Beauty vs. the Beast

by M. J. Rodgers

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did it upset you that your problem might be mental?”

  “I knew my problem was not mental. It was the blackouts and what happened during those times.”

  “I...see,” Kay said, not really seeing at all. “And when you discovered that Roy took over during those blackout periods, was it your idea or was it Dr. Steele’s idea to try to extinguish Roy from your life?”

  “I told Dr. Steele I wished to be rid of the disruptive blackouts and their cause. Dr. Steele agreed after a time.”

  “Are you happy that Dr. Steele extinguished Roy?”

  “I will always be thankful. If Dr. Steele had not gotten rid of him, I believe that Roy would have eventually killed himself and me.”

  Kay would have felt a lot better about Lee’s words if his expression hadn’t remained so deadpan and his tone so lifeless.

  “Earlier you said you’d been mailing out some samples to a client when suddenly you blacked out. Is that the work you typically perform for your employer?”

  “I was a mail clerk at a local marketing firm. Putting together and mailing the material for product presentations was my primary function. I no longer work for that company. I started my own firm three years ago.”

  Kay was surprised. “Your own firm? What kind of firm?”

  “Marketing, the same type as the one I worked for. Now my company is almost as big as the one I left. I’m opening satellite offices in Portland and San Francisco later this year.”

  Kay sent a big smile to accompany her words. “After only three years? That’s very impressive, Mr. Nye. You must possess a strong entrepreneurial spirit.”

  For the first time since the interview began, Kay thought she saw a small ripple of feeling cross Lee Nye’s impassive face.

  “I like...numbers. That’s all it is, really. Meeting the challenge of positioning products correctly just involves some calculations. It all comes down to finding the right equation.”

  “The right equation?” Kay echoed.

  Lee held out his left hand, palm up. “On one end, the producer.” He held out his right hand, palm up. “On the other end, the consumer.” He leaned forward until his body was between his hands. “I am in the middle—the equal sign.”

  “You see yourself as an equal sign?”

  “A part of the right equation. I am the thing that makes the system equate properly. You understand?”

  The thing that makes the system equate properly. Kay understood all right. She only wished she didn’t.

  * * *

  DAMIAN WATCHED Kay get up to pace her office the second after Lee left. A frown drew her eyebrows together.

  “Lee is obviously willing to testify on your behalf,” she began. “He articulates well. He says all the right things. I don’t think there’s a lawyer alive who could get him riled on the stand. And his business acumen says much for his successful integration into society since Roy was extinguished.”

  The “but” was there at the end of her sentence, despite the fact that she hadn’t given it voice. Damian was pretty sure that, considering who the lady was, she wouldn’t be able to keep it unspoken much longer. He waited.

  She stopped her pacing after a moment and turned to face him. “No one is going to believe that this Roy could have drunk himself senseless, only for Lee to wake a moment later perfectly sober. That’s just not physically possible.”

  “It happens with multiple personalities, Kay, and it’s only one of the mind-bending realities that have been documented many times with these people.”

  “One personality getting drunk while another stays sober?”

  “Absolutely. When the personalities are aware of one another, sometimes they’ll get together and decide who will be the nondrinking designated driver, and then the rest will go ahead and drink whatever they want.”

  “And you’re telling me the personality that drives them home is sober?”

  “Yes.”

  “That flies in the face of all logic.”

  “These cases frequently do. Depending on which personality of a multiple is controlling the mind, even such verifiable medical conditions as allergic skin rashes, cysts, tumors, tuberculosis, even symptoms of pregnancy have been diagnosed only to disappear when another personality takes over.”

  “That’s incredible.”

  “So are the brain wave patterns that change dramatically when a different personality is in charge of the consciousness. All of which tells us we know next to nothing about the synergy between mind and body.”

  “You say this has been documented?”

  “There are dozens of case histories you can introduce to help substantiate Lee’s experiences and perceptions.”

  Kay took a deep breath and let it out. “No, I doubt if anything could help.”

  “Kay? What is it?”

  “It was...unnerving. Lee talked about being saddled with the Roy personality as though Roy had been an annoying cough. When he described waking up to a rat biting his fingers in some stinking alley with no idea how he got there, it was with the same mild irritation that someone would express because the waiter brought the wrong soup.”

  She swung around and headed for her desk. “You said Lee was unusual. You didn’t say he possessed about as much human warmth as cottage cheese.”

  Damian understood her reaction. At one time, it had been his, too, before he had grasped what had happened to this individual. Now he was filled with awe for the resilience of the human spirit.

  “Kay, this might take some time for you to fully appreciate, but Lee’s unusualness stems from the dissociation his mind went through.”

  “Dissociation?”

  “What we talked about briefly the first day I came to your office. As a helpless child, this individual was subjected to severe mental and physical abuse from which he could not escape. He could have gone insane. Instead, his mind mastered the ability to create different personalities that protected themselves from both the memories and the feelings of the abuse.”

  “You mean this blandness is because he doesn’t feel anything?”

  “The Lee personality expresses annoyance and impatience and mild appreciation. But he’s removed from any deeper feelings of anger or pain or pleasure.”

  “How can someone remove himself from feelings?”

  “Multiple-personality people often possess superior intelligence. Their minds can do many things that are hard for the rest of us to understand. How they do these things, we’re still not sure.”

  “But what about all the positive emotions, like joy and wonder? Why would Lee dissociate them?”

  “If you’re going to give up deep feelings, it’s generally an all-or-nothing thing.”

  “But, Damian, to willingly give up emotions?”

  “We don’t know that will has anything to do with the mind splitting into multiple personalities and dissociating from emotion. I believe that, quite apart from will, the split may be a creative and inborn survival mechanism of these highly intelligent people.”

  “But how could such an intelligent child give up joy?”

  “He lived a nightmare of horrendous abuse. For him, giving up joy might not have been much of a sacrifice.”

  Her mouth tightened. “That’s so damn...tragic.”

  Damian could tell her heart had trouble with these things, despite how disciplined she had trained her mind to be. He was glad she had this trouble. A person too removed from the pain of others was too much in danger of being removed from his or her own humanity.

  He smiled at the small frown that had reappeared between her light-colored eyebrows. “Society has never properly acknowledged the importance of the parenting role. Otherwise, it would be awarding the million-dollar contracts to the exceptional mothers and fathers—not the football players and movie stars.”

  Her eyes gazed into his for a long moment before she said anything. When she finally did, the corners of her lips had risen ever so gently into a smile.r />
  “There may be something to say about psychologists running the country for a while.”

  He smiled back. “Considering that comes from a member of the profession that does run the country, I take that as a high compliment.”

  Her smile expanded until it lit up the room with warmth. He basked in its glow as he let his mind toy with some of the more interesting nonverbal ways he’d like to bring out that smile. She looked away, obviously uncomfortable with the moment of intimacy and prolonged eye contact that had grown between them.

  He watched her with some amusement and more than a bit of regret that he could do nothing about that unconscious tugging at her right earlobe. He wondered if she knew how close she’d come to kissing him on that stairwell yesterday.

  No, probably not. He doubted whether she understood that she shared a small but significant similarity with Lee. She, too, was denying her deeper emotions and needs, pretending they didn’t matter and that she could do without them. He wondered, not for the first time, just how much woman hid beneath that all-business suit and that sharp, logical mind.

  “Did you ever talk to Lee about his stunted emotions?”

  Damian reluctantly refocused his thoughts to their conversation. “Extensively, both before and after I was successful in extinguishing Roy.”

  “But you couldn’t help him?”

  “Before Roy was extinguished, Lee could concentrate on nothing but getting rid of the disruptive personality. Afterward, he told me I had cured him of his blackout episodes and that was all that was necessary.”

  “And I just bet he told you with that same deadpan face and voice.”

  Damian nodded. “Lee told me quite matter-of-factly that he didn’t need any deeper emotions. He was doing fine without them.”

  “Is this lack of emotional depth common in a multiple-personality patient?”

  “It’s not atypical for one or more of the personalities to have rejected emotions.”

  “Had Roy?”

  “No, quite the contrary. He was a bundle of intense negative emotions, very close to the surface and, for the most part, violent and spontaneous.”

  “Spontaneity,” Kay said. “Yes, that’s another thing Lee lacks. Well, there goes our star defense witness.”

  Her comment surprised him. “You’re not going to put Lee on the stand?”

  “Damian, a good witness must possess many qualities, the most important of which are likability and believability. Lee says all the right things, but without the expression of the normal human emotions to underlie the recitation of his harrowing experiences, a jury would never sympathize with him.”

  “I see the difficulty. But you said yourself that his testimony was a vital component to my defense.”

  “Believe me, not putting him on the stand is now far more vital to your defense.”

  Damian sat on the edge of her desk. “Why don’t I take the stand before Lee and explain his emotional dissociation. I’m sure I could get the jury to understand the circumstances that have made him the way he is.”

  “Possibly. But I’m not sure I want even you to take the stand.”

  This surprised Damian even more. “You don’t want me to take the stand? I would think that the jury would expect me to tell my side of the story.”

  “The problem is, you wouldn’t just be giving your side of the story and explaining what brought you to your decision about extinguishing Roy. You would be cross-examined by Croghan. And he’d do his best to paint you as some quack or psychotic doctor.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “Damian, I know that. But when a defendant takes the stand, no matter how articulate and innocent he is, his testimony is tainted in the mind of the jurors simply by the fact that he is the accused. I would much prefer to have other credible people in your profession testify to your competence and the solidness of your treatment procedure with Lee.”

  “You want others to validate my actions so I don’t look defensive.”

  “Exactly. And speaking of defensive, you haven’t ever been involved with the police—arrested, sued or anything like that, have you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Because you can bet if you had been, Croghan would find out and make sure the jury learned of it.”

  “Even if it had nothing to do with this case?”

  “Especially if it had nothing to do with this case. No, if it’s at all possible, I’d like to keep you off the stand and get the other psychologists to support your treatment method. They will, won’t they?”

  “I fully expect them to, despite the fact that they never actually met Lee or Roy in person.”

  “They didn’t? But I thought you said earlier this week that the two psychologists whose names you gave me were familiar with the case?”

  “We went over the particulars in depth. They didn’t actually interview the patient.”

  “But they concurred with your treatment based on the data you shared?”

  “Yes.”

  Kay recircled her desk and opened her file folder on the case. “Have you been able to reach either of them yet?”

  “First one on the list, Dr. Jerry Tummel, said he’ll be happy to testify, although he’d like at least two days’ notice before he has to appear.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. When can he come to the office for a preliminary interview?”

  “He’s booked solid during the days but told me he would try to make himself available for an evening get-together. He’s promised to call me tomorrow to set it up. I’ve listed his credentials and publishing credits for you there,” he said, pointing to the file.

  “Impressive. What about the other psychologist, Dr. Pat Fetter?”

  “Pat is a specialist in multiple personality, and is even in the process of writing a book about it. Unfortunately, at the moment, she’s incognito conducting a two-week, multiple-personality treatment session in some undisclosed, rural town in Idaho. She’s kept it hush-hush because several multiples are attending and she doesn’t want them bothered by the press. Her receptionist says there’s no phone to reach her on, and she has to rely on Pat calling in for messages.”

  “That’s tough. We really should have two psychologists to help counteract what Dr. Van Pratt is going to say.”

  “You know what Van Pratt is going to say?”

  “I know it won’t agree with your treatment of the case, otherwise Croghan wouldn’t be calling him to the stand. With your help, I’m going to have to find out everything I can about the man. I have to be ready to counteract and thoroughly discredit his testimony.”

  “Wouldn’t it be enough to just shed doubt? After all, the burden of proof rests with Croghan. He’s the one who must prove his case beyond a reasonable doubt in the minds of all the jurors.”

  “That’s criminal law, Damian. In civil law, it’s the preponderance of evidence that prevails. If the majority of the jurors decides that the evidence is even slightly tipped in Mrs. Nye’s favor, then they’re going to find for her and award her damages accordingly.”

  “So we have to weight the scales in our favor.”

  “That’s the game plan, and the play is to discredit Dr. Van Pratt at every turn. The jury cannot be allowed to believe anything but that extinguishing Roy was the appropriate thing to do. I have to be ready for whoever Croghan puts up on the stand and for whatever they’re going to say.”

  Damian glanced down the witness list. “He’s got Mrs. Nye and her two children listed. You really think they’ll all testify?”

  “Yes. He’s even listed them twice.”

  “Twice?”

  “Yes, look again on this fourth page. See? On the first page, they are shown as Fedora Nye, Larry Nye and Rosy Nye. On the fourth page, they’re listed again with only their first initial—F. Nye, L. Nye and R. Nye.”

  “Just to pad the list to make it look overwhelmingly long.”

  “It’s long enough even without that duplication.”

  “Who else on
this list will he actually call besides the Nyes and Dr. Van Pratt?”

  “Maybe you can help answer that question. Take a quick look and let me know if any of the names sound familiar.”

  Damian paused for a quick perusal. “No. Nothing jumps out.”

  “The Nyes and the doctor may be all he figures he has to put up there, particularly if the prospective jurors have seen any of the news broadcasts of the grieving widow. He obviously got her the airtime to sway whatever minds he could. My first job on Monday will be to find jurors who...”

  Kay stopped speaking abruptly when a tall, striking woman with long black hair, dressed in a blue and gray jogging suit, suddenly stepped into the office.

  The newcomer’s voice was very deep and husky. “Kay, I have to talk to you. Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you weren’t in here alone.”

  “Not a problem, AJ. Come on in. Damian, this is Ariana Justice—better known as AJ—the head of a private investigation firm we use. AJ, my client Dr. Damian Steele.”

  AJ stepped forward and Damian felt the strong, solid shake of her hand. She certainly shared her brother’s dark good looks. She also shared the detached, mirrorlike aloofness in her pale blue eyes. Their reflective stare was even more disturbing to Damian than when he had first seen its like in Adam Justice’s eyes many years ago, when they’d met.

  “If it’s something urgent, AJ,” Kay said, “I’m sure Dr. Steele won’t mind if I step outside with you for a moment.”

  “We might as well talk right here,” AJ said as she turned back to Kay. “This concerns Dr. Steele, too.”

  “Something about the case?” Kay asked.

  AJ slipped into the nearest chair. Her movements reminded Damian of a very supple and alert dancer, waiting for the next cue, never quite at rest. She looked from Damian to Kay.

  “Yes, you could say that. I have some bad news and some worse news. Which one do you want to hear first?”

  Damian watched Kay as she faced the private investigator. Her expression retained its cool calm, her voice did not waver. But he could see the almost imperceptible straightening of her spine, as though she were preparing herself for the blow.

  “Let’s work up to this. Give me the bad first.”