Judging Time

16

A hard icy rain fell steadily at seven-thirty when Jason pushed through the small stakeout of reporters still encamped in front of Rick Liberty's building. There were fewer than the night before, but they were just as persistent under their umbrellas and tents. Several called out questions to Jason, but he didn't even turn to see who was talking, just shook his head.

Upstairs in the apartment, Patrice from the restaurant was serving drinks and food to several of Rick's friends, but it was Rick who opened the door. "Thanks for coming," he said. He took Jason's coat and stepped around some recent florist shop deliveries to hang it in the closet.

"Wow, this is something," Jason murmured. The large space was crowded, filled with plants and floral arrangements, some not even opened yet. Most of those that had been set out on the floor and tables were white. Lilies, tulips, roses, baby's breath, carnations, bonsai of azalea, blossoming branches. A stack of gift and condolence cards sat on a table. It was a stunning display.

"Yes, isn't it crazy?"

Voices drifted in from another room. Jason noticed the buffet set up in the dining room and a well-stocked bar on a living-room table. He longed for a drink. "Am I interrupting?"

"No." Rick waved his hand at the doors to the library. "There are a few people here. They're eating and watching TV. I haven't the heart for it. Come in here."

Jason followed him into the living room, sat on the long white sofa, and put his briefcase down on the floor beside him.

"How about a drink?" Rick asked.

"Club soda. I can get it."

"No, no. That's my job. How about something to eat? Do me a favor and eat something."

Jason shook his head. "Not right now, thanks."

"You're too easy." Rick went to get the drink and returned in a moment with a heavy crystal glass for Jason and nothing for himself. "Jason, the police are going to release Merrill's body tomorrow. Her parents want to bury her in Massachussets on Thursday. I know it's a hassle, but will you and Emma be able to go to the funeral?"

Jason did not show his dismay at another workday lost. "Of course we'll come. I know Emma wouldn't want to miss it."

"Thanks, it means a lot to me." Rick frowned as Jason took a new spiral notebook out of his briefcase and opened it.

"What's that for?"

"I wish I could say it's my security blanket, but I'm here partly on business."

"Business?"

"Yes." Jason took a swig of club soda and wished it were a scotch. "The police have contacted me about you."

Liberty stared at him. "No kidding."

"Rick, I want to tell you right up front that I know and trust and respect you very much. I also care about you a great deal. To Emma and me you are family."

Rick gave him an ironic smile. "Thank you, Jason. I love you and Emma, too. Why did the police call you?"

"I also happen to believe that you are a victim of some kind of bizarre, kafkaesque web of terrible events."

Rick's eyes stayed on the notebook. "What's going on, Jason?"

"The police have asked me to do a psychological profile of you, Rick."

Rick barked out a surprised laugh. His discomfort gave it a hollow sound. "What for, do the police always dig around to this degree?"

"I have the impression that the police do an in-depth check of every suspect in a crime they're investigating. It's like working up a business plan."

Rick shook his head. "But why you?"

"There's a connection between me and the investigating officer, April Woo. And also between her and Emma. You know, Emma was abducted last spring."

"Yes, . Merrill and I were out of town when it happened. But I have an idea how bad it was for both of you." He looked as if he wanted to say more, but stopped there.

"April was the detective who saved her life. I owe her."

"Jason, would you like a real drink?"

"I would, but I won't. . . . April came to my office today to ask for my professional opinion of your character. I told her I could give my personal opinion, but I could never do a' professional assessment without your approval."

Rick rubbed his chin and seemed shocked to find unshaven stubble there. "All this astonishes me. I don't know what to say."

"In spite of my bias in favor of you, I would be working as an agent for the police. The disadvantage of the bias is that eventually, the police may ask someone else to do another. The advantage of my doing one now is that the alternative will most certainly be someone who may not have the warm feelings for you that I do."

Rick flashed another ironic smile. "Well, with such a recommendation I don't see how I could refuse. How is it done?"

"You've never had psychological testing before?"

"I've had intelligence tests, ' neurological tests, X rays, even an MRI scan of my brain. I did that for Merrill."

"Oh, really, why?"

Rick hesitated. "I suppose you're going to ask about brain injuries, concussions, blackouts. My—so-called temper, all that?"

Jason nodded. "And incidents of violence in your childhood. "

"There were none."

"I'm going to ask you for your whole family history, which will include questions about any family member who heard voices, broke down, or was ever institutionalized or hospitalized. I'm going to ask about substance abuse, violence, if anybody's gone to jail." Jason sighed.

"I don't know about my father, so I can't answer all your questions about his side of the family," Rick said quietly.

"You may not think you know a lot of things, Rick, but you'd know if someone in the family went to jail for killing a man in a bar fight. You'd know about physical abuse. You'd have seen or heard it."

"I had an aunt who committed suicide," he said softly. "My grandmother was raped by a white man when she was thirteen. I'm not supposed to know it. But I do. She wasn't yet fourteen when my mother was born."

Jason wrote it down. "And I'm going to ask you about your headaches and your temper. Let's start with your grandmother/'