“This date,” he said warily. “How far did things get?”

“Nothing. Well, she kissed me once. Briefly.”

“Okay, I don’t need all the details. Could be worse, I suppose. What was it that your pretty friend told you?”

I sighed and tried to look as apologetic as I could. Bad as I felt, I somehow felt worse for Joe that he had been landed with me. Those nights out with my father in Las Vegas had cost him dearly.

“I’m afraid I can’t say because it’s covered by doctor-patient privilege. It’s not Anna and it’s not Harry. I know that he’s waived privilege,” I said hurriedly. “It’s another one of my patients.”

Joe closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. He remained in that posture for a full minute while I waited sheepishly. Then something happened that surprised me-his shoulders started shaking and I saw that he was laughing.

“I’ll say this, Ben,” he said when he stopped. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a client like you. No offense, but I’m kind of hoping I never do again. You’ve done all this stuff that I can hardly credit and I’m sure a judge wouldn’t. Amazingly, while you’re doing it, you dig up new evidence and now you won’t tell me what it is.”

“I can’t,” I said. “It would be malpractice.”

“Right,” he said, deadpan. “Like those malpractice charges you’ll face when you’re subpoenaed to testify at Shapiro’s trial by Baer and your boss decides she’s not going to protect you. That sort of malpractice?”

“Is that what Baer said he’d do?” I said dumbly.

“Pretty much. I’m your attorney, although just at the moment I’m wondering why, so let me lay out the options as simply as I can. Either you do what Baer wants, which is to tell him about what happened at the hospital and out there at Shapiro’s house, or he’s not only going to make you testify at the trial, but he’s going to make you look as bad as you looked just now in front of the grand jury. Meanwhile, the only way you’ll keep your job is if you tell Baer to take a hike. It’s your choice.”

He looked at me almost fondly as he said it, as if both exasperated and impressed by how I’d landed in such a mess. That must have taken some doing, his expression seemed to say. His mood was lighter, as if he’d progressed beyond despair into acceptance that his client was indefensible.

“As my lawyer, what would you advise?” I said.

“My advice?” Joe said. “Find another lawyer.”

19

Joe’s mood must have been infectious because I slept soundly, and when I woke in the morning, my subconscious had already decided for me. I was tired of keeping secrets, of covering things up out of duty and cowardice. I’d made a mistake with Harry, one that might cost me my job, but I wasn’t prepared to shield him any longer, and nor would I protect Duncan. I’d go to Baer and tell him everything-the gun Nora had brought to the ER, the pressure Duncan had put on me, and what Harry had said to me on the beach. I’d tell him that Harry was a murderer.

As I stepped from the shower I felt relieved, as if a burden that I’d been carrying for weeks had just been lifted. My job was to keep people’s secrets, but Harry had used it against me and I wouldn’t let him anymore. I didn’t know why he’d killed Greene, but that was Baer’s job to discover, not mine. I’ll be a whistle-blower, I thought, and that sounded better than being a fraud. I hummed cheerfully over breakfast, and when it was done, I picked up the phone to make some appointments.

My first stop was the Shapiros’ apartment, and as I rode in the elevator, I wondered if Anna was going to be there. I don’t care, I thought. She’s Harry’s servant and she can suffer the consequences. When I arrived at the thirty-seventh floor, I composed my face for her-mimicking the glare she’d worn when I’d last seen her-but I softened my expression as the door opened on Nora. This was going to be the hardest meeting. I no longer cared about offending Harry, but I still felt for her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, just tried to care for her husband, and she wasn’t going to like what I was about to say.

“Anna’s out at the house cleaning up, so it’s just me here. Come through,” she said, smiling. “Can I get you something?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” I said briskly.

We walked to her study. It was a sunny morning and I caught a glimpse of Central Park through a window, the soft green blanket of the solid tops of trees stretching toward Harlem, with the line of Fifth Avenue on the far side. It was like sitting in an aircraft and seeing the clouds below-that lofty, detached sensation.

“There’s something I want to ask,” I said as we sat. “Steven Baer, the prosecutor in your husband’s case, called me to testify before a grand jury yesterday. He asked me some difficult questions. He knew a lot about my treatment of Mr. Shapiro after I discharged him-that I’d been flown to East Hampton after visiting my father.”

Nora looked puzzled. “There wasn’t anything wrong with that, was there? I wanted to help.”

“Of course, and I’m grateful, but it doesn’t look good now. You didn’t tell the detectives about it, did you?”

Her mouth opened in shock. If she had been the informant, she was doing as good a job of concealing the truth as Lauren.

“Absolutely not. That would be a terrible thing to do. You believe me, don’t you?” she said, holding a hand to her mouth.

I nodded. “I’m sorry. I needed to be sure.”

I believed her. It wasn’t merely that she seemed innocent. It wouldn’t be good for Harry’s defense to make it look as if he’d manipulated me into letting him out of Episcopal in order to murder Greene. Their lawyer would have briefed her not to volunteer information, just as Joe had briefed me. Nora had done all she could to fulfill Harry’s wishes and had landed me in trouble, but she’d had no reason to betray me.

“Did you speak to Sarah?” Nora said. “Will she help?”

She looked at me eagerly, and I was touched that she cared. She was already embroiled in a desperate effort to save Harry from the disasters into which he’d arrogantly plunged himself, from the failure of his bank to Greene’s death. I wanted to reassure her, but I’d be helping her husband out if I did.

“I don’t think that will make any difference now. I’m likely to lose my license no matter what she does.”

“No!” Nora exclaimed, placing her hand on mine as she’d done in the psych ER at our first meeting. “That’s terrible. After everything you did for Harry, it would be so wrong for you to suffer.”

“Would it?” I said. “I let your husband go and he murdered Mr. Greene. I’d have said I didn’t do my job.”

The word murderedseemed to strike Nora like a body blow. She leaned forward in her chair and I saw the distress in her eyes as she stared at me. It was as if I’d spoken in a foreign tongue and she was struggling to understand.

“How can you say that?” she cried. “You treated him. You saw the state he was in. Harry didn’t murder Marcus. He didn’t know what he was doing.”

I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on my legs with my hands clasped. I didn’t want to distress her further, but I believed she ought to listen for her own good. There were things I couldn’t tell her about Harry’s behavior-Lauren was now my patient-but I wouldn’t lie about what I thought of him. If Harry went to jail for murder, I didn’t want Nora to pine for the rest of her life.

“Mrs. Shapiro,” I said slowly, “everything I’ve learned since the killing has convinced me I misdiagnosed him. I don’t believe he was ever in danger of suicide. He’d always meant to kill Mr. Greene. That’s why he had the gun.”

“No. No. I don’t believe that,” she said, standing and gripping her right elbow with her left hand. “I’ll never believe that. You’re wrong, Doctor. I thought that you understood Harry, but you don’t. You never will.”