Every Fifteen Minutes (39 page)

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Authors: Lisa Scottoline

BOOK: Every Fifteen Minutes
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Captain Newmire pursed his lips, which were thin. He had a five o'clock shadow, salted with whitish hairs. “Let's begin with what you
can
tell me. Max is your patient, correct?”

“Yes, although I revealed that to Detective Rhoades only because I'm permitted to reveal that when a patient is at risk for suicide. I divulged that information so they could go and find him, since he had been missing.” Eric paused. “Where is Max now?”

Captain Newmire hesitated. “In custody.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“I don't know if anyone told you, but I am concerned about his mental state. There's a substantial risk he might harm himself. He needs to be on suicide watch.”

“I got the message, thanks.”

“So you're watching him?”

“Yes.”

Somehow Eric didn't feel relieved. Captain Newmire said the right words, but his tone remained brusque and cool, unlike the hotter-headed Detective Rhoades, who now sat quietly, his meaty hands folded in front of him. “Have you questioned Max yet?”

“No.”

“Does he have a lawyer?” Eric felt a sharp kick to his right leg under the table, evidently from Paul, trying to shut him up.

“Not to my knowlegde, though his mother is trying to find him one.”

Captain Newmire eyed him.

“What about a psychiatrist?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because practicalities prevent me from counseling him right now, and he needs psychiatric help. I can give you some numbers of my colleagues in private practice. You need to get him some help.”

“Oh, we do, do we?” Captain Newmire's tone curdled, but Eric wasn't surprised.

“Yes, you do. You have legal obligations to care for those in police custody. If he were bleeding from a wound, you'd get him a physician. He's in obvious emotional distress, so he needs a psychiatrist.” Eric felt Paul kick him under the table again.

“Let's move on.” Captain Newmire cleared his throat. “Now, you reported Max missing after he telephoned you on Tuesday night, is that correct?”

“Yes, that's true.”

“What is your relationship to the deceased girl, Ren
é
e Bevilacqua?”

“I had no relationship to her. I didn't know her.”

“But you met her at her place of business, isn't that correct?”

“Yes, that is true.”

“You can tell me that because it doesn't involve Max or your treatment of him, is that correct?”

“Yes, you just asked me a question about my whereabouts and I answered it.”

“Why were you at the frozen yogurt shop Tuesday night, speaking with Ms. Bevilacqua?”

“I can't tell you that.”

Captain Newmire lifted a graying eyebrow. “You know, I think of myself as a logical man. Methodical. It drives my wife nuts. And if you can't tell me why you were at the yogurt shop, then it's a logical conclusion that the reason involves Max Jakubowski. Now, we have learned that Max Jakubowski was Ren
é
e Bevilacqua's SAT tutor at PerfectScore. Your being there at the shop was because of Max Jakubowski, correct?”

Eric started to answer, then stopped himself. “I can't answer that. I can't confirm or deny that.”

“Did Max introduce you to her?”

“I can't answer that.”

“Did you introduce Max to Ren
é
e?”

“No.”

“Who knew her first?”

“I didn't know her.”

“Except for the night you went to the yogurt shop, for a reason you won't explain.”

Paul sighed theatrically. “Captain, Dr. Parrish has been consistent on that confidentiality issue, and I respect that, as should you. Without waiving my attorney-client privilege, I'll volunteer that he hasn't told me that either.”

Captain Newmire faced Eric. “Were you involved with the murder of Ren
é
e Bevilacqua?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Did you conspire with Max Jakubowski to murder Ren
é
e Bevilacqua?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Did you ever suggest to Max that he murder Ren
é
e Bevilacqua?”

“No, of course not.”

“Were you engaged in a romantic relationship with Ren
é
e?”

“Of course not.”

“Was Max?”

“I can't answer that.”

“Do you know why Max would be in possession of Ren
é
e Bevilacqua's cell phone?”

“I can't answer that.” Eric tried not to let his shock show. They must have found Ren
é
e's phone in Max's bedroom. He doubted that they'd told Marie, or she would have told him.

“Did there come a time during your counseling with Max that you became afraid he would murder Ren
é
e?”

“I can't answer that question.” Eric tried to keep his expression impassive, betraying none of the pain the question evoked in him.

“Dr. Parrish, if you think that a patient is homicidal or suicidal, you have a duty to warn the intended victim and the police, don't you?”

“Yes, I do.” Eric remained stoic.

“Yet tonight, you told Lieutenant Jana that you were concerned that Max was trying to commit suicide by police, didn't you?”

“Yes, I did.” Eric swallowed hard.

“If you thought Max was suicidal, why didn't you admit him to Havemeyer General?”

“I can't answer that question.” Eric would be asking himself that same question for the rest of his life.

“Did you think Max was suicidal tonight?”

“Yes, and you didn't have to be a trained psychiatrist to know that. It was common sense.” Eric was trying to rely less on the privilege. “When the lieutnant told me what Max had threatened on the phone, it was clear the threat didn't make sense. Max intended only to bring harm to himself, not anybody else. The fact that he had a fake bomb and no bullets proves as much.”

“Your attorney said that you risked your life tonight. Did you believe you were risking your life when you ran into the mall?”

“Yes, but I wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking I had to get Max out before he got hurt. I knew if I could talk to him, I could convince him.”

“And you knew that how?”

“I'm not going to elaborate because it would compromise my confidentiality.” Eric glanced at the clock on the wall, which read 10:55. He wondered where Max was in the station house, knowing he'd be counting off to his tapping and colors ritual.

“Dr. Parrish, earlier in this interview, you spoke very strongly on Max's behalf, asking questions about his welfare and whereabouts, and you breached a police barricade to save his life. It sounds as if you have a personal relationship to him.”

“No, I have a professional relationship to him.”

“But Max called you on your personal cell phone after his grandmother died, isn't that correct? That's not confidential, because you told it to the Radnor Police.”

“Yes, Max did do that.”

“Does he call you frequently on your cell phone?”

“I can't answer that.” Eric remembered the police had his cell phone, so they had undoubtedly checked his phone logs. They were trying to catch him in a lie.

“Do other patients call you on your cell?”

“Yes, my private ones do, in emergencies.”

“Is your relationship with Max intimate?”

Paul sighed. “God. Really?”

“Of course not,” Eric snapped.

Captain Newmire blinked. “You went to Max's house and spoke with his mother about him, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Is that a practice of yours, with your private patients?”

“No.”

“Have you ever done that with any patient, previously?”

“No.” Eric had to admit it.

“It's also true that you spent some time in his bedroom, isn't that correct?”

Eric hesitated. The fact wasn't properly within the privilege. His boundary violations were coming back to haunt him. “Yes, that's true.”

“Why did you do that?”

“That I can't answer.”

“Was it the first time you had been in Max's bedroom?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Eric answered, disliking the implication.

“Did you see Max in your private home, for his counseling session?”

“Yes, in my home office.”

“Was he in any other room of your house, in addition to your home office?”

“No.”

“Has he been in your bedroom?”

“No.” Eric remembered the fingerprint dust he had seen on the first floor of his house. He hadn't even had a chance to go upstairs and see if it was on the second floor.

“Did you ever go anywhere with Max? Whether in his car or yours?”

“No.” Eric imagined that the police had already dusted inside his car. He wondered when he'd get it back.

“Do you believe you have an unusual amount of influence over Max?”

“No.”

“Even given the events of this evening?” Captain Newmire paused. “You were able to go into that mall and bring him out in suprisingly short order.”

Eric sensed he was moving into dangerous ground. “Do you have a question?”

“As a psychiatrist, aren't you trained in ways to influence your patients?”

“No, that misunderstands the therapeutic process. We help them to influence themselves.”

“Doesn't that involve, for want of a better word, manipulating them?”

“No, not at all.”

“Funny, because you seem to manipulate Max.”

“No, I don't.”

Paul interjected, again, “Is that a question?”

Captain Newmire cocked his head. “We have to understand what's going on here, and what is the extent and nature of the relationship between Dr. Parrish and Max. Dr. Parrish won't explain to us what the relationship is, so we're left to draw some logical conclusions. One is that Dr. Parrish has a great deal of influence over Max, so much so that he could single-handedly end a standoff and hostage situation. That corroborates my theory about what kind of control, influence, or manipulation that Dr. Parrish exerts over this young boy, whose father is out of the picture. There is more than ample evidence to infer that Dr. Parrish exerts, shall we say, a Svengali-like influence over this boy.”

“That's ridiculous!” Paul snorted.

“That's not true,” Eric added.

“Because we aren't getting any information from Dr. Parrish, we can't agree that it's ridiculous. We have to investigate because a girl is dead, and it is not inconsistent with these facts that Max committed that murder at Dr. Parrish's bidding.”

“Also absurd,” Paul snapped.

Captain Newmire continued coolly, “Nor is it inconsistent with those facts that Max entered the mall tonight with his fake bomb and gun, staged a hoax that he was going to kill people and blow up the mall, also at Dr. Parrish's bidding.”

“What?” Eric blurted out, flabbergasted. “Why would I want him to do that? Why would I want kids taken hostage? Or the mall blown up?”

“To make yourself look good.”

“What, how?” Eric felt a tingle of fear. He hadn't seen this coming and he guessed Paul hadn't either. The cops were assigning him primary responsibility and painting Max as his puppet. Eric didn't know how to defend himself without putting Max on the hook or breaching his privilege.

Paul waved Eric into silence. “Captain, what are you saying? Why would Dr. Parrish do something so heinous? Order kids taken
hostage
?”

Captain Newmire faced Paul. “Dr. Parrish was taken in for questioning today, in connection with the murder of Ren
é
e Bevilacqua. Perhaps he used Max Jakubowski to make himself look like a hero, less like a murder suspect.” Captain Newmire swiveled his head around to Eric. “Did you send Max into the mall with a fake bomb and old weapon? Was it your plan he was following?”

“No, wait, are you saying I knew it was a hoax?”

“Yes, it certainly is possible, and we're not left with any other logical inferences, because you won't provide us any information that would enlighten us and convince—”

“This is blackmail!” Paul interrupted, his disgust undisguised.

Captain Newmire ignored him, glaring at Eric. “In addition, we've investigated and we have learned that you were placed on indefinite suspension at the hospital.”

Paul threw up his hands. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Eric felt instantly mortified, saying nothing.

Captain Newmire ignored Paul again. “Hospital officials tell us that the reason for their action was confidential, but perhaps that was part of your motivation. It's not unreasonable that you would stage a hoax to rehabilitate your reputation with the hospital and get reinstated. Did you send Max into the mall to do your bidding? Then run in to save the day?”

“Of course not!” Eric shot back.

“Okay, we're done!” Paul interjected, pushing his chair away from the table. “Captain Newmire, you're arguing with my client, despite the fact that he is cooperating with you to the fullest extent possible. He's not answering any more questions about your inane and wild theories.” Paul turned to Eric. “Please, not another word, Doctor. We're done here.”

Captain Newmire pursed his lips. “Then he's going back to his holding cell. We have enough to hold him and will do so.”

“What are you charging him with?”

“We'll have to discuss that with the district attorney.” Captain Newmire glanced at the assistant district attorney, who kept making rapid notes. “We'll let you know what the charges are as soon as possible, then he will be arraigned, unless he reconsiders his decision not to cooperate fully. Dr. Parrish has a choice to make and he can think about it in his cell.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

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