Split Image

'My mother knows very little, and fears many things. But she pretends to know a lot and fear nothing.'

'That must be difficult for her,' Dr. Silverman said.

'It makes her hysterical much of the time,' Sunny said. 'Although of course she would deny it.'

Dr. Silverman nodded.

'And my sister is much like her. She doesn't know much, either, but she substitutes beliefs. She believes in having gone to a good school. She believes in being with a man who's gone to a good school… and has prestige… and money.'

'And that has not worked out for her.'

'No, she's gone through husbands and boyfriends and careers without any success in any of them.'

'So what she believes hasn't worked for her,' Dr. Silverman said.

'God, no,' Sunny said. 'She doesn't believe in anything real. But her failures have simply made her more entrenched in her silliness. Both of them are, like my father says, often wrong but never uncertain.'

'Is she hysterical much of the time as well?'

'Absolutely.'

'Would she admit it?' Dr. Silverman said.

'Absolutely not,' Sunny said.

They sat quietly. Dr. Silverman was as pulled together as always: dark skirt, white shirt, very little jewelry, conservative heels. Probably part of the work wardrobe. Don't distract the patient. Her makeup was subtle and quiet. Her nails were manicured and polished.

'They're emotionally disheveled,' Sunny said.

Dr. Silverman nodded.

'And they were my role models growing up,' Sunny said.

'So you assumed that all women were emotionally disheveled?'

'I didn't want to be like them,' Sunny said.

'Who did you want to be like?'

'My father. I don't mean I wanted to be a man. I mean I didn't want to be disheveled.'

Dr. Silverman nodded.

'What part did your father play in all this?' she said.

'He took care of them,' Sunny said. 'Still does. Maybe he enables them, I don't know.'

'Why do you suppose he takes care of them?' Dr. Silverman said.

'He's stuck,' Sunny said. 'He loves them.'

'And he loves you,' Dr. Silverman said.

'Yes, but he doesn't take care of me.'

'Tell me again why your marriage broke up,' Dr. Silverman said.

'I guess we were just too different. I mean, my father's a cop. His father's a crook.'

'So what drew you to him?'

'He was so complete, and he loved me,' she said.

'But Richie wasn't in the family business, you told me.'

'No,' Sunny said. 'I believe that he wasn't.'

'So why did you break up?'

Sunny sat silently, looking at Dr. Silverman. The question was simple enough. Why did we break up? The silence lengthened. Dr. Silverman didn't seem uncomfortable. She simply sat back in her chair and waited. She trusts me to get this on my own.

'Jesus Christ,' Sunny said.

Dr. Silverman cocked her head and looked attentive.

'It's because he's complete,' Sunny said. 'Because he's like my father, and it made me feel like my mother and sister.'

Dr. Silverman smiled. Good girl, Sunny said to herself.

'His virtue is his vice,' Dr. Silverman said.

50

ON THE PHONE Liquori said, 'I got your message. I guess Ray Mulligan slipped through a crack for a while.'

'You know where he is?' Jesse said.

'Not quite,' Liquori said. 'But I got his parole officer.'

'Who might know where he is,' Jesse said.

'He's supposed to,' Liquori said. 'Name's Mark Bloom.'

Liquori gave Bloom's phone number to Jesse. Jesse wrote it down.

'You talk to him?' Jesse said.

'Nope, thought you oughta talk to him. It's your case.'

'Weren't you up here a little while ago acting like it was your case?' Jesse said.

'That's 'cause Healy asked me,' Liquori said.

'And if I asked you?'

'Healy's a state police captain. You ain't,' Liquori said. 'Hell, Jesse, I'm giving you the parole officer.'

'Yeah,' Jesse said. 'Good. I'll call him.'

He hung up.

'For crissake,' he said to the empty office, 'I'm the chief of police.'

Then he dialed the number of Ray Mulligan's parole officer.

'Until a couple weeks ago he lived in your town,' Bloom said. 'Now he's got a one-roomer in Salem on Lafayette Street. Up toward the college.'

'You know why he moved?' Jesse said.

'Worked on an estate on Paradise Neck,' Bloom said. 'And lived there in a guesthouse. Couple weeks ago they fired him and he had to move out.'

'Know the people he worked for?'

'Family named Moynihan,' Bloom said.

'What kind of work did he do?'

'Chauffeur,' Bloom said.

Jesse snorted quietly on the phone.

'Know why they fired him?' he said.

'Told me he thought the wife had it in for him,' Bloom said.

'Say why?'

'Claimed he didn't know.'

'What's he doing now?' Jesse said.

'Living off severance pay, looking for work. Severance was generous,' Bloom said.

'How much did he get?' Jesse said.

'Enough,' Bloom said.

'How much?'

'I'm sorry, Chief, unless it's clearly germane to your case, I feel that is confidential between me and my parolee.'

'Your parolee,' Jesse said.

'Yes,' Bloom said. 'He's served his time. He now deserves the same consideration as anyone else.'

'You take your job seriously,' Jesse said.

'I do. My first responsibility is to protect the public, and my second is to help the parolee.'

'Ever a conflict?' Jesse said.

'Of course,' Bloom said. 'I deal with it on a case-by-case basis.'

'Good for you,' Jesse said. 'I'll need to talk with him.'

'Okay,' Bloom said.

He gave Jesse the phone number.

'I'll need to talk with him in person,' Jesse said.

Bloom gave Jesse the address.

'I'll meet you out front,' Bloom said.

'No,' Jesse said. 'Thanks. I'll need to talk with him alone.'

'How come,' Bloom said.

'I may need him to tell me things that will get him in trouble with you.'