The Clinic by Jonathan Kellerman Read Free Book Online

asked him why not, he didn’t have an answer. Then he says it would be a grave error to go public, one that could cause problems for the police department, because all the participants—accusers and defendants—had demanded strict confidentiality and they might sue us. When I didn’t answer, he threatened to call the police chief. I sat there and smiled. He picked up the phone, put it down, started begging. I said I understand your position and I don’t want to make problems, so give me all your written records without a hassle and I’ll exercise maximum discretion.”
    He waved the folder. “Transcripts of the three sessions. Hope taped them.”
    “Why?”
    “Who knows? Maybe she was planning another book. Incidentally, the dean said she put up a fuss about having the committee kiboshed. Academic freedom and all that. ThenWolves and Sheep came out and she lost interest.”
    “Maybe she intended to use it as material for the publicity tour.”
    “The dean suspected that, too. He said he warned her that she’d be putting herself in a Page 28

    dangerous position legally. That according to the University lawyers, since she hadn’t gotten official approval, she’d been functioning as an independent psychologist when she chaired the committee, not as a faculty member. So if she divulged information she’d be violating patient confidentiality and putting her license in jeopardy. She took issue with that and threatened to hire her own lawyer, but apparently changed her mind because that was the end of it.”
    “It’s amazing none of this ever came out after the murder.”
    “Everyone had a vested interest in keeping it quiet. Administration, students—especially the students.”
    He gave me the file. “Read it when you have a chance, let me know what you think. I can’t close my eyes to this even though I still like Hubby. Even better, now, because I just got a look at her tax returns.”
    “The book made her rich?”
    He nodded. “But even before then she had some interesting extracurricular activities. Ever hear of Robert Barone?”
    I shook my head.
    “Big-shot lawyer, does criminal defense, porn and censorship, some racketeering cases, some entertainment work—same thing, right? Last year, he paid her forty grand in consulting fees, year before that, twenty-eight.”
    “Diminished-capacity reports?”
    “Probably something like that. Barone has offices here in Century City and up in San Francisco.
    He isn’t returning my calls.”
    Drinking more milk, he said, “Her other consulting client is a Beverly Hills doctor named Milan Cruvic. He’s listed in the directory as an OB-GYN and fertility expert. Any idea why a fertility expert would pay a psychologist thirty-six grand a year? Two years in a row?”
    “Maybe she screened candidates for fertility treatment.”
    “Is that Standard Op?”
    “The procedures can be grueling. A thoughtful doctor might want to see which patients could handle them. Or provide counseling for those who couldn’t.”
    “So why not just refer to her? Why pay her directly out of his pocket?”
    “Good question.”
    “When I called Cruvic’s office his nurse said he was doing public service at some women’s clinic. Which could mean abortions—another potential point of hostility if Hope got involved in that, too. Abortion violence hasn’t come big-time to L.A. but we get everything, eventually. And that creep on TV—Neese—threw the issue around, pegged her as Ms. Slice-the-Fetus Radical Feminist. Who knows, maybe some nut got mad.”
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    “Not Neese, himself,” I said. I told him about confirming the alibi.
    “One down,” he said. “He thought she was psyching him out?”
    “Neese’s term. Trying to control him.”
    “So maybe she tried to psych out the wrong person . . . you think the abortion angle’s worth pursuing?”
    “Not really,” I said. “Hope was no standard-bearer for the cause and a political killer would have gone public in order