William Bernhardt - Death Row

“And then there’ll be all those kittens!”

“That is usually how it works, yeah.”

“What am I going to do with all those kittens?”

“You’ll think of something.”

“This can’t happen, Joni. You’re the handyman. Do something… handy.”

Smiling, Joni put her arm around him and led him to his car. “Sorry, pal, it’s already a done deal.” She reached into the pocket of her flannel shirt and pulled out a pink candy cigar. “Congratulations, Ben. You’re going to be a father.”

“You know, I really shouldn’t be telling you this,” Dr. Bennett said as she artfully uncrossed and recrossed her legs. “I shouldn’t.”

Mike smiled. He was happy because his years of experience with interrogations told him that when the witness started insisting that they really shouldn’t be talking-it was a sure sign he was getting close to something good.

“I’m afraid we have to insist,” Sergeant Baxter said firmly.

She wasn’t playing hardball yet, but Mike knew she was only about two sentences away. And unless he missed his guess, once Baxter started playing the big bad, Bennett would retreat and the questioning would come to an abrupt end.

“First, there’s the matter of doctor-patient privilege to consider.”

“That didn’t prevent you from speaking with us before. You said the privilege died with Erin.”

“But that was different. At that time, you were inquiring into her death. I thought I not only could speak but should speak. But this.” She shook her head. “This is something altogether different. I don’t know that this has anything to do with her death.”

“With all due respect,” Baxter replied, “we have to be the judge of that.”

“I know, I know. But still…” Bennett’s hands gestured futilely in the air. “I just don’t like it.”

“We could subpoena you, Doctor.”

“Fine. Subpoena me. We both know what will happen. I’ll claim privilege, the judge will put me in jail for a few hours, and then I’ll go home. And you’ll be none the wiser.” She hesitated. “I just don’t know what I should do.”

Which was Mike’s cue. He stepped closer to the interrogation table. He had deliberately staged the questioning, calling Bennett at a time when she was out of the office and claiming great urgency, forcing her to come to him. He wanted this interview to take place at police headquarters, not in the cushy comfort of Bennett’s home or office. He didn’t want her to be comfortable. He wanted her to be on edge, at least a little. He wanted her to feel vulnerable.

“I know what you should do, ma’am. You should tell us everything you know. Even if you don’t see the relevance. You should give us unrestricted access to your files.”

“I can’t do that.”

“You can. And you will.” He leaned across the table, hunched like a vulture, his eyes burning into hers. “I insist.”

Bennett drew back. “Are you trying to intimidate me?”

“Yeah. Is it working?”

“Kind of.” She ran a nervous finger across her lips. “You do that smoldering-intensity thing really well.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“Seriously, some of my patients are major-league bad boys, murderers and rapists and such. But they don’t give me chills the way you just did.”

Mike shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

Bennett allowed herself a small smile. “What makes you so sure there was some dark family secret Erin was hiding?”

“I’m not sure of anything. But Dr. Harris was making some pretty broad hints, and he generally seemed to know what he was talking about.”

“The man is a quack.”

“But a quack who spent a lot of time talking to Erin Faulkner.”

“I don’t see how this could possibly relate to her death.”

“I do. And believe me when I say that if you withhold evidence that might help us break this case”-he glanced at Baxter-“or put it to bed once and for all, I will come down on you. Hard.”

Bennett’s long-nailed fingers fluttered in the air. “I can’t prove any of this.”

“Tell us what she told you.”

Bennett frowned, started again. “There were some indications of… child abuse. In Erin Faulkner’s past.”

“Indications from?”

Bennett sighed. “From Erin. She first revealed it to me during hypnosis. After that, she talked about it more freely.”

“And her father was the molester.”

“That was… what she said. Yes.” She took a shallow breath. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“Actually, yes. I’ve quit and I don’t care to be tempted.”

“It would really calm me.”

All the more reason to say no. “Sorry. Departmental policy.”

She was wearing a vivid red dress that stopped at midthigh. Very attractive, but not very professional. Certainly not the image of the icy lady psychiatrist. Mike wondered if she had been planning to go out on a date. Or maybe hit the singles bars. “Erin was conflicted, and this dark chapter in her past only made it worse. Of course she grieved for what had happened to her family, and she felt a good deal of guilt about having survived when the others did not. But I sensed there was also a certain amount of… relief.”

“Because the man who had been molesting her was gone?” Baxter suggested.

“Perhaps.”

“Did she give you any details?” Mike asked.

“She did. But do you really want to hear them? As she explained it, the abuse initially just involved touching. Inappropriate touching. But as she got older, it… progressed.”

“To intercourse?”

“I don’t think so. But there was definitely intimate contact. Sexual contact.”

Baxter nodded. “And did you believe Erin?”

Bennett hesitated before answering. “I have learned to be cautious about such accusations. Especially when they originate under hypnosis. She seemed very convincing. But there have been cases of false accusations.”

“Did you think Erin was lying?”

“No, I certainly didn’t think she was lying. But it is possible she was… mistaken.”

“Okay,” Mike said, “did you think she was mistaken?”

“No. But I’m not a human polygraph. I can’t eliminate the possibility. And in a case such as this one-when the complainant has been through a great deal of emotional trauma, when the accusations only arise years after the incident, when the accused molester is long gone and utterly unable to defend himself-there is cause for concern.”

“You’re being very diplomatic, Doctor,” Mike said, “but not terribly helpful. Did you believe her?”

“Yes,” Bennett said, raising her chin. “I did. But I’m not anxious to tarnish a dead man’s memory without objective proof.”

“Is there anyone else who knew about these accusations?”

Bennett shrugged. “I don’t know. It seems unlikely. As I said, they only emerged under hypnosis.”

“And when was that?”

“About six months ago.”

“But you can’t rule out the possibility that she told this to someone else.”

“I suppose not. Why?”

Mike pushed away from the table. “Because it opens up a whole new world of possible motives, Doctor. That’s why.”

“Can you think of anyone else Erin might’ve told about this?” Baxter asked.

Bennett pondered a moment. “Well, she was seeing a young man for a while. James Wesley.”

Mike nodded. “We’ve spoken to him.”

“But the relationship didn’t progress far. They never became intimate. Frankly, I don’t think Erin was ready for that yet. And I can’t imagine the subject coming up casually over dinner.”

“What about Sheila Knight?” Baxter asked.

“It’s possible. Sheila knew Erin for years-even before the tragedy. She could conceivably have known about the abuse when it was happening.”