(Un) Sound Mind

by Richard Amico

  “Don’t worry about it,” Sam said. “The instinctive, natural way to express anger is to respond aggressively. Anger is a natural, adaptive response to threats; it inspires powerful, often aggressive feelings and behaviors, which allow us to fight and to defend ourselves when we are attacked. A certain amount of anger, therefore, is necessary for our survival.”

  Ruth looked perplexed as she poked her head out of the partially open kitchen door. In the center of the living room, Sam stood reading aloud from an article in Human Nature Review. He looked up, saw Ruth, and began to laugh.

  Ruth shook her head. “How about stirring up the fire, Sigmund? The coffee will be ready in a minute.”

  A half hour later, Sam and Ruth were deeply involved in Sam’s most recent theory of the crime. The case had been reopened, and Hyrum Green was now a person of interest. “Do you like him for the murders?” Ruth asked.

  “Do I like him?” Sam asked. “I think you’ve been watching too much television, but Dr. Green did elude our stakeout and disappeared. He certainly is moving up on the list.”

  “What about Franklin—are you satisfied that he couldn’t have committed the crimes?”

  “Not totally,” Sam said, pouring a second cup of coffee for Ruth and himself. “He knows things about the crimes, like the shape and location of Sylvia’s tattoo, but he doesn’t seem to have the strength or physical capability to have killed her. She was very fit, according to the medical examiner, and put up quite a struggle. I think we’re looking for someone stronger than Franklin, or at least someone without his disability.”

  Sam stood and walked to the living room window. He parted the drapes, lifted the shade, and observed the makeshift silverware window alarm; then he looked at the shotgun, and finally at Ruth.

  “What are you doing here alone?” Sam asked. “I thought you were vacationing with your daughter.”

  “I sent her home. She has school tomorrow.”

  “Why didn’t you go with her? You know, it’s possible that the murderer could come looking for you.” He stepped into the bedroom and noticed that the bedroom window did not have a fork alarm.

  “Oh, I guess I didn’t think of that,” Ruth said, turning to watch him investigate.

  “Wait a minute,” Sam said, striding back into the room. “You stayed here hoping to catch the murderer. Do you have reason to believe he’s here? Have you seen someone suspicious near the cabin?”

  “Just you,” Ruth said, still not meeting his eyes.

  “You were ready; you were lying in wait for the killer. You have alarms on all the windows except for the bedroom.” He opened the living room window and watched the fork fall into the pot with a loud clatter. “Do you have a death wish?”

  “Oh, it works,” Ruth said involuntarily, then immediately wiped the smile from her face. “Ah, no, I just happened to take that old shotgun off the rack on the fireplace mantel when I heard a noise outside. I didn’t even know if the gun was loaded.”

  “And I guess those aren’t shotgun shells bulging out of your pockets,” Sam said, pointing at the stuffed pockets of her slacks and sweater.

  “Look, Sam, I have been afraid that someone may have followed me up here since the day I arrived. I tried to call you, but I was told you were away on assignment. I sent Emma home to keep her out of harm’s way. I can’t live in fear. I’d rather fight.”

  “That sounds noble, but foolish. You can’t catch this man. He’s killed at least two women already. You’re not a detective, you’re a…a…”

  “A woman?” Ruth said, standing to face him.

  “I was going to say a psychologist, but you certainly are a woman.” The sides of Sam’s mouth turned up ever so slightly into a smile.

  Ruth softened her stare. She actually felt that he was paying her a compliment. “Well, I was scared. I thought someone might be following me, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “I know what to do,” Sam said, placing the shotgun back on the gun rack. “You and I are going into West Haven. We’ll have dinner and stay at a hotel for the night. I have a room booked.” He paused. “And I’m sure they will have another.” Now Sam avoided Ruth’s eyes. “Then tomorrow, in the daylight, we’ll come back and pack your things and go home.”

  Ruth usually had difficulty taking orders, but he was right. She swallowed her pride and said, “Give me a minute to get my toothbrush and a change of clothes.”

  Sam and Ruth walked along the path to the clearing that served as a parking lot for the cabin. “Where’s your car?” Ruth asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You lost your car, Detective?” Ruth chided.

  “I can find it tomorrow while you pack.” Sam walked to Ruth’s car with his head held high, his demeanor indicating that there was nothing at all unusual about losing one’s car.

  Sam stopped so abruptly that Ruth walked into him. He held his arm out to steady her. He looked left and right, searching the area. He held his finger to his lips and listened. “What’s wrong?” Ruth whispered. Sam reached under his jacket with his right hand and closed his fingers around the butt of his Sig Sauer P226. With his left hand, he pointed to Ruth’s car. All four tires were flat, the metal wheels pressing deeply into the deflated rubber sidewalls.

  A crunch of gravel on the narrow road and twin beams of light sweeping around a turn preceded a car slowly driving to the parking area. Sam held his automatic at his side and slightly behind his back as he pulled Ruth behind her car. The glare from the headlights now obscured the oncoming car and its driver. The vehicle pulled behind Ruth’s car and stopped.

  Ruth and Sam stood bathed in a circle of light, momentarily blinded by the glare of the headlights. “Stay here and keep low,” he said, motioning to a spot in front of her car. Sam slowly walked toward the now stationary maroon Mercedes. He tried to block some of the glare with his left hand, holding his gun on his right side at the ready.

  “Police,” Sam shouted. “Shut off your headlights and step out of the car.”

  The headlights went out. The possibility of seeing the driver was now negated by the tinted windshield. With a click, the door began to open. Sam stopped short. Again Ruth, not anticipating his sudden stop, walked into his back. “You’re going to get us both killed,” Sam whispered without turning his head. “Didn’t I say to stay put?”

  “I didn’t want to be alone,” Ruth said, also whispering. “And besides, I recognize the car. It’s Dr. Green.”

  “You don’t know that,” Sam said. “Thousands of people could have the same make and color car as Dr. Green.”

  “Yes, but how many of those people have a vanity plate on the front bumper saying DDS-NO1? That’s Hyrum’s car, Sherlock; I see it in the parking lot all the time,” Ruth hissed.

  “Even more reason to be cautious,” Sam whispered, now turning to look at Ruth out of the corner of his eye while still watching the door of the car. “He’s our primary murder suspect.”

  “You said he was just a person of interest twenty minutes ago,” Ruth said, stepping alongside Sam.

  “Well, I just upgraded him,” Sam said, turning toward Ruth and slightly raising the volume and intensity of his whisper. “He’s wanted for questioning.” Sam’s right hand now pointed his gun at the car door to keep the driver in check while they spoke.

  “Maybe you’d like to just shoot him, and then you can question him later,” Ruth said in full voice.

  “Maybe I should arrest you for interfering with a murder investigation,” Sam shouted.

  “Interfering? I’m just offering some psychological reasoning instead of your usual brute force. Who told you that Mortimer Banks was not the killer and you should reopen the case? Who told you that you had the wrong man when you arrested Franklin? Who said—”

  “Excuse me,” came a quavering voice from within the car. “If you’re finished arguing, I’d like to get out of the car now. Could you please lower your gun, Lieutenant?”

  Sam and Ruth were now staring
into each other’s eyes. They stared for a long moment, eyes locked. All expression drained from their faces. Sam exhaled loudly and walked to the car door. “What are you doing here, Dr. Green?”

  “Am I under arrest?” Hyrum said. “I was concerned about Dr. Klein, and I came here to see that she was all right. There’s no law against that, is there?”

  Sam lowered his gun to his side and opened the driver’s door of the Mercedes. “Please step out of the car, Dr. Green.”

  “First tell me what I’ve done.”

  Sam placed his pistol back in its holster under his left arm and stepped back from the car door. He didn’t have any conclusive evidence that Hyrum had committed any crime, but he felt a good deal of skepticism about Hyrum’s stated reason for his visit. “No, you’re not under arrest, Dr. Green, but I do have a few questions I would like to ask you about the murders of Sylvia Radcliffe and Michelle Ackerman.”

  “And if I don’t want to answer your questions?”

  “Well, that’s your right. If you don’t want to talk to me, you can leave. But once you’re back in the city, I will bring you in for questioning as a material witness. Now we can talk here informally, or I can have two officers come to your office next week and bring you in. I personally would want to avoid that kind of embarrassment.”

  “I have nothing to hide. Can we talk inside? It’s been a long drive, and I would like to use your restroom.”

  Sam extended his arm toward the cabin, and Hyrum began to walk in a hurried fashion in front of Ruth and Sam.

  Sam whispered to Ruth. “You see, I can use psychology as well as brute force to change someone’s mind.”

  “You mean that not-so-veiled threat was an attempt at psychology?” Ruth laughed.

  “There’s just no satisfying you, is there?” Sam said as he stormed away, following Hyrum.

  35

  Heat from the crackling fire in the open hearth flooded the living room. Sam had directed Hyrum to sit in the wooden rocking chair he’d positioned in front of the fireplace. Hyrum, still wearing his jacket, was feeling the effects of his close proximity to the flames. Beads of perspiration had formed on his forehead and were now dripping down his face. Sam stood alongside, leaning his elbow on the mantel, watching Hyrum mop his brow. He waited until Hyrum displayed just the right amount of discomfort before he began his questioning. Right on cue, Ruth rose from the couch and headed toward the kitchen.

  “I’ll make some fresh coffee.”

  Sam watched her disappear into the next room. “Paper cups will do, if you have them.” A loud clatter from the kitchen and the banging of cabinet doors satisfied Sam that she had heard.

  “None for me,” Hyrum said. He was ready.

  Sam now went into his interrogation mode. “Tell me about your relationship with Sylvia Radcliffe.”

  “She was a patient. I saw her four, maybe five times for dental work. That’s all.”

  “I know that you and Sylvia were having an affair, Doctor. I could prove it in court, but I don’t think it will do much good for your dental practice or for your marriage if I do.”

  “There’s no need to threaten me, Lieutenant. Yes, I admit Sylvia and I were close, but I had nothing to do with her death. As a matter of fact, I was out of town the night she was killed. And I can prove it.”

  Sam smiled and paced in front of Hyrum’s chair. “Yes, that’s right; your wife said you both were together on that night.”

  Ruth stepped out of the kitchen and watched Hyrum closely, looking for any sign, gesture, or behavioral tic that might help determine his truthfulness. Hyrum sat tall in the wooden chair, looking around the room.

  Sam had been less than honest about claiming he could prove that Hyrum and Sylvia were having an affair, but the ruse paid off.

  “Where exactly were you that night?” Sam asked, calling Hyrum’s bluff.

  Hyrum looked directly into Sam’s accusing blue eyes. “I was in New York, one hundred and twenty miles away. I have the hotel receipt, a parking receipt from the garage, and a citation for speeding that one of your comrades-in-arms presented to me. I’m sure, if you check, you will find witnesses to prove my whereabouts.”

  Ruth watched Sam take this crushing blow with grace and dignity. He spoke with no discernible emotion. “And of course your wife was with you all night. Isn’t that what she said?”

  Ruth focused on Hyrum’s eyes. When he answered the question about his whereabouts on that evening, he had shifted his eyes toward the upper left, a sign that he was recalling memories of the past, but now he was directing his eyes toward the upper right. It was a sign that he was creating images. Ruth was sure that his next statement was going to be a lie.

  “Yes, of course, she was with me all night.”

  Ruth stood in the doorway to the living room, holding a tray containing a carafe of coffee and three cups. She caught Sam’s eye and slowly shook her head from side to side. Sam looked confused at first, but then nodded. He moved into the center of the room, directly in front of the fireplace.

  Sam decided that an accusation might shake Hyrum’s alibi loose. He beat down his desire to grab Hyrum and shake the truth out of him and instead calmly declared, “So you ensured that you had a strong alibi while your accomplice committed the murder. If you forced your wife to lie for you, let me remind you that she could be considered an accessory, and she would be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”

  Hyrum reached across to the sofa. He seized a pillow by its corner and pulled it onto his lap, holding it as a barrier between himself and Sam Peirce. “Leave Elaine out of this. She had nothing to do with these murders,” he yelled.

  Ruth again caught Sam’s eye and shook her head.

  Sam paused and then changed the subject. “Were you meeting someone here, your accomplice perhaps?”

  Hyrum sat back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.

  “Were you meeting the person in the silver car who has been following me for two days?” Ruth asked.

  “Someone has been following you in a silver car?” Sam said, walking across the room to Ruth.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “Tell me about it now,” Sam insisted.

  “It’s nothing. It’s probably the same person who was chasing me through the woods the first night.”

  “Who was chasing you through the woods?” Sam and Hyrum said together and then looked at each other.

  “I don’t know; I never got a good look at him.”

  “Him?” said Hyrum.

  “Who were you coming here to meet?” Sam asked. He turned, stood behind Hyrum, and placed his hands on the back of Hyrum’s chair.

  “No one—I drove up here to make sure Dr. Klein was all right,” he said over his shoulder. “The police officers who stopped to ask if I had seen anything unusual the night of the break-in at Dr. Klein’s office told me that they had not been able to contact her. I was concerned.”

  “How did you know she was here?” Sam asked. “It took the police several days to discover she had come to this cabin.”

  “It wasn’t so difficult,” Hyrum said. Sam’s eyebrows rose at the remark. He tilted Hyrum’s chair back and looked over the back so that they were face-to-face. Hyrum gripped the arms of the chair to keep from sliding back on the seat. “A flier from the real estate broker was pinned to the bulletin board in the lobby. I thought Dr. Klein might have seen it. So, on a hunch I called the broker. She gave me the location of the cabin.” “Did you tell the broker you were looking for Dr. Klein?” Sam locked eyes with Hyrum Green. “Or did you pretend that you were interested in renting the cabin, pretending that Ruth, Dr. Klein”—he nodded to Ruth as he corrected himself—“recommended you call?”

  “Look, Lieutenant, I thought Dr. Klein…Ruth…was alone here. I thought maybe you could use some company,” he said, turning to Ruth again as he spoke. Ruth shook her head and instinctively stepped back a few steps.

  “I didn’t know that the t
wo of you were”—Hyrum paused—“together.”

  “We’re not together,” Sam said, releasing the back of the rocking chair, which caused Hyrum to pitch forward. “I’m here on police business.”

  “That was a fast reply,” Ruth said, folding her arms across her chest. “I thought you drove here because you were worried about me.”

  “Well, yes,” Sam said, turning toward Ruth. Sam tried to determine how he could explain this without hurting her feelings yet maintain a strictly business relationship. “I was concerned that you weren’t answering your calls. I thought the murderer might have followed you up here.”

  Ruth took two steps closer to Sam. “I can take care of myself. I had a plan. I was ready for all contingencies.”

  “Really,” Sam replied. “Were you going to shoot your attacker with the safety still set on your shotgun?”

  “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

  “You would have gotten yourself killed,” Sam yelled.

  “Yes, and you already have two dead bodies,” Ruth said. “I guess a third dead body would make the department look bad.”

  “If you two are busy, I can come back later,” Hyrum said.

  “Shut up!” Sam and Ruth said in unison.

  Hyrum mopped the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief, stood, and stepped away from the fire. “I came up here thinking Dr. Klein might be lonely. I made a mistake. If you’re going to arrest me, do it. If not, I’ll leave you to your discussion of police business. I didn’t know that you liked each other.”

  “We don’t like each other.” The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to take them back.

  Now Sam looked hurt. He folded his arms across his chest.