Jonathan Kellerman – Monster

With his chatter gone, the corridors were stripped of conversation. No discourse among the inmates.

Here, every man was an island.

I supposed Swig was right; his charges would be easier to control than simple criminals. Because once the violent impulses were held in check, psychosis was a custodian’s friend, neurochemically suppressing and restraining as the disease blunted initiative, squelched the spark of freshness and novelty.

Medication helped, too. To handle violent psychotics, the trick was to find a drug that soothed the occasional fried synapse, squelched rage, hushed the little voices that commanded mayhem.

But take away the violence and you didn’t have serenity. What remained were what psychiatrists labeled the negative symptoms of psychosis: apathy, flat mood, deadened voice, blunted movement, impoverished thinking, language stripped of nuance and humor. An existence devoid of surprise and joy.

That explained the ambient silence. The lack of noise wasn’t peaceful. The ward felt like a crypt.

A psych tech came by wheeling a food cart. I found myself welcoming the jangle.

Hatterson took us to the C Ward elevator. Milo said, “Let’s go up to Five.”

“Sorry,” said Hatterson. “I’m not authorized. No one is, not even the docs unless they get an order to evaluate a 13.”

“You know a lot about this place,” I said.

Hatterson shrugged. As we waited for the lift to arrive, I peered through the plastic panels on the door and watched the traffic on the ward. Techs moving around confidently, unarmed; a black nurse emerging from the station with a clipboard and making her way down the corridor with a high-hipped trot. Inmates not doing much of anything.

I thought of how Heidi Ott had handled Ralph and the fighters. In a jail, a skirmish like that could have led to full-scale rioting.

So Starkweather was indeed a tight ship. Full of one-way passengers.

Meaning the chance that Claire Argent’s work had anything to do with her murder was remote.

But had the system broken down somehow? A released man “acting out” in the worst way?

Maybe Heidi could tell us. She ‘d worked with Claire Argent on the Living Skills group… low-functioning men, according to Hatterson. What had Claire had in mind when setting up the sessions?

Why had she come here?

Hatterson said, “Here’s some docs.”

Three men came through the door. Shirts and ties, no white coats, badges with yellow bars. No outward sign that a colleague had been slashed to death and stuffed in a car trunk.

Milo said, “Excuse me,” showed his badge, explained his purpose. The man in the middle was tall, sandy-haired, weathered-looking, in his sixties. Green plaid shirt, yellow knit tie. He said, “Terrible thing. I wish you luck.” V N. Aldrich, M.D.,

Psychiatrist HI.

Milo said, “If there’s anything anyone can tell me that might help…”

No responses. Then a bald, dark-bearded man said, “Claire seemed very nice, but I can’t say I knew her.” C. Steen-burg, Ph.D.

The third man was short and ruddy. D. Swenson, M.D. He shook his head. “She was comparatively new, wasn’t she, Vern?”

Aldrich said, “Just a few months. I was her nominal supervisor on a few cases. Her work was fine.”

“Nominal?” I said.

“I’m the senior psychiatrist on day shift, so, officially, she reported to me. But she didn’t need much supervision. Very bright. I’m terribly sorry about what happened. We all are.”

Nods all around.

“What kind of work did she do here?” I said.

“Mostly behavior modification-setting up contingency schedules-rewards for good behavior, withdrawal of privileges for infractions. That kind of thing.” Aldrich

smiled. “I won’t claim to be an expert on her work product. We’re pretty autonomous around here. Claire was very well trained, used to work at County General.”

“Any idea why she transferred?” I said.

“She said she needed a change. I got a sense she didn’t want to talk about it. My feeling is that she’d simply had enough of what she was doing. I used to be in private practice, retired, got bored with golf, came here.”

“Did you get the sense that she needed more human contact than neuropsych provided?”

I asked. It was a psychologist’s question, not a cop’s, and Aldrich studied me.

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