Jonathan Kellerman - The Clinic

This time she answered, in a soft, curious voice. “Hello?”

I told her who I was.

“Yes. I got your messages.” No emotion.

“Do you have time to talk about Professor Devane?”

“I suppose- it's so terrible. Have they any idea who did it?”

“No.”

“Terrible,” she repeated. “I didn't find out until a week after, when the department notified me by fax. I couldn't believe it. But… I don't know how I can help.”

“We're trying to learn as much as possible about Professor Devane,” I said. “The kind of person she was. Her relationships.”

“That's why you're involved, Dr. Delaware?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting… new uses for our field. I'm sorry I didn't call back, but I just didn't think I had anything to say. She was a fine advisor for me.”

Dropping pitch on the last two words.

“For you but not for someone else?” I said.

Another pause. “What I meant was her style suited mine. Hands-off, she had her own life. She did help get me funding for my year in England.”

“Hands-off, how?”

“She let me do my own thing. I'm kind of compulsive, so it worked out.”

“A self-starter.”

She laughed. “That's a nicer way to put it.”

“So someone who needed more guidance might find her style difficult?”

“I suppose so, but that would just be speculation.”

“What about Casey Locking? Is he a self-starter?”

“I don't know Casey.” Tension in her voice.

“Not at all?”

“Not well. You're an alumnus, Dr. Delaware, you know how the program operates: three years of coursework, quals, then on to dissertation research. Some students know what they want, hook up with an advisor right away. I didn't. Between my job, my daughter, and classes, I was in a pretty severe time crunch.”

“How old's your daughter?”

“Three. I just sent her off to day care. They have excellent day care here.”

“Better than L.A.?”

“Better than I found in L.A. I wanted someplace that would provide some nurturance, do more than warehousing. Anyway, I was crunched, needed to finish, so you can see why there wasn't much time to socialize with Casey or anyone else.”

“Did you have any contact with him?”

“Minimal. He- our paths were different.”

“In what way?”

“I'm interested in clinical work. He didn't seem to care about that at all.”

“Pure research?”

“I guess so.”

“He's a little different,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“The black leather.”

“Yes,” she said. “He does try to project an image.”

“So even though the two of you were Professor Devane's only students, you had little to do with each other.”

“Correct.”

“Do you know anything about his research?”

“Something about self-control. Animal studies, I think.”

“Was Professor Devane hands-off with him, too?”

“Well,” she said, “they published together, so they must have shared some common ground. Why? Is Casey… implicated somehow?”

“Would it surprise you if he was?”

“Of course it would. The thought of anyone I know doing something like that would be surprising. Dr. Delaware, I have to say this conversation is making me uncomfortable. I can't even know for sure you're really who you say you are.”

“If you'd like, I can give you the number of the police detective assigned to the case.”

“No, that's all right. I have nothing more to say anyway.”

“But discussing Casey made you uncomfortable.”

She gave a small, soft laugh. “That sounds like a therapeutic comment, Dr. Delaware.”

“Is it an accurate comment?”

“Discussing anyone makes me uncomfortable. I don't like to gossip.”

“So it's nothing to do with Casey, specifically?”

“He- I have some feelings about him but they're really not relevant.”

“You don't like him?”

“I'd rather not,” she said, a bit louder.

“Ms. Gonsalvez,” I said. “Professor Devane was murdered very brutally. There are no leads and no way to know what's relevant and what isn't.”

“So Casey is under suspicion?”

“No, he isn't. Not formally. But if there's something about him that upset you, I'd like to know about it. Or I can have Detective Sturgis call.”

“Oh, boy,” she said. “Oh, boy… I really can't afford to have this getting back to Casey. He's- I'm not afraid of him but he's someone whose bad side I wouldn't want to be on.”

“Have you seen his bad side in action?”

“No, but he's- I've seen his research. I wasn't being totally honest when I said I thought he was running animal studies. I know he was because one night I happened to be down in the basement and passed his lab. I was grading some papers and had to pick them up in the prof's basement lab. It must have been eleven o'clock, everyone was gone. I heard music- heavy-metal music- and saw light coming through a partially open door. I peeked in and there was Casey, with his back to me. He had cages of rats, mazes, all sorts of psychophysiologic equipment. The music was very loud and he never heard me. He had a rat in his hand- between his fingers. Pinching its neck. The poor thing was squirming and squeaking, Casey was clearly hurting it. Then he started dancing around. To the music- doing a little jig while he pinched the rat. Its tail was- it was horrible to watch. I wanted to rush in and stop him but I didn't. Too scared, being down there alone. Since then I guess he always has scared me- the leather, his manner. Have you seen that ring he wears?”

“The skull.”

“Tacky,” she said. “And juvenile. He saw me looking at it once and said Hope had given it to him. Which I find hard to believe.”

“Why?”

“She was the epitome of class. He was just playing head games with me- anyway, it bothered me for a long time. The rat. I kept thinking I should tell someone- the department has rules about humane treatment of animals. But Hope was his advisor and I knew she liked him and… I know this sounds like petty sibling rivalry but he was clearly the favored child. So if I made problems for him, how would she react? Cowardly, Dr. Delaware, but my goal is to finish my Ph.D., get out in the world, make a good home for my daughter. Hope was staying out of my life and I'd adjusted to it.”

“Did she stay out to the point of neglect?”

“Honestly? There were times I needed her and she wasn't available and sometimes it hung me up. Because of my tight schedule, every delay threw me back. I even tried to tell her once. She was pleasant but really didn't want to hear it so I never brought it up again. When I picked her, I thought she'd be ideal because of her feminism. My field of interest is cross-cultural sex-roles and child rearing. I thought she'd get turned on by the topic but she really wasn't interested.”

“But with Casey it was different.”

“Very different. She always seemed to have time for him. Don't get me wrong, when we did get together she was great- supportive, incredibly smart. And she did come through on my grant. But getting her attention was always tough and after her book came out it became impossible. By the time I left for England, I was starting to feel like an orphan.”

“How do you know she had more time with Casey?”

“Because I saw them together a lot and he let me know. “Hope and I were lunching,' “I was over at Hope's house the other day.' Almost gloating- God, this really does sound like sibling garbage, doesn't it?”

“Grad school often works out that way.”

“I guess. She even took him with her to TV shows. He told me about sitting in the greenroom, meeting celebrities. Which isn't to say she wasn't entitled to work with whomever she preferred.”