Drop Shot

'That doesn't explain your visiting me incognito.'

'I'm investigating her murder.'

'Investigating?'

Myron nodded.

'Who hired you?'

'No one.'

'Then why are you investigating?'

'I have my reasons.'

She nodded. 'What are those reasons, Myron? I'd like to hear about them.'

Psychiatrists. 'You want me to also tell you about the time I walked in on Mommy and Daddy?'

'If you want.'

'I don't want. What I want is to know what caused Valerie's breakdown.'

Her response was rote. 'I can neither confirm nor deny that Valerie Simpson was ever a patient of mine.'

'Doctor-patient privilege?'

'That's right.'

'But Valerie is dead.'

'That doesn't alter my obligation in the slightest.'

'She's been murdered. Gunned down in cold blood.'

'I understand that. Dramatics will not alter my obligation either.'

'But you may know something helpful.'

'Helpful in what way?'

'In finding the killer.'

She folded the tiny hands in her lap. Like a little girl in church. 'And that's what you're attempting to do? Find this woman's killer?'

'Yes.'

'What about the police? I understood from news reports that they have a suspect.'

'I don't trust authority types,' Myron said.

'Oh?'

'It's one of the reasons I want to help.'

Dr. Abramson fixed him with the big eyes. 'I don't think so, Myron.'

'No?'

'You look more like the rescue-complex sort to me. The kind of man who likes to play hero all the time, who sees himself as a knight in shining armor. What do you think?'

'I think we should save my analysis for later.'

She shrugged her little shoulders. 'Just giving my opinion. No extra charge.'

'Fine.' Extra charge? 'I'm not so sure the police have the right man.'

'Why not?'

'I was hoping you could help me with that. Valerie must have talked about Roger Quincy's stalking her. Did she think he was dangerous?'

'For the final time, I will neither confirm nor deny-'

'I'm not asking you to. I'm asking about Roger Quincy. You don't have a relationship with him, do you?'

'I also don't know him.'

'Then how about one of those quick opinions. Like you did with me.'

She shook her head. 'I'm sorry.'

'There's no way I can convince you to talk to me?'

'About a possible patient? No.'

'Suppose I got parental consent.'

'You won't.'

Myron waited, watched. She was better at this than him. Her face gave away nothing, but the words couldn't be taken back. 'How do you know that?' he asked.

She remained silent. Her eyes dropped to the floor. Myron wondered if the faux pas had been on purpose.

'They called you already, didn't they?' Myron said.

'I'm not at liberty to discuss any communications between myself and-'

'The family called. They hushed you up.'

'I will neither confirm-'

'The body is barely cold and they're already covering their tracks,' Myron went on. 'You don't see anything wrong with that?'

Dr. Abramson cleared her throat. 'I do not know what you're talking about it, but I will say this: it is not unreasonable in situations such as the one you've described to me for parents to want to protect their daughter's memory.'

'Protect her memory' – Myron rose, put on his best lawyer-in-summation glower – 'or her murderer?' Mr. High Drama.

'Now you're being silly,' she said. 'You surely don't suspect the young woman's family.'

Myron sat back down. He gave his best anything's-possible head tilt. 'Helen Van Slyke's daughter is killed. Within hours the grieving mother calls you to make sure you keep your mouth shut. You don't find that a tad odd?'

'I will neither confirm nor deny that I have ever heard the name Helen Van Slyke.'

'I see,' Myron said. 'So you think this should all be shoved aside. Bottled up. Let the image rule over the reality. Somehow I don't think that sits well with you, Doc.'

She said nothing.

'Your patient is dead,' Myron continued. 'Don't you think your obligation should be to her, not her mother?'

Dr. Abramson's hands tightened into small balls for a moment, then relaxed. She took a deep breath, held it, let out it slowly. 'Let us pretend – and just pretend – that I was the psychiatrist for this young woman. Wouldn't I have an obligation not to betray what she told me in the strictest of confidences? If the patient chose not to reveal any of this while alive, wouldn't I have an obligation to uphold that right for her in death?'

Myron stared at her. Dr. Abramson stared back. Unyielding. 'Nice speech,' he said. 'But maybe Valerie wanted to reveal something. And maybe someone killed her to deny her that right.'

The bright eyes blinked several times. 'I think you should leave now,' she said.

She pressed a button on her intercom. The receptionist appeared at the door. He crossed his arms and tried to look intimidating. The attempt was hardly a rousing success.

Myron rose. He knew he had planted a seed. He would have to give it time to germinate. 'Will you at least think about it?' he added.

'Good-bye, Myron.'

The receptionist stepped aside, allowing Myron room to pass.

Chapter 19

Of the three witnesses to the murder of Alexander Cross – all college chums of the deceased – only one lived in the New York area. Gregory Caufield, Jr., was now a young associate at daddy's law firm of Stillen, Caufield, and Weston, a high-powered, high-profile firm with offices in several states and foreign countries.

Myron dialed, asked for Gregory Caufield, Jr., and was put on hold. A woman came on the line several seconds later and said, 'I'll put you straight through to Mr. Caufield.'

A click. One ring. Then an enthusiastic voice said, 'Well, hi!'

Well, hi?

'Is this Gregory Caufield?'

'Sure is. What can I do for you today?'

'My name is Myron Bolitar.'

'Uh-huh.'

'And I'd like to make an appointment to see you.'

'Sure. When?'

'As soon as possible.'

'How about half an hour from now? Will that be okay?'

'That'll be fine, thank you.'

'Super, Myron. Looking forward to it.'

Click. Super?

Fifteen minutes later Myron was on his way. He walked up Park Avenue past the mosque steps where Myron and Win liked to lunch on summer days. Prime woman- watching perch. New York has the most beautiful women in the world, bar none. They wear business attire and sneakers and sunglasses. They walk with cool purpose,