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Mack’s amazement was unbounded.

‘Don’t tell me you also broke into the Treasury Department!’

‘I’ll tell you all about it one day.’ The detective chuckled, then instructed: ‘Turn to the clipped page.’

Mack’s fumbling fingers found the clip and turned to a page of medical deductions, a long and detailed list that only gradually revealed its secret. And there it was - on two separate lines - the lead to the Park East Psychiatric Clinic and, immediately below it, the item that blew their privilege.

It was too much for the attorney’s bruised and battered mind to handle all at once. Too goddamn much to think about while sitting on a crapper with bis pants on the floor in the heart of the citadel of justice.

Brice Mack shook his aching head in a weary but happy way and tried to lean back against the wall but was prevented from doing so by a complication of pipes and knobs which dug into his back and which started him laughing. A laughter soon joined in by the old, lovely, besotted, beet-faced ex-cop in the stall adjoining. Mack could envision the dying eyes staring out of the pickled face, and the pathos of the image suddenly struck at his heart roots, and his laughter eased as memory took over. The memory of something his father had once said to him -long ago - after a bum had come to their door for a handout and, for good reason, was politely refused.

‘My pity, I could not help him,’ Max had said in Yiddish, weeping. ‘He is a man, a creature made in God’s image, with a mind and a spirit that might have been the salvation of the world. It is my pity that I could not help him.’

A humble smile came to Brice Mack’s lips as he thought about all the avenues that Reggie Brennigan - this creature in God’s image - had opened to him. And then he thought of what Elliot Hoover had said, and the smile became fixed. The machine purred smoothly forward under its own power - aligning forces, creating events, introducing people …

Could it be?

Was it really possible?

The sight of the lean olive-skinned man, soberly dressed in dark suit and carrying a slim briefcase, stepping through the door into the courtroom at 8:55 a.m. on Tuesday, triggered a sudden deja vu in Bill Templeton. Somewhere, recently, he had seen this man, had seen the face in close proximity thrust before his own in a fleeting encounter. He couldn’t be certain where, only that the face was familiar and that his instinctive reaction was one of panic.

Bill’s eyes fastened blatantly on the man’s face as he walked through the rail gate and took a seat at the end of their row.

It was at this weak and anxious moment that the identity of the man came to him in a sudden flash. They had met at the Park East Psychiatric Clinic. They had almost collided in the hallway that day he went to examine Dr Vassar’s notebook.

Bill felt a cold sweat sprout on his face as Judge Langley, cross and tired, entered the courtroom and hurriedly convened the court. Bill’s memory of the man’s name was soon refreshed by Brice Mack, who stood and, in a voice both bright and eager, said, ‘I call as my next witness Dr Gregory Alonzo Perez.’ Even before Perez stood up, Janice saw the quick, puzzled expression leap into Scott Velie’s eyes as he turned to the courtroom, studying first the witness moving through the gate, then Bill, with a gaze that was intensely questioning. Bill’s only response was to sigh deeply and shake his head in an abject way.

The news-hungry press leaned forward in their seats as the witness took the stand and was sworn in by the bailiff. A polite silence ensued while Brice Mack allowed Perez to make himself comfortable.

‘Would you state your full name, please?’ he asked in a soft friendly voice.

‘Gregory Alonzo Federico Perez.’

‘And what is your profession?’

‘I am a Doctor of Psychiatry.’

Bill recalled the thin Spanish-accented voice from their phone conversation of more than two months before.

‘Are you licensed to practise in this city?’

‘Yes.’

‘And at what address do you practise?’

‘I hold a clinical appointment at the Park East Psychiatric Clinic at 1010 Fifth Avenue.’

An expression of fear passed over Janice’s face at the mention of the clinic.

‘Will you tell the jury when you first received your appointment at the Park East Clinic?’

‘Immediately after completing my training at the Sheppard and Enoch Pratt Hospital in Towson, Maryland, I arrived at Park East and served my internship there. The year was 1966.’

‘At that time were you brought into contact with Dr Ellen Vassar?’

Scott Velie’s lips pursed as if to speak, but he restrained himself.

‘Yes, I worked closely with Dr Vassar as her assistant for six years, until her death in 1972.’

‘Would I be correct in assuming that during that time you were familiar with most of Dr Vassar’s cases?’

‘Yes. All her cases.’

‘Are you familiar with a case involving a patient named Ivy Templeton, who received treatment from Dr Vassar during the period commencing December 12, 1966, and extending through September 23, 1967?’

Scott Velie rose slowly, his brow furrowed pensively, and in a flat, undramatic voice, said, ‘This is privileged information, Your Honour. Defence is getting into the question of a doctor-patient relationship, and this is privileged, and we object to it on that basis.’

Mack, with an eye on the jury, quickly interposed, ‘There’s no question that the privilege exists, Your Honour; however, in this case there has been a waiver of the privilege by the child’s parents.’

‘At no time,’ Velie lashed back, ‘have the parents of Ivy Templeton waived the privilege, Your Honour. I contend the question violates the doctor-patient privilege rule and is objectionable, and I—’

Judge Langley had begun to bang his gavel and cut in with: ‘Just a second here.’ Then, turning a questioning face towards Brice Mack: ‘Are you prepared to make an offer of proof to support your claim of waiver?’

Mack, savouring this moment, said, ‘I am prepared to introduce into evidence three documents that clearly establish a waiver by the parents of Ivy Templeton of the doctor-patient privilege. One, the claim filed by Mr and Mrs Templeton with the Mutual Insurance Company of Manhattan. Two, the insurance claim form of the Mutual Insurance Company of Manhattan, completed by Dr Vassar and submitted to the insurance company. And three, the written supplementary statement concerning Ivy Templeton’s mental disturbances, prepared by Dr Vassar and submitted to the Mutual Insurance Company of Manhattan, all at the request of and with the authorization of Mr and Mrs Templeton.’

Velie shouted, ‘That’s not really a true waiver! It was only made for the purpose of collecting insurance money and wasn’t intended to reveal the nature and contents of the child’s illness!’

Judge Langley banged the gavel.

‘They can’t have their cake and eat it,’ he admonished the prosecutor. ‘They wanted to get reimbursed, and they had no objection to submitting information on the child’s illness to a third party - namely, the insurance company’s file clerks, typists, claim adjusters, and so forth. You can’t claim privilege here, Mr Velie. I deem it’s been waived. Objection overruled.’

Brice Mack turned back to the witness, wearing the smile of a victor. ‘Once again, Dr Perez, are you familiar with a case involving a patient named Ivy Templeton, who received treatment from Dr Vassar during the period commencing December 12, 1966, and extending through September 23, 1967?’

‘Yes.’

Brice Mack next addressed the bench. ‘Your Honour, in view of Dr Perez’s answer I ask your indulgence to have him step down from the stand. I’d like to put another witness on the stand out of order so as to lay a foundation for the introduction into evidence of the three documents I’ve just mentioned to you.’

‘Proceed,’ Judge Langley said.

Dr Perez resumed his seat in the witness row while Frank Tallman, custodian of records for the Mutual Insurance Company of Manhattan, was called to the stand and sworn in.

During the transaction, Brice Mack glanced briefly at the Templetons and was not surprised to see them both slumped deeply in their seats, wearing expressions of shock, fear, and self-recrimination.

In total command of himself and greatly relishing the moment, the defence attorney quickly ascertained from the custodian of records his name, function, and the nature and contents of the record room over which he held custodianship. Brice Mack then asked him to identify the file which he had been subpoenaed to produce in court. Taking a folder from his briefcase, Tallman described it as a file concerning the claim of Mr and Mrs Templeton for reimbursement of medical expenses incurred by their daughter during the period of December 12, 1966, and September 23, 1967.

Selecting the three documents he had previously referred to from the file, Brice Mack offered them into evidence as Defence Exhibits One, Two, and Three, captioned ‘Templeton’ and as identified by the witness.

Whereupon Scott Velie rose and, putting a good face on a bad situation, not only agreed to their admission, but insisted, ‘Your Honour, I think the entire file ought to go into the evidence.’ And further to demonstrate his utter lack of concern over their introduction into evidence, he even declined the right and privilege to examine the exhibits.

It was all over and done with in less than five minutes, at which point Frank Tallman returned the witness chair to Dr Perez.

Brice Mack’s smile went out to him like a soft embrace.

‘Dr Perez, will you tell the court something about the reputation Dr Vassar enjoyed as a psychiatrist?’

‘Certainly. She was an acknowledged leader in her field, being that of child psychiatry. She was in great demand as a lecturer, and she published frequently. Her papers are considered definitive by most psychiatrists even today. She was a brilliant woman.’

‘Thank you. Now, you said you worked in close association with Dr Vassar until the time of her death?’

‘Yes.’

‘And that you were privy to all her cases?’

‘Yes.’

‘Dr Perez, the subpoena served upon you required that you produce a file of Dr Vassar’s concerning her patient, Ivy Templeton. Have you produced those records?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you have them with you?’

‘Yes.’

‘May I see them?’

With a nod, the witness unzipped his briefcase and removed the file folder that was immediately recognizable to Bill and Janice.

Accepting the folder, Brice Mack held it up to the witness.

‘I show you a file folder, dated December 12, 1966, to September 23, 1967, and bearing the caption Templeton. Can you identify it?’

‘Yes. It is the file containing the records of the examination and interviews and conclusions concerning a patient named Ivy Templeton, who, at two and a half years of age, came under the psychiatric care of Dr Vassar during the period of those dates.’

Turning to the bench, Mack said, ‘Your Honour, I offer this entire file into evidence as Defence Exhibit Number Four and ask that its entire contents be read into the record.’

Velie stood. ‘Your Honour, defendant’s attorney hasn’t even shown me the common courtesy to permit me to examine this file before showing it to the witness. I ask that before the file is accepted into evidence, I be allowed to examine it.’

‘Granted.’ Judge Langley rose. ‘Court will take a thirty-minute recess.’

*

What do you think?’ Bill asked.

Velie’s hand lifted tenuously to ward off distraction as he continued flipping through the pages, dwelling at great length on the final entry, which referred to Jungian archetypes as a possible explanation for the nightmares. At last Velie shut the small book with a thump and sighed deeply.

‘Well, I haven’t found any material I think I can exclude on the basis of hearsay.’ He looked at Bill starkly. ‘It certainly opens a door for them.’

‘They didn’t have this file yesterday,’ Bill said hotly.

Noting Bill’s hunched-over, hangdog expression, the district attorney smiled and said equably, ‘He’s opened a door, Bill, but let’s not commit suicide till we find out what he thinks there is on the other side of it.’

*

When court reconvened at ten forty, Brice Mack quickly renewed his motion to introduce the file into evidence. No objection was made by the district attorney, and the court ordered it marked as Defence Exhibit Four. At that point Brice Mack again asked the court’s permission to read the entire file into the record, Scott Velie came to his feet, pouting. ‘Your Honour, it’s a voluminous file. The jury will have the opportunity to take the file into the jury room for assistance in its deliberations if it so chooses, and we strongly feel that it would be an unnecessary abuse of the court’s time to permit the reading of the entire file into the evidence.’

‘Your Honour,’ Mack sighed with a maddening indolence - ‘I do ask the court’s indulgence to read the entire file into the evidence, for I believe that it will assist the jury in intelligently evaluating the testimony that will be forthcoming in the trial if they have heard its contents.’

Judge Langley, who seemed more than interested in hearing the entire contents of the file himself, quickly decided in favour of the defence.

The balance of the morning was spent in reading its contents into the record. Brice Mack identified each page of the notebook by page count and slowly enunciated each entry, struggling over the pronunciation of the more complex psychiatric terms and often being forced to spell a word into the record.

When the reading came to an end, a hushed expectancy hovered over the courtroom while Judge Langley considered his next move, which, although it was twenty minutes shy of twelve o’clock, was to declare the noon break.

*

Janice skipped lunch at Pinetta’s on the pretext of some fictional errands. There was nothing ambiguous in the looks Bill had been sending her throughout the morning session, and her innate sense of danger ahead had sent up enough warning signals to convince her that his company was to be avoided at all costs. With a couple of martinis inside him, the short fuse on a temper that was boiling murderously close to the surface was sure to erupt, especially if she was there to ignite it.