Part 13 (2/2)

”Okay.” She looked up at him. ”Thanks, Rob. You didn't have to stay last night, but I appreciate it.”

”What are friends for?”

”Are we still friends? After all that's happened?”

He shrugged. ”It took me a good while to accept the fact that we just weren't meant to live happily ever after, but that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you. Why? Did you stop caring about me?”

Kara shook her head slowly. ”No. That's why I wouldn't speak to you anymore back then.” Well, that's part of the reason Well, that's part of the reason. ”I knew we couldn't work out, but I was afraid I'd change my mind if I saw you again.”

His smile was small and sad. ”I was hoping you'd say something like that. Maybe we can relax a little more with each other.”

I wish I could, Rob. But I can't.

”Sure. That'd be nice. And thanks again for standing guard last night. I owe you.”

He grimaced and rotated a kink out of his back.

”Yeah. You do. And you can show your grat.i.tude by letting me cook you dinner before you go.”

Despite the pain in her head, she laughed. Memories of the awful concoctions he used to whip up threatened the delicate state of her stomach.

”Oh, Rob-”

”No, I'm serious. I've gotten better. I'm actually pretty good now. Please. It'll mean a lot to me, and you'll enjoy it. I promise.”

She looked at him closely. It really did seem to mean a lot to him.

”Okay.”

He beamed and stuck out a hand. ”It's a deal?”

”Deal,” she said and shook his hand.

He waved and headed for the door, pulling a cigarette pack, from his pocket. And whistling, no less.

4:42 P.M.

Rob sat in Doc Winters' tiny, rickety waiting room and glanced at his watch. Getting close to five. He was supposed to meet Kara soon, but first he wanted to talk to Doc Winters. He was one of the department shrinks. He treated the cops when they needed it and he was also available for consultation when they thought they had a psycho on the loose.

But right now Rob wanted to find out what Doc Winters knew about a fellow shrink named Lawrence Gates, M.D.

Rob had taken an instant disliking to Gates yesterday, and now that he knew Gates might be putting Kara under hypnosis this afternoon, he wanted the skinny on him. He'd run a check-no criminal record, no complaints lodged with the State Board of Medical Examiners, not even an outstanding parking ticket. Clean. But so what? Pre-med at NYU, graduate of Flower Fifth Medical School, psychiatric residency at Downstate Medical Center in Brooklyn. Fine. At least he was well trained. But what Rob really wanted to know he couldn't get from an AMA register or a CV. He needed someone who knew the guy.

Doc Winters said he knew him.

Rob could have asked about Gates over the phone but he wanted to be with Winters, wanted to watch him when he answered. These shrinks were like a secret society, never wanting to say anything bad about each other in public. If he could get in front of Doc Winters, Rob knew he could tell if he was hedging.

The door opened and Rob recognized Bobby Kurtzman coming out. He nodded once to Rob and hurried off. Rob shook his head. Poor Kurtzman. He'd shot a kid he'd thought was armed. Turned out he wasn't. The kid recovered and was fine now. Kurtzman would probably never be the same.

Inside, Rob found Doc Winters, a white-haired, heavy-set man of about sixty. He wore a bulging white s.h.i.+rt and gray suit pants. The suit jacket was nowhere to be seen. His office was cramped, and his desk was piled high with papers, journals, correspondence, patient files.

Although Rob had met him a few times before, he introduced himself anyway.

”Sure, Harris. I remember you. You called me about Larry Gates, didn't you?”

”Right.”

”Is he in trouble?”

”Should he be?”

”Don't play wise with me, detective.”

Rob realized that remark had not been a good choice. He'd forgotten that Doc Winters tended to be a crusty old fart.

”Sorry. I just want a personal opinion of the man. He'll be treating a friend of mine and I just want to know if he's the right man for the job.”

”What's your friend's problem?”

”Don't know yet. Might be a multiple personality.”

Doc Winters' eyebrows shot up. ”Really! Don't come across them too often. But she couldn't be in better hands.”

”How'd you know she's a she?”

”Nine out of ten multiple personalities are female. Larry's an expert on them. He was on my service as a resident for a while when I had a post at Downstate. Brilliant guy. From day one he's had a special interest in multiple personalities. He's done a few papers on them. Good stuff.”

Doc Winters seemed genuinely enthusiastic about Gates. Rob was encouraged.

”Okay,” Rob said, extending his hand. ”I guess she's with the right man then. Thanks a lot.”

”He's Hungarian, you know,” the doc said as Rob turned to leave. ”An immigrant. Real name is... let me think.” He tapped a pencil against his jaw. ”Ah! Gati. Lazlo Gati. Had it changed when he was in pre-med, I believe. Worked real hard to lose his accent. Did a d.a.m.n good job, too. Said he was an American now and wanted to be accepted as one. Have to admire a man with that kind of determination.”

”I guess you do,” Rob said.

”Doesn't even have to practice. I understand he's rich as Creosus since his sister died in West Virginia a few years ago, but he still keeps going. A dedicated guy-”

”Thanks again, doc.”

Lazlo Gati, Rob thought as he hurried for his car. He'd have to see what he could learn about Lazlo Gati.

Kara waited for Rob.

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