Three days pass with no word from
Baxter. I’m
giving him
ti
m
e to cool off. I have never before felt so rejected, unless, of course,
I want to count Mark
asking for a divorce.
Large drops of rain splatter against
m
y
o
ffice window. I’ve been sitting so long
m
y feet are asleep. I rotate
m
y
a
nkles until pinpricks
of feeling return and then hobble across the room
to turn on the lights against the gloo
m
. I go out for a sandwich and when I return there are five
m
essages on
m
y phone.
The first t
w
o are hang-ups. The next is
a call from Gary inviting
m
e to lunch, his s
m
oky voice reproaching
m
e for not having c
a
lled him
to let him
know what
’
s going on. The
f
ourth is a chillin
gl
y e
ff
icient message
f
rom
Baxter’s se
c
ret
a
ry ad
m
o
nishing
m
e to cancel all
de
part
m
ent appoint
m
ents until the c
h
ief’s investi
g
ation is completed and I have settled the co
m
plaint with the Board of Psychology.
The final
m
essage is an officious f
e
m
ale voice infor
m
ing
m
e that I have been
given an appoint
m
ent with a professional conduct investigator from the Board of Psy
c
hology in Sacra
m
ento. If I am
unable to
m
ake this appoint
m
ent I can reschedule, but doing so would delay adjudicating
m
y case for as long as 60 days. If I am
m
ore than
15
m
inutes late, the appoint
m
ent will be auto
m
atically cancelled. I am
expected to b
r
ing all rec
o
rds pertaining to the client Benja
m
in Go
m
ez and warned that modifying these docu
m
ents is a cri
m
inal offense.
Gary leaves a two-day-old copy of the local newspaper in front of
m
y office door with a note attached. “Did you see this?
Nice work.”
The headline reads: Police Depart
m
ent Psychologist Placed on Ad
m
i
nistrative Leave. My na
m
e and picture are underneath the headline, top left corner, above the fold. I shouldn
’
t be shocked, but I a
m
. Baxter put
m
e on leave in front of Vinnie Patcher
a
nd half a dozen police officers. So
m
eone, probably Vinnie hi
m
self, leaked it to the pre
s
s. There is a sh
o
rt i
n
ter
v
iew with Baxter who confir
m
s that his depart
m
ent psychologist
and
another
unn
a
m
ed
e
m
ployee are under investigation for i
m
proper u
s
e of depart
m
ent records and
m
i
suse of their authority. Protocol keeps officers’
na
m
es out of the
press. Psychologists h
a
ve no such protection. Because t
h
is is an open investi
g
ation,
Baxter declines to comment further, although he appreciates that there is public concern. He reports that Dr. Mark Edison has offered his services,
pro bono
, during this crisis and ackno
w
ledges that the board of supervisors is considering
ter
m
inating
my
contract
and hiring Dr. Edison.
Who, I wonder, leaked the story to Mark?
Chapter Twenty Three
I
get to Sacra
m
ento just as the ragged sh
r
ouds of ground fog that lay across the high
w
ay are starting to evaporate in the super hot a
i
r. The Board of Psychology is located along a row of forlorn Victorian houses. A sand-filled
s
t
o
ne urn cram
m
ed with cigarette butts
and crushed soda cans stands at the door. I can see
that not a single penny of my hard earned tax dollars
h
as been squandered on aesthetics. The rece
p
tionist directs
m
e to sit on a molded pla
s
tic c
h
air. I
a
m
ru
m
pled from
the short walk. Ben’s file lies on my lap, war
m
ing
m
y
already warm thighs.
“Dr. Meyer
h
off
?
” A door opens to my left and a tall, thin w
o
m
an weari
n
g a fitted red suit with a short pleated skirt leans
into the lobby propping the door open with her elbow, a germ freak or
m
aybe sh
e
’
s just f
i
nished polishing her nails.
“
F
ollow
m
e, please.”
She spins around and walks briskly do
w
n a narrow corridor on spiked red heels. I follow behind, drab by co
m
parison, in a tan suit and
m
y teal green good-luck sweater.
“In here, please,” she gestures to an open door that leads to a s
m
all offi
c
e. “Have a seat
.
”
I sit on one of two ancie
n
t wooden
chairs that face a gray
m
etal desk.
“I’m Marsha Hudson, professional conduct investigator.” Her dry ringless hand ski
m
s
m
i
ne in a perfunctory handshake. She has an angular
f
ace with deep set eyes, a wide flat
m
outh and a sharp chin. Her glossy, straight brown hair swings like a heavy curtain. S
m
all age lines cobweb around her
m
outh and
at the corners of her eyes.
“Are you a psychologist
?
”
“I’m
a trained professio
n
al conduct investigator. The
interview today is only a first step. After talking to
you and exa
m
ining your files, I will
m
ake a recommendation about pursuing or dropping your case. You have the right to appeal
m
y recom
m
endation.”
I wonder how so
m
eone who
has never been a therapist can sit in judg
m
ent of
m
e. Ms. Hudson pulls a piece of pa
pe
r from
her desk, looks at it and sli
d
es it across the desk. “This is a copy of the co
m
p
laint and your rights and responsibilities. Please
m
ake sure all yo
u
r infor
m
ation is correct
.
”
“My given na
m
e is Dot, not Dorothy. It’s a fa
m
ily joke. My parents started calling
m
e that in
u
tero when their
d
octor told them
I was no bigger than a dot. When I was born, they kept the na
m
e.”
Ms. Hudson is not a
m
used by this fa
m
ily anecdote.
S
he corrects her copy of the p
a
per and asks
m
e to initial the correction.
“Since you’re here by yourself, I presu
m
e you have elected not to have legal representation.”
“Do I need legal represe
n
tation?
I thought this was a
fact finding interview.”
“That’s entirely up to you.” Ms. Hudson’s
m
outh settles into a hard t
h
in line. “If there are no further questions or corrections, let’s get started. May I see your files, please?”
“I have only one file.”
She re
m
ov
e
s a pair of red fr
a
m
ed reading
glasses from
the top drawer of her desk. She opens the file folder, slowing
m
o
ving the bony index finger of her left hand across the page. Expect no
m
ercy, I warn myself. The
spare, color-coordin
a
ted Ms. Hudson is as conte
m
ptuous of flaws in other
people as she is of her own.
“Is t
h
is all?”
The file co
n
t
ains
h
andwrit
t
en notes from
my
m
e
e
tings with Ben and copies of the handouts I gave hi
m
. She squ
i
nts and slides a paper back across the desk,
m
arking a place in the margin with a long red fi
n
gernail.
“What does this sa
y
?
I can’t read your
ha
ndwriting
.
”
I turn the paper around.”Fabric softener, eggs and Diet Coke.”
“Is this part of
your clinical notes
?
”
“No. Of course not. I must have writt
e
n it be
f
ore
I st
a
r
ted the
int
e
rview,
o
r after.”
Ms. Hudson writes in her notebook.
“I want to clarify so
m
ething. Mr. Go
m
ez w
a
sn’t my client, not in the usual sense. The Kenilworth Police Depart
m
ent is
m
y client.”
Ms. Hudson peers over the top of her reading glasses. “You saw h
i
m
three ti
m
es, once with his wife and then he killed hi
m
se
l
f. What was he if he wasn’t a client
?
”
“Those were educational sessions. I
was teaching him
stress manage
m
ent techniques. He was having
trouble in the FTO progra
m
.”
“FTO?”
“Field training. Don
’
t p
r
ofessional conduct investigators go through field training
?
”
“I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t
m
i
nd. Is this the total record
of the services you provided to Mr. Go
m
ez while
he was under your care
?
”
“I did
m
ore. I just didn’t docu
m
ent it in writing.”
“
W
hat else was it that you did
?
”
“I had ancillary interviews with his tra
i
ning officer. I was trying to assist him
in modifying his training techniques in order to help reduce Mr. Go
m
ez’ stress. I also voiced
m
y concerns about this particular
training officer to the police chief, and I observed Mr. Go
m
ez in training. After Mr. Go
m
e
z died, I interviewed his wife’s f
a
m
ily and his grandparents, who raised him.”
My voice
rises an octave with every sentence. It doesn
’
t
m
atter what I say.
W
ithout docu
m
ent
a
tion, there is no proof that I have done anything to help Ben e
x
cept hand
h
im a piece of
paper with the kind of advice available in any popular
m
agazine sold at super
m
arket checkout stands.
“There is nothing in your notes to suggest that you
m
ade any atte
m
pt to a
s
sess your client’s potential for s
u
icide. Or that you sought peer
consultation.
I
find
this particularly
egregious
consi
d
ering the high rate of sui
c
ide a
m
ongst police officers.”
“That
’
s a
m
y
th. There are studies that show that the suicide rate a
m
ong po
l
ice officers is no higher than the general population. In fact, some of those studies indicate that it
’
s lower.”
“Do not lecture
m
e, please Doctor. Just answer my question. Did you or did you not assess your client
fo
r sui
c
idal intent?”
“He was frustrated and scared because he thought he was about to be fired, but he wasn’t suicidal. Lots of people get fired and don’t kill the
m
selves. Me, for instance. I’m about to get fired and I’m not suicidal.”
“I don
’
t appreciate sarcasm either.
H
ow do you know Mr. Go
m
ez wasn’t suicidal if you didn’t do an assess
m
ent
?
”
The alarm
on h
e
r watch starts beeping softly. “Our ti
m
e is up, Dr. Meyerhoff. I’ll return your file after I make
m
y recommendation. Is there anything you want to add
?
”
“Are you going to talk to anyone else about hi
m
?”
“I don’t have the ti
m
e to do field interviews.”
“So you accept his wife’s co
m
plaints
about
m
e at face value, but you won
’
t believe
m
e when I tell you I acted
according
to
professional
standards?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. Please don’t
m
i
squote
m
e or second guess what I’m
thinking.”
“Obviously, Mr. Go
m
ez
’
s wife wants to
m
ake so
m
eone else responsible for her husband’s suicide. That’s why she’s pointing her finger at
m
e.”
“Let
m
e re
m
i
nd you that Board of Psychology rules forbid you to have any contact with
the co
m
plainant. These are not
m
y
rules, Dr. Meyerhoff. These are the rules of the State of California.”
She stands up. “As I said ear
l
ier, if you disagree with
m
y recom
m
endation, you can always appeal the decision.”