Santa Fe Rules by Stuart Woods Page B

become a cult figure in the community, drawing wealthy patients from all over the country, some of whom had taken up residence in Santa Fe to be near him. Given Shea’s charm and intelligence, this did not surprise the lawyer.
    Shea poured their coffee and settled into a chair opposite Eagle.
    It was much like the arrangement in his own study, Eagle reflected: cozy, friendly, and designed to draw out the visitor. “I want to talk with you about Wolf Willett, Mark,” he said. “I have his permission to do so; you can call him, if you like.”
    “That won’t be necessary, Ed. Wolf has already spoken to me about it.”
    “A little background: When did you first meet Wolf?”
    “About three years ago, shortly after he built his house here.”
    “Did he come to you at that time for treatment?”
    “No. We first met at a dinner party, and he called me some weeks later.”
    “What did he feel his problems were at the time?”
    “He initially came to me for help in stopping smoking, and we fixed that, but Wolf felt he had difficulty forming close relationships with other people—both men and women—although he seemed to be better with women than with men. He was also going through a midlife reassessment of his existence: Did his work mean anything? Did he deserve his success? Was there any reason why anyone should love him? His concerns were typical of an intelligent, reflective, rather decent middle-aged man,and lacking a full relationship with a woman, he was without the support that a good marriage can bring. He needed some reinforcement.”
    “Is that what a psychiatrist does? Reinforce?”
    Shea smiled. “There are nearly as many opinions about what a therapist’s role is as there are psychiatrists. Many regard themselves as objective observers who, merely by listening to their patients, offer them a means of sorting themselves out. I do that with some patients, but on the whole, I lean toward a more activist view.”
    “What role did you take with Wolf?”
    “I’m beginning to think this is more an examination of my technique than a conversation about Wolf.”
    “I’m sorry, but it’s important for me to know his mind as well as a lawyer can, and it would be helpful if I understood how you worked with him.”
    “Wolf came to me a very self-sufficient man who had the dual burden of running a business and propping up a rather…ah, undisciplined partner. There were times when he felt inadequate to the job—especially the second role—and one of the things he needed from me was someone to tell him that he was all right, that he was doing a good job. I offered him that support. He deserved it.”
    “What other sorts of support did you offer him?”
    “Mainly someone to talk with openly. I regarded Wolf then as a stable, self-aware human being who was coping well. He just didn’t seem to be enjoying his life enough. I found him relatively free of neurosis, and—”
    “Relatively?”
    “None of us is free of neurosis; we all have our quirks.”
    “What were Wolf’s quirks?”
    “He was having some moderate difficulties with impotence; he wasn’t enjoying sex much.”

    “How did you treat his impotence?”
    “I prescribed a drug which is gaining a reputation for effectiveness. It’s based on an old herbal remedy, and it seems to dilate the blood vessels that carry blood to the penis and cause an erection.”
    “What do you mean, ‘seems’?”
    “The effect may be that of a placebo—who knows? As far as I’m concerned, an effective placebo is as good as a cure.”
    “Did it work for Wolf?”
    “Hard to say. He met Julia about that time, and she may have had a greater effect than the drug. He was capable again, anyway, and enjoying himself.”
    “What other quirks did he have?”
    “The only thing of any importance was something he wouldn’t talk about for a long time, something he really would talk about only after the murders.”
    “What was that?”
    “His first wife, who was