Lassiter 07 - Flesh and Bones by Levine, Paul (best fiction books to read TXT) 📗

Dr. Schein is part of the recovered-memory movement, which relies on feelings and images and theories that can neither be proved nor disproved. If it feels real, it must be real. The memories must be there if we can only dig them up. But doesn't it make more sense that traumatic memories are clearer, more detailed, and longer-lasting than any others?"

"Yeah, I would have thought so, but I'm not a doctor."

She came back to her desk and sat down. "How long did it take Schein to uncover these alleged memories?"

I smiled ruefully as I imagined Abe Socolow asking the same question. "Several months. He wasn't getting anywhere until he started the hypnosis."

She slammed a hand onto her desk. "Of course. Hypnosis simply enhanced her suggestibility. In fact, the more easily someone is hypnotized, the more amenable to suggestion and manipulation they are." The doctor thumbed through Schein's medical records. "Did he have her on any medication?"

"Yeah. Chrissy was ingesting enough drugs to make Cheech think he was Chong."

She came to a page and stopped. "Here it is. Xanax, Ativan, Mellaril, Prozac, Desyrel, Restoril, Darvocet, and lithium. Anything on her own? Was she smoking pot, dropping acid?"

"She says not. Charlie had a drug screen done and it didn't turn up anything."

"Let me see it."

I found the report and handed it to her.

"She had traces of barbiturates."

"I know. The lab says they're from the sedatives."

"Not this mix. She's got 3-hydroxyamobarbital, N-glucosylamobarbital, and 3-carboxyamobarbital."

"Yeah, so what?"

"It all adds up to sodium amytal. It releases inhibitions, makes people more voluble. It's often used in hypnosis therapy. Schein would probably tell you it's a truth serum. I think it's just as likely to warp memory."

"Why didn't Schein put it in his records?" I asked.

She threw up her hands. "You're the lawyer. You figure it out."

"So, Millie, what are you saying? Schein secretly drugged Chrissy, then implanted memories of abuse that never happened?"

"Are you asking what I can testify to under oath?"

"Use the legal standard. What can you say to a reasonable degree of medical certainty?"

She shrugged. "Who the hell knows? Should I tell you what I suspect?"

"I think I know that, Millie."

"Look, memory fades with time, making it more susceptible to postevent information."

"Like a therapist's suggestions."

"Exactly." She sat down on a corner of the desk. "How will you deal with the tapes in court?"

"I don't know. Schein's questions weren't so much leading as 'pushing.' Chrissy denied being raped. Then the recorder was turned off. When it came back on, she remembered."

Millie Santiago was shaking her head.

I kept talking. "We'll have to produce the tapes, and Socolow will have a field day. He'll probably move to strike all the testimony about the abuse, and if that fails, he'll be happy to get the tapes in front of the jury."

"Heads you lose, tails you lose. Dr. Schein hurts you as much as he helps you."

Now it was my turn to stand and pace. "The problem is, I need Schein. I have no defense to a murder one charge except what he gave me."

"I'm sorry," Dr. Santiago said. "I didn't mean to clobber you like this."

"No. That's all right. I have to know the truth."

"Maybe another therapist would agree with Schein. I could recommend a couple if you want to try them."

"You mean someone who'll say what I want?"

"That's the way the game is played, isn't it?"

"I guess. I had a blood-spatter expert on the stand in a case not long ago. The state attorney is cross-examining, trying to be tough. He asks, 'Did Mr. Lassiter pay you to lie for him?' And the witness says, 'No, he doesn't have that kind of money.' "

"A little cynical, are we, Jake?"

"Yeah. You know the acronym for an expert?"

"Tell me."

"Witness Having Other Reasonable Explanation."

"Don't get hostile, Jake, or I'll have to suggest therapy."

"Sorry. It happens whenever I have a woman about to take a fall."

"A woman?"

"Did I say 'woman'? I meant 'client.' "

Her eyes twinkled at me. "Uh-huh."

"Hey, Millie, cut me a break."

"You left something out of the story, didn't you, Jake?"

The drone of the air conditioning was the only sound in the room. "Yeah, I left something out."

"You want some free advice?"

"Sure."

"Pull back. Don't get emotionally involved. There's only pain where you're headed."

"I know. I've been there before."

She cocked her head and studied me. "You want to talk about it? No charge."

An image flashed by, Susan Corrigan facedown in a swimming pool. "I've let someone down before."

"Someone?"

"A woman. I thought I could help her, but I botched it." Another image, Lila Summers looking out to sea, then the flash of an explosion, the boat tearing itself apart. "Maybe we can talk sometime."

"Anytime you say. If you're Doc Riggs's friend, mi casa es su casa."

I gathered my briefcase and stood up. "Thanks, Millie. Send me a bill."

"Don't worry. I will." She walked me to the door. "Oh, Jake, one more thing."

I turned around. "Yeah?"

"I'm not saying that memories can't be repressed and then later recovered. I can't say it's impossible. But suggestions can implant phantom memories that look like they're repressed, or they can shape real memories into something else."

"Dammit, Millie! What are you saying? What did Schein do?"

Her look was filled with regret, as if she'd like to help me but didn't know how. "Maybe Schein implanted your client's memories of abuse."

"Yeah, I already figured that out."

"But maybe he didn't."

"Meaning what?"

"Maybe she did it, Jake. Maybe she concocted these memories to fool her shrink. And to fool you, too."

13

Water Wars

Harrison Baker was yelling over the roar of the airplane engine, but I couldn't hear a thing. The old man tried again, then mouthed a word I couldn't quite pick up. He pointed to the cloudless sky above a cypress hammock and I saw the big black birds.

"Buzzards," he was saying.

Behind us, Jimmy Tiger eased back on the throttle and the airboat glided to a stop about two hundred yards from the higher ground. Jimmy's black hair was tied back in a ponytail, his eyes hidden