coverage.”
“Much as I like her, she’s got problems,
right? The head in the oven, this paranoid talk about someone trying to kill
her. And those hang-up calls. I feel like a bum saying this, but now that I
know she’s been wanting to get close to me, I’d be an idiot not to wonder if
she made them up to get attention. Even the way she tried to kill herself has a
touch of that, doesn’t it? Gas, with the drapes open?”
He gulped down the rest of his beer and
looked at me.
“Yes, there is a hysterical quality to
it,” I said. “But let’s be charitable and assume that even if she is making
things up it’s out of neediness rather than manipulation. That still doesn’t
eliminate the possibility that something traumatized her that summer. Don’t
forget, she’s not trumpeting herself as a victim or trying to make anything out
of the dream. On the contrary, she tends to minimize things, just as she did
with the hang-ups. She’s an ostrich, Milo, blocking out that entire summer. My
gut tells me something happened when she was four and it’s stuck down in
her unconscious. Something that relates—directly or indirectly—to Lowell. She’s
not the only one with strong feelings about him. The half brother called him a
total sonofabitch. He’s in the real estate business and his big
fantasy’s foreclosing on Dad’s land. Maybe that summer was bad for all the
Lowell kids.”
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s say we do somehow
get to the bottom of it, find out Daddy did do something terrible
twenty-one years ago. And let’s assume Lucy gets herself to a point where she
can deal with it. Then what? Bring the bastard to the bar of justice? You know
what uncorroborated memories are worth in court. And the fact that it came out
in therapy makes it even weaker. Nowadays prosecutors assume anything retrieved
in a shrink’s office is bullshit till proven otherwise. Too many cases thrown
out of court, too much pop-psych crap, satanic bullshit—if you feel you’ve been abused, you have been.”
“Baby-with-the-bathwater,” I said, “just
like when the courts tossed out hypnotic evidence. But you know as well as I do
hypnosis does help some witnesses remember facts. And plenty of patients
do retrieve valid memories during therapy. I’ve seen dozens of corroborations.
The key is never to plant anything in a patient’s head and never to lead. Stay
skeptical as hell but keep it to yourself, and if you end up with something,
check it out to the max.”
“I know, I know, I’m just saying it’s an
uphill battle.”
“Look, even if it never goes anywhere
legally, I think, at some point, knowing what really happened—or didn’t—will
help her.”
“What if we learn Daddy did something,
can’t touch him legally, and the bastard gets away with it? What does that do to her psyche?”
“So what do you suggest, drop it?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, just
creating problems to keep your mind active.”
“What a pal,” I said. “Anyway, it’s
probably theoretical. After the way the last session went, I doubt Lucy’ll want
to see me. Maybe she’ll hook up with Embrey—maybe seeing a woman will make it
easier. Whoever her therapist turns out to be, they’ll need to know what’s
going on.”
“Think they’ll keep her in past the
seventy-two?”
“Not unless she really falls apart. It’s
what’ll happen when she gets out that worries me.”
Neither of us spoke for a while. I thought
of all the possibilities we’d just raised. Wondered if Lucy would connect with
Embrey. I found myself hoping so.
“What?” he said.
“That summer,” I said. “At least we could
try to narrow things down by finding out if any dark-haired girls were reported
raped or murdered or missing in Topanga that summer. If they were, we’ve got
possible corroboration. If not, that will also define the focus of Lucy’s
therapy. Either way, she doesn’t need to be told until the time’s right.”
“Narrow things,
“Much as I like her, she’s got problems,
right? The head in the oven, this paranoid talk about someone trying to kill
her. And those hang-up calls. I feel like a bum saying this, but now that I
know she’s been wanting to get close to me, I’d be an idiot not to wonder if
she made them up to get attention. Even the way she tried to kill herself has a
touch of that, doesn’t it? Gas, with the drapes open?”
He gulped down the rest of his beer and
looked at me.
“Yes, there is a hysterical quality to
it,” I said. “But let’s be charitable and assume that even if she is making
things up it’s out of neediness rather than manipulation. That still doesn’t
eliminate the possibility that something traumatized her that summer. Don’t
forget, she’s not trumpeting herself as a victim or trying to make anything out
of the dream. On the contrary, she tends to minimize things, just as she did
with the hang-ups. She’s an ostrich, Milo, blocking out that entire summer. My
gut tells me something happened when she was four and it’s stuck down in
her unconscious. Something that relates—directly or indirectly—to Lowell. She’s
not the only one with strong feelings about him. The half brother called him a
total sonofabitch. He’s in the real estate business and his big
fantasy’s foreclosing on Dad’s land. Maybe that summer was bad for all the
Lowell kids.”
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s say we do somehow
get to the bottom of it, find out Daddy did do something terrible
twenty-one years ago. And let’s assume Lucy gets herself to a point where she
can deal with it. Then what? Bring the bastard to the bar of justice? You know
what uncorroborated memories are worth in court. And the fact that it came out
in therapy makes it even weaker. Nowadays prosecutors assume anything retrieved
in a shrink’s office is bullshit till proven otherwise. Too many cases thrown
out of court, too much pop-psych crap, satanic bullshit—if you feel you’ve been abused, you have been.”
“Baby-with-the-bathwater,” I said, “just
like when the courts tossed out hypnotic evidence. But you know as well as I do
hypnosis does help some witnesses remember facts. And plenty of patients
do retrieve valid memories during therapy. I’ve seen dozens of corroborations.
The key is never to plant anything in a patient’s head and never to lead. Stay
skeptical as hell but keep it to yourself, and if you end up with something,
check it out to the max.”
“I know, I know, I’m just saying it’s an
uphill battle.”
“Look, even if it never goes anywhere
legally, I think, at some point, knowing what really happened—or didn’t—will
help her.”
“What if we learn Daddy did something,
can’t touch him legally, and the bastard gets away with it? What does that do to her psyche?”
“So what do you suggest, drop it?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, just
creating problems to keep your mind active.”
“What a pal,” I said. “Anyway, it’s
probably theoretical. After the way the last session went, I doubt Lucy’ll want
to see me. Maybe she’ll hook up with Embrey—maybe seeing a woman will make it
easier. Whoever her therapist turns out to be, they’ll need to know what’s
going on.”
“Think they’ll keep her in past the
seventy-two?”
“Not unless she really falls apart. It’s
what’ll happen when she gets out that worries me.”
Neither of us spoke for a while. I thought
of all the possibilities we’d just raised. Wondered if Lucy would connect with
Embrey. I found myself hoping so.
“What?” he said.
“That summer,” I said. “At least we could
try to narrow things down by finding out if any dark-haired girls were reported
raped or murdered or missing in Topanga that summer. If they were, we’ve got
possible corroboration. If not, that will also define the focus of Lucy’s
therapy. Either way, she doesn’t need to be told until the time’s right.”
“Narrow things,
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