“He a winner or a loser?”
“Sometimes he’d win. Sometimes he’d lose. Nothing he couldn’t cover. Tom was always a lot of fun. We’d go out to shows when we were out of town. He loved comedy clubs. We’d have dinner out, go dancing, order champagne on room service.”
“What about drugs?”
“What about them? Not while that’s on.”
Blake cut off the tape. “Sure, there were drugs. The Fifth Down Club would get together and do plenty of blow. I don’t know who bought it. It wasn’t me. I never even did it. I just watched, that’s all.”
“What about Tom?”
“Yeah, he’d do some. Not as much as some of the others. Christ, Broadus’s girl went after it like a Hoover. That was her nickname, in fact.”
Blake turned the recorder back on. “Who paid for all this fun?”
“Tom did. He was generous. That was one of his best features. He bought me that setup over there and the fur coat I was wearing tonight. He even gave me the down payment for my car. Tom was fun. I got to hang out, be a part of the team, get to do things and go places other people would kill for. I’d tell my friends about being at the game, partying with the team, meeting players from other teams. They’d be so jealous. I got autographs for Alex from every player we met and I brought back souvenirs from every place we ever went. See those pictures on the wall? That’s Alex with Ox Henderson, down in the corner. And that’s T. J. Hoskins with him over there.”
“All right, this is how it’s gonna go down.” Blake turned off the tape. “I’m going to talk to my client about whether he’ll need you to sign an affidavit about all this stuff and whether you’ll be asked to testify. I don’t know.”
“But you’re not gonna tell Roland or the county are you? You promised.”
“No. I’m not going to tell them about tonight. And you’re not going to tell Tully either. But I’m going to keep my eyes on you. If you ever leave the kid alone again, you’ll wind up being a mother in name only. Do you understand me? No second chances.”
Tiffany nodded her head silently.
“Don’t get up. I’ll let myself out.” Blake went out through the living room and retrieved his jacket from the hall closet. Zipping it up, he heard a plaintive voice from behind a closed door. “Mom, Mom, is that you? Can I come out?”
Blake pulled the door behind him, hoping that she’d screw up and do it soon.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Morgan Reece looked at the Rorschach results from Dr. Frazier. Tom Tully’s was uninterpretable due to a low number of responses. What a surprise. Tully’s defensiveness had rendered the results of all the psychological tests suspect. Dr. Frazier had noted that despite the low number there were two responses that were pathognomic, regardless of what number of responses were made. These were indications of pathological narcissism and were never seen in the “normal” population.
Serena Tully’s tests were more amenable to interpretation. She was not “crazy” in that the schizophrenic indicators were not elevated. She was hypervigilant, though not formally paranoid, and clinically depressed. Her short-term suicide risk indicators were close to the cut-off score. Painful self-scrutiny was rampant and her coping skills were taxed to their limit. Emotions were actually fairly well controlled. However, she had not developed a successful problem-solving style, shuttling from trial and error to a feeling-dominated approach.
No news there, Reece thought, rubbing his eyes. The testing confirmed his own observations and gave him reason to trust them. He got up, went to the kitchen, poured himself another cup of coffee and returned to read the old hospital records that had arrived and Tepper’s case notes. At ten-thirty he made a last effort to reach Tepper, who hadn’t responded to any of his previous calls. This time he got through.
“Dr. Tepper, Dr. Reece here. Sorry to call you so late, but I’ve got an impending hearing regarding Serena Tully and I wanted to clarify some things that emerged after reading your notes. Could we talk now or schedule another time to do this?”
“If this isn’t going to be too long, let’s go ahead and do it now.”
“Fine. I noticed a change in your notes a few months back. They became very terse, almost cryptic. Not much beyond her attendance. What prompted that?”
“Serena was convinced that, her husband was thinking about a divorce. She was afraid that he’d use her mental health against her. As it turns out, he has from what she’s told me. I began to keep more skeletal records so that they couldn’t be turned into a weapon against her.”
“Up to that time things looked pretty stable. Has there been any change in her functioning since then?”
“You mean this recent deterioration?”
“No. I know she’s under quite a bit of stress. I mean before that. What of note isn’t in the records? Any emergencies, crises?”
“No. Her functioning was really quite stable until her husband declared war on her.”
“What was she working on in therapy?”
“She was trying to adjust her expectations of marriage, to get what she could from her husband and find appropriate avenues for getting other needs met. She’d made the decision, at least at this point, to stay together for the children’s sake. She felt that a separation would have been very traumatic to both of them. She wanted to ease back into the workplace so that by the time the little girl was in school she could care for them on her own. She felt that money would be the biggest issue with her husband and if she could walk away without child support, alimony or property, he wouldn’t contest custody. She turned out to be wrong about that.”
“If she’s had an affair, that changes the equation quite a bit. Tom Tully’s a wounded, angry man. He doesn’t want her to have anything. What do you know about this ‘alleged’ affair?”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Reece. I know we have a consent to exchange information but Mrs. Tully has explicitly directed me not to disclose anything about that, apparently on her attorney’s advice.”
“I understand. Did you make any changes to your treatment plan in the last few months? Did you consider medication for her?”
“No. I haven’t made any changes in her treatment plan. We discussed medication, but she felt that would look bad in court so she’s resisted it. I’ve recommended Prozac, but I haven’t pushed it. If she really looks like she can’t handle things, I’ll be more assertive about that. Right now, it’s a day-to-day decision.”
“What diagnosis have you used for her?”
“Well, initially I used Mixed Personality Disorder on Axis II and Depression on Axis I. Then I …”
“Excuse me, what types did you see on Axis II?”
“There were elements of passive-dependent and histrionic. For a while I thought she might have been a borderline. I’m sure you’ve seen it, the idealization, the rapid intense attachment, then just as quickly the devaluation and rage. Well, Serena didn’t show the latter phase. Her attachments are rapid and intense. She has a terrible fear of abandonment. The histrionic aspect is secondary, a mechanism for creating attachments. The socially approved pathology for many women. Sexy, helpless, accommodating. When needs aren’t met and she’s disappointed, she has that borderline rage, but she devalues herself and turns it against herself. I guess that’s the difference I saw. In our work together we focused on her self-esteem, separating it from the man she was with, developing reasonable expectations from relationships and being more assertive about getting her needs met. I used a diagnosis of Adjustment Disorder with Mixed Features recently. I think she’d be doing much better if this divorce and custody battle hadn’t come up.”
“What can you recall her saying about the children and her relationship to them?”
“We really didn’t focus terribly much on the children. I don’t think she felt that they were central to the problems in her life. Mostly we focused on her relationships to men and to herself. I think she felt that she had a good relationship with the children. She was pretty secure in her identity a
s a mother. The problems were in her identity as a woman and a wife.”
“Thank you. Doctor Tepper. I appreciate your help in this matter. It sounds like you’ve done good work with Mrs. Tully.”
“Oh, she’s done all the work. I’ve created the space for it to happen.”
“Goodnight, Doctor,” Reece said and returned to his preparations. No matter how many evaluations he had done, he approached each one with a good deal of anxiety. He strenuously resisted feeling complacent about his work, sure that it was a beacon for disaster. As a young boy he’d finally stood up to the neighborhood bully and surprised everyone by beating him in a fight. Standing over him he felt the leaden cloud of physical fear fall away. No sooner had he felt free and strong than his foe’s older brother clubbed him from behind, drove him to his knees and together the two of them kicked him until a neighbor said she’d call the police.
His brief moment of victory was very hard to recall. But the shame he felt lying face down in his own blood and vomit was never far away.
Life had taught him that if happiness was a butterfly and hard to catch, pain was an anvil and hard to avoid.
He spent the last night before every evaluation lying in bed staring into the dark, sure that it was raining anvils.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Don Blake waved to Crys and Rachel in the parking lot, and then led them back to the office. Rachel drove home. Crys developed her pictures in the darkroom. Don typed out an investigation report to Lou Carlson. When the printer spit out a copy, he went over the conclusions and recommendations.
(1) AVENUES FOR FURTHER INVESTIGATION:
(a) Tally’s own adultery to put wife on even footing with the court.
(b) Track flow of money to pay for mistress. Search for hidden assets. Possible perjury for falsehoods under oath in interrogatories.
(c) Fraud in misuse of team benefits, e.g. tickets and hotel room for mistress, not wife.
(d) Drugs? Gambling? More information needed. Tip of the iceberg?
(2) SUGGESTED ACTION PLANS:
(a) Depose the Fifth Down Club. Pop this zit and see what comes oozing out.
(b) Interview bartenders and motel staff in area around club’s facilities.
(c) Review last year’s schedule. Check for airline tickets and hotel reservations.
(d) Get copy of club’s reimbursement guidelines for spouses and others.
(e) Go to training camp. Circulate descriptions of Tully and Ames (very distinctive couple) in motels and bars in town.
(f) Repeat in Atlantic City. Especially comedy clubs.
(g) Cross-reference expenditures with Sid Bowman’s reconstruction of income and disbursements.
(h) Pursue Tiffany Ames as information source while she’s still vulnerable. If she moves the child out to family, she’ll seal over.
Blake signed the report and flipped to the fax number that Lou Carlson had given him. It was the same as the home number. A bad sign. No place to get away from work. That’s what Blake’s wife said killed their marriage. He’d get out of bed to answer the phone but he wouldn’t put the phone down to get into bed. She was right. This time he’d found a girl who’d race him to the phone. Maybe that was an improvement. He fed the report into the tray, dialed the number and waited for a connection. He listened to the paper feed, wondering what he was interrupting on the other end.
Crys came in as the paper began to feed through the fax. She sat on the end of the desk and handed the photos to Don. He flipped them around and scanned them.
“Good. Go ahead and put them in the file.” He handed them back to her.
She looked at him, then raised her eyebrows and said, “And? That’s it? There’s nothing else you want to tell me?”
Blake laughed. “No, Crys, there’s nothing else to tell you. Here’s my report. I think it covers everything. Read it.”
She took it from the paper tray and skimmed it.
“That’s polite. Subject was in a state of partial undress. The presence of her child in the next room was no deterrent. Investigator used this opportunity to break cover and confront subject.”
“What do you want to know, Crys?”
“You know what I want to know.”
“This is crazy. Nothing happened. You want to know if I would have slept with her, right?”
Crys nodded, grateful that he hadn’t forced her to ask. Now if he’d only give her the right answer.
“All right. If I’d had to and there was no way out, yes, I would have. Would I have enjoyed it? To the best of my ability. Would I seek her out on my own? Not on a bet. You do what you have to do to get the job done. I looked for a way out and found one. I owe Lou Carlson a big favor. I’m paying it off. If sleeping with Tiffany Ames would get me out from under sooner, then I’d do it. Okay, can we let this one go?”
Crys had listened to Don’s answer without drawing a breath. He had told her that ugly truths were better than pretty lies, and that she could count on him for ugly truths. This time he was as good as his word.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Lou Carlson and Serena Tully met with Don Blake in the courthouse cafeteria. After making introductions, they sipped coffee while Blake expanded on his written report.
“I don’t know how to bring this up tactfully, Ms. Tully, but your husband seems to have had a number of extramarital affairs.”
Blake stopped and waited to see what her reaction was going to be.
She turned to look at Lou Carlson. When she smiled wistfully, he replied, “That’s good news, Don. Get them off the moral high ground. I don’t think Ms. Tully is going to be surprised by anything you tell her. You may as well give it to her all at once.”
“Okay. Your husband seems to have been part of a group called the Fifth Down Club. In that group, the chief activities were partying with football groupies, drinking and drugs. Seems that when he said he was out at the clubhouse watching films, or in the hotel before and after games, he was really out with these guys. The women he took up with were part of this crowd. I guess he’d pair off with one until the relationship would run its course and she’d be replaced. We’ve identified the most recent one.”
Serena was twisting her wedding ring, which she realized she hadn’t taken off yet. “This woman, what does she look like?”
Blake drummed his fingers on the manila envelope of photographs. “Are you sure you want to know? I don’t think it’s going to do anyone any good to go over the gory details.”
Serena snapped at him, “Are those pictures of her in there? May I see them? I presume you both know what she looks like. I’d like to see for myself. May I?”
She held her hand out. Blake pushed the packet over to her. She undid the catch with trembling fingers. Blake noticed and suggested she might want to take them to the bathroom.
“No, Mr. Blake, I’ll be fine. May as well see what Tom’s been up to with his free time.”
She pulled the photos out and stared at the blow-ups of Tiffany Ames. “She’s cute in a Barbie doll kind of way.” Serena studied the photographs. Abruptly, she slid them back into the envelope. “Too much make-up though,” she said and left the photos in front of her.
“Your husband was taking this woman to away games. He was seeing her at training camp. He was buying her expensive gifts.”
Serena checked to make sure her hands weren’t giving her away. Assured that she looked composed, she smiled at Don Blake, who went on sure that she was anything but.
“I think we have to lean on the Ames woman. Get her to sign an affidavit now. A lot easier and faster than building a paper case, Lou.”
“I agree. Do you think she’ll pull the kid out of school?”
“Yeah. If she calms down and thinks it through. She’ll figure that after some period of time our interest in Tully will pass and so will her usefulness. She’ll retrieve the kid and go on like nothing happened. She’s scared now.”
“Is she afraid of you, Don?”
“Probably. When sh
e isn’t pissed.”
“Why don’t you go shake her up again? Let’s get her to commit to an affidavit. In the meantime, we should pursue all these avenues in case she stonewalls us or flees. All your ideas are good ones. Go with them.”
“Excuse me,” Serena cut in. “I’ve seen that list. This has to be expensive. I don’t have any money, Mr. Blake. I don’t know how or when I could pay you for all this. Mr. Carlson is hoping to get his fee from my share of the house. I appreciate everything you’ve done so far, but I’ll be left with nothing.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m not going to send you a bill for my services. This is an old favor owed by me to Lou Carlson. Now, I’m squaring things.”
“Thank you, Mr. Blake. Seems I’m the lucky one, at least on this.”
“I want to keep this quiet for now, Don. I don’t want Tom Tully or Al Garfield to have the slightest idea we’re on to him. Let Sid Bowman prove there’s hidden assets first. Then we’ll go after him with the adultery, perjury on the interrogatories, maybe even fraud with the club. When we have it all in place, then I want to push this wall over on them. When the time is right.”
“Mrs. Tully, did your husband ever buy things for you or the kids, the house, anything, with money you couldn’t account for?”
“That’s a laugh. Tommy bitched about how little he made as a coach. When he played, he wasn’t a big star. And he wasn’t into saving money. We got married after he retired and he had to work. He hadn’t held on to any of the money he made as a player. No, there wasn’t any unaccounted-for money flying around our house. What Tom made, we spent. The only nice gift Tom got me was a very expensive watch, which I just had to sell. But he always made a big deal about what a great price he got on it. How he didn’t pay close to what it was worth.”
“Well if anything comes …”
“Wait a minute. There was something odd. When we first met Dr. Reece and Tom had to pay him for the evaluation, you know the retainer, he handed him an envelope with the whole thing in cash. All eight thousand dollars. I was curious about why he went back into the office to pay him, so when they went into the testing room I pushed the office door open and peeked in. I saw the stack on his desk.”
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