“I mean,” she said, “I could sue or something.”
“No one to sue, Carmen. If you’re talking about Dr. Ransom, she’s dead. She killed herself too.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God, I didn’t… I mean, I ya know
She crossed herself, squeezed her temples, stared at the ceiling.
“Carmen, none of this is your fault. You’re a victim.”
She shook her head.
“A victim. I want you to understand that.”
“I- I don’t understand nothing.” Tears. “This is all too ya know… too… I don’t understand it.”
I leaned forward, smelled her anguish. “Carmen, I’ll stay here with you as long as you need me to. All right? All right, Carmen?”
Nod.
A half hour passed before she’d composed herself, and when she dried her eyes she seemed to have regained some dignity as well.
“You’re very nice,” she said. “I’m okay. You can go now.”
“What about Dr. Small- the therapist I want you to see?”
“I dunno.”
“Just one time.”
Wan smile. “Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
I took her hand, held it for a moment, then went to the front desk and told Bea to watch her. I used a phone in an empty examining room to call Ada. The operator at her service told me she was about to go into session.
“It’s an emergency,” I said, and was patched through.
“Alex,” said Ada. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ve got a young woman in crisis that I’d like you to see as soon as possible. It’s not a choice referral, Ada- she’s on Medi-Cal and is anything but insightful. But when I tell you the details I think you’ll agree it’s important that she be seen.”
“Tell me.”
When I was through, she said, “How terrible. You were right to call, Alex. I can stay and see her at seven. Can she get here by then?”
“I’ll see that she does. Thanks so much, Ada.”
“My pleasure, Alex. I’ve got a patient waiting, so I can’t linger.”
“I understand. Thanks again.”
“No problem. I’ll call you after I’ve seen her.”
I went back to the private office and gave the number to Carmen.
“It’s all arranged,” I said. “Dr. Small will see you at seven tonight.”
“Okay.”
I squeezed her hand and left, caught Leslie between examining rooms, and told her what I’d arranged.
“How’s she look to you?” she asked.
“Pretty fragile and she’s still cushioned by shock. The next few days could get really bad. She doesn’t have any support system. It’s really important for her to be seeing someone.”
“Makes sense. Where’s this therapist’s office?”
“Brentwood. San Vicente near Barrington.” I gave her the address and the time of the appointment.
“Perfect. I live in Santa Monica. I’ll be leaving the office around six-thirty. I’ll take her there myself. Until then, we’ll babysit her.” A moment’s hesitation. “This person you’re referring to is good?”
“The best. I’ve seen her myself.”
That bit of self-disclosure had reassured Carmen but it irritated her doctor.
“California honesty,” she said. Then: “Jesus, I’m sorry. You’ve really been nice, coming here on no notice- it’s just that I’ve become a total cynic. I know it’s not healthy. I’ve got to get myself to where I can trust people again.”
“It’s tough,” I said, thinking of my own crumbling sense of trust.
She fiddled with an earring. “Listen, I really do want to thank you for coming down here. Tell me what your fee is and I’ll write a check right now.”
“Forget it,” I said.
“No, I insist. I like to pay as I go.”
“No way, Leslie. I never expected to get paid.”
“You’re sure? I just want you to know I’m not into exploitation.”
“I never suspected you were.”
She looked uncomfortable. Removed her stethoscope and passed it from hand to hand.
“I know the first time you were here I sounded pretty mercenary, just out for myself. All I can say is, that’s really not me. I did want to call those patients, kept batting it back and forth in my mind. I don’t blame myself for Rasmussen’s death- he was a time bomb. It was only a matter of when. But it has made me realize I have to take responsibility, start acting like a physician. When I left you with Carmen, I went to the phone and started calling. I got through to a couple of the women. They sounded okay, said their men are okay, too, which I hope is true. Actually, it went better than I thought- they were less hostile than the first time. Maybe I got through, I don’t know. But at least I made contact. I’ll try until I reach all of them, let the darned chips fall where they may.”
“For what it’s worth, you’re doing the right thing.”
“It’s worth plenty,” she said, with sudden intensity. Then she looked embarrassed and glanced at the door of one of the examining rooms. “Well, I’ve got to be going, try to hang on to the patients I have. Thanks again.”
Hesitation.
She stood on tiptoes, kissed me on the cheek. Caught by surprise, I moved my head and our lips brushed.
“That was stupid,” she said.
Before I could tell her it hadn’t been, she went in to see her next patient.
18
It was close to five by the time I reached the University. The psych building was emptying and only one secretary remained in the department office. I headed straight for the faculty roster and thumbed through it without her commenting. Maybe it was the corduroy jacket. Kruse was already listed in the directory as chairman; his office number was 4302. I took note of his home address- same place in Pacific Palisades.
I ran up the four flights, aware, suddenly, that my energy had returned; for the first time in a long while I felt imbued with purpose, righteous with anger.
Nothing like an enemy to cleanse one’s soul.
His office was at the end of a long white hall. Carved mahogany double doors had replaced the usual departmental plywood. The floor in front of the doorway was tarped with sawdust-coated canvas. From inside came the sound of sawing and banging.
The doors were unlocked. I walked into an outer office and found workmen laying parquet tile and hammering in mahogany molding, others on ladders painting the walls a rich, glossy burgundy. Brass wall
