Part 17 (1/2)
”You do,” he steered them across an intersection in the direction of his precinct. ”So let's think on reasons why a psychiatrist would neglect to check bloodwork.”
”Basically, Sheila pegged it. Number one would be ignorance. I'd follow that up with sloppiness, there are some hacks who see so many patients that they just forget or don't care.”
”What else? Neither of those fit.”
Barrett stopped beside a Korean grocer's flower display. ”I know another reason. He wouldn't check ... if he knew that the patient wasn't taking the medication.”
”That's the spirit,” Hobbs picked up a bunch of purple iris and another of half-opened yellow crocus.
”What are you doing?” she asked.
”Nothing,” he handed the flowers to the grocer and paid him. ”So if he knew that Jimmy wasn't taking the pills, why didn't he report it?”
”Because that would be the end of a very tidy piece of change.”
”Exactly,” Hobbs handed the freshly wrapped bouquet to Barrett.
”Thank you,” she said, admiring the contrasting yellow and purple blooms, and a bit confused as to how she was supposed to respond. Feeling flushed, opting to say little, she tried to focus on Dr. Kravitz. ”But then why would he suddenly order bloodwork if he knew that Jimmy wasn't taking his pills?”
”Something changed,” Hobbs remarked. ”Hold onto that thought, and I'll be right back.”
Barrett watched as Hobbs took the stairs to the brick-fronted precinct station two at a time. She sat on a bench beneath a Ginkgo tree, holding her paper-wrapped blooms and mulling over what he'd said. It was the only answer that made sense. Morris Kravitz must have had some deal with Jimmy and then two weeks before his death something changed. He knew that Jimmy wasn't taking his pills, and they'd been colluding, so then why suddenly order bloodwork? It didn't fit. Lost in thought, she startled at Hobbs' voice.
”Blackmail,” the detective commented.
”What?”
”Maybe Kravitz wanted more money, so he started putting the screws to Jimmy. You said that even slight violations could get him sent back to Croton. Not taking medication would fit that, yes?”
”Yes, but ...” She tried to focus, to not think about the sun twinkling in Hobbs' hazel eyes, or the bouquet of spice-sweet blooms. ”Once the results came back it would be out of Kravitz's hands and he'd lose his golden goose. It's got to be something else.”
”Okay, try this on for size ... maybe Jimmy had told Kravitz that he wanted another shrink ... like you. What would Kravitz have done then?”
”I don't know. If he needed the money that badly I imagine he'd try to talk him out of it,” she said, as they headed off in the direction of her co-op.
”And if that didn't work?”
”Then I guess he's screwed, and in more ways than one. Because not only is he losing his best-paying customer, but his shoddy work is about to get exposed. So maybe ... maybe he figured that he'd either scare Jimmy into staying with him, or at least try to cover up for what he should have been doing all along.”
”Still a little rough,” Hobbs commented, ”but I think it's as close as we're going to get without more data. But if it's right, then it gets very hairy.”
”I know,” she said, ”we're looking at a hit-and-run where the blood is lost and ...”
”And a dead psychiatrist with a young wife and a Park Avenue apartment that he couldn't really afford.”
”Do you always finish people's sentences?” she asked.
”Not usually,” he admitted. ”It's a bit of deja vu, isn't it?”
”Yes ... you know there's something I've been wanting to ask you, and you don't have to answer if you don't want.”
”Shoot.”
”This is a pretty big coincidence-your showing up at Jimmy's house the way you did. Is it a coincidence?”
”No, I saw your name and pulled a few strings to get the a.s.signment.”
”I'm glad you did,” she looked up at her building. ”Well, this is me,” she said, not wanting their walk to end.
”Before I forget,” he reached into an outer pocket. ”I got a wire for you. I could give it to you here, if you like. Have you ever worn one?”
”No, and just the idea of it makes me pretty nervous. You want to come up and show me what I'm supposed to do with it?”
”Sure,” he said, following her inside.
Neither one spoke as they rode up six floors and walked down the hall to her apartment.
Ed watched as she unlocked the door. ”You know you should get better cylinders for those locks,” he commented.
”I was planning to get them changed ... .”
”Good idea. The ones you've got now are easy to pick.”
As she opened the door, she asked, ”What about the ones at the Kravitz apartment-easy or hard?”
”Easy, but at least they have a doorman and you don't.”
”Great ... can I get you something to eat? Or drink?”
”I'm good,” he stood in the doorway taking in Barrett's surroundings. ”Interesting.”
She took her flowers into the galley kitchen and poured water into a crystal vase, ”What's interesting?” She glanced at the answering machine and saw the red light flas.h.i.+ng with new messages.
”Your apartment.”
”Interesting how?”
”Don't get me wrong, it's very nice, it's just ...”
”Not me?”
”Right. It's not what I expected.”
”My husband ... Ralph did the decorating. Everything has to be very clean, very modern. I like things with color. I guess you pick your battles in a marriage.”
”Interesting choice of words.”