Jonathan Kellerman: Heartbreak Hotel

I said, “You came across my name in the paper.”

“More than once, though I wouldn’t call it often. Unrelated criminal cases but no explanation of what your involvement was. I found it intriguing.”

She recrossed her legs. “This is the point where I confess that I wasn’t totally accurate with regard to the Internet. Once you piqued my curiosity, I did have one of the infants look you up — what do they call it, Googling a search? What emerged was your work at the hospital, and that intrigued me further. Crimes and helping kiddies? I thought to myself: This is an interesting person. Western Pediatric really is an institution that I admire — would you mind helping me shift position? Just grab and pull me forward a smidge.”

She extended both hands. Her skin had turned icy. Using me as a counterweight, she inched forward, finally let go, breathing hard.

“Thank you. Now I have a question for you: What’s the current psychological wisdom with regard to guilt?”

“There really isn’t one.”

“Why not?”

“For some people, guilt can be crippling. For others, it’s helpful.”

“Hmm... how about an example of when it’s beneficial?”

“People with no capacity for self-examination are capable of terrible things. Guilt helps society sustain itself.”

“What kind of people are we talking about?”

“The extreme example would be psychopaths.”

“Crazy people.”

“No, psychopaths are sane but they’re selfish, lack empathy, and can be cruel and impulsive.”

“What we used to call bad eggs,” she said. She went silent, looked to the side. “Can total scoundrels be changed? Or at least channeled into something productive?”

“If it suits their purposes.”

“So, not really. Do bad eggs inevitably exploit the good eggs?”

“Again, Thalia, if it’s in their best interests.”

“Big dog eats little dog when hungry.”

I nodded. “Psychopaths are good at sniffing out victims. Psychopaths with brains and charisma can succeed on a grand scale.”

“You could be describing politicians.”

I smiled.

She said, “I worked for the county, don’t get me started. All right, another question: When looking for their victims, is there a type they go for?”

“Whoever they sense will fulfill their needs.”

“Predators with a nose for prey.”

“Exactly.”

“Do they specialize? Thieves running with thieves, burglars with burglars?”

“Criminologists used to believe they did. Now we know that’s not true.”

“Bad is simply bad.”

“There’s a psychopathic range of behavior, but it’s narrower than for morally normal people.”

“But theoretically,” she said, “any miscreant is capable of anything. Violence, for example.”

“Smarter psychopaths tend to avoid violence because it’s usually a losing strategy. But in the end, it depends on whether their goals can be achieved nonviolently.”

“If push comes to shove, nothing stops them.” She drew a hand across her gullet.

“Are you asking about someone in particular, Thalia?”

“Oh, no... what a disheartening picture we’ve drawn of humanity, Doctor. I suppose I was hoping for better. Would still like to think of our planet as an evolutionary gem rather than an orbiting hunk of waste material. Several years ago when I saw photos taken from that faraway telescope — the Hubble — I was cheered. The universe seemed beautiful. Jewel-like. But I suppose one needs to be light-years away to see it like that.”

I said, “Thalia, context is important. Psychopaths can be disruptive but they’re a very small percent of the population.”

“Most people are morally sound.”

“I believe so.”

“You believe?” she said. “What does the science of psychology have to say about it?”

“It’s not a topic that’s been studied well.”

“I see... this has been most helpful, Dr. Delaware. Is our time just about up? I don’t wear a wristwatch anymore, too heavy. And the only clocks I have are above the stove and on my bedside table, so if you don’t mind — is that a vintage Rolex on your wrist?”

“Girard-Perregaux.” Gift from a great-uncle, a Battle of the Bulge hero who’d bartered it for candy bars in postwar France and came home wanting to forget.

“Very chic, Doctor. What time does it proclaim?”

“We’ve got a quarter hour left.”

“Really?” She suppressed a yawn. “Excuuuse me, so sorry. Would you mind terribly if we kicked in early? I’m flagging.”

“No problem.” I stood.

She reached out a hand. I gave her mine. She held on.

“Will you come see me tomorrow, Dr. Delaware? Perhaps a bit earlier in the day, so I can conserve my energy, say eleven A.M.? Oops, I nearly forgot. Your fee. You’ll find a check over by the blue Tiffany, the one with the dragonflies. Aren’t they lovely creatures, so ephemeral. Would you mind fetching it yourself?” Patting her knees. “The hinges are creaking.”

I walked to the lamp. A cream-colored paper corner peeked from under a bronze base molded into the stalk of a lily.

Bracing the lamp, I pulled out a seven-by-five envelope, heavy stock, no personalization. Inside was a check drawn on the personal account of Thalia M. Mars, made out in a gracious but shaky hand.

Six thousand dollars.

“This is way too much, Thalia, and as I said over the phone, a retainer’s not called for.”

“Consider it an account to be drawn upon.”

“That’s the definition of a retainer.”

“It is when advance payment is for the convenience of the payee, ” she said. “However, in this case, you’re helping me keep things simple.”

“Even so, Thalia, six thousand—”

A coral grin livened her face. “Are you doubting I’ll last long enough to deplete the full amount? If so, what’s the big deal? You’ll reap a windfall.”

“Thalia—”

“Just joshing, Dr. Delaware. Look, the check’s already made out, let’s not haggle. By doing it my way, you really are helping me avoid constant calculating, writing, recording.”

She blew a raspberry. “Ledgers were my life for decades, I saw them in my dreams, have had quite enough of that, thank you. And should you come out on the plus end, nothing will stop you from donating any overage to charity. I’m sure Dr. Eagle would appreciate that.”

I said, “Payment aside, I’m still not clear about the purpose of our sessions.”

“You’re not? I thought I was being lucid as a diamond. All right, allow me to sum up: What I want from you is exactly what you just provided. Clarification of questions that arise, plus open ears and an open mind.”

She yawned, covered her mouth. “ Excuse me — I really am running out of steam. Tomorrow at eleven?”

Before setting out, I’d checked my calendar. Open-ended conference call on a three-child custody case at nine A.M., new evaluation at twelve thirty.

“I’m not free for most of tomorrow, Thalia.”

“No, of course not, why would you be, you’re a man in demand. All right, is there any time you could squeeze me in?”

She winked. “As I mentioned, I do have a rather momentous birthday coming up.”

“I can probably be here between ten and ten thirty but if an earlier appointment runs late, we’ll have to reschedule.”

She clapped her hands. “Wonderful! Ten it is!”

“I’d still like to know more about your goals for our sessions.”

“My immediate goal is breathing, Doctor.”

“Seriously, Thalia.”

“Oh, must I be? I thought I wasn’t being tested. ” She wagged a finger. “Gotcha!”