“Recent disclosures suggest that Sasha continuedgetting Adderall or generic amphetamines from a new source after she left you.”It wasn’t a complete lie: Becca Milstein suspected it, it sounded likely, andKerri wanted to see this doctor’s reaction. “Would you know anything aboutthat?”
“No.” His hand gestured as if pushing awaythe question. “And even if I did, patient privilege extends after a patient’sdemise – if that’s what happened. I wouldn’t divulge anything even if Iknew – how would you imagine otherwise?”
Kerri said nothing, letting him squirm inthe silence. She had researched him before coming. He disliked cops but wasloved by poor people and students – treated many free of charge or took Medicaidas well as regular payment; also taught at the U and lectured tirelessly aboutHIV avoidance and the urgency of free college education. His big ego enjoyedhis saintly status, his planned photo ops in old shirts and jeans at soupkitchens and free clinics and basketball with poor kids.
“You done?” asked the saint, fiddling withhis cell phone, muttering about Friday night ferry schedules to Fire Island.
“Well, I’m afraid your name’s back on ourminds,” Kerri lied again. “We’ve had another arrest for falsifying narcoticsprescriptions, this time tracing to a source citing you as the referral.What say you to that?”
He looked at her, then tried to laugh butpaled a little. “Are you kidding?” He gestured angrily. “I wouldn’t go near somethinglike that. I had nothing to do with Ms. Perry’s falsifying her prescription inthe first place – now you’re suggesting I’m involved in some kind of-”
“Network?” Kerri supplied, flicking anotherlook around the room.
He leaned back, feigning disgust at thisdumb cop’s questions. “This is a silly conversation,” he said, then got up.“Now if you’ll excuse me.”
Kerri stayed in her seat. “You live inChelsea, don’t you? On West 23rd in a penthouse with lovely gardens? And agardener who comes in, and a basketball court at one end of the garden whereyou entertain friends and students and even hold an occasional fundraiser? I readabout it.”
“So?” His face stiffened.
“Those are expensive digs. Three millionyou paid for it two years ago?”
“What of it?”
“You treat many patients for free or justtake Medicaid. Even with regular insurance, a garden penthouse in Chelsea is expensivefor a physician, whereas illegal prescription drugs are big business, just huge-”
“I have inherited money. Goddammit, this isoffensive.”
Kerri looked at his left hand. “Not thatmuch inherited, I checked.” No, she hadn’t; she had no idea how much he had andwas winging this. She put her hand to her heart. “Really doctor, considering yourfine work and the community adoration you’ve built, I’d hate to see your nameback in the papers.”
“Get out.” His voice dropped and he glared.“I’ve given enough time to your bullshit.”
Kerri rose. “Fine, it’s your choice if youwant to…obstruct.” She emphasized the word, really dragged it out. “By the way- are you divorced yet or just separated?”
He froze.
She indicated his left hand. “Recentlyseparated, I’m guessing. Ring tan line’s still discernible. Did your wifeinsist that you wear it? Was that a bummer? I read about the domestic abusecalls to your home. I’d hate to see that too back in the news.”
Allen stared at her; breathed in, swallowed.“I know why you’re doing this.”
Kerri stepped away from him, not answering.She had him defensive and limp now, not objecting to her survey of photos onthe wall, more photos behind his desk.
“What’s this?”
Allen barely glanced. “Photo of me with ahomeless guy who needed meds. You’re doing this because you’re the one cop leftvowed publicly to solve what happened to Sasha Perry. You want to build yourcareer on that poor kid’s-”
“Nonsense,” she told him scornfully. “What’sthis?”
Barely glanced, seething. “It’s a boat.”
“Yours?” She’d seen it behind his desk themoment she entered.
“No! It’s…faculty friends going out for asail. Listen, it wasn’t that way about my breakup. She was theabusive one, she was screwing around. It’s harassment to threaten mewith more media lies…”
He droned, so caught up in defending himselfthat he waved a tense hand - “Whatever!” – when she asked to take a quick pictureof the grinning group before the docked sailboat. Ben Allen, Carl Finn and PaulBarron, with Finn planted boisterously in front of the other two, hamming it upand hoisting beer cases.
The same photo as on Carl Finn’s Facebookpage.
Her gut had led her here, now her heartpounded. She had felt her way through BS questions guessing that this doctor onSasha’s first faked prescription might have lead to...
Allen referred twice to Sasha as “that poorkid.” She was troubled, he cared about her, knew the cops were watching him andmay have sent her on to Carl Finn - also an M.D. but off authorities’ radar.
Well, this was something: an established connectionbetween the two men and Sasha.
Ben Allen was back in his chair, frowningand dour; barely responded when Kerri thanked him and left.
Why so troubled if he’s clean? she wonderedas she headed to her Bronco. Then stopped; felt her heart kick higher as she wonderedhow much Allen had cared about Sasha – then heard Becca again: “Maybeit was some guy with a jealous wife or girlfriend.”
Huh? Wait a minute. She suddenly felthyper.
The head was spinning. She needed someoneto help her think, she decided, driving off.
20
“Don’t eat,” she toldAlex, peeling left, beating a yellow light.
“Ever?” he asked.
“No, now. Come to my place, I feel like cooking,have new thoughts about the Perry case and a raging need to get the hands busyinstead of the busting head-” A horn blasted. She’d just swerved past an Audi onEighth, had made it up to Midtown in record time.
“You speeding again?”
“Who me? Never!”
“You’re going to get caught one of thesedays. Some rookie in blue’s gonna pull you over and be really surprised.”
“Won’t happen.”
“You also sound too energetic for Friday atsix. That’s not normal.”
“I’m revved. Cooking helps me think - besides,how long since you’ve eaten healthy?”
“Not since you brought in that chicken Whatchamacallit.”
“Marengo.” It was an impulsive chance toslip in something else. “Doesn’t your girlfriend cook?”
Hesitation, then: “Things aren’t going sowell there, she never cooked anyway. You just caught me going into that hoagie jointwith its mystery meat
