Greg Iles - Blood Memory

“Past conduct is protected under the privilege. If it weren’t, nobody would ever disclose anything to their shrink. Or to their priest, or their lawyer. Exceptions to the privilege are based on the risk of imminent harm.”

I take a banana from a bowl on the counter, start to peel it, then put it back. “Okay, so Malik could be shielding the killer. Legally. Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s an arrogant asshole. An academic who can’t even begin to imagine the reality of these murders.”

“A combat medic probably has a pretty good idea about the reality of murder.” As Sean concedes this with a sigh, I feel a sudden rush of excitement. “What if he’s shielding the killer because he believes the murders are justified ?”

“Like a twisted moral stand?”

“Maybe not so twisted. An abuse victim kills the man who’s been raping her for years. In her mind, it’s self-defense.”

“And to Malik, justifiable homicide,” Sean adds, an edge of enthusiasm in his voice. “The problem is, we have five victims. You think one of Malik’s patients was abused by all five of these guys?”

“It’s possible. If there was some kind of pedophile ring or something.”

“You’re saying the killings are revenge over something that happened a long time ago?”

“Malik specializes in repressed memories, right? Let’s talk about sex for a minute.”

Misunderstanding me, Sean gets a twinkle in his eye. He starts to make a joke, but the twinkle vanishes as he remembers our present situation.

“Does Malik treat both men and women?” I ask. “I think Dr. Shubb said he did.”

“We know he’s treated some men. We don’t know how many. The task force is talking to every psychologist and psychiatrist in Louisiana and Mississippi, looking for anyone who’s referred patients to Malik. They already found a psychologist who referred a guy to him last year.”

“For sexual abuse?”

“The shrink wouldn’t say without a court order.”

“ Damn . How long-realistically-before you can force Malik to turn over his patients’ names?”

“Kaiser thinks he can get a judge to order it this afternoon. Maybe the records, too.”

“And if Malik refuses?”

“He’ll be in contempt of court.”

“Immediate jail?”

“No, there’d have to be a hearing first. But he will go to jail.”

“Do they set bail in cases like that?”

“No. Because on a contempt charge, the prisoner can walk out of jail any time he wants to. All he has to do is comply with the court’s order.”

“Do you think Malik will do jail time to protect his patients’ names?”

Sean gives a knowing smile. “I think we’ll have those names by tonight.”

“Good. Hey, did you guys search Malik’s office, too? For guns, I mean?”

“Yeah. Malik was present during the search, and he made sure no one looked at his records. The records were specifically excluded in the warrant. We didn’t want to waste time arguing that with a judge.”

“But were there records there? Did you see actual files in the cabinets?”

“I wasn’t on the scene. I’ll check, but I’m sure someone would have mentioned it if they were missing.”

“Don’t assume anything, Sean. I’ll bet Malik’s already moved those records off-site. Have you kept men at his office to pick up any patients who show up for appointments?”

“Hell, yeah. But nobody’s shown up. We can’t figure it out. How do they know not to come? We’ve tapped Malik’s phones since we suspected him, and he hasn’t called anyone to cancel. He doesn’t have a fucking receptionist.”

“And of course you’ve gone to the victims’ families and asked point-blank if anyone is a patient of Malik’s?”

“Yeah, but we’re being cautious about that. Just in case Malik’s right about his patients being in danger. It wouldn’t look good if Malik warned us that his patients could be harmed, and then we got one of them killed in some kind of domestic dispute.”

“Cautious how? Are they trying to get female family members off by themselves?”

“Yeah. But it’s hard to know who they all are, what with marriages and divorces and all.”

My mind drifts back to mid-July, after the second victim was killed. Andrus Riviere, the retired pharmacist. I went with Sean to interview the Riviere family, and there I saw a strange sight. A granddaughter of Mr. Riviere’s was running joyously through the house as though preparing for a birthday party rather than mourning her grandfather. And it wasn’t a momentary burst of energy. She continued to behave that way throughout our visit. About seven years old, she stuck in my mind because she didn’t seem like an insensitive child. In fact, when I spoke to her, she seemed quite the opposite. The calm regard in her eyes made me feel as if I were talking to an adult.

“How do you feel about a woman committing these crimes?” I ask.

Sean stands and goes to the refrigerator, but instead of opening it, he looks back at me. “I like the revenge-for-abuse idea, but it’s hard to see a woman doing what we’ve seen. There’s almost no precedent in the literature. Female serial killers? Aileen Wuornos is about it.”

“That’s not strictly true. Almost five percent of serials are female.”

Sean looks expectantly at me. He’s an instinctive investigator, and while he is very good, most of his knowledge is based on his own experience or that of other detectives around the country-usually men with whom he has a personal relationship. I’ve made it a point to educate myself in the professional literature of serial homicide, and my knowledge is far broader. This often irritates Sean, but he’s pragmatic enough to make use of what I know.

“Female serials operate for an average of eight years before being caught,” I tell him. “That’s twice as long as male offenders. And one of their hallmarks is a very clean crime scene.”

“Okay,” he allows, “but don’t most of them have a male accomplice?”

“Eighty-six percent use an accomplice, but it’s not always male. What works against a female here is the type of crime. Most female serials are so-called ‘black widows,’ who kill their husbands, or angels of death, who kill hospital patients. Often the victims are family members. The only female serial classified as committing sexual homicide against strangers and acting alone is Wuornos.”

Sean looks almost smug.

“But I think she was wrongly classified,” I go on. “Aileen Wuornos killed to punish men for sexually abusing her. One of Malik’s patients could be doing the same thing.”

“I’m not saying it’s impossible,” says Sean. “But the crime signature weighs against it. The marksmanship, the nudity, the torture-”

“Revenge,” I argue. “You have very little cooling-off period in revenge killings, and that fits this case. And the bite marks are almost certainly made after the incapacitating gunshot. A woman would have to disable her victims before getting close enough to bite like that.”

“Do you really see a woman ripping these guys up with her teeth?”

I’ve had some pretty violent urges myself. “A sexually abused woman probably carries around a lot of repressed rage, Sean.”

“Yeah, but women turn rage inward. That’s why they commit suicide, not homicide.”

He’s right about that. “What about Colonel Moreland’s daughter? Stacey Lorio? Army brat, tough-looking woman. You said she had alibis for all the murders?”

“Yep, all corroborated. Couple of times with friends, couple of times with her ex-husband. Her ex doesn’t even like her, but he confirmed. Talked to him myself. He said, ‘To tell you the truth, I can’t stand the bitch, but I still like to screw her now and again.’”