“You think she was embarrassed?”
Van Dyne nodded.
Milo said, “Any idea why she sought treatment?”
“Not a clue. And believe me, I’ve thought about it.”
“She was well adjusted.”
“I thought she was.”
“You have doubts now?”
“I just assume she went for help because there was some kind of problem. It would have had to be something Flora viewed as serious. She wasn’t the type to talk for the sake of talking.”
“Something serious.”
“Serious in her mind.”
“You two meet here at the school?” said Milo.
“First day of school. I’d just transferred from the Valley, and Flora was beginning her probationary year. She got assigned to assist another teacher, but I was the one who ended up showing her the ropes. One thing led to the other.”
Milo pulled out his pad and scribbled. Keeping his eyes on the page, he said, “Any idea about who might’ve wanted to hurt Ms. Newsome?”
“Some nut,” said Van Dyne. “No rational person would do what I saw. It was… stomach-churning.”
“Did Flora ever talk about being afraid of anyone?” said Milo. “Someone harassing her, stalking her, that kind of thing?” Easing his big body closer to Van Dyne. Using Newsome’s first name.
“Never. But given the fact that she kept her therapy a secret, I can’t be sure she didn’t hide something else.”
“Did she ever seem scared or unduly nervous?”
“Being on probation was a little stressful. Who likes to be judged? But she was doing great, would definitely have passed. Teaching meant a lot to her, Lieutenant. She told me everything she’d done before that had just been a job, but this was her career.”
“What other jobs did she have?” I said.
“Office work, mostly. She did some filing for a law firm, worked at a parole office, then she managed the office of a software company that went bust. Evenings she studied for her credential.”
“The parole office downtown?” said Milo.
“She never said, only that she didn’t like it there. Too many weird characters coming in and out. I thought that might be important and mentioned it to the first detectives, but they didn’t seem to agree. Because Flora hadn’t worked there for a while.”
“Weird characters.”
“Her phrase,” said Van Dyne. “She didn’t want to discuss it.” He laced his hands across his chest, as if guarding his heart. “The thing you need to understand about Flora was she wasn’t the most talkative person. Not very outgoing or passionate on the surface.” He licked his lips. “She was very… traditional, more like someone from my mother’s generation.”
“Conservative.”
“Very. That’s why I was so surprised to find out she’d been in therapy.”
“And you have no idea,” said Milo, “about what was bothering her.”
“She seemed happy,” said Van Dyne. “She really did.”
“About getting married.”
“About everything. She was a reserved person, Lieutenant. An old-fashioned girl.” Van Dyne’s fingers separated, but he kept his hand on his chest. “Have you talked to her therapist? Dr. Mary Lou Koppel, she’s one of those radio personalities. For all I know that’s how Flora found her, from hearing her on the radio.”
“Would Flora do something like that?” I said. “Listen to a show and call up for an appointment?”
Van Dyne thought about that. “It’s not what I’d have predicted, but who knows? What did Koppel say about treating Flora?”
“Haven’t spoken to her yet,” said Milo.
“Maybe you’ll have better luck than I did.” Van Dyne’s hands dropped to his lap. “I called her a few weeks after the murder, when I found out Flora had been seeing her. I’m not even sure what I wanted. Some memory of Flora, I guess. Maybe some sympathy, it was a horrendous time. But boy did I dial a wrong number. She was anything but sympathetic. Said confidentiality prevented her from speaking to me and hung up. Very curt. Not in the least bit therapeutic.”
Driving away from the school, Milo frowned and lit up a panatella. “Sensitive guy.”
“He bug you in some way?”
“Not in the criminal sense, but I wouldn’t want to hang out with him. Too delicate.” He frowned. “Working at a parole office where the cons made her nervous. One reinterview and we’ve got info that wasn’t in Lorraine’s notes.”
“Lorraine and McKinley weren’t impressed with the parole job because a year had gone by.”
“I’m more easily impressed.”
We returned to the station, where he accessed Flora Newsome’s state employment records and located the parole branch where she’d clerked for five months. Not downtown, the North Hollywood office. A half-hour drive from the murder scene.
I said, “A con notices her, follows her home, stakes out her apartment. Breaking in wouldn’t be much of a challenge for a pro.”
“Ye olde failure to rehabilitate,” he said. “Wonder what Dr. Koppel thinks about that.” He stood, stretched, sat down hard.
I said, “There’s another possibility. The con didn’t follow Flora home, she already knew him. That’s why there was no sign of a break-in. Why he didn’t need to bring a knife. Maybe what brought Flora to therapy was more than adjustment problems.”
“Nice, old-fashioned girl getting it on with a lowlife?”
“She kept her therapy from her boyfriend, could’ve had other secrets.”
“Fooling with a con,” he said. “Forbidden pleasures. Guilt took her to Koppel.” He stared at me. “You do weave a web.”
He walked me through the station and out to the street, glanced at his Timex. “Think I’ll have a go at Koppel. Solo, seeing as you two have issues.”
“Issues.” I smiled.
“Hey, I’m walkin’ the walk, talkin’ the talk.”
Later that evening, he called, and said, “Did you know shrinks don’t have to hold on to files?”
“Koppel has no records of Flora Newsome’s treatment.”
“Straight into the shredder a month after Newsome died. Koppel says it’s routine, any closed case gets trashed. Otherwise, she runs into a ‘storage problem.’ Also, she claims it helps safeguard confidentiality because no one can ‘happen’ upon the chart.”
“Did she remember anything about Newsome?”
“Even less than she remembered for Ogden. ‘I treat so many patients, Lieutenant.’ ”
“But this patient was murdered.”
“Same difference.”
“She gave you a hard time,” I said.
“Not on the surface. She was superfriendly, nice smile, easy manner. Sends her regards, by the way. Says you’re a real gentleman.”
“I’m touched. She give you anything to work with?”
“She said she couldn’t be sure, but she thought Newsome had come in for ‘anxiety.’ I decided to be direct and brought up the possibility of a con boyfriend. No reaction. If she was hiding something, she’s Oscar quality.”
“What did she have to say about two patients murdered in fourteen months?”
“She looked a little shaken when I phrased it that way, but said she’d never thought of it that way, her patient load was so huge, it really didn’t mean anything. My impression is the lady’s got a busy life, doesn’t spend too much time focused on any single thing, including her patients. The whole interview was on the run. I caught her leaving the building and walked her to her Mercedes. She was scheduled to tape a show, and her cell phone kept ringing. One of her partners, some guy named Gull, had just parked his Mercedes in the lot and came over to say hi. She blew him off, and his expression said he was used to it.”
“Two murders in one practice is routine?”
“I pressed her, Alex. She got irritated, pressed me back about whether the evidence pointed to any connection between Gavin and Flora. I couldn’t give her any details, so I had to tell her no. She said, ‘There you go. Given the size of my practice, it’s a statistical quirk.’ But I’m not sure she believed it. Her hands were on the steering wheel, and her knuckles were white. They got even whiter when I asked her if she was treating any known felons. She said no, of course not, her patients were all decent people. But maybe I stirred up her you-know-what- her consciousness- and she’ll think of something. I’ll have another go at her in a couple days, and I’d like you to be there.”