Read Online Delusion by G. H. Ephron - Free Book Online Page B

she got, the more he tightened the screws.
    â€œThe only thing that surprised me was that he let her come.” He looked me in the eye. “I’m even more surprised that he signed a release allowing me to talk to you. He didn’t trust me.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “On the other hand, he’s a guy who covers his bases.”
    Teitlebaum kept rubbing the back of his neck. I had the impression he was deciding what to do next.
    â€œLet me show you something,” he said. He put the file on the desk and opened the top drawer and rummaged through it. If the contents of a man’s desk mirror his own consciousness, then Teitlebaum had an exceptionally orderly mind. Little plastic boxes corralled his paper clips and rubber bands, his calculator was placed into the drawer so it fit perfectly alongside a checkbook and a stack of zip disks.
    â€œWhere the hell,” he muttered. “I know I put it somewhere.” He pulled open the next equally tidy drawer, reached his hand in back, and felt around. He drew out a small, black, rectangular object and handed it to me. It was made of metal and heavier than it looked. On one side was bolted a faceplate with a sort of bull’s-eye with a hole in the center. It was attached to a small metal stand.
    Nick’s words came back to me. They’ve got security cameras the size of a quarter these days . “Surveillance camera?” I asked.
    â€œHow’d you know?”
    â€œJust a guess. Where’d you find it?”

    He paused. I wondered if he was about to cross that invisible line again. “When Lisa called me, she was frantic. They’d just had a break-in at the office, and she found out that her husband had security cameras all over the place, tiny ones, like this. She’d had no idea.”
    He went on. “She’s actually the one who spotted this thing. It was up there”—he indicated the top of the bookcase—“and it may have been there awhile.”
    I stared at a spot on the top shelf where Nick Babikian might have tucked the little black box alongside the vase, or perhaps between the books. I felt the shadow of the profound sense of violation that Teitlebaum must have felt when he realized he was being watched. The privacy of the therapy room is nearly sacred, and here it had been deliberately and systematically profaned.
    â€œIt had a pack of about a dozen batteries wired to it. Apparently, he had gizmos like this all over the place at his company, hardwired into the electrical system. That’s one of the things that pushed Lisa over the edge. She found out he could watch her while she worked. He could watch everyone. With those surveillance cameras, he went a step too far. At first she was frightened. Then angry. And from that anger she drew strength.”
    He took the little camera from me and dropped it back in the drawer.
    â€œDid she know he had surveillance cameras all over their home as well?” I asked.
    He didn’t seem surprised. “That’s really sick. Well, I don’t need to tell you that.”
    â€œDid you see any changes in Lisa Babikian before her murder?” I asked.
    â€œThe changes were all for the good,” Teitlebaum said, kneading his hands together. “When I first saw them together, she was pale, listless. Her clothes hung on her. She was the kind of
person you looked right through. Over the last few months, she’d become much less transparent. She wore pinks, bright blues, much less of the olive drab. She was taking care of herself, wearing a little makeup. Wearing her hair down. She might even have gained some weight.
    â€œOf course that was just a reflection of what was going on inside. When she married him, she’d shut herself down. But she wasn’t going to any longer. I encouraged her, of course. She was trying to disentangle her identity from his, to become fully her own person. It was