“Your e
m
otional health co
m
es first.
If you’re depressed you won’t have the energy you need to care for your baby.”
Husband and wife exchange looks a
n
d inch cl
o
ser until their
b
odies are wedged together, his arm
around her shoulders, her hand on his leg.
“I’m
not depressed. I’m
frustrated. I
w
ould never hurt
m
yself or the baby.” She turns to hi
m
,
her eyes wide
w
ith alarm. “Really, I pro
m
ise.”
“I think we’ve had enough for today, Doc,” the husband says.
“
W
e should stop.”
They stand up in tandem, united now, against
m
e and
m
y insinuations.
“I’m
sorry. I didn’t
m
ean to frighten you. I just wanted to offer you and your wife an option.
S
o
m
eti
m
es I have to ask tough questions. I can see I’ve upset you both.”
“Not a proble
m
. I’ll work so
m
ething out with the guys. They’ll understand. They’ve been through this, too.”
He moves tow
a
rd the door. They can
’
t wait to leave.
“Next week,
sa
m
e t
i
m
e?”
“I
’
ll give you a call, Doc, okay?
I don’t know what
m
y schedule is yet.”
He is lying, of course. And why not? I
’
ve been clu
m
sy and tactless, overreacted like a novice at the slightest hint that another of
m
y
c
lients
m
i
ght be suicidal. Reduced the co
m
plexity of a painful situation to an insultingly
s
i
m
ple
diagnosis. I sho
u
ld stick with writing and testing and leave counseling to so
m
eone li
k
e Gary, who has empathy and insight, who isn
’
t so caught up in the soap opera of his own
life that he can
’
t think straight.
They close the door behind them
and I can hear their footsteps, quick and light on the stairs. I pick up the envelope from
the Board and re-read the c
om
plaint. I’m
not sure I should fight this. Maybe I deserve to have
m
y license pulled.
Chapter Fifteen
After the next day’s staff
m
eeting, Baxter asks me into his
o
ffice and tells his secretary to hold his calls. He shoves a sheaf of papers across his desk.
“
A
pril Go
m
ez is suing the depart
m
ent for negligent hiring,
n
egligent
retenti
o
n, breach of du
t
y to care,
wrongful dischar
g
e and harass
m
ent – the whole enchilada.
Didn’t
take
Patcher
l
ong to get her to do it. I’m
surprised he waited a
m
onth. You
’
re one of the na
m
e
d defendants. That’s standard procedure. The lawyers would na
m
e
Jesus if they thought he had
m
oney.”
“Do they have a case?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to the
c
ity attorney yet. He
’
s at a conference. So
m
eti
m
es these t
h
ings never g
e
t to court.
I
t
’
s cheaper to pay people off and
m
ake them go away. Patcher knows this.”
“If we
have to go to court who covers
m
y court costs
?
”
“Your
m
alpractice ins
u
rance.”
“Not the city?”
“You’re a contractor, not an e
m
ployee.”
“No way. If
m
y insurance co
m
pany
has to pay, they
’
ll drop
m
e or raise
m
y pre
m
iu
m
s
s
ky high.
W
h
y isn’t she suing Eddie, too
?
”
“His na
m
e
’
s on here. But you and I and
the City are the deep pockets. Eddie R
i
m
bauer’s just a cop. Probably doesn’t have
a pot to piss in, spends all his
m
oney on booze and ali
m
ony. Patcher knows that. He’s not going to
w
aste his ti
m
e
.”
“Patcher knows about Eddie’s drinking
?
”
Baxter winces. “
W
hat a cop does off du
t
y is his
b
usiness so long as it doesn’t interfere with his work.”
My father would h
a
ve been on his feet, yelling about the blue wall of sile
n
ce, how cops are like a
g
ang of
thugs, always pr
o
t
ecting each other, looki
n
g the other way.
I pull the envelope from
the Board of
Psychology out of
m
y
briefcase.
“
M
rs. Go
m
ez has been busy. She filed a co
m
p
laint again
s
t
m
e with the Bo
a
rd of Psychology.
If the co
m
p
laint is sustained, I c
o
uld lose
m
y license and if I do, I lose
m
y ability to practice psychology. Even if her l
a
wsuit never goes to court, the Board can pull my license.”
Baxter cracks his neck,
m
aking a noise like so
m
eone crinkling a wad of cellop
h
ane. I i
m
agine him stuck, his neck twi
s
ted, and his face per
m
anently turned to the ceiling.
“I
’
ll talk to the city attorney about that, too. In the
m
ea
n
t
i
m
e, don
’
t tell anyone else.”
He puts the papers in his brie
f
case,
closes the cover a
n
d snaps the locks shut.
When I don’t
m
ove, he asks, “Anything else
?
”
What I’d like is a little
empathy, but I can see I’m
not going to get it from Baxter. So I say, “I’m worried about so
m
ething. Suppose Eddie screws over another recruit and I get blamed agai
n
?”
“I told you before, Eddie isn’t harassing recruits. Look Dot, you need to be careful who you bla
m
e and for what. The tab
l
es could turn.
S
o
m
ebody
m
ight bring up the fact that we never had a cop kill hi
m
self until you ca
m
e on bo
a
rd.”
“And I was never sued or brought up on charges by the Psychology Board before I joined this department.
W
hat’s next, am
I going to get sho
t
?” My voice sounds shrill, and I feel the press of
tears be
hi
nd
m
y eyes. I dig
m
y
f
i
ngernai
l
s i
n
to
m
y pal
m
s and will
m
yself not to
cr
y. “You can retire at 55 with a pension and get
another job. I
’
m
a consultant. I don
’
t have a pension.”
There is a tap at the door. Baxter’s secretary sticks h
e
r head around the corner. “Is everything all right?”
“Fine,” Baxter says. “
W
e got a little
loud. Sorry. We’re finished here. Dr. Meyerhoff is just leaving. Not to worry.”
He
walks to the door and gently shuts it behind her. It is a s
m
all distraction, but
ti
m
e
enough to subdue
m
y t
e
ars.
“I’m
not prepared to roll over for Eddie
Ri
m
bauer, and I’m
not prepared to close the books on
Ben
’
s death until I’m
satisfied t
h
at I
u
nderstand
w
hat happened. I will n
o
t be the sca
p
eg
o
at here.”
“No one is trying to
m
ake you a scapegoat.
Trust
m
e.” He hands
m
e my briefcase. “Let
m
e give you a little advice. Every
c
op knows that one day he
m
ay h
a
ve to kill so
m
eone. If he can
’
t
accept that, he s
h
ouldn
’
t be a cop. Must
b
e the sa
m
e for psychologists. You have to be prepared for
the possibility that one of your clients, patients, whatever you call the
m
, could kill the
m
selves.”
I feel a
m
oist heat rising under
m
y
s
uit
j
acket. What nerve, lecturing
to
m
e about my own profession.
“I don
’
t know how anyone p
r
epares to deal with suicide, Chief. You can t
a
lk ab
o
ut it, read a
b
out it, b
u
t t
h
e re
a
lity of
it is in
d
es
c
ri
b
able.”
T
r
ait
o
rous te
a
r
s
st
art building behind
m
y eyes.
“If you can
’
t tolerate
h
a
v
i
ng a patient kill
h
i
m
self,” he says, “
m
aybe you
’
r
e in the wrong job.”