the room. Rapp stood and left the cell with Hurley. They closed the door and found Lewis pacing nervously. Nash was back from the house, shaved and in a dark blue suit, while Maslick was sitting behind the desk keeping an eye on the monitors.
Lewis held up a couple of fingers and said, “Two things… the first
… I don’t think you can ever allow him to go free. There is a chance that his illegalities were driven by a lack of judgment precipitated by the onset of alcoholism, but I think the odds of it are small. It’s more likely that in addition to suffering from narcissistic personality disorder, he is also a sociopath.”
“And this changes things… how?”
“He uses rules as a weapon. He gets extremely upset when he thinks anyone has acted inappropriately, or has broken the law, yet he sees nothing wrong when he decides to break those very same laws. I’m not even sure he’s aware of it. He’s so narcissistic, so in love with himself, that he thinks he’s privileged. Rules are for the commoner, not someone like him, who is destined to make a difference in the world.”
“I could have told you that,” Hurley said, “and I didn’t even go to med school.”
Lewis ignored Hurley and said, “The narcissistic sociopathic combination is extremely dangerous… almost impossible to treat and never in a situation with this much pressure. He will say and do whatever he needs to stay alive and then after you let him go, the first chance he gets he will bolt. He would turn to anyone who he thought had the power to take you down.”
“Your second point?” Rapp asked.
“Normally, I would never admit this, but considering the situation, I think it would be best.” Lewis hesitated, wrestling with how best to word his admission.
“Doc,” Rapp said, “I don’t have all day. Spit it out.”
Lewis cleared his throat and nervously announced, “I am Kathy O’Brien’s therapist.”
CHAPTER 18
RAPP was out of time. If he and Nash were to have any chance of making the powwow at Langley, they had to be on the road in the next few minutes, and even then they would have to drive at least eighty miles an hour to give themselves a chance. Normally, Rapp didn’t concern himself with getting to meetings on time, but this was not your average run-of-the-mill bureaucratic black hole of a meeting. Kennedy had made it very clear the president had requested the presence of both her senior counterterrorism operatives, and while Rapp really didn’t care much for politicians, he’d dealt with a few presidents over his career, and found them tolerable in the sense that they understood it wasn’t a bad idea to have a man like Rapp around to deal with some of the stickier situations that popped up.
“Mike and I have to go.” Rapp looked at Hurley and said, “I wanna know who he used to bug Doc’s office. I wanna know where the originals are and I wanna know how many copies he made. And I want to move on this ASAP.”
“My money’s on Max Johnson,” Hurley said.
“Yeah,” Rapp replied. He was thinking the same thing. Max Johnson had been the second in charge of Security at Langley until he retired a few years earlier. He now had his own consulting firm, which coincidentally did a lot of work for Langley. Rapp didn’t know him personally, but had heard a few things over the years that would lead him to believe the guy would have no problem stooping this low. “I want a list of everybody Adams has talked to about Kathy O’Brien.”
“I want those tapes handed over to me immediately, so I can destroy them,” Lewis said.
“Doc, I don’t like this any more than you do, but someone is going to have to listen to those tapes.” Rapp thought of Chuck O’Brien. It would kill him to know that Kathy’s private sessions with her therapist had been recorded.
“I think you can trust me, Mitch.”
“It has nothing to do with trust,” Rapp said impatiently. “I need to listen to them so I can assess the
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