Джонатан Келлерман - Night Moves

He said, “Trust-fund baby. That could explain the snotty attitude. Got it again this morning. He cracked his door and stared at me like I was pond scum. After I finished my spiel, he turned his back on me and closed the damn thing. Days like this, I wish I was living in a police state.”

I said, “You and Kim Jong busting down doors.”

He laughed. “Rich kid retires, moves to the Palisades, it fits. But I still can’t find anything nasty in his background. No dirt on Chet Corvin, either, other than some eye-rolling when I brought him up.”

“With who?”

“His secretary. I went over to his office, yesterday. Door sign says it’s the company’s West Coast ancillary site. That translates to two rooms in a so-so building on the south side of Beverly Hills. Just Corvin and the secretary, uptight lady in her seventies. Looked to me like a mail drop, maybe something that qualifies the company to operate in California. She verified what Chet told us, he’s on the road a lot. Books his own trips. She wasn’t surprised to see me, Chet had told her about the body. In graphic detail. That’s when she rolled her eyes. She said it made her sick. I asked who his pals were, work or otherwise. More rolling. ‘Wouldn’t know, Lieutenant, but I’m sure Chet’s popular with everyone. ’ ”

“The boss’s charm has worn thin.”

“I figured great, she can’t stand him, won’t be protective of him. But when I asked her about anyone with a beef against him, she didn’t know of any. Didn’t know much period. My sense is she gets paid to warm a seat and take messages. And no, there hadn’t been any strange messages or mail for Mr. Corvin during the year and a half she’d worked for him.”

I said, “He books his own travel. Maybe to keep the details private.”

“Women in every port, pissed-off husbands? I thought about that but why not target Corvin directly? Why a handless John Doe in the guy’s den?”

“Anything on John Doe’s clothes? They looked pretty generic to me.”

“That’s ’cause they are,” he said. “The shoes are Nike, everything else is Chinese-made, carried by discount chains and outlets all over the country.”

“So probably not a country-club golf buddy of Chet’s,” I said. “Or the descendant of a Rockefeller crony.”

“Unless he’s one of those eccentric moneybags who lives on the cheap — hey, maybe he is one of ol’ Trevor’s cousins and the Bitts have been inbreeding too long. Where do they hale from?”

“The original money got made in New York.”

“Make it there, you can make it anywhere. Okay, I’ll see what I can find about this clan. If I learn there’s some big-time inheritance dispute at play and Cousin Itt with a limp hasn’t been heard from, you’re my new best friend.”

“New?” I said.

“Fine, re- newed. We will reach a new level, like one of those relationship encounter weekends. Except instead of ‘Kumbaya’ and meditation, I’ll buy dinner. You, Robin, the pooch. I’ll even spring for fish food.”

I did my own search. Like a lot of old-wealth recipients, the Bitts appeared to live invisibly.

A handful of people with the surname showed up on the Internet but none were the cartoonist’s kin. I was logging off when my service called, a longtime operator named Lenore.

“Dr. Delaware, I have a Mr. Corvin on the line. He wouldn’t say about what. I asked him to leave his number, he got kind of pushy, said you’d know what it’s about. I asked if it was an emergency, he said it was. But I don’t think it was — not that I’m a psychologist.”

“None of the usual anxiety,” I said.

“Just the opposite, Doctor. Smooth. To tell the truth, he sounds like he wants to sell you something. I’ve got him on hold, if you want me to tell him you’re unavailable...”

“No, I’ll talk to him. Thanks for being cautious, Lenore.”

“Always,” she said.

Click.

“This is Dr. Delaware.”

“Hey, Doc, Chet. How’s everything going?”

“With the investigation?”

“That. In general. Figure of speech. Looked you up, your name’s Alexander, I thought it was Alan. Anyway, I can use you. My daughter can.”

“Chelsea’s having problems.”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on: We’ve been home since Wednesday, that went fine. But last night I heard her get up, looked at the clock, it was three a.m. Then I hear her go down the stairs, fine, she wants a drink of water. Then the front door shuts and I’m thinking what-the? I go outside and see her walking around. Not in her p.j.’s, dressed like she’s going somewhere, except no shoes. When I told her to go back inside, she gave me one of those looks.”

“What kind of look?”

“You know,” he said.

I waited.

Chet Corvin said, “What you saw, Alex. Defiant. I said, ‘This is ridiculous, come back inside.’ She gave me the look and went back inside.”

“Did she seem to be sleepwalking?”

“You’re the expert, Doc. But I’d have to say no, her eyes were open and it wasn’t like she was on a different planet. More like daring me. Defiant. ”

“Daring you to do what?”

“Maybe punish her? I don’t know, was hoping you could tell me. How many times have you seen this kind of thing?”

“Kids leaving the house?”

“With clothes but no shoes,” he said. “Three in the morning. You think it’s some kind of PTSD?”

“Did she have her purse with her?” I said. “Her phone?”

“Nope, just her walking.”

“Walking where?”

“In the cul-de-sac, back and forth.”

“How far?”

“Not far, like... twenty feet in one way, then she turns around, then she does the whole thing all over again.”

“You watched her.”

“Well, yeah, sure, Alex, I wanted to know what was going on. When can you see her? This is something I will bill to that victims’ fund.”

I said, “I can refer you but I can’t treat Chelsea.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m already consulting on the investigation and need to communicate with the police. So I can’t offer confidentiality.”

“We don’t care about keeping secrets, Alex. You figure her out, tell her what’s what so she can snap out of this nonsense. Tell us, also, so we know how to handle her in the future. We all set, then?”

“It won’t work, Mr. Corvin. I’m happy to give you a referral.”

“Hmm,” he said. “You’re a pretty willful guy. Thought the therapy game was all about compromise.”

It’s about lots of things. Including boundaries.

“Would you like a referral?”

“Nah,” he said. “I don’t want to get involved with someone else. And I really can’t see why you won’t help us. If it’s money, forget the victims’ fund, I’ll pay you directly.”

I said, “It’s not money.”

“I hear that all the time, Alex, and it usually turns out to be exactly about money.”

I said nothing.

Chet Corvin said, “Listen, Alex, let’s put our heads together and work out a solution. Talk to her once, see if there’s anything to worry about. There is, we take it from there. There isn’t, no harm, no foul.”

I thought about that.

Chet Corvin said, “You still with me, Alex?”

I said, “If Lieutenant Sturgis okays it, I’ll see her once.”

“You need his permission?”

“I need to avoid conflict of interest.”

“Huh. Fine. Where’s your office? Your girl wouldn’t tell me.”

“I’ll come to your house. Be easier for Chelsea if it’s on her turf.”

“Turf,” he said. “Like golf. Or gangs.” Chuckling. “She’s... different, you saw it. When can you come over?”