I leaned back and took in a deep breath. “She asked me to give her a ride home and if I would help her install a flat screen TV she had purchased. I didn’t want to, but when I declined, she reminded me that we were supposed to be friends. That a friend would help another friend install a flat screen TV. I decided to go ahead.”
“And what happened?”
I sighed. “I drove her home, and we went up to her apartment. She showed me the flat screen. I installed it – she had it pretty much ready, but couldn’t lift it on her own. I had my back to the room, and when I turned around, she was dressed in something revealing and tried to kiss me.”
“What did you do in response?”
“I rejected her, pushing her away. She persisted and tried to undo my belt buckle, but at that point, I opened the door and left.”
“How did she respond to that?”
“I thought she finally got the message,” I said and remembered back to that next week. “She seemed to avoid me but then, once again, she began insisting that I be friendly with her. I finally went to see Fred Parker, the program director and told him it was either her or me. I had to quit because she crossed the line.
“What did he say?”
I shook my head. “He didn’t want me to quit. I told him what she did and he said that he felt she wasn’t stable enough to continue in the program. He told me that he’d tell her she had to withdraw or they would expel her.”
“What happened next?”
“You already know,” I said. “She was hanging around my office and must have heard me talking to Kate, to my wife. I mentioned that she was walking along 5th Avenue to Central Park. Dr. Monroe must have decided to go and find her after she was expelled, with the intent of either confronting Kate or attacking her.”
“What else can you remember of that encounter?” he asked. “You didn’t say anything to her about her withdrawing from the program?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said, “but I knew that I had to do something. She wasn't getting the picture as far as our relationship was concerned. I had to withdraw because I was fed up with her threats and tired of rebuffing her.”
“What happened next?”
“I went to see Fred to withdraw. He talked me out of it. I went back to work. I received a call later that afternoon that Kate had been hit by a car and was being rushed to the hospital. To NYU hospital where I was working. I rushed down to the emergency room to wait. That was it.”
“Did you think at the time that she had been hit by Dr. Monroe?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said and shook my head vehemently. “Not at all. I didn’t suspect Dr. Monroe until Fred called and apologized. He put two and two together before I did. He felt responsible because he’d expelled Dr. Monroe from the program only hours earlier.”
“But you didn’t suspect?”
“Frankly, I was too upset to even think of causes. All I knew was that my wife had been hit by a car and was bleeding and that her pregnancy was at risk. I watched the operation on the video screen while they performed an emergency C-section and tried to save my wife’s life. It was only when Fred called me later and told me that he was afraid it was Dr. Monroe that I even thought about Lisa being the one who hit her. I had no idea otherwise. It never crossed my mind. I was too busy worrying about Kate dying to think about who did it.”
McDonald rubbed his jaw as if considering. He looked over a sheet of paper and then glanced up at me.
“Dr. Morgan, we’d like to know where you were on the following dates. They’re in the past few years, so I’ll ask that you try to account for your whereabouts and get back to us as soon as possible.”
He handed me a sheet of paper with a list of type-written dates on it. There were fifteen in total, ranging back five years. I looked it over and folded it up, tucking it into my jacket pocket.
“I’ll check my calendar at work and my personal calendar.”
“Thank you,” McDonald said and stood. He extended his hand and I realized it was time for us to leave. “I appreciate your cooperation.”
Both Lara and I stood and I offered my hand. “Tell me, Detective,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “Am I still a suspect?”
He stood, his hands on his hips, and tilted his head to the side.
“I can’t comment on that now,” he said, his voice patient. “But you get that list back to us as soon as possible so we can conclude our investigation and make sure Mrs. Morgan gets the justice she deserves, okay?"
He looked me in the eye, and I thought I saw sympathy, as if he didn’t believe I was guilty.
“Thank you,” I said and Lara and I left.
“Stay in Manhattan, Dr. Morgan.” St. James said crisply. “Once we get your response to that list, and corroborate it, we may need to speak with you again.”