“Ralph Benedict,” he said. “I’ll check with the medical board.”
“Cindy grew up in Ventura. He might still be there.”
“What’s the name of the company who shipped him these cylinders?”
“Holloway Medical. San Francisco.
“Let’s see what else they sent him and when: Cylinders-like empty
tubes?”
“They’re part of a kit.” I described the Insuject system.
“No needles or drugs under the sink?”
“Nope, the needles and the insulin spansules come separately.” I
recounted my search of the bedroom and the refrigerator. “But they
could be anywhere in that house. Any possibility of getting a search
warrant now?”
“Just on the basis of tubes? Doubtful. With needles attached and the
insulin all loaded up, maybe. That would be evidence of premeditation,
though she could still claim the stuff was left over from the aunt.”
“Not if the insulin was still fresh. I’m not sure of insulin’s exact
shelf life, but it’s not four years.”
“Yeah. So find me some fresh insulin and I’ll visit a judge. Right
now, there’s no evidentiary chain.”
“Even with Cassie’s low sugar?”
“Even with. Sorry. Wonder why she left it under the sink like
that.”
“She probably never imagined anyone would look there. It was stuck in
a corner-you d have to be groping around to find it.”
And she wasn’t pissed at all that you were snooping in her john?”
“If she was, she didn’t show it. I made up a story about running out
of toilet paper and going under the sink for a fresh roll. She
apologized for not being a better housekeeper.”
“Eager to please, huh? The boys back in South Carolina sure took
advantage of it.”
“Or she gets people to do what she wants by playing dumb and passive.
I didn’t walk out of that house feeling in control.”
“Ye olde bathroom detective. Sounds like you’re ready for the
ViceSquad.”
“I’ll pass. The whole thing was surreal. Not that I was doing much
good as a therapist.”
I told him how Cindy had thrust Cassie at me, and Cassie’s subsequent
panic.
“Up till then my rapport with Cassie had been progressing pretty
well.
Now, it’s shot to hell, Milo. So I have to wonder if Cindy was
deliberately trying to sabotage me.”
“Waltzing and leading, huh?”
“Something she told me suggests that control is a big issue for her.
When she was a kid, the aunt wouldn’t let her eat any sweets at all,
even though there was nothing wrong with her pancreas. That’s a far
cry from Munchausen, but there is a hint of pathology there-not
allowing a healthy child to have an occasional ice cream.”
Aunt projecting the diabetes onto her?”
“Exactly. And who knows if there were other aspects of the disease the
aunt projected-like injections. Not insulin, but maybe some kind of
vitamin shots. I’m just guessing. Cindy also told me that she
restricts Cassie’s sweets. At face value, that sounds like good
mothering. øReasonable health-consciousness from someone who’s already
lost one child. But maybe there’s a whole weird thing going on with
regard to sugar.”
“Sins of the mothers,” he said.
“The aunt was Cindy’s functional mother. And look at the role model
she provided: a health professional who had a chronic disease and
controlled it-Cindy spoke of that with pride. She may have grown up
associating being female-being maternal-with being sick and emotionally
rigid: controlled and controlling. It’s no surprise she chose the
military right after high school-from one structured environment to
another. When that didn’t work out, her next step was respiratory tech
school. Because Aunt Harriet told her it was a good profession.
Control and illness-it keeps repeating itself.”
“She ever mention why she didn’t finish respiratory tech school?”
“No. What are you thinking-more promiscuity?”
“I’m a big believer in patterns. What’d she do after that?”
“Junior college. Where she met Chip. She dropped out, got married.
Got pregnant right away-more big changes that might have made her feel
out of control. The marriage was a step up for her socially, but she
ended up living in a very lonely place.”
I described Dunbar Court and the surrounding tract.
“Slow death for someone who craves attention, Milo. And when Chip gets