Everything about him seemed to run on fast-forward.
Plumb said, “Dr. Delaware is a psychologist, Chuck.”
Jones blinked and stared at me.
“Dr. Delaware’s been working with Cassie,” said Stephanie, “to help
her with her fear of needles.”
Jones made a noncommittal sound, then said, “Well, let me know what
goes on. let’s get to the bottom of this damned folderol.”
He walked toward Cassie’s room. Plumb followed like a puppy.
When they were inside I said, “Folderol?”
“How’d you like to have him for a grandpa?”
“He must love Chip’s earring.”
“One thing he doesn’t love is shrinks. After Psychiatry was abolished
a bunch of us went to him, trying to get some sort of mental health
services restored. We might as well have asked him for an
interest-free loan. Plumb was setting you up just now, when he told
Jones what you do.”
“The old corporate pissing game? Why?”
“Who knows? I’m just telling you so you’ll keep your guard up.
These people play a different game.”
“Duly noted,” I said.
She looked at her watch. “Time for clinic.”
We left Chappy and headed for the elevator.
She said, “So what are we going to do, Alex?”
I considered telling her what I’d put Milo up to. Decided to keep her
out of it. “From my reading, the only thing that seems to work is
either catching someone in the act or having a direct confrontation
that gets them to confess.”
“Confrontation? As in coming out and accusing her?”
I nodded.
“I can’t exactly do that at this point, can I?” she said. “Now that
she’s got witnesses to a bona fide seizure and I’m bringing in
specialists. Who knows, maybe I’m totally off-base and there really is
some kind of epilepsy, I don’t know. . . . I received a letter from
Rita this morning. Express mail from New York-she’s touring the art
galleries. How are things progressing on the case?” Am I making any
headway’ in my diagnosis?” I got the feeling someone went around me
and called her.”
“Plumb?”
“Uh-huh. Remember that meeting he wanted? We had it yesterday and it
turned out to be all sweetness and light. Him telling me how much he
appreciates my commitment to the institution. Letting me know the
financial situation is lousy and going to get lousier but implying that
if I don’t make waves, I can have a better job.”
“Rita’s.”
“He didn’t come out and say it but that was the message.
It would be just like him to then go and call her, set her against
me.
. . . Anyway, none of that’s important. What do I do about Cassie?”
“Why don’t you wait to see what this Torgeson says? If he feels the
seizures have been manufactured, you’d have more ammunition for an
eventual” “Confrontation, huh? Can’t wait.”
As we neared the waiting room I commented on how little impact Laurence
Ashmore’s murder seemed to have made.
“What do you mean?”
“No one’s talking about it.”
“Yes. You’re right-it’s terrible, isn’t it. How hardened we get.
Caught up in our own stuff.”
A few steps later she said, “I didn’t really know himAshmore. He kept
to himself-kind of antisocial. Never attended a staff meeting, never
RSVP’d to party invitations.”
“With those kinds of social skills, how’d he get any referrals?”
“He didn’t want referrals-didn’t do any clinical work. Pure
research.”
“lab rat?”
“Beady eyes and all. But I heard he was smart knew his toxicology. So
when Cassie started coming in with those respiratory things, I asked
him to go over Chad’s chart.”
“You tell him why?”
“You mean that I was suspicious? No. I wanted him to go in with an
open mind. I just asked him to look for anything out of the
ordinary.
He was very reluctant. Almost resentful-as if I was imposing. A
couple of days later I got a phone message saying he hadn’t found
anything. As in, don’t bug me again!”
“How’d he pay his way? Grants?”
“I assume.”
“I thought the hospital was discouraging them-didn’t want to pay
overhead.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe he brought in his own overhead.”
She frowned. “No matter what his social skills, what happened to him