when she got to school, and I guess she put on a few pounds.” He smiled slowly. “We kidded her about it. She complained about the lousy food, and we kidded her about eating so much of it that she still gained weight.”
    “Had she always had a weight problem?”
    “Karen? No. She was always a skinny little kid, a real tomboy. Then she filled out in a real hurry. It was like a caterpillar, you know, and the cocoon.”
    “Then this was the first time she’d ever been overweight?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know. To tell you the truth, I never paid that much attention.”
    “Was there anything else you noticed?”
    “No, nothing else.”
    I looked around the room. On his desk, next to copies of Robbins’ Pathology and Surgical Anatomy, was a photograph of the two of them. They both looked tanned and healthy. He saw me looking and said, “That was last spring, in the Bahamas. For once the whole family managed to get a week off together. We had a great time.”
    I got up and took a closer look. It was a flattering picture of her. Her skin was darkly tanned, contrasting nicely with her blue eyes and blonde hair.
    “I know it’s a peculiar question,” I said, “but has your sister always had dark hair on her lips and arms?”
    “That was funny,” he said, in a slow voice. “Now that you mention it. She had just a little bit there, on Saturday, Peter told her she’d better bleach it or wax it. She got mad for a couple of minutes, and then she laughed.”
    “So it was new?”
    “I guess so. She might have had it all along, but I never noticed it until then. Why?”
    “I don’t know,” I said.
    He stood and came over to the picture. “You’d never think she would be the type for an abortion,” he said. “She was such a great girl, funny and happy and full of energy. She had a real heart of gold. I know that sounds stupid, but she did. She was kind of the family mascot, being the youngest. Everybody loved her.”
    I said, “Where was she this summer?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
    “You don’t know?”
    “Well, not exactly. In theory, Karen was on the Cape, working in an art gallery in Provincetown.” He paused. “But I don’t think she was there much. I think she spent most of her time on the Hill. She had some kooky friends there; she collected oddball types.”
    “Men friends? Women friends?”
    “Both.” He shrugged. “But I don’t really know. She only mentioned it to me once or twice, in casual references. Whenever I tried to ask her about it, she’d laugh and change the subject. She was very clever about discussing only what she wanted to.”
    “Did she mention any names?”
    “Probably, but I don’t remember. She could be maddening about names, talking about people casually as if you knew them intimately. Using just