Sigma Curse - 04 by Tim Stevens Read Free Book Online Page A

sipped her tea, her eyes distant.
    “When he graduated from West Point, all he could talk about was how proud his dad would have been. In his emails and letters to me while he was training, it was all about what his dad would have experienced when he was there, and about people he’d met who’d known his dad. Dale’s father, my late husband, was more of a parent to him than I ever was.”
    Teller spoke softly, and for the first time.
    “How much do you know about Dale’s personal life, Judge Fincher?”
    She fixed Teller with that courtroom stare of hers.
    “His personal life? You mean his relationships?”
    Teller nodded.
    “He kept to himself, largely,” said the judge. “Surprisingly, for a strong, tough young man, a soldier, Dale was painfully shy. It was one of the reasons he went into the military. Apart from that he wanted to follow in his late father’s footsteps. He found social contact very difficult, and he was embarrassed by that. He believed the Army wouldn’t toughen him up. But it can only do so much, as I’m sure you’re aware, gentleman. You can change your circumstances, yes. But your nature, your temperament, is hardwired in. You can never fundamentally alter it.”
    She paused to consider.
    “He had friends, I think, of both sexes. I met one or two of them. Mostly military types. But he had difficulty sustaining relationships. Dale was a troubled young man. And I mean that in a deep-down way. It ran to the core of his being.”
    Teller was about to speak, but glanced at Venn, as if sensing he had something to ask.
    Venn said: “Judge, were you aware of your son seeking psychiatric help at all?”
    This time her gaze was sharper. “Psychiatric help?”
    Venn nodded. He thought she knew what he was talking about, and that she was stalling a little.
    She looked off once more, into some distant place inside her. “I knew he was seeing a counsellor of some kind, yes. I don’t know if it was an MD, or a psychologist, or what. It’s not so unusual. Plenty of people seek that kind of help. Soldiers, judges. Even police officers.
    Venn spread his hands to concede the point.
    “I never asked him about it, and he never told me why. But he’d brought it up in conversation once, on the phone. Casually mentioned that he had an appointment with his counselor.”
    Maybe he mentioned it for a reason, Venn thought. Maybe he wanted you to ask about it.
    “Do you have any idea why he was seeing the therapist?” asked Teller. “Did you suspect anything?”
    Again she paused to consider. “His father, I suppose,” she murmured. “He always wanted his father back, and knew he couldn’t have him. And he always gave the sense of not belonging. That seems strange, doesn’t it? He joined the military in order to find a home, and I know that the Army or the marines or whatever it is, becomes your home. They actively foster a sense of family. But although he seemed to enjoy his career, he never really felt he fitted in there. That’s just my impression. We never discussed it.”
    Venn said: “Was Dale ever hospitalized?”
    “He broke his arm when he was a teenager -”
    “I mean, for anything else,” Venn said. He saw the flicker of annoyance on the judge’s face, and realized she wasn’t accustomed to being interrupted. “For anything that might be linked to the reasons he was seeing the counselor.”
    “No.” Her answer was swift and emphatic. “I told you, I don’t know much about what he was seeing the counselor for, what was going on inside him.”
    That wasn’t the question, thought Venn. Interesting.
    They talked a little more about what had happened to Dale Fincher. Judge Fincher had clearly been briefed fully on the circumstances of her son’s death. Venn wondered if she’d been told about the serial killer angle, or if she still thought her son’s murder was an isolated killing. She hadn’t asked about the involvement of the FBI in the case, but perhaps she assumed they were