Self-Defence

But they're still fucking psychopaths.'

'There's actually a theory to that effect,' I said. 'Psychopathy as a form of creativity. And you're right, there's no shortage of artistically brilliant people who had low moral IQ's: Degas, Wagner, Ezra Pound, Philip Larkin. From what I hear Picasso was pretty hard to live with.'

'So why are people so goddamn stupid?'

'Naaivete, wanting to believe the best about others- who knows? And it's not just the creative bunch who buys into it. Years ago, social psychologists discovered something called the halo effect. Most people have no trouble believing that if you're good at one thing it transfers to unrelated areas. It's why athletes get rich endorsing products.'

'Yeah,' he said. 'Trafficant shoulda stuck around. Somebody would have paid him to endorse cutlery.'

'Lowell set him loose on society. Dropped him in a totally unstructured situation full of booze, dope, groupies. And cute little kids.'

He laughed wearily. 'Get us together, feeling like failures, and we do build a nice house of cards. I'll grant you it's interesting- scumbag on the loose almost always spells some kind of trouble. But like you said, Lucy could have read about him or heard about him from her brother. Maybe the goddamn dream is pure fiction.'

'Could be,' I admitted. 'He got plenty of media coverage.'

'Much as I like her, she's got problems, right? The head in the oven, this paranoid talk about someone trying to kill her. And those hang-up calls. I feel like a bum saying this, but now that I know she's been wanting to get close to me, I'd be an idiot not to wonder if she made them up to get attention. Even the way she tried to kill herself has a touch of that, doesn't it? Gas, with the drapes open?'

He gulped down the rest of his beer and looked at me.

'Yes, there is a hysterical quality to it,' I said. 'But let's be charitable and assume that even if she is making things up it's out of neediness rather than manipulation. That still doesn't eliminate the possibility that something traumatized her that summer. Don't forget, she's not trumpeting herself as a victim or trying to make anything out of the dream. On the contrary, she tends to minimize things, just as she did with the hang-ups. She's an ostrich, Milo, blocking out that entire summer. My gut tells me something happened when she was four and it's stuck down in her unconscious. Something that relates- directly or indirectly- to Lowell. She's not the only one with strong feelings about him. The half brother called him a total sonofabitch. He's in the real estate business and his big fantasy's foreclosing on Dad's land. Maybe that summer was bad for all the Lowell kids.'

'Okay,' he said. 'Let's say we do somehow get to the bottom of it, find out Daddy did do something terrible twenty-one years ago. And let's assume Lucy gets herself to a point where she can deal with it. Then what? Bring the bastard to the bar of justice? You know what uncorroborated memories are worth in court. And the fact that it came out in therapy makes it even weaker. Nowadays prosecutors assume anything retrieved in a shrink's office is bullshit till proven otherwise. Too many cases thrown out of court, too much pop-psych crap, satanic bullshit- if you feel you've been abused, you have been.'

'Baby-with-the-bathwater,' I said, 'just like when the courts tossed out hypnotic evidence. But you know as well as I do hypnosis does help some witnesses remember facts. And plenty of patients do retrieve valid memories during therapy. I've seen dozens of corroborations. The key is never to plant anything in a patient's head and never to lead. Stay skeptical as hell but keep it to yourself, and if you end up with something, check it out to the max.'

'I know, I know, I'm just saying it's an uphill battle.'

'Look, even if it never goes anywhere legally, I think, at some point, knowing what really happened- or didn't- will help her.'

'What if we learn Daddy did something, can't touch him legally, and the bastard gets away with it? What does that do to her psyche?'

'So what do you suggest, drop it?'

'I'm not suggesting anything, just creating problems to keep your mind active.'

'What a pal,' I said. 'Anyway, it's probably theoretical. After the way the last session went, I doubt Lucy'll want to see me. Maybe she'll hook up with Embrey- maybe seeing a woman will make it easier. Whoever her therapist turns out to be, they'll need to know what's going on.'

'Think they'll keep her in past the seventy-two?'

'Not unless she really falls apart. It's what'll happen when she gets out that worries me.'

Neither of us spoke for a while. I thought of all the possibilities we'd just raised. Wondered if Lucy would connect with Embrey. I found myself hoping so.

'What?' he said.

'That summer,' I said. 'At least we could try to narrow things down by finding out if any dark-haired girls were reported raped or murdered or missing in Topanga that summer. If they were, we've got possible corroboration. If not, that will also define the focus of Lucy's therapy. Either way, she doesn't need to be told until the time's right.'

'Narrow things, huh?'

'I can't see it hurting.'

He scraped a tooth with a fingernail. 'Guess I could make a call to Malibu Sheriffs. It's a low-crime neighborhood, there shouldn't be too much paper to wade through, assuming they keep their old files. I can also look into any public records on Mr. Trafficant. When exactly was this party?'

'August- mid-August.'

He took out his notepad and wrote it down. His beer glass was empty and he reached for a breadstick.

'Hope she heals,' he said softly.

'Amen.'

Twirling the breadstick, he put it down. 'Haven't had lunch yet. You in any mood to eat?'

'Not really.'

'Me neither.'

11

He'd left his unmarked around the corner from the restaurant, in a loading zone, and a meter maid was approaching it with a predatory look in her eyes.

Milo flashed his badge, wagged his finger, and grinned. The meter maid snorted, returned to her buggy, and putt-putted away.

'Power!' he said. 'Intoxicating as fine cognac and it won't damage your liver.'

As he got in the car, I said, 'Anything new on the Santa Ana murder?'

'Shwandt's lawyers are going to use it as grounds for a mistrial.'

'You're kidding.'

'In lawyer logic, the similarity between this one and the Bogeyman murders casts doubt on Jobe's guilt for all of them. We only had physical evidence on Carrie, Marie Rosenhut, and Berna Mendoza. All the others were circumstantial.'

'So what? He still did those three.'

'Three versus fifteen. The victim load- their phrase- prejudiced the jury against him and was responsible for the death penalty. They want a retrial on Carrie and the other two physicals, too- fruit of the poisoned tree or some shit like that.'

'Absurd,' I said. 'Like you said, anyone who'd been at the trial or read the transcripts would have had enough information to copycat.'

He put his hand on my shoulder.

'Logic has nothing to do with it. It's a game. There's a whole subspecies of sharpies makes a living filing death penalty appeals. They've got it down to a science, and we pay for it with our taxes.'

He shook his head and laughed.