Jonathan Kellerman - The Conspiracy Club

Dr. Theodore Dirgrove is currently unavailable. If this is a patient emergency, please press…

Gone for the day. Another meet-up with Dr. Gwynn Hauser?

Hauser. She and Dirgrove had spent six hours together at the motel. That said their relationship was more than kinky role-playing.

Did it involve pillow talk?

He looked up Hauser’s extension, and when she picked up the phone, he hung up and put on his white coat.

She shared an office suite with three other internists, two floors below Dirgrove’s penthouse spread. Jeremy crossed an empty reception area, knocked on the door with her name on it, and opened it as she said, “Come in.”

She was at her desk, writing, and looked up. Smiling, she removed her glasses and put down her pen. “My parking lot friend. I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Lashes batted. Her blond bob vibrated as she tilted her face toward Jeremy.

He’d come in smiling, wanting to put her at ease, but this much ease rattled him. She wheeled back in her desk chair, offered him a full view of long legs crossing. She wore a red wool dress and flesh-tone stockings. Great legs. Up close, she looked her age, but it didn’t matter. This one poured out hormones.

Jeremy closed the door. “You were expecting me?”

She said, “Is it my imagination, or have you been checking me out? First, that time in the lot, and then various places around the hospital.” She winked. “Hey, I’m an observant gal. I’ve noticed you noticing me . I even looked you up. Jeremy Carrier, from the shrink department.”

Jeremy smiled.

She said, “Chemistry. When it’s there, it’s there.”

“True,” he said, sitting down opposite her desk.

“So. Jeremy. What service can I provide Psychiatry?”

“I need information.”

Her face slackened. Confused.

“About Ted’s brother.”

“Ted?” Back went the glasses. Her legs uncrossed, and she sat stiffly.

“Ted Dirgrove.”

“The surgeon?”

“No need to be coy, Gwynn.”

She pointed to the door. “I think you’d better leave. Now.”

“I like the coat,” said Jeremy. “The big, white fuzzy one. Just the right combination of chic and cheap. What is it, polyester? Like the black wig?”

The color drained from Gwynn Hauser’s face. “Fuck you- get the fuck out of here.”

Jeremy crossed his legs. “Tell you what, I’ll send the pictures simultaneously. One set to your husband, the other to Patty Dirgrove.”

“You’re insane. What pictures?”

“The Hideaway Motel, Room 16. Yesterday, eight-thirty to three-forty. Long date. Must’ve been fun.”

Gwynn Hauser’s mouth dropped open. “You’re really insane.”

“Maybe,” said Jeremy. “However, the state of my mental health needn’t affect the quality of your life.”

“What’s that, a threat? You think you can march in here and threaten me and bully me? Are you out of your-” She reached for her phone but didn’t dial.

“All I want is the information.”

“About- why?”

“You don’t need to know.”

“What has he done?”

“You’re assuming he’s done something,” said Jeremy. “You’re not surprised that he’d do something.”

Hauser replaced the phone in its cradle. The tendons of her hands were bowstring tight. Jeremy watched as she pushed sheets of paper into a six-inch pile that she interposed between herself and Jeremy.

Pathetic barrier. She knew it. Her eyes were bright with confusion and fear.

“I don’t know enough to be surprised. All I know is what Ted tells me.”

She tried a little-girl pout. Smiled. When Jeremy remained stoic, she snarled, “Asshole. You don’t have any pictures, how could you have pictures?”

“Are you willing to bet on that?” said Jeremy. Sounding cool- the cool fellow surfacing, despite all the noise in his head.

“What do you want?”

“Tell me about him.”

“ What about him?”

“For starters, his name.”

“You don’t even know his- are you out of your… his name is Graves. Augusto Graves, he’s part South American. Augie. He’s not Ted’s full brother. He’s a half brother. They’re not close. They grew up separately. Ted wants nothing to do with him, they had a big fight years ago, and Ted thought he was free of him, but then Augie showed up.”

“He works here?”

“He’s here temporarily. One-year research grant in Ob-Gyn. Some corporate grant. Ted’s convinced he obtained it just to make trouble for him.”

A temporary appointment would account for no photo in the face book.

Jeremy said, “Research in laser surgery.”

Her pretty blue eyes widened. “You didn’t know his name, but you know that? What the hell’s going on?”

“Where’s Graves’s home base?”

“The West Coast, Seattle, I think. One of the big academic hospitals, there. And England- Cambridge. He travels all over the world lecturing. He’s a genius. Full professor by thirty-five. Ted’s still an associate. He hates him.”

“Jealousy?”

“That’s part of it. But I believed Ted when he says Augie’s intent on outdoing him at every turn.”

“Ted talks about him a lot.”

Gwynn Hauser exhaled. “The topic comes up.”

“Thorn in the side.”

“Big thorn. What did he do, and why do you care?”

“You’re assuming he did something bad.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

Jeremy remained silent. Therapist’s silence, one of the few “tricks” in his puny arsenal. Aimed straight at her resistance.

She said, “Ted says he’s got a mean streak. They didn’t meet until Ted was in college and Augie was in high school. Ted’s father abandoned him and his mother. Married Augie’s mother and lived in some Arab country, then South America. Later, Augie and his mother came to America and Augie went to school, there. One day, out of the clear blue, he appeared at Ted’s fraternity house, introduced himself, tried to insinuate himself into Ted’s life.”

“Ted didn’t welcome the reunion.”

“He’d never known about Augie. No one had ever mentioned another family. He didn’t know much about his father, period. All his mom said was that he was a doctor and had died doing research in the jungle somewhere.”

“Research into what?”

“I have no idea,” said Hauser. “No doubt something brilliant. Ted’s brilliant, and so is Augie. That’s part of the problem. I assume they got it somewhere.”

“Like father, like son.”

She nodded.

Jeremy prompted her: “Part of what problem?”

“Two oversize brains, two massive egos. Ted’s convinced Augie went to med school only because he did. And Augie did outdo him. Got into the number one school, while Ted’s was ranked third. Plus, Augie received a full scholarship and enrolled under a double degree program. M.D.-Ph.D., all in five years.”

“What’s his Ph.D. in?”

“Bioengineering. He’s a laser honcho. Plus, he’s board certified in general surgery and Ob-Gyn, even did some work in Ophthalmology. We’re talking major brainiac.” She managed a wry smile. “Poor Ted, he’s merely brilliant.”

Bioengineering. Jeremy flashed back to the Curiosity file. The second article. Laser surgery on women. An American team, from the West Coast. Physicians and engineers.

Arthur had led him straight. He’d missed the cue.

“Have you ever met him?”

“I’ve seen him around but only talked to him once. Last week as a matter of fact. Ted and I were lunching in the DDR, and he waltzed over, sat down with us.” She smiled. “The moment his butt touched the chair he was coming on to me. Nothing you could call him on. Subtly. Looks, smiles. He’s a smooth one. Ted was not amused. I told him not to worry, the guy’s not my type.”