Dr. Death by Jonathan Kellerman

A couple of multiple-pierced kids dressed in black entered the deli and took a booth at the front. Lots of laughter. I heard the word “pastrami” used as if it was a punch line.

“Nitrites for the night crawlers,” Milo muttered. “Wanna do me a big favor? One that won’t put you in conflict of interest?” Tapping the file. “Go over this for me. You come up with something juicy, I take it more seriously. … Artistic. Burke draws, he doesn’t paint. We’ve already got a good idea who did that masterpiece…. So, you mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks. That frees me up for the fun stuff.”

“Which is?”

“Scrounging through putrid squats in Venice. Cop’s day at the beach.”

He hoisted himself out of the booth.

“Feds with PhDs,” he said. “Bad guys with MDs. And mot with a lowly master’s—it’s not pretty, being outclassed.”

I brought the file home just after three. Robin’s truck was gone and the day’s mail was still in the box. I collected the stack, made coffee, drank a cup and a half, brought the file to my office and called my service.

Richard Doss’s secretary had phoned to let me know Eric would be a half hour early for his four o’clock appointment. The boy had been examined by Dr. Robert Manitow; if I had time, please call the doctor.

She’d left Manitow’s number and I punched it. His receptionist sounded harried and my name evoked no recognition. She put me on hold for a long time. No music. Good.

I’d never met Bob or talked to him, knew him only from silver-framed family photos on a carved credenza in Judy’s chambers.

A clipped voice said, “Dr. Manitow. Who’s this?”

“Dr. Delaware.”

“What can I do for you?” Curt. Had his wife never mentioned working with me?

“I’m a psychologist—”

“I know who you are. Eric’s on his way over to see you.”

“How’s he doing physically?”

“He’s doing fine. It was your idea to have me check him out, wasn’t it?” Each word sounded as if it had been dragged over broken glass. No mistaking the accusatory tone.

I said, “I thought it would be a good idea, seeing what he’s gone through.”

“What exactly is he supposed to have gone through?”

“Beyond the long-term effects of losing his mom, his behavior was unusual, according to his father. Disappearing without explanation, refusing to talk—”

“He talks fine,” said Manitow. “He just talked to me. Told me this whole thing was bullshit, and I heartily concur. He’s a college student, for God’s sake. They leave home and do all kinds of crazy things—didn’t you?”

“His roommate was concerned enough to—”

“So the kid decided not to be perfect, for once. Of all people, I thought you’d evaluate the source before getting sucked into all this hysteria.”

“The source?”

“Richard,” he said. “Everything in Richard’s life is one big goddamn production. The whole family’s like that—nothing’s casual, everything’s a big goddamn deal.”

“You’re saying they overdramatize—”

“Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t bounce my words back to me like I’m on the couch. Hell yes, they over-dramatize. When they built that house of theirs, they should’ve included an amphitheater.”

“I’m sure you know them well,” I said, “but given what happened to Joanne—”

“What happened to Joanne was hell for those poor kids. But the truth is, she was screwed up psychologically. Pure and simple. Not a damn thing wrong with her other than she chose to drop out of life and eat herself to death. She discarded her good sense. That’s why she called that quack to finish the job. Nothing more than depression. I’m no shrink, and I could diagnose it. I told her to get psychiatric help, she refused. If Richard had listened to me in the first place and had her committed, they could’ve put her on a good tricyclic and she might be alive today and the kids could’ve been spared all the shit they went through.”

He wasn’t talking loud but I found myself holding the phone away from my ear.

He said, “Good luck with the kid. I’ve got to run.”

Click. His anger hung in the air, bitter as September smog.

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