Read Online Rise of a Phoenix: Rise of a Phoenix by phill syron-jones - Free Book Online

to.”
    This left her with an even more puzzled look on her face. This time it was over the mystery man Steel. Who was he and what was his connection with the killer?
    Dr. Colby Davidson sat in his black leather office chair jotting down notes as his patient rambled on about how life was meaningless without her little ‘Candy’. The elderly woman was clutching a photo of her dearly departed Chihuahua in one hand and a pink diamond studded collar in the other. The doctor, who was in his early forties, listened patiently to what she was saying, appearing to be interested, touching her shoulder to comfort her, while he heard about the dog’s grand funeral that cost more than he had paid for his Mercedes. He was a tall thin man with black greased-back hair and small black-rimmed glasses that covered his large dark eyes. He did not require spectacles, no, the ones he wore were more for show, to give him an intellectual air. His face was long, and a large Roman nose supported the unnecessary spectacles.
    “Please go on, Mrs. Burnett.” His voice was soft and sickly, like honey. He crossed one leg over the other, resting a three-thousand dollar shoe on the knee of an eight-thousand dollar suit trouser leg.
    He smelt of money and so he should, for he was in fact one of the top psychiatrists in New York, if not the country. His clothes and the furnishings in his office spoke volumes about the man. How had it come to this, he thought? How had years of training and hard work led him to a life of put him with listening to the ramblings of tired old women? He looked towards his wall of fame , where trophies and diplomas filled shelves, photos of him shaking hands with famous people, even the President himself, and a cabinet full of trophies.
    An antique gold-and-black clock chimed in the background, signalling the end of the lady’s session. She slowly got off the leather chaise longue and dried her eyes with the corner of a white embroidered handkerchief.
    “Now, Mrs. Burnett we are making progress.” He held her gloved hands.
    “Don’t worry, these things take time, dear lady, now if you speak to Beatrice she will make you another appointment.” Mrs. Burnett thanked him and left. As he shut the door, his back rested against the cool oak timber, and he raised his head and closed his weary eyes, and thanked God that the session was over.
    Moving to the drinks trolley next to a large dark wood cabinet, he could not help but think: was this it? Is it over, is there nothing more to challenge this brilliant mind? Stopping, he poured himself a drink of whisky and downed it in one.
    He sat down on his heavy-looking office chair, and turned to look out of the huge windows that revealed a magnificent view of the park. He took a sip from a freshly poured drink, and he sighed as he watched the people walking carelessly in the midday sun then he smiled just for a moment until the intercom broke his concentration.
    “Sorry to disturb you, doctor. But you have the police on line one.”
    “Thank you, put them through, Beatrice.” He was confused. Police? What on earth could they want? He had done nothing wrong!
    He picked up the receiver gingerly and placed it slowly to his ear.
    “Hello, this is Dr Davidson, how may I be of assistance?” His voice slow and tentative, but still ringing with his usual treacle tones.
    “Yes, hello, doctor. This is Captain Alan Brant of the New York Police Department. I wondered if you would be so kind as to come down to the station. Sir, we could really use someone of your expertise to help with a case we’re working on.”
    Davidson’s face cracked an eerie smile. “I would be delighted to help you with your little case, Officer.” He preened himself, arrogantly wallowing in this sudden recognition.
    “Um yes thank you, and that’s Captain, not Officer.”
    Davidson was suddenly taken aback by the policeman’s correction; he must think a lot about himself , thought the doctor, admiring himself in