'She overcame the major problems. There were some side effects. She was agoraphobic for about a year. Lived on the grounds. Wouldn't leave. To her credit, she overcame that, too. Has a little house down the road. Bought herself a car. She's working mainly with children now, and quite successfully. Avoids pushing herself. She's a brilliant woman, as you know. Graduated
'I know that, sir,' said Vail. 'She did a remarkable job on the Stampler case.'
'That's what I'm driving at. I think it left its scars.'
'In what way?'
'I've never been quite sure. She was, uh, very subdued when she first came back. Didn't want to talk about the experience for a long time. In fact, never has except in the most clinical terms. It's certainly not an experience she cares to relive.'
'Why did you invite us over if she won't speak to us?'
'Because your problem is serious. She's strong enough now to deal with it and put it behind her.'
'Are you her therapist?'
'I have been. She is also a dear friend, has been for fifteen years. Her brother's problems contributed to the breakdown. Are you familiar with that?'
Vail nodded. 'Delayed stress syndrome from Vietnam?'
'Yes. He's catatonic. Never has recovered. Pretty tough to deal with.'
'This is certainly a pleasant atmosphere,' Vail said. 'If she had to suffer through that experience I can't think of a better place to do it. It's certainly a far cry from Daisyland.'
'Thanks. We're not much for show here,' he said.
'So Molly agreed to the meeting?'
'I told her it was a grave situation. No details. She trusts my judgement.'
'Thanks.' Vail and St Claire stood to leave. Vail turned at the door. 'By the way, Doctor, could you describe a psychopath for me? Not in heavy psychotalk, just the basics.'
Lowenstein regarded Vail for a moment, slowly nodded. 'Totally amoral, usually paranoid, harbours great rage - which he can successfully hide. Remember the boy in the Texas tower? Nobody knew how angry he was until he turned the town into a shooting gallery. Psychopaths also tend to consider others inferior, have contempt for their peers, and they're antisocial, pathological liars. Laws don't count to them.'
'Homicidal?'
'Can be. Depends on the extent of the rage. They can also be charming, intelligent, witty, often socially desirable. Why?'
'I think Aaron Stampler fits the profile perfectly.'
'A real charmer, eh?'
Vail nodded.
'Well, that's what keeps us in business, Mr Vail,' Lowenstein said, turning back to his butterfly. 'Second door on the left. She's expecting you.'
Dr Molly Arrington's sitting room adjoined her office and was a study in simple elegance. It was a small room, cosy and inviting, dominated by a forest-green chesterfield sofa with overstuffed cushions and pillows. Two dark-oak Kennedy rocking chairs balanced the searing arrangement and a large antique coffee table held the group together. The walls were papered with a grey-and-white striped pattern. A shaggy blanket with a silly-looking, wall-eyed black and white cow knitted in its centre was thrown over one arm of the sofa and there was a rube vase holding a single, enormous yellow daisy on one corner of the table. Soft light filtered through a single window, forming deep shadows in the corners of the room.
'Hello, Martin,' she said, stepping out of the shadows, her voice just above a whisper. Vail was taken aback by Molly Arrington's appearance. She was smaller than Vail remembered, her once unblemished skin creased with the ridges of time and tragedy, her ash-brown hair streaked with grey and cropped close to her ears. Her pale blue eyes had an almost haunted look. It was obvious that a year and a half in the institution had taken a toll, and yet there was about her an aura of uncompromising stubbornness in the jut of her chin and the brace of her shoulders.
'Hi, Molly. Good to see you again.'
'Ten years,' she said. 'Such a long time. You haven't changed a bit. Come in and sit down.' She smiled at St Claire. 'I'm Molly.'
