Keith Ablow - Compulsion

"And…" he said.

"And I want to know if you can help us," I said.

"Help you, like, how?"

"For starters, if you saw anything strange before you left for Brooke's funeral, or when you got back, we'd be interested in hearing about it," I said.

"You would," he said.

"Of course," I said.

"Enough to pay for it?" he said.

Anderson and I glanced at one another.

Before either of us could answer him, Garret smiled broadly. "Just kidding," he said. "The last thing I need is money. Would you shut the door, please?"

Anderson took care of it. "Anything you tell us stays confidential," he said.

"Right," Garret said. "I've already told Dr. Clevenger I'm not testifying at any trial, if there ever is one. Dad's got Johnny McBride working for him now, you know."

"We know," I said.

"There aren't even any bloodstains in this case," Garret said. "How hard do you think it's gonna be for McBride to make jackasses out of the police and D.A.?" He looked at Anderson. "The search of the house was bungled, by the way. UPS dropped off two packages inside the foyer, and the State Police sergeant let the driver use the upstairs bathroom to take a leak-the one Billy snuck into."

"I'll look into that," Anderson said.

"You'll want to, before they carve you up on the witness stand," Garret said. "Better you than me."

"Did you have something to tell us about that night?"

Anderson said, nudging the discussion back into line.

"All I heard was another argument between Darwin and Julia," he said. "It got just as hot as the ones they used to have about the twins-how Darwin wanted to abort them."

"Was Claire around to hear it?" I asked, wondering whether she had edited her memory of that night.

"I'm not sure, but I don't think so," Garret said. "I think she had gone to the store to buy formula for Tess." He shrugged. "I wouldn't swear to it, but that's what I remember."

"What was the argument about?" Anderson asked.

"The nortriptyline," Garret said.

"What about it?" I said.

" Darwin wanted the prescription bottle from Julia. He was screaming at her for most of an hour before she gave in."

"Did he say why he wanted it?" I asked.

"He said she should find some other way to kill herself," Garret said, "like she was about to take an overdose, or something."

"And did you think your mother might try to hurt herself?" I asked.

"I think Darwin had something else in mind," Garret said, smiling.

"What?" I said.

"An overdose for little Tess, of course."

Anderson let out a long breath. "So you think it's a coincidence your brother broke into the house that night?" he said.

"A lucky break for Darwin, the way I see it. Win was already going to do the deed, but Billy's daring move- which I give him a lot of credit for, by the way-made it the perfect crime." He paused and looked at me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. "Or nearly perfect," he said.

"Why nearly?' I asked.

"Because I have the prescription bottle," Garret said matter-of-factly.

"You…" I started.

"Where?” Anderson asked anxiously.

Garret turned around and pulled open the lowest drawer of his desk. He reached all the way to the back of it. His hand emerged holding a key. "My locker at Brant Point," he said. He tossed me the key. "Number 117, top shelf. Back, right-hand corner. Inside a tennis ball can."

"How did you get it?" I asked.

He winked. " Darwin left it in the top drawer of his desk in the study. Pure arrogance." He glanced at Anderson. "Of course, when you figure you have the local police and the state cops in your back pocket, you get heady."

Anderson ignored the comment.

"When did you find the bottle?" I asked.

"The day after Tess's overdose," Garret said. "But that's not the important part. The important part is that you won't find Billy's fingerprints anywhere on it."

Claire Buckley showed us to the door. Her demeanor was ice-cold. Before stepping outside, I tried to think of something to say to reassure her that Anderson and I had no intention of revealing her secret, but all of us got distracted by a State Police cruiser barreling into the circular drive. It stopped short behind North Anderson 's car. A tall and broad fellow, about fifty, wearing a State Police uniform decorated with elaborate, embroidered patches and enameled pins, bolted out of the car and headed for us. His face was one of those sharp-angled, weathered ones that looked like it would stay ruggedly handsome forever. His salt-and-pepper hair was full and wavy.

"Told you you'd meet him," Anderson said. "That's Brian O'Donnell."

"Got a minute?" O'Donnell called gruffly to Anderson.

"Sure," Anderson said.

Claire turned around, walked back inside, and closed the door.

"I should introduce Dr. Clevenger," Anderson said, as O'Donnell reached us.

O'Donnell nodded at me, but didn't extend a hand. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked.

"Conducting an investigation," Anderson said. "What did you think we might be doing?"

O'Donnell frowned. "I thought we decided you'd clear things with me. I had no idea you were arranging another set of interviews for the doctor here."

"I don't think we ever came up with a hard-and-fast rule about what got cleared with who," Anderson said. "I agreed to work closely with you. And I will."

"Look, if you need a call from the Governor's office to make it official, I'll get that done for you. From here on out, the investigation is being run by my department. That means me."

"Maybe that call from the Governor would help clarify things," Anderson said.

"Well, let me make this much clear right now," O'Donnell said. "If you just interviewed the boy, you did so without his parents' consent. That means his statements aren't freely given and can't be used at Billy's trial."

Billy's trial. I heard that loud and clear.

Anderson didn't say whether we'd interviewed Garret or not. He also didn't mention the key to Garret's locker.

"As for Ms. Buckley," O'Donnell said, "I just don't see why she's on the suspect list at all. I know you have your thoughts about her supposed relationship with Darwin Bishop, but that hasn't been proven, and it's a pretty weak motive for a double homicide, to begin with."

"We're just dealing with the one homicide right now," I reminded him. "Hopefully, it stays that way."

"Whatever," O'Donnell said, shooting me an annoyed look. He collected himself. "North, I'm not trying to clip your wings here," he said. "I'm trying to get things done right so the case doesn't fall apart. First things first, let's get Billy and go from there."

"You any closer?" I asked.

"We think we're closing in," O'Donnell said. "We're moving as fast as we can, but not so fast that we ignore the potential dangers. The Commons are surprisingly tough terrain to search. And we don't know if Billy is armed or not."

That comment made me think back to Carl Rossetti's fear that the cleanest way to bury the truth in the Bishop case would be to bury Billy. "He's never used a gun before," I said.

"He hadn't asphyxiated one sibling and tried to poison another before, either," O'Donnell said.

"If he did this time," I said.

O'Donnell smiled. "I know you interviewed Billy at Payne Whitney. That went, what, half an hour?"

"It went long enough for me to use what I learned to learn more," I said.

"Just so you know something about me, Doctor: I've gotten to be a quick study, too. I've led twenty-six homicide investigations. And my take here is that everyone else in this family who might land on somebody's suspect list is no more than a red herring," he said. "Billy Bishop looks like, smells like, is the killer. Period. He worked his way up to murder in the usual manner, with stops along the way at destruction of property, theft, arson, and cruelty to animals. There's nothing very special about him."