Shock to the system

13

I parted company with the Cebulkas around nine and headed back into Albany. I told them I might need to be in touch again and they said fine. Gene said next time I should bring the wife along. I let it go.

Following the revelation about Moody and Stover, not previously known to be a pair, I'd asked Cebulka about the session where Bierly and Haig had walked out of therapy amid a crossfire of recriminations. But Cebulka remembered the event only hazily and said Crockwell's outburst, while unusual, didn't have any lasting effects. After Haig and Bierly left, the group just picked up and proceeded without them.

Visiting hours at Albany Med were over, so I'd have to wait until morning to talk to Larry Bierly. I went home and called my machine. Nothing from Crockwell or Finnerty, but Phyllis Haig had left a minute's worth of breathy pauses and slurred imprecations.

While Timmy read a travel book called Around the World by Yak and Kayak, by Maynard Sudbury, one of the Peace Corps old boys Timmy knew from his long-ago but fondly remembered days in Andhra Pradesh, I tried to reach Roland Stover and Dean Moody, the only two surviving members of the therapy group I hadn't met yet.

I got no answer at the number I had for Moody, but just as I was about to hang up, a man breathing hard picked up the phone at Roland Stover's residence.

"Yes?"

"Is this Roland Stover?"

"Yes, and who is this?" He sounded tense and mean, fitting the consensus description I had.

"Hi, Roland, I'm Don Strachey, an investigator doing some work that might be of assistance to Dr. Vernon Crockwell. Dr. Crockwell didn't give me your name, but it was provided by another member of the psychotherapy group you were in. Could we get together some time soon so that I could ask you a couple of questions about the group? Dr. Crockwell might be having some legal problems, and there's a chance you could shed some light on the situation."

"What kind of legal problems?" Stover growled. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, if we could sit down over a cup of coffee-"

"And who has the right to give you my name? That is a breach of medical confidentiality, and I demand to know this minute who gave you my name!"

"Larry Bierly did. He thought if I talked to you, Roland, I might come away with some insights into Dr. Crockwell's therapy group and who his friends and enemies in it are."

"I can tell you right now," Stover snapped, "that I am Vernon Crockwell's friend and Larry Bierly is his number-one enemy. Anyway, I heard on TV that somebody shot Larry, so how did you get my name from him?"

"He gave it to me before he was shot."

"Is he dead?"

"No. It looks as though he'll recover."

"Too bad. Sorry to hear it. Did you know Larry was an unrepentant sexual deviant?"

"I'm aware that he did not successfully complete Vernon Crockwell's course of therapy. But you did, I understand."

"Yes, I did. Dr. Crockwell along with the Holy Scriptures saved me from a life of moral corruption."

"I'd like to hear about that, and whatever additional information you'd be willing to share about Dr. Crockwell's mission. Could we meet somewhere?"

A pause. "Did you say you're a private investigator?"

"Yes, I am."

"Who is employing you?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't divulge that. My client must remain anonymous for now. I can tell you, however, that in this matter and many others I have a strong interest in moral truth." I was looking across the room at Timmy, whose eyes came up from his book.

"Well, what exactly are you investigating?" Stover said. "Devi-ancy?"

"That might play a part in it. Incidentally, there's another member of the Crockwell therapy group I haven't been able to get hold of. Are you in touch with Dean Moody, by chance?"

"Yes, I'm in touch with Dean."

"Perhaps we could all get together and I could pick your brains-I mean yours and Dean's-about deviancy. For this investigative study I'm doing." Timmy placed his book in his lap and watched me.

"Well, then, what about tomorrow after work?" Stover said. "I'm a sales associate at Wal-Mart on Route 4, and I get home around five-thirty." He gave me his Albany address.

"I'd be pleased to drop by then," I said. "I hope Dean can make it too."

"I'll have to check with him," Stover said, and hung up.

Timmy said, "Wasn't that a little misleading?"

"Yep."

"Which one were you talking to?"

I said it was Roland Stover, and I described Stover and Dean Moody and their feverish homophobia and their apparent status as a twosome of some sort.

"Do you think maybe they killed Paul Haig?"

"No, probably not."

"Or shot Larry Bierly?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it. It's possible they did one or the other, or both crimes, assuming Paul Haig's death was even a crime, which hasn't been established. But so far I'd have to say I doubt either Stover or Moody was involved in either event. They both sound hateful and deranged enough to hurt people badly, maybe even physically. But so far there's no real connection I've heard about between either of them and Paul and Larry, except for two things: in the group they had hissy fits over Paul's and Larry's gay-and-proud departure, and of course there's their glee over the death and misfortune of the two brazen sodomites. But they don't act guilty of actual murder or assault. They're completely open and unashamed about their hatreds, and they're probably no more than a couple of obnoxious gasbags. People like that can be psychopathic killers-I know, it wouldn't be unprecedented-and I'm going to stay alert and open to the possibility. But what I'm really after now is a clearer picture of Crockwell, Paul Haig, Phyllis Haig, and Larry Bierly and some weird dynamic among them that none of them has been forthcoming about. I think that's where the key lies to Paul Haig's death-whether it was murder or suicide-and maybe to Larry Bierly's getting shot. And it seems this Steven St. James-Mr. You-Don't-Want-to-Know-fits in somewhere too. Though as to where, beats me."

"So tomorrow you're meeting this Stover thug posing as an investigator on deviancy?"

"Something like that."

"I could come along and vouch for your interest in the subject."

"Right, and my expertise."

"If he asked about your scholarship, I could say, 'His life is his treatise.' "

"You don't really want to come along, do you? This is all in jest."

"No," he said, "I don't want to get anywhere near Stover or Moody. They may not be as interesting and mysterious and murky in their motives as Crockwell and Bierly and the Haigs and this other guy, but they do sound truly dangerous."

"Maybe you're right. I'm not sure what to think. Bierly is conscious now. I'll talk to him tomorrow. That might help."

"Maybe he'll shed some light."

"Yes," I said, "if shedding light is anything he really wants to come out of all this. Nailing Crockwell at any cost seems to be his main aim. Nobody really seems to want to shed light, and I've got to find out why." end user