Myrna Wimmer said, “Oh, please.”
Milo said, “You read the charges.”
Gull said, “Myrna—”
Wimmer said, “What it means, Franco, is that you’ll have to go with them.” Disapproval in her voice. As if Gull had disappointed her. “Where will you be booking him, Lieutenant?”
“Charges like these?” said Milo. “Gotta be the main jail.”
Gull said, “Jail? Oh, God, no.”
Wimmer smiled at Milo. “Could you do me a favor and book him at West L.A.? Save me the drive?”
“Book him?” said Gull. “Myrna, how can you just—”
Milo said, “No can do, Counselor, sorry.”
Wimmer looked ready to spit.
Gull’s eyes had filled with tears. “Myrna, I can’t do this.”
She said, “Does your wife have access to your finances? If so, I’ll call her and we’ll get to work on bail. If not—”
“Bail? Myrna, this is insane—”
“Is that an official diagnosis, Doctor?” said Milo.
“Please,” said Gull, backing off some more and pressing against the glass. “You don’t know what you’re doing, I’ve never done any of what you say I’ve done. Please.” Sucking in breath. “Please.”
Milo said, “Turn and place your hands on Ms. Wimmer’s desk, Doctor. If you’re carrying any weapons or illicit substances, now would be the time to tell me.”
“Murder?” Gull was shouting. “What the hell are you talking about? Murder? Are you insane?” He opened his hand and the hankie fluttered to the carpet. As he watched it fall, his knees buckled, but he managed to stay upright.
Myrna Wimmer said, “Calm down, Franc—”
“Calm down? Easy for you to say, you’re not the one—”
“As your advocate, Franco, I advise you not to say anything—”
“All I’m saying is I never did anything, what’s wrong with saying I never did anything?”
Milo said, “Hands on the desk, please.” He began walking toward Gull. “Franco Gull, you have the right to remain silent—”
Gull’s powerful physique tensed. He doubled over, began to weep. “Oh, God, how can this be happening!”
Myrna Wimmer shot me a hope-you’re-happy glare.
Milo jangled the cuffs. Gull stepped forward, placed his hands on the desk. Wept some more.
Milo bent one of Gull’s arms behind his back and cuffed it. Gull cried out.
“Are you hurting my client?” demanded Wimmer.
“Maybe psychologically,” said Milo. “Not too tight, is it, Doctor?”
“God, God,” said Gull. “What can I do to fix this?”
Milo didn’t answer.
“Why are you saying I killed someone? Who? Mary? That’s crazy, Mary was my friend, we were—I never would’ve—”
Milo drew back Gull’s other arm.
Gull shouted, “What is it you want?!”
I said, “For you to be forthcoming.”
“Forthcoming about what?”
Myrna said, “Be quiet, Franco.”
“What? And let them put these on me and take me to jail?”
“Franco, I’m sure this will—”
“What I’m sure of is I never killed anyone or conspired or did any of those things!” Gull twisted to make eye contact with me. “What you’re doing is unethical. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
I said, “Feel free to file a complaint. Though I don’t imagine you’ll want to.”
He said, “What gives you the right to judge me?”
“Forthcoming,” I said, “doesn’t mean gamesmanship.” To Milo: “My opinion is we should wrap up.”
Milo placed his hand on Gull’s scruff and turned him around and placed a palm in the small of Gull’s back. “Time to go to jail, Doctor.”
Gull shouted, “Stop! Please! I’ll be forthcoming. Okay, yes, I chased a few skirts. You want to talk about that? Fine, I’m ready to talk about it. I’ve got a little problem, is that what you wanted to hear? I pleasured women, received pleasure in return, it has nothing to do with jail or murder or any other fucking bullshit that would send me to jail! And yes, that is an official diagnosis, I’m qualified to diagnose, I am a good psychologist, fucking great psychologist, all my patients get better!”
I said, “Like Gavin Quick?”
Gull said, “He—that—he wasn’t really my patient.”
“No?”
“I saw him for four, five sessions. It ended.”
“Why?”
“Take these things off, and I’ll tell you.”
“Tell us, now.”
Wimmer said, “Franco, my advice to you is to not tell them any—”