Jonathan Kellerman: Bones

At the Inpatient Rehab Center at Western Pediatrics, Kelvin Vander lived in a private room sentried twenty-four seven by private eyes subcontracted by Aaron Fox. A third of every billable hour the freelancers submitted was deposited directly into Fox’s bank account.

Kelvin’s new lawyers were happy to pay. Their own hourly billings were drawn upon a seven-figure account attached to the Vander estate. The estate had been valued at over a hundred and seventy million. A family court judge assigned to protect Kelvin promised to keep an eye on the boy’s money. If things got out of hand, he’d cap the attorneys’ annual draw at a million or two.

Over a three-week period, I spent over a hundred hours with Kelvin, would eventually send my own bill, but had other things on my mind.

When I showed up, the boy looked straight at me.

One month later. Still not a word.

I tried drawing, games, just sitting there.

My own benevolent silence.

At my wit’s end, I called the judge and made a request.

He said, “Hmm. Kind of creative, Doctor. You think it’ll work?”

“I thought he’d open up by now, no predictions.”

“Know what you mean. Went to see him, myself. Cute, but like a little statue. Sure, I’ll authorize it.”

The next day, I was in Kelvin’s room when a spinet piano and matching bench were delivered. In the bench drawer were folders of sheet music I’d retrieved from the Steinway grand gracing the boy’s ocean-view bedroom in the house on Calle Maritimo.

I removed some of it, fanned it on his hospital bed.

He closed his eyes.

I waited awhile, left his room. Was charting at the nurses’ station when the music began, first tentative, then louder, streaming through the door and perking up the private cop on shift.

Everyone listened.

“What’s that?” said a nurse. “Mozart?”

I said, “Chopin.” One of the études, I was pretty sure.

Over and over.

I drove home and dug out a box of CDs.

Ten minutes later I had it: Opus 25, number 2, in F minor.

Technically challenging, sometimes sprightly, sometimes sad.

Later, the nurses told me he’d played it all day and well into the night.

Jonathan Kellerman is one of the world's most popular authors. He has brought his expertise as a child psychologist to numerous bestselling tales of suspense (which have been translated into two dozen languages), including thirteen previous Alex Delaware novels; The Butcher's Theater, a story of serial killing in Jerusalem; and Billy Straight, featuring Hollywood homicide detective Petra Connor. His new novel, Flesh and Blood, will be published in hardcover in fall 2001. He is also the author of numerous essays, short stories, and scientific articles, two children's books, and three volumes of psychology, including Savage Spawn: Reflections on Violent Children. He and his wife, the novelist Faye Kellerman, have four children.