conflicting needs gets unbearable."
"Maybe the psychotherapy is part of the need," I said. "Maybe he needs the opportunity to talk about it."
"But he hasn't. I have no clients talking of serial murders."
"Maybe he's still talking about them so symbolically that you don't know it," I said. "Can a patient fool you?"
"Certainly," Susan said.
"Obviously it's not in his or her best interest to do so."
"He obviously has a need to be caught," I said. "The letter to Quirk, the tape to me."
"The tape to you may not be like the letter to Quirk," Susan said.
"Maybe not, but that makes it more likely that he's connected to you," I said. "Jealousy, or some such."
Susan made a noncommittal nod.
"Jack," I said to the counterman, "I need more coffee."
"Ted does the coffee," Jack said. "I do the celery tonic."
Ted poured some coffee and brought it out and set it down in front of me.
"Planning to stay up all night?" he said.
"Caution to the winds," I said. I put some cream in and some sugar. I had a theory about diluting the caffeine. Ted went back behind the counter.
"And," I said to Susan, "the red rose in your house. It almost got him caught."
"If it was he," Susan said.
"Coming to you might be part of the desire to get caught," I said.
"Or noticed," Susan said.
"And maybe if he gets too close to getting caught, or noticed," I said,
"he'll want to save himself by killing you."
Susan was looking at the paintings on the walls.
"This is the only deli I've ever been to that had art on the walls," she said.
I didn't say anything.
"It's possible," Susan said. She was looking full at me now and I could feel the weight of her will. "But I cannot act on the possibility. I need much more."
I looked back at her without comment. My chin was resting on top of my folded hands. Sigmund Spenser.
"I will," Susan said, "keep the gun in my desk drawer, and I will keep it on my bedside table at night." She pursed her lips a little bit and relaxed them. "And I will use it if I have to."
"Okay," I said. "I know you will. And I'm going to try and find out which one of your patients it is, and I won't tell you how I'm going to do it, because I don't know what will compromise your work and what won't."
Susan laughed without very much pleasure. "It's hard to say whether we're allies or adversaries in this," she said.
"We're allies in everything, pumpkin," I said. "It's just that we don't always go about it like other people."
"Good point," Susan said, and picked up her cup of cold coffee and drank it just as if it were hot.
CHAPTER 13
I was in Susan's kitchen cleaning up breakfast when the phone rang. It was Quirk.
"Washburn's confessed," he said.
"Not surprising," I said.
"He confessed to being the Red Rose killer," Quirk said.
I didn't say anything for a minute.
"Yeah," Quirk said, "me too."
"It's bullshit," I said.
"I think he did his wife," Quirk said. "I don't believe the rest."
"What's the chain of command think?"
"Chain of command is so happy to have an arrest, they'd buy Daisy Duck for it if they had a confession," Quirk said.
"What about the guy that left the rose with Susan?" I said.
"Nobody cares about him, they don't want to hear about him," Quirk said.
"You're sticking close?"
"For the moment," I said. "Hawk's coming by around ten."
"When he gets there, come over to my office," Quirk said.
I put the dishes in the dishwasher and wiped off the counter and sat to read the Globe. They didn't have it yet. But they would. The TV people would get it first probably, but everyone would have it soon and another ring would be added to the circus.
Hawk strolled in at 9:59. He was always on time. In fact he always did everything he said he'd do. He was carrying a gym bag.
"Cops got a confession," I said.
Hawk put the gym bag on the counter in the kitchen.
"Quirk like it?" Hawk said.
"No," I said.
"Tell him about the guy ran away from you the other night?"
"Yeah."
"How Susan going to deal with it?"
"She's
"Maybe the psychotherapy is part of the need," I said. "Maybe he needs the opportunity to talk about it."
"But he hasn't. I have no clients talking of serial murders."
"Maybe he's still talking about them so symbolically that you don't know it," I said. "Can a patient fool you?"
"Certainly," Susan said.
"Obviously it's not in his or her best interest to do so."
"He obviously has a need to be caught," I said. "The letter to Quirk, the tape to me."
"The tape to you may not be like the letter to Quirk," Susan said.
"Maybe not, but that makes it more likely that he's connected to you," I said. "Jealousy, or some such."
Susan made a noncommittal nod.
"Jack," I said to the counterman, "I need more coffee."
"Ted does the coffee," Jack said. "I do the celery tonic."
Ted poured some coffee and brought it out and set it down in front of me.
"Planning to stay up all night?" he said.
"Caution to the winds," I said. I put some cream in and some sugar. I had a theory about diluting the caffeine. Ted went back behind the counter.
"And," I said to Susan, "the red rose in your house. It almost got him caught."
"If it was he," Susan said.
"Coming to you might be part of the desire to get caught," I said.
"Or noticed," Susan said.
"And maybe if he gets too close to getting caught, or noticed," I said,
"he'll want to save himself by killing you."
Susan was looking at the paintings on the walls.
"This is the only deli I've ever been to that had art on the walls," she said.
I didn't say anything.
"It's possible," Susan said. She was looking full at me now and I could feel the weight of her will. "But I cannot act on the possibility. I need much more."
I looked back at her without comment. My chin was resting on top of my folded hands. Sigmund Spenser.
"I will," Susan said, "keep the gun in my desk drawer, and I will keep it on my bedside table at night." She pursed her lips a little bit and relaxed them. "And I will use it if I have to."
"Okay," I said. "I know you will. And I'm going to try and find out which one of your patients it is, and I won't tell you how I'm going to do it, because I don't know what will compromise your work and what won't."
Susan laughed without very much pleasure. "It's hard to say whether we're allies or adversaries in this," she said.
"We're allies in everything, pumpkin," I said. "It's just that we don't always go about it like other people."
"Good point," Susan said, and picked up her cup of cold coffee and drank it just as if it were hot.
CHAPTER 13
I was in Susan's kitchen cleaning up breakfast when the phone rang. It was Quirk.
"Washburn's confessed," he said.
"Not surprising," I said.
"He confessed to being the Red Rose killer," Quirk said.
I didn't say anything for a minute.
"Yeah," Quirk said, "me too."
"It's bullshit," I said.
"I think he did his wife," Quirk said. "I don't believe the rest."
"What's the chain of command think?"
"Chain of command is so happy to have an arrest, they'd buy Daisy Duck for it if they had a confession," Quirk said.
"What about the guy that left the rose with Susan?" I said.
"Nobody cares about him, they don't want to hear about him," Quirk said.
"You're sticking close?"
"For the moment," I said. "Hawk's coming by around ten."
"When he gets there, come over to my office," Quirk said.
I put the dishes in the dishwasher and wiped off the counter and sat to read the Globe. They didn't have it yet. But they would. The TV people would get it first probably, but everyone would have it soon and another ring would be added to the circus.
Hawk strolled in at 9:59. He was always on time. In fact he always did everything he said he'd do. He was carrying a gym bag.
"Cops got a confession," I said.
Hawk put the gym bag on the counter in the kitchen.
"Quirk like it?" Hawk said.
"No," I said.
"Tell him about the guy ran away from you the other night?"
"Yeah."
"How Susan going to deal with it?"
"She's
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