bargain-calling the homicide detective in California.
In my own heart, however, I knew that I was still inclined to make the call to California, not solely because I’d told Gibbs that I would, or because of some absurd sense of responsibility I was feeling because of a hypothetical bargain I’d made with her.
I was inclined to make the call because it was the right thing to do. Why? Because of the murder thing. I could spend some unpredictable amount of time in therapy trying to influence her to make the phone call herself, but with an unsolved homicide hanging in the balance, it didn’t seem like a prudent plan.
I had received information about an unsolved murder; I was in a position to help the police close the case and put the responsible party behind bars. That was a novel state of affairs for me. But what made things even more unique in my experience was the fact that the screwy circumstances allowed me a rare ethical sanctuary: I actually had my patient’s permission to share information in my possession with the police.
That doesn’t happen very often in my business. I couldn’t think of another time it had happened in my career.
But sitting across from Gibbs, I wasn’t feeling free to act. What I was feeling was hesitant. Maybe I should have heeded the caution I was feeling right then. The caution was saying:
Reconsider.
But I didn’t. Instead I stood, walked over to my desk phone, and lifted the receiver.
“I brought the number with me,” Gibbs said.
I placed the receiver back down. “I’m not as comfortable proceeding with the call as I would be if you weren’t planning to return to your home.”
Her shoulders sank a little. “ Sterling is what he is whether or not you make the call.”
“True. And I’m afraid he’s someone who may hurt you.”
“I don’t think so. He’s protective of me. I’m not saying it’s normal protectiveness, Dr. Gregory, whatever that is, but he’s protective of me.”
“Protective?”
“Yes. Very. Sterling is controlling. Very controlling. But he’s only touched me once. In anger, I mean, and that was… years ago. Many years ago. Are you going to make the call?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t.
Gibbs shifted on her chair. She sat back, crossed one leg over the other, and rested one forearm on the other. Each hand grasped the opposing biceps. “Remember I said yesterday that it wasn’t only Louise?”
“Yes.” Goose bumps shot up my spine.
She looked away from me. “You can’t tell this to the police, okay? What I’m about to tell you.”
“Actually that’s not my call to make, Gibbs. It’s yours. You decide what leaves this room.”
“Then what I tell you from now on doesn’t leave the room. You can’t tell this to Dr. Estevez or to the California police.”
“Would you like to rescind your previous release in writing?”
I immediately wondered why I’d asked her that. I couldn’t remember ever making that offer to a patient before.
She made eye contact again. “No, that’s not necessary. I trust you.”
Somehow her assurance that she trusted me wasn’t the most comforting of news. I didn’t say “okay” or “fine.” I waited silently for what was going to come next.
It turned out that Gibbs didn’t need much time to hurdle whatever obstacles she faced about continuing.
“It’s not just about Louise. I wish it were. Although I think she was the first, it’s not just about Louise. My husband has killed a number of women. All over the country.”
With false confidence I’d set down the cards of my two-pair hand, and Gibbs had trumped me with the old serial killer royal flush.
TWELVE
Good advice.
“Do not wander from designated paths and trails.” That’s what the first sign said. It was a hundred yards back, where there was still some light from the visitors’ center.
“Do not go near any water.” That order was posted ten yards farther along the trail.
Now here she was breaking all the rules. She
In my own heart, however, I knew that I was still inclined to make the call to California, not solely because I’d told Gibbs that I would, or because of some absurd sense of responsibility I was feeling because of a hypothetical bargain I’d made with her.
I was inclined to make the call because it was the right thing to do. Why? Because of the murder thing. I could spend some unpredictable amount of time in therapy trying to influence her to make the phone call herself, but with an unsolved homicide hanging in the balance, it didn’t seem like a prudent plan.
I had received information about an unsolved murder; I was in a position to help the police close the case and put the responsible party behind bars. That was a novel state of affairs for me. But what made things even more unique in my experience was the fact that the screwy circumstances allowed me a rare ethical sanctuary: I actually had my patient’s permission to share information in my possession with the police.
That doesn’t happen very often in my business. I couldn’t think of another time it had happened in my career.
But sitting across from Gibbs, I wasn’t feeling free to act. What I was feeling was hesitant. Maybe I should have heeded the caution I was feeling right then. The caution was saying:
Reconsider.
But I didn’t. Instead I stood, walked over to my desk phone, and lifted the receiver.
“I brought the number with me,” Gibbs said.
I placed the receiver back down. “I’m not as comfortable proceeding with the call as I would be if you weren’t planning to return to your home.”
Her shoulders sank a little. “ Sterling is what he is whether or not you make the call.”
“True. And I’m afraid he’s someone who may hurt you.”
“I don’t think so. He’s protective of me. I’m not saying it’s normal protectiveness, Dr. Gregory, whatever that is, but he’s protective of me.”
“Protective?”
“Yes. Very. Sterling is controlling. Very controlling. But he’s only touched me once. In anger, I mean, and that was… years ago. Many years ago. Are you going to make the call?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t.
Gibbs shifted on her chair. She sat back, crossed one leg over the other, and rested one forearm on the other. Each hand grasped the opposing biceps. “Remember I said yesterday that it wasn’t only Louise?”
“Yes.” Goose bumps shot up my spine.
She looked away from me. “You can’t tell this to the police, okay? What I’m about to tell you.”
“Actually that’s not my call to make, Gibbs. It’s yours. You decide what leaves this room.”
“Then what I tell you from now on doesn’t leave the room. You can’t tell this to Dr. Estevez or to the California police.”
“Would you like to rescind your previous release in writing?”
I immediately wondered why I’d asked her that. I couldn’t remember ever making that offer to a patient before.
She made eye contact again. “No, that’s not necessary. I trust you.”
Somehow her assurance that she trusted me wasn’t the most comforting of news. I didn’t say “okay” or “fine.” I waited silently for what was going to come next.
It turned out that Gibbs didn’t need much time to hurdle whatever obstacles she faced about continuing.
“It’s not just about Louise. I wish it were. Although I think she was the first, it’s not just about Louise. My husband has killed a number of women. All over the country.”
With false confidence I’d set down the cards of my two-pair hand, and Gibbs had trumped me with the old serial killer royal flush.
TWELVE
Good advice.
“Do not wander from designated paths and trails.” That’s what the first sign said. It was a hundred yards back, where there was still some light from the visitors’ center.
“Do not go near any water.” That order was posted ten yards farther along the trail.
Now here she was breaking all the rules. She
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