“I don’t know… those places.”
“What about them?”
“Businesslike, anonymous. It’s not exactly the wayfarer’s inn,” said Gull. “And I’m really not there that often.”
“How often is not that often?” said Milo.
“I couldn’t quantify.”
“Your credit card records could.”
“My- this is absolutely-”
“You don’t consider the hotel a home away from home? Being so close to the office.”
“I don’t need a home- I paid cash.”
“Why?”
“It seemed simpler.”
“For when you bring women there.”
Gull shook his head. “This is ridiculous.”
“Ever bring Dr. Koppel there?”
“No need to, I guess,” said Milo. “What with her living so close to the office. And to your house. Make a stopover after work, then continue on to the missus and kids.”
Gull’s brow was slick and pale. “I don’t see what your point is-”
“How far would you say it is, from the office to Dr. Koppel’s? A mile?”
Gull rolled his shoulders. “Closer to two.”
“Think so?”
“All the way up Pico to Motor and then south to Cheviot.”
“Let’s split the difference,” said Milo. “Mile and a half.”
Gull shook his head. “I really think it’s closer to two.”
“Sounds like maybe you’ve clocked it, Doctor.”
“No,” said Gull. “I’m just- forget it. This is pointless.”
“You look in pretty good shape, Doctor. Work out?”
“I’ve got a treadmill at home.”
“A little mile and a half walk on a cool June night wouldn’t challenge you, would it?”
“That never happened.”
“You never walked from the Crowne Plaza to Dr. Koppel’s house.”
“Never.”
“The night she was killed,” said Milo. “Where were you?”
“At the hotel.”
“Did you call up for food?”
“No, I had dinner before I checked in.”
“Where?”
“My house.”
“Before the tiff.”
“Yes,” said Gull. He knuckled an eye. Sleeved his brow.
“You stayed in the hotel all night,” said Milo.
Gull rubbed his jaw. “I rented a movie. That’ll be on record.”
“What time?”
“Elevenish. Check.”
“I will,” said Milo, “but all that proves is you pushed a button on your remote, not that you stayed to watch.”
Gull stared at him. “This is absurd, I didn’t kill Mary.”
“What was the title of the movie?”
Gull looked away and didn’t answer.
“Doctor?”
“It was an adult film. I don’t remember the title.”
“I guess,” said Milo, “it wouldn’t help asking you to recap the plot.”
Gull managed a sickly smile.
Milo said, “When did you see Dr. Koppel last?”
“That afternoon,” said Gull. “Both of us were walking patients out to the waiting room, and we said hi. That was the last time.”
“No tryst later that evening?”
“No. That was over.”
“What was?”
“Mary and I.”
“Who broke it off?”
“It was mutual,” said Gull.
“Because?”
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
Milo flipped his pad open, scanned his notes. “Alternatively,” he said, “if you didn’t walk to her house, you could’ve called a cab.”
“I didn’t.”
“It can be verified, Doctor.”
“Verify to your heart’s content.”
Milo slapped the pad shut. Gull gave a start and wiped his brow with his sleeve again.
“Doctor, why did Gavin Quick dump you as a therapist?”
“He didn’t
“Why?”
“That’s confidential.”
“No it’s not,” barked Milo. “Gavin lost his privilege when someone shot him. Why’d he
Gull’s arms had gone rigid, and his palms pressed against the seat cushions, as if bracing himself for takeoff.
“I’m not going to talk to you anymore,” he said. “Not without a lawyer.”
“You’re aware of how that makes you look.”
“I assert my rights, and it makes me look bad?”
“If you’ve got nothing to hide, why have concern about rights?”
“Because,” said Gull, “I don’t want to live in a police state. With
“Really? I heard it was doctors.”
Gull’s smile faltered. He burned some calories restoring it. “That’s it. Not another word.” He drew a finger across his lips.
“Sure,” said Milo, rising. “No sweat.”
CHAPTER 26
As we left Gull’s office, he got on the phone.
Out in the hallway, Milo said, “Lawyering up.”
I said, “What did it was your question about Gavin transferring to Koppel.”
“Some deep dark secret,” he said. “Something that makes him look bad.”
