“No.”
The answer had come slowly.
“Any ideas?”
“Maybe.”
“Want to share them with me?”
He didn’t answer.
“This one may get me kicked out, but we’re both in a hurry,” I said. “Mr. Sebastian thinks you and his wife were having an affair.”
Green cocked his head and looked interested.
“You’ve already more than hinted at that. And if we were having an affair?”
“Or are,” I amended. “Well, it might suggest that she would come to you. Her husband just wants to talk to her.”
“And you just want to find her for him?”
“That’s it,” I said.
“First,” he said, getting up from his desk chair, “I am not and have not been having an affair with Melanie, Mrs. Sebastian. In fact, Mr. Fonesca, I can offer more than ample evidence that I am gay. It’s a relatively open secret, which, in fact, hasn’t hurt my practice at all. I get the gay clients, men and women, and I get women who feel more comfortable talking to me than they would a straight male or female. I don’t get many straight men.”
“You can somehow prove that?” I asked. “Or do I just take your word?”
“The truth is,” he said, looking at his watch, “I don’t have the time to prove it nor the desire, but I’m sure if you ask in the right circles, you’ll get the confirmation you need.”
The chair was comfortable. I was tempted to lean back.
“Okay, let’s say you’re gay.”
“Let’s say.”
“You could still be a friend of Melanie Sebastian. She was, or still is, a patient. She might be inclined to confide in you.”
“She might,” he said, standing up and smiling. “In which case, I couldn’t tell you.”
“Dilemma,” I said.
“It would appear.”
“I told Sebastian that when I found her I wouldn’t tell him where she was if she didn’t want to be found. When I find her, I’ll do my best to persuade her to talk to her husband or tell me why she won’t.”
“When,” he said. “Not if. You don’t look like a terribly confident man, Mr. Fonesca.”
“About most things I’m not. About finding people, I am.”
“You’ll have to excuse me,” he said, checking his watch again.
“If she gets in touch with you, please give her my card or my number. I just want to talk.”
He took the card and gave me a sympathetic smile.
“May I ask a somewhat personal question, Mr. Fonesca?”
“I don’t think I’m your type, Doctor.”
He chuckled. It sounded sincere.
“No, I’ve seen a great many people with severe depression. I’ve learned to recognize some of the signs, and-”
“I’ve already got a shrink,” I said. “And I couldn’t afford your rates.”
“How do you know?”
“Friend told me,” I said. “Besides, I’m straight. You don’t take straight males.”
“I said I don’t get many of them. I didn’t say I turned them away. Normally when a patient leaves I ask them to go out that door so patients don’t run into each other, but since Dorothy has already seen you-”
“And I’m not a patient.”
“And you’re not a patient. You can go out the front through the waiting room.”
He ushered me to the office door and opened it, saying,
“I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more help.”
“I’m used to it,” I said. “I’m patient. Time is one thing I have too much of. Too much time and so little to do.”
“Spoken like a true depressive,” he said. “I don’t expect to be talking to or seeing Mrs. Sebastian, but if I do I’ll give her your message. I don’t think she’ll talk to you.”
“I’ll be in touch,” I said.
“Take one of my cards on the way out,” he said, and then, looking past me, addressed the nervous young woman with “Come right in, Dorothy.”
Dorothy waited till I was clear of the door, pressed her lips together and entered the inner sanctum. The door closed.
I stood for a few seconds watching the fountain in the small courtyard.
With two hours till I had to pick up Beryl Tree for our appointment with Sally Porovsky, I headed for the legal offices of Tycinker, Oliver and Schwartz. I had served papers for all three of the partners in the past and had gotten to know Harvey. Harvey did the computer work for the trio and was well paid for his expert services. He had a small, well-equipped room down a corridor near the washrooms where the secretaries could watch him. Harvey had a drinking problem. The secretaries were under orders to report all of his arrivals and departures. Harvey knew this, agreed to it and wanted it. It seemed to help him cut back on his drinking. Harvey did not want to lose this job. The question was whether he needed computers or alcohol more.
Harvey’s drinking, which had slowed considerably since I first met him, was tolerated because Harvey was a genius. I was on a straight retainer with the firm of T, O amp; S. I served papers at no fee. My retainer came in the form of access to Harvey whenever I needed him, provided I didn’t abuse the privilege.
Some of what Harvey did bordered on the illegal. Part of his unwritten and unspoken agreement with T, O amp; S was that he would solemnly swear that all the information he obtained on the Net was legally obtained.
Harvey could access information from the police- any police with a computer-credit agencies, banks, hotels, almost every major corporation, the Pentagon, the FBI and probably even the shopping lists of the wives of every member of the Israeli intelligence community.
I found Harvey in his windowless office drinking club soda and studying something on the computer screen in front of him.
Harvey looks more like an ex-movie star than a computer hacker. Harvey is tall, dark, wears a suit and tie, and sports short hair of gold. He’s MTT but you wouldn’t know it from his looks.
“Harvey,” I said.
He grunted something and then made an effort to pull his attention from the screen.
“Lewis Fonesca,” he said. “Looking as happy as ever. Here for work or a sports tip for the week? If it’s a sports tip, go with Duke over North Carolina if you can get three-two or an even bet with a six-point spread. The screen tells me.”
“Work,” I said, handing him the folder on Melanie Sebastian. He opened it and went through the documents slowly.
“Who prepared this?”
“Her husband.”
“Good job. You want the Tuesday special or…”
“She left, pulled the money out of their joint accounts. You have the numbers of the accounts, the list of credit cards and numbers, GTE calling card, whatever else you can turn up. He wants her found.”
“Take me about ten minutes if I don’t hit any problems. You want to wait?”
I said I did and took a seat while Harvey hit keys, moved a mouse, moved to another computer, hummed something that sounded like a busy signal and said things to himself like “Uh-uh-uh-uh” and “Here I come. Here I come.” Fifteen minutes after he started, Harvey turned to me and said.
“She hasn’t used any of her credit cards for the last week. She hasn’t rented a car or taken a plane out of Sarasota, Tampa, Fort Myers, Orlando, St. Pete, Miami in the last four days, at least not under her own name. She
