Peter studied the man opposite him. When patients came to Be him for the first time, they were invariably nervous. Some covered it up with bravado, others were silent or talkative or defensive. Peter could detect no signs of nervousness in this man. On the contrary, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Curious, Peter thought.
"Dr. Harley tells me you have a problem."
George sighed. "I'm afraid I have two."
"Why don't you tell me about them?"
"I feel so ashamed. That's why I—I insisted on coming to see you." He leaned forward in his chair and said earnestly, "I did something I've never done before in my life, Doctor. I struck a woman."
Peter waited.
"We were having an argument and I blacked out, and when I came to, I had ... hit her." He let his voice break slightly. "It was terrible."
Peter Templeton's inner voice told him he already knew what George Mellis's problem was. He enjoyed beating up women.
"Was it your wife you struck?"
"My sister-in-law."
Peter had occasionally come across items about the Blackwell twins in newspapers or magazines when they appeared at charity events or society affairs. They were identical, Peter recalled, and strikingly beautiful. So this man had hit his sister-in-law. Peter found that mildly interesting. He also found it interesting that George Mellis made it sound as though he had merely slapped her once or twice. If that had been true, John Harley would not have insisted that Peter see Mellis.
"You say you hit her. Did you hurt her?"
"As a matter of fact, I hurt her pretty badly. As I told you, Doctor, I blacked out. When I came to, I—I couldn't believe it."
When I came to. The classic defense. I didn't do it, my subconscious did it.
"Do you have any idea what caused that reaction?"
"I've been under a terrible strain lately. My father has been seriously ill. He's had several heart attacks. I've been deeply concerned about him. We're a close family."
"Is your father here?"
"He's in Greece."
That Mellis. "You said you had two problems."
"Yes. My wife, Alexandra ..." He stopped.
"You're having marital problems?"
"Not in the sense you mean. We love each other very much. It's just that—" He hesitated. "Alexandra hasn't been well lately."
"Physically?"
"Emotionally. She's constantly depressed. She keeps talking about suicide."
"Has she sought professional help?"
George smiled sadly. "She refuses."
Too bad, Peter thought. Some Park Avenue doctor is being cheated out of a fortune. "Have you discussed this with Dr. Harley?"
"No."
"Since he's the family doctor, I would suggest you speak with him. If he feels it's necessary, he'll recommend a psychiatrist."
George Mellis said nervously, "No. I don't want Alexandra to feel I'm discussing her behind her back. I'm afraid Dr. Harley would—"
'That's all right, Mr. Mellis. I'll give him a call."
"Eve, we're in trouble," George snapped. "Big trouble."
"What happened?"
"I did exactly as you told me. I said I was concerned about Alexandra, that she was suicidal."
"And?"
'The sonofabitch is going to call John Harley and discuss it with him!"
"Oh, Christ! We can't let him."
Eve began to pace. She stopped suddenly. "All right. I'll handle Harley. Do you have another appointment with Temple-ton?"
"Yes."
"Keep it."
The following morning Eve went to see Dr. Harley at his office. John Harley liked the Blackwell family. He had watched the children grow up. He had gone through the tragedy of Marianne's death and the attack on Kate, and putting Tony away in a sanitarium. Kate had suffered so much. And then the rift between Kate and Eve. He could not imagine what had caused it, but it was none of his business. His business was to keep the family physically healthy.
When Eve walked into his office, Dr. Harley looked at her and said, "Keith Webster did a fantastic job!" The only telltale mark was a very thin, barely visible red scar across her forehead. Eve said, "Dr. Webster is going to remove the scar in a month or so."
Dr. Harley patted Eve's arm. "It only makes you more beautiful, Eve. I'm very pleased." He motioned her to a chair. "What can I do for you?"
"This isn't about me, John. It's about Alex."
Dr. Harley frowned. "Is she having a problem? Something to do with George?"
"Oh, no," Eve said quickly. "George is behaving perfectly. In fact, it's George who's concerned about her. Alex has been acting strangely lately. She's been very depressed. Suicidal, even."
Dr. Harley looked at Eve and said flatly, "I don't believe it. That doesn't sound like Alexandra."
"I know. I didn't believe it either, so I went to see her. I was shocked by the change in her. She's in a state of deep depression. Fm really worried, John. I can't go to Gran about it— That's why I came to you. You've got to do something." Her eyes misted. "I've lost my grandmother. I couldn't bear to lose my sister."
"How long has this been going on?"
"I'm not sure. I pleaded with her to talk to you about it. At first she refused, but I finally persuaded her. You've got to help her."
"Of course I will. Have her come in tomorrow morning. And try not to worry, Eve. There are new medications that work miracles."
Dr. Harley walked her to the door of his office. He wished Kate were not so unforgiving. Eve was such a caring person.
When Eve returned to her apartment, she carefully cold-creamed away the red scar on her forehead.
The following morning at ten o'clock, Dr. Harley's receptionist announced, "Mrs. George Mellis is here to see you, Doctor.'
"Send her in."
She walked in slowly, unsure of herself. She was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
John Harley took her hand and said, "It's good to see you, Alexandra. Now what's this I hear about your having problems?"
Her voice was low. "I feel foolish bothering you, John. I'm sure there's nothing wrong with me. If Eve hadn't insisted, I never would have come. I feel fine, physically."
"What about emotionally?"
She hesitated. "I don't sleep very well."
"What else?"
"You'll think I'm a hypochondriac ..."
"I know you better than that, Alexandra."
She lowered her eyes. "I feel depressed all the time. Sort of anxious and ... tired. George goes out of his way to make me happy and to think up things for us to do together and places for us to go. The problem is that I don't feel like doing anything or going anywhere. Everything seems so—hopeless."
He was listening to every word, studying her. "Anything else?"
"I—I think about killing myself." Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her. She looked up at him and said, "Am I going crazy?"
He shook his head. "No. I don't think you're going crazy. Have you ever heard of anhedonia?"
She shook her head.
"It's a biological disturbance that causes the symptoms you've described. It's a fairly common condition, and there are some new drugs that make it easy to treat. These drugs have no side effects, and they're effective. I'm going to examine you, but I'm sure we won't find anything really wrong."
When the examination was completed and she had gotten dressed again, Dr. Harley said, "I'm going to give you a prescription for Wellbutrin. It's part of a new generation of antidepressants^—one of the new wonder drugs."
She watched listlessly as he wrote out a prescription.
"I want you to come back and see me a week from today. In the meantime, if you have any problems, call me, day or night." He handed her the prescription.
'Thank you, John," she said. "I just hope these will stop the dream."
"What dream?"
"Oh, I thought I told you. It's the same one every night. I'm on a boat and it's windy, and I hear the sea calling
. I walk to the rail and I look down and I see myself in the water, drowning.."
She walked out of Dr. Harley's office and onto the street. She leaned against the building, taking deep breaths. I did it, Eve thought exultantly. I got away with it. She threw the prescription away.
Kate Blackwell was tired. The meeting had gone on too long, She looked around the conference table at the three men and three women on the executive board. They all seemed fresh and vital. So it's not the meeting that has been going on too long, Kate thought. I've gone on too long. I'll be eighty-two. I'm getting old. The thought depressed her, not because she had any fear of dying, but because she was not ready yet. She refused to die until Kruger-Brent, Ltd., had a member of the Blackwell family running it. After the bitter disappointment with Eve, Kate had tried to build her future plans around Alexandra. "You know I would do anything for you, Gran, but I'm sim-ply not interested in becoming involved with the company. George would be an excellent executive ..."
"Do you agree, Kate?" Brad Rogers was addressing her. The question shook Kate out of her reverie. She looked toward Brad guiltily. "I'm sorry. What was the question?"
"We were discussing the Deleco merger." His voice was patient. Brad Rogers was concerned about Kate Blackwell. In recent months she had started daydreaming during board meetings, and then just when Brad Rogers decided Kate was becoming senile and should retire from the board, she would come up with some stunning insight that would make everyone wonder why he had not thought of it. She was an amazing woman. He thought of their brief, long-ago affair and wondered again why it had ended so abruptly.
It was George Mellis's second visit to Peter Templeton. "Has there been much violence in your past, Mr. Mellis?"
George shook his head. "No. I abhor violence." Make a note of that, you smug sonofabitch. The coroner is going to ask you about that.
"You told me your mother and father never physically punished you."
"That is correct."
"Would you say you were an obedient child?"
Careful. There are traps here. "About average, I suppose."
"The average child usually gets punished at some time or another for breaking the rules of the grown-up world."
George gave him a deprecating smile. "I guess I didn't break any rules."
He's lying, Peter Templeton thought. The question is why? What is he concealing? He recalled the conversation he had had with Dr. Harley after the first session with George Mellis.
"He said he hit his sister-in-law, John, and—"
"Hit her!" John Harley's voice was filled with indignation. "It was butchery, Peter. He smashed her cheekbone, broke her nose and three ribs, and burned her buttocks and the soles of her feet with cigarettes."
Peter Templeton felt a wave of disgust wash over him. "He didn't mention that to me."
"I'll bet he didn't," Dr. Harley snapped. "I told him if he didn't go to you, I was going to report him to the police."
Peter remembered George's words: I feel ashamed. That's why I insisted on coming to see you. So he had lied about that, too.
"Mellis told me his wife is suffering from depression, that she's talking about suicide."
"Yes, I can vouch for that. Alexandra came to see me a few
days ago. I prescribed Wellbutrin. I'm quite concerned about her. What's your impression of George Mellis?"
Peter said slowly, "I don't know yet. I have a feeling he's dangerous."
Dr. Keith Webster was unable to get Eve Blackwell out of his mind. She was like a beautiful goddess, unreal and untouchable. She was outgoing and vivacious and stimulating, white he was shy and dull and drab. Keith Webster had never married, because he had never found a woman he felt was unworthy enough to be his wife. Apart from his work, his self-esteem was negligible. He had grown up with a fiercely domineering mother and a weak, bullied father. Keith Webster's sexual drive was low, and what little there was of it was sublimated in his work. But now he began to dream about Eve Blackwell, and when he recalled the dreams in the morning, he was embarrassed. She was completely healed and there was no reason for him to see her anymore, yet he knew he had to see her.
He telephoned her at her apartment. "Eve? This is Keith Webster. I hope I'm not disturbing you. I—er—I was thinking about you the other day, and I—I was just wondering how you were getting along?"
"Fine, thank you, Keith. How are you getting along?" There was that teasing note in her voice again.
"Jus—just fine," he said. There was a silence. He summoned up his nerve. "I guess you're probably too busy to have lunch with me."
Eve smiled to herself. He was such a deliciously timid little man. It would be amusing. "I'd love to, Keith."
"Would you really?" She could hear the note of surprise in his voice. "When?"
"What about tomorrow?"
"It's a date." He spoke quickly, before she could change her mind.
Eve enjoyed the luncheon. Dr. Keith Webster acted like a young schoolboy in love. He dropped bis napkin, spilled his wine and knocked over a vase of flowers. Watching him, Eve thought with amusement, No one would ever guess what a brilliant surgeon he is.
When the luncheon was over, Keith Webster asked shyly, "Could we—could we do this again sometime?"
She replied with a straight face, "We'd better not, Keith. I'm afraid I might fall in love with you."
He blushed wildly, not knowing what to say.
Eve patted his hand. "I'll never forget you."
He knocked over the vase of flowers again.
John Harley was having lunch at the hospital cafeteria when Keith Webster joined him.
Keith said, "John, I promise to keep it confidential, but I'd feel a lot better if you told me the truth about what happened to Eve Blackwell."
Harley hesitated, then shrugged. "All right. It was her brother-in-law, George Mellis."
And Keith Webster felt that now he was sharing a part of Eve's secret world.
George Mellis was impatient. "The money is there, the will has been changed— What the hell are we waiting for?"
Eve sat on the couch, her long legs curled up under her, watching him as he paced.
"I want to get this thing over with, Eve."
He's losing his nerve, Eve thought. He was like a deadly coiled snake. Dangerous. She had made a mistake with him once by goading him too far, and it had almost cost her her life. She would not make that mistake again.
"I agree with you," she said slowly. "I think it's time."
He stopped pacing. "When?"
"Next week."
The session was almost over and George Mellis had not once mentioned his wife. Now, suddenly he said, "I'm worried about
Alexandra, Dr. Templeton. Her depression seems to be worse. Last night she kept talking about drowning. I don't know what to do."
"I spoke to John Harley. He's given her some medication he thinks will help her."
"I hope so, Doctor," George said earnestly. "I couldn't stand it if anything happened to her."
And Peter Templeton, his ear attuned to the unspoken words, had the uneasy feeling he was witnessing a charade. There was a deadly violence in this man. "Mr. Mellis, how would you describe your past relationships with women?"
"Normal."
"Did you ever get angry with any of them, lose your temper?"
George Mellis saw where the questions were leading. "Never." I'm too damned smart for you, Doc. "I told you, I don't believe in violence."
It was butchery, Peter. He smashed her cheekbone, broke her nose and three ribs, and burned her buttocks and the soles of her feet with cigarettes.
"Sometimes," Peter said, "to some people violence provides a necessary outlet, an emotional release."
"I know what you mean. I have a friend who beats up whores."
I have a friend. An alarm signal. "Tell me about your friend."
"He hates prostitutes. They're always trying to rip him off. So when he finishes with them, he roughs them up a little—just to teach them a
lesson." He looked at Peter's face, but saw no disapproval there. Emboldened, George went on. "I remember once he and I were in Jamaica together. This little black hooker took him up to a hotel room, and after she got his pants off, she told him she wanted more money." George smiled. "He beat the shit out of her. I'll bet she won't try that on anyone again."
He's psychotic, Peter Templeton decided. There was no friend, of course. He was boasting about himself, hiding behind an alter ego. The man was a megalomaniac, and a dangerous one.
Peter decided he had better have another talk with John Har-ley as quickly as possible.
The two men met for lunch at the Harvard Club. Peter Tem-pleton was in a difficult position. He needed to get all the information he could about George Mellis without breaching the confidentiality of the doctor-patient relationship.
"What can you tell me about George Mellis's wife?" he asked Harley.
"Alexandra? She's lovely. I've taken care of her and her sister, Eve, since they were babies." He chuckled. "You hear about identical twins, but you never really appreciate what that means until you see those two together."
Peter asked slowly, 'They're identical twins?"
"Nobody could ever tell them apart. They used to play all kinds of pranks when they were little tykes. I remember once when Eve was sick and supposed to get a shot, I somehow wound up giving it to Alexandra." He took a sip of his drink. "It's amazing. Now they're grown up, and I still can't tell one from the other."
Peter thought about that. "You said Alexandra came to see you because she was feeling suicidal."
"That's right."
"John, how do you know it was Alexandra?"
"That's easy," Dr. Harley said. "Eve still has a little scar on her forehead from the surgery after the beating George Mellis gave her."
So that was a blind alley. "I see."
"How are you getting along with Mellis?"
Peter hesitated, wondering how much he could say. "I haven't reached him. He's hiding behind a facade. I'm trying to break it down."
"Be careful, Peter. If you want my opinion, the man's insane." He was remembering Eve lying in bed, in a pool of blood.
"Both sisters are heir to a large fortune, aren't they?" Peter asked.
Now it was John Harley's turn to hesitate. "Well, it's private family business," he said, "but the answer is no. Their grandmother cut off Eve without a dime. Alexandra inherits everything."
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