The Underground Man

8

Judge Washburn adjusted his glasses, picked up a paper from his bench, and squinted at it. “This is a hearing in the case of one Jack Walsh. Application has been made to declare Jack Walsh incompetent and have Rose Tindel and Jason Tindel named conservators. The Tindels are represented by Robert Franklyn. Mr. Franklyn, are your parties in court?”

Franklyn, slim, tall, carefully groomed and impeccably dressed in a three-piece suit, smiled, bowed and said, “Yes, Your Honor.” He turned and gestured to Jason and Rose Tindel.

Franklyn’s clients had been well coached. The Tindels oozed respectability. They were dressed neatly, conservatively. Their expressions radiated a mixture of frank sincerity and benevolent concern.

“And who are the parties with them?” Judge Washburn asked.

Franklyn indicated a couple sitting next to the Tindels, similarly dressed but slightly younger. “That would be their cousins, Fred and Pat Grayson.” He indicated a somewhat severe looking older woman. “Claire Chesterton.” Moving down the row. “And Carl Jenson.”

Judge Washburn nodded. “And on the other side we have …” He referred to his paper, “… a Mr. Steve Winslow appearing as attorney for Jack Walsh.”

Steve rose and bowed to the judge.

Judge Washburn hesitated a moment before proceeding. Steve smiled. With long hair, blue jeans, corduroy jacket and bright red tie, he was the only one in the courtroom who looked slightly out of place.

Judge Washburn said, “Mr. Winslow has filed a writ of habeas corpus ordering that Jack Walsh be produced in court.” Washburn turned to Franklyn. “Is Mr. Walsh here?”

“He is not, Your Honor,” Franklyn said. “Mr. Walsh is in Bellevue hospital. He suffered a nervous breakdown, and is presently in no condition to appear in court. I have the admitting psychiatrist from Bellevue here to testify to that effect.”

Judge Washburn nodded again. “I see. Mr. Winslow’s petition states that Mr. Walsh is being held at Bellevue against his will. He asks that that commitment be set aside and the petitioner released.”

“That is utter nonsense,” Franklyn said. “He is not being held against his will. He is a sick man, entrusted to the care of competent physicians. He has been placed there by caring family members, attempting to see that his best interests are protected.”

“This complaint alleges that Jack Walsh was hauled off the subway, incarcerated at Bellevue, and denied access to his attorney. Furthermore, the complaint alleges that Jack Walsh is medically and emotionally sound, and that there is no reason whatsoever for his commitment.”

Franklyn’s smile was frosty. “May I ask if Mr. Winslow’s contention is borne out by the opinion of a reputable psychiatrist?”

Winslow’s smile was equally cold. “May I ask how one is expected to obtain such an opinion when one is denied access to one’s client?”

Judge Washburn held up his hand. “Gentlemen, this is not a debate. Let’s try to move things along. Now, I note the commitment papers were signed by one Jason Tindel. Let’s hear from him first. Jason Tindel take the stand.”

Jason Tindel got up, looked at the other relatives who nodded encouragement. He walked to the witness stand, and sat.

“Does Your Honor wish me to question the witness?” Franklyn said.

“I’ll ask the questions,” Judge Washburn said. He turned to the witness. “Mr. Tindel, what is your relationship to the petitioner, Jack Walsh?”

“My wife is his great-niece. She is the granddaughter of his sister.”

Judge Washburn frowned. “Has he no closer living relatives?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“I see. And you have signed the commitment papers, placing Jack Walsh in Bellevue, and are seeking to have him declared incompetent and you and Rose Tindel named conservators. Is that correct?”

“That’s right.”

“What grounds do you have for feeling that Jack Walsh is not competent to carry on his own affairs?”

Jason Tindel chuckled, shook his head. “I have so many, Your Honor, I don’t know where to begin. Jack Walsh was once a very sharp man. But he’s seventy-five, and I’m sorry to say, recently his mind is going.”

“Could you give me examples?”

“I certainly could.” Jason Tindel ticked the points off on his fingers. “Within the last year he’s estranged himself from all his relatives. He’s sold his house out from under him and gone to live on the subway with the bums and bag ladies.”

Judge Washburn frowned. “On the subway, Mr. Tindel?”

“That’s right, Your Honor.”

“And how do you know this?”

“For one thing, he told us. When he left, I mean. He told us that was what he was going to do. For another thing, I saw him myself.”

“And when was that?”

“Shortly after he moved out. I saw him on the street. I must say, it was quite a shock. He was dressed in rags like a bum. Naturally, I followed him to see what he was up to. And he went down in the subway and hung out with the bums on the platform.”

“I see,” Judge Washburn said. “Was there anything else?”

“Yes, Your Honor. He’s also withdrawn over two hundred thousand dollars in cash from his bank account.”

Judge Washburn raised his eyebrows. “Two hundred thousand?”

“That’s right.”

“And what did he do with this money?”

Jason Tindel shrugged. “As far as I know, he’s been carrying it on him.”

“Two hundred thousand in cash?”

“That’s right. The man is a millionaire, Your Honor. Yet he dresses like a bum, lives on the subway, and is carrying large sums of money in cash around with him. Under the circumstances, much as we hated to do it, we felt we had to take what steps we could in order to conserve his estate.”

“I see,” Judge Washburn said. He looked at Franklyn. “Do you have anything further to add?”

Mr. Franklyn smiled. “No, Your Honor. I think the witness has stated the case quite admirably.”

Washburn nodded. “Mr. Winslow?”

Judge Washburn watched with some interest when Steve Winslow arose. The witness had certainly left the young attorney enough openings. Jason Tindel’s testimony, while devastating, was certainly a mass of opinions and conclusions. Tindel didn’t know that Jack Walsh carried large sums of money on him. Tindel didn’t know Jack Walsh lived on the subway-he’d only seen him there once. Judge Washburn expected Steve Winslow to rip into him on those points.

Steve didn’t. He merely smiled and said, “And what do you do, Mr. Tindel?”

The witness was clearly unprepared for that question. He frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“What’s your job? Your occupation? What do you do?”

Jason Tindel cleared his throat. “At the moment I’m between jobs.”

“You mean you’re unemployed?”

“I don’t mean I’m unemployed. I’m between jobs.”

“Are you employed?”

“No.”

“Then you’re unemployed, aren’t you?”

Tindel frowned again. “I’m not employed at the moment.”

“I understand. Are you collecting unemployment insurance?”

“No.”

“Have you applied for unemployment insurance?”

“No.”

“Do you intend to apply for unemployment insurance?”

Franklyn arose. “Your Honor, I fail to see the point of this.”

“Surely the interest of the parties is relevant,” Steve said.

“It is,” Judge Washburn said. “As you well know,” he added with a glance at Franklyn. “Proceed, Mr. Winslow.”

“Do you intend to apply for unemployment insurance?”

“No, I do not.”

“Are you eligible for unemployment insurance?”

Tindel took a breath. “No.”

“I see,” Steve said. “As I understand it, in order to be eligible for unemployment insurance, you must have worked twenty-six weeks out of the last year. Am I correct in assuming you haven’t done that?”

Franklyn was on his feet again. “I point out, Your Honor, to qualify you must work twenty-six weeks for an employer who is paying FICA wages and withholding unemployment insurance. Many people are self-employed or work other jobs which don’t qualify.”

“Exactly,” Jason Tindel snapped. “I happen to be self-employed, so the questions really don’t apply.”

“Oh, you’re self-employed, Mr. Tindel?”

“Yes, I am.”

Steve Winslow smiled. “So we come back to my original question. What do you do?”

“I’m a consultant.”

“A rather broad field, Mr. Tindel. With whom do you consult?”

“I am employed by various firms.”

“Name one.”

“What?”

“Name one firm you’ve worked for in the past year.”

“In the past year?”

“Yes.”

Jason Tindel frowned. “Well, now …”

“And what is your field, Mr. Tindel?” Steve put in. “What do you consult on?”

“The stock market.”

“Ah,” Steve said. “The stock market. And are you a stock broker, Mr. Tindel?”

“No, I’m not.”

“No, I didn’t think so,” Steve said. “So, you give people advice on the stock market. If that advice pans out, you’ve got a nice tip coming. Is that right?”

“No, it isn’t,” Tindel said hotly.

“Oh? In what way is it wrong?”

“Well, it’s … Well, damn it. You just make me sound like a race track tout.”

“I certainly beg your pardon, Mr. Tindel,” Steve said. “I don’t know how anyone could have possibly have gotten that impression.

“Let me ask you something. You stated that Jack Walsh’s estate is worth several million dollars?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re attempting to have Jack Walsh declared incompetent?”

“That’s right.”

“And yourself and your wife named conservators?”

“Yes.”

“And in the event that that happens, you and your wife will suddenly find yourself in control of several million dollars?”

Jason Tindel said nothing. He merely glared at him.

“Well,” Steve said. “That’s certainly a nice position for someone who’s unemployed to find himself in.” Steve shrugged. “No further questions.”

Judge Washburn looked at the witness. Then at Franklyn. “Have you anything further with this witness?”

“No, Your Honor,” Franklyn said.

“Very well,” Judge Washburn said. He referred to the paper. “Now, at the time of his incarceration, Mr. Walsh was observed in the subway station by Mr. Fred Grayson. I think we’ll hear from him next.”

Fred Grayson seated himself on the stand. Once again, Judge Washburn took up the questioning.

“Mr. Grayson, what is your relationship with the petitioner, Jack Walsh?”

“My wife is also his great-niece. She is the granddaughter of his brother.”

“I see. Now on the afternoon in question you observed the petitioner, Jack Walsh, on the subway?”

“Actually, first I saw him on the street.”

“Where?”

“On 34th Street, between Madison and Fifth Avenue.”

“What was he doing?”

“Ah, walking along.”

“What did you do?”

“I followed him.”

“Where did he go?”

“He walked east to Park Avenue, down a block to 33rd Street, and went into the subway.”

“What did he do there?”

“Well, there were some bums with blankets camped out at the far end of the station. He walked down there and began talking with them.”

“What did you do?”

“There was a pay phone in the station. I called Jason Tindel, told him to rush the papers over.”

“The commitment papers?”

“That’s right.”

“How is it you had commitment papers ready?”

“Jason and I had previously approached a doctor at Bellevue Hospital and apprised him of the situation. He drew up the papers, and told us if we could locate Jack Walsh, he would have him brought in for observation.”

“So you called Jason Tindel and told him to bring the papers?”

“That’s right.”

“What happened then?”

“I stayed in the station, keeping my eye on Jack Walsh. About forty-five minutes later Jason showed up with two hospital orderlies. They served the papers on Jack and took him off to Bellevue.”

“Did he object?”

“Yes, he did.”

“How?”

“Screaming, kicking. He was like a wild man.”

“How did the orderlies subdue him?”

“With a straightjacket.”

“Jack Walsh was taken to Bellevue in a straightjacket?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you accompany him to Bellevue?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Along with Jason Tindel?”

“That’s right.”

“What happened there?”

“A psychiatrist examined him and ordered him committed.”

“Was the examination done in your presence?”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Judge Washburn frowned. “I think that’s all. Do you have anything else, Mr. Franklyn?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Mr. Winslow?”

“Yes. Mr. Grayson, are you employed?”

“Yes, I am.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a diamond broker.”

“Is that right? Where is your place of business?”

“I operate out of my own home.”

“And where is that?”

“Teaneck, New Jersey.”

“Teaneck, New Jersey? Is that also the home of Jason Tindel?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Now, when you say a diamond broker-that means you sell diamonds?”

“That’s right.”

“But a diamond broker’s different than a diamond merchant, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“In what way?”

“A diamond merchant sells gems. A diamond broker arranges sales.”

“I see. In other words, you don’t sell your own gems?”

“No.”

“You have no stock or inventory? No diamonds of your own?”

“That’s right.”

“You find a person who wants to buy diamonds, and another person who wants to sell diamonds, and you act as a middleman?”

“Yes.”

“Now you say you conduct your business out of your own home?”

“That’s right.”

“Which is Teaneck, New Jersey?”

“That’s right.”

“Is that the same place you were conducting your business from a year ago?”

“No, it is not.”

“And where were you conducting your business from then?”

“Great Neck.”

“That’s also where you were living?”

“That’s right.”

“Is that also where Jason Tindel was living?”

“That’s right.”

“The place in Great Neck, where you and Jason Tindel were living and where you were conducting business-was that also the house of the petitioner Jack Walsh?”

“That’s right.”

“How long had you been living there?”

“For twelve years.”

“I see. So when Jack Walsh sold the house out from under himself, he also sold it out from under you and Jason Tindel, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, had you ever paid any rent on the house in Great Neck?”

“No.”

“You’d been living there for twelve years, and never paid any rent?”

“Uncle Jack wouldn’t charge his relatives rent.”

“I see. But you are paying rent on the house in Teaneck?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Gee,” Steve said. “After twelve years of not paying any rent at all, that must be a considerable shock. Tell me something-if Jason and Rose Tindel are declared conservators of Jack Walsh’s estate-would you stop paying rent then?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never discussed that matter with them?”

“No, I did not.”

“The matter ever cross your mind?”

After a pause, the witness said, “No.”

“Then you have no interest whatsoever in the outcome of this hearing?” Steve said.

“I want to see that Uncle Jack’s interests are protected.”

“By protected you mean placed in the hands of Jason and Rose Tindel? The people with whom you have not discussed whether this action would enable you to stop paying rent?” Steve smiled. “Thank you. I have no further questions, Your Honor.”

“That’s all Mr. Grayson,” Judge Washburn said. He glanced at his notes. “It is at this point that I would like to question the petitioner. Unfortunately, he’s unavailable. Now, Mr. Franklyn, you say you have a psychiatrist here to testify to that effect?”

“That’s right. A Dr. Gerald Feldspar. He is on the staff at Bellevue Hospital, and is the doctor who admitted Jack Walsh.”

“Very well. Dr. Feldspar take the stand.”

Dr. Feldspar turned out to be a plump little man, some sixty years old. He wore thick-lensed glasses, and had a rather pompous manner. He bustled up to the witness stand, sat down, pushed his glasses back on his nose, and peered up at the judge in a manner that bordered on insolence.

“You name is Dr. Gerald Feldspar?”

“That’s right.”

“What is you occupation?”

“I am a psychiatrist at Bellevue Hospital.”

“Are you acquainted with Jack Walsh, the petitioner in this action?”

“I am. He is a patient in my care.”

“At Bellevue Hospital?”

“That is correct.”

“How long has he been there?”

“He was brought in two days ago.”

“And you were the doctor who admitted him?”

“That’s right.”

“Could you describe the circumstances under which you committed the petitioner?”

“Certainly. It was about three in the afternoon. I was summoned to my office with the news that a patient had been brought in. I arrived to find that two hospital orderlies had brought in the subject. He was a white male, some seventy-five years of age. He was unshaved, uncombed, unwashed, dressed in close to rags. He was disoriented, irrational, incoherent. He was also violent and had been subdued by a straightjacket.”

“What did you do?”

“I attempted to calm him down and reason with him. Which was, I’m afraid, next to impossible. Upon examination I discovered the subject to be a paranoid schizophrenic with psychopathic tendencies. In, I might add, a very advanced state.”

“You ordered him committed at that time?”

“I did.”

Judge Washburn picked up a paper from his bench. “Doctor, are you aware that his attorney has filed a writ of habeas corpus, asking that the petitioner, Jack Walsh, be released, and that the court has issued a ruling to the effect that he be produced at this hearing?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then why is he not here?”

“He is not competent to be here, Your Honor.”

“I understand your contention. Could you elaborate?”

“Yes, Your Honor. Certainly, Your Honor. As I said, the patient is confused and disoriented. He also suffers from delusions of persecution. His advanced state of paranoia makes the patient very hard to reach. It also makes him violent. I have no doubt that given time we will be able to help him to some degree, but at the present time he is a danger to himself and to others. At any rate, his presence here in court would serve no purpose. He is not competent to understand these proceedings, let alone take part in them. To bring him into court now would only confuse and frighten him, and deepen his neurosis, and make our job of reaching him that much harder.”

“I see,” Judge Washburn said. “Mr. Franklyn. Have you anything to add?”

Franklyn rose. “Just a couple of questions, Your Honor. I’d like to make one point clear. Dr. Feldspar, did I notify you of the court order to produce the petitioner at this hearing?”

“Yes, you did.”

“As well as the habeas corpus served on Jason Tindel?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Did Jason Tindel also inform you of that fact?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Then the fact that Jack Walsh is not here in court has nothing to do with any failure on my part or on Jason Tindel’s part to comply with the habeas corpus, is that right?”

“Absolutely. Mr. Walsh is not here for medical reasons, as I have testified.”

“Thank you, Doctor. That’s all.”

Judge Washburn said, “Mr. Winslow?”

Steve Winslow took his time. He rose slowly, walked around the table, stopped, and looked around the courtroom. First at the judge, then at Franklyn, then at Mark Taylor and Tracy Garvin, who were seated just behind his table, then at the relatives, and finally at Dr. Feldspar.

“Medical reasons?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“By that you mean psychiatric reasons?”

“That’s correct.”

Steve chuckled softly and shook his head. “Well now, Dr. Feldspar, I must say I have some trouble following this.” Steve gestured around the courtroom. “This is a competency hearing. The purpose of this hearing, as I understand it, is to determine whether or not Jack Walsh is competent. And yet, here you are, testifying that he’s not competent to take part in it.”

“That happens to be the case.”

“I understand your contention. It just seems like something out of Joseph Heller, doesn’t it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Referring to the novel, Catch 22. You say Jack Walsh isn’t competent. I say he is. I say, O.K., bring him here and we’ll prove it. You say, no I can’t do that. I say, why? You say, because he isn’t competent.” Steve shrugged. “Little bit of a problem there, Doctor. I understand you’re a psychiatrist, but it seems to me you’ve also made yourself judge and jury.”

Dr. Feldspar drew himself up indignantly. “I’ve done nothing of the sort. I’m giving you an expert medical opinion based on the existing facts. Now you may not happen to like it, but it happens to be the case.”

Steve smiled. “Ah, Doctor, interesting word. Opinion. That’s just it. It is your opinion that Jack Walsh is incompetent. It is my opinion that he’s not. So it seems we have a difference of opinion. On the very matter we want the court to decide. Fine. Then let’s discuss it. What is the basis for your opinion, Doctor?”

“I’m afraid as a layman, you couldn’t possibly understand.”

“Well, I’m willing to try. Go ahead, Doctor. Let’s talk diagnosis, prognosis, and the care and feeding of the paranoid schizophrenic.”

“Oh, Your Honor,” Franklyn protested.

“Yes, yes,” Judge Washburn said. “Mr. Winslow, if you could try to avoid such flippancy.”

“Sorry, Your Honor,” Steve said. “All right, Doctor, you ordered Jack Walsh committed. Let’s talk about that. You say you were summoned to your office, you found two orderlies had brought in a man in a straightjacket?”

“That’s right.”

“And was this the petitioner, Jack Walsh?”

“Yes.”

“You examined him and ordered him committed?”

“That’s correct.”

“Tell me about the examination.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What did you do? What tests did you administer that allowed you to conclude that Jack Walsh was insane?”

“I’ve already stated. I attempted to reason with him.”

“Which you could not do?”

“That’s right. The man was violent and abusive. He could not be reached.”

“If you couldn’t reach him, how could you examine him?”

Dr. Feldspar smiled frostily. “Now you’re the one invoking Joseph Heller, Counselor. If the patient is too insane to be examined, he can’t be certified insane?”

Steve smiled. “Touche, Doctor. Are you stating that such was the case?”

“Not at all. I examined him thoroughly before I committed him.”

“So we come back to my original question. How did you examine him?”

“As I said, I tried to reason with him. Unfortunately, he was irrational.”

“So what did you do?”

“I administered certain tests.”

“What sort of tests?”

“I doubt if the specifics are of any relevance.”

“We’ll be the judge of that, Doctor. If we can’t have Jack Walsh here, we’ll have the reason why. Go on. What sort of tests?”

“I tested him for rational thought. Coherence.”

“In what way?”

“Nothing complicated, I assure you,” Dr. Feldspar said. “I administered the type of test that could be understood by a ten-year-old.”

“Such as?”

“Simple word association. I asked him to complete a sentence for me. Again, nothing complicated. I’m talking about simple proverbs, something any ten-year-old child would know.”

“Such as?”

“Well, for instance, a rolling stone gathers no moss.”

“A rolling stone gathers no moss?”

“Yes.”

“You said to Jack Walsh, ‘A rolling stone gathers no moss?’”

Doctor Feldspar shook his head. “No.”

“Oh? I thought you said you did?”

“No, no. You don’t understand. I asked him to complete the phrase. I said to him, ‘A rolling stone.’ His task was to complete the phrase by saying, ‘gathers no moss.’”

“Did he do so?”

“He did not. Despite several opportunities.”

“Jack Walsh never said, ‘gathers no moss?’”

“No.”

“What did he say?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, did he refuse to answer, or did he say something else?”

“He replied with non sequiturs. Irrational and illogical.”

“And abusive?”

“Yes.”

“Generally abusive, or abusive toward you?”

“Both.”

“Ah,” Steve said. “That’s interesting. Let’s talk about the abuse directed toward you. I take it Mr. Walsh made several unflattering remarks?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Perhaps reflecting upon your person?”

“That’s right.”

Steve smiled. “And perhaps a few suggestions, which if taken literally, could have imperiled your physical well-being?”

Dr. Feldspar shifted in his chair. “That is correct,” he snapped.

“I see,” Steve said. “Now, tell me. What other tests did you administer?”

“No other tests.”

“That was all?”

“That was quite sufficient in my opinion.”

“You certified Mr. Walsh insane on the basis of that one test?”

Dr. Feldspar drew himself up indignantly. “I did not. I most certainly did not. You are putting words in my mouth. That was the only test I administered, but that was not the only basis for my certification.”

“Oh? What other basis was there?”

“There were dozens.”

“Such as?”

Dr. Feldspar smiled. “Come, come, Counselor. When a wealthy man chooses to dress in rags and live on the subways with the bums and bag ladies-”

Steve held up his hand. “Whoa. One minute, Doctor. Hold it right there. You don’t know Jack Walsh lived on the subway, do you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You ever see Jack Walsh on the subway?”

“No.”

“Ever observe him hanging out with bums and bag ladies?”

“No.”

“No, I didn’t think so, Doctor. You only know that from what Jason Tindel and Fred Grayson told you, don’t you?”

“Naturally.”

“But that’s hearsay, Doctor. That’s not admissible in a court of law.”

“I’m not a court of law. I’m a qualified psychiatrist.”

“I understand. But we’re in a court of law now, Doctor. And these things must be proven.

“Let’s go back to the commitment of Jack Walsh. Are you saying now you based your commitment of Jack Walsh on things people told you?”

“Certainly not. I based it on my own examination.”

“But you just brought up his living on the subway, something you only learned from Fred Grayson and Jason Tindel.”

“That is a factor. It may not be admissible in a court of law, but it is certainly a factor. I have to weigh all aspects of the situation.”

“I understand. And one of those aspects is the fact that Jason Tindel and Fred Grayson told you Jack Walsh was living on the subway, isn’t it?”

“It’s a factor to be considered.”

“But let me ask you this, Doctor. Suppose I were to offer evidence that Jason Tindel and Fred Grayson were irrational, insane, and not competent to manage their affairs. Would that in any way change your opinion of the sanity of Jack Walsh?”

“That’s absurd.”

“Why is it absurd?”

“Because it isn’t true.”

“Oh? How do you know?”

“Because I’ve talked to both Jason Tindel and Fred Grayson.” Dr. Feldspar pointed. “They’re here in court now. They’re both rational and quite sane.”

“How do you know, Doctor? Did you ever test them? Did you ever go up to them and say, ‘A rolling stone?’”

Dr. Feldspar took a breath. He looked up at the judge. “Your Honor, do I have to put up with this?”

Judge Washburn nodded. “Counsel is perhaps overzealous and unorthodox, but he is within his rights. Continue, Mr. Winslow.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. Doctor, you’re stating unequivocally that Jason Tindel and Fred Grayson are sane?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Based on no clinical examination, but only on your discussions with them?”

“That is enough.”

“Is it, Doctor? Isn’t it possible for an insane man to masquerade as a sane one?”

“It is.”

“Then how do you know this isn’t such a case?”

“I’m a trained psychiatrist. I could not be fooled.”

“Could you be lied to?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Could you be lied to? By a sane man, I mean. Suppose I could prove to you that Fred Grayson and Jason Tindel had every reason to lie to you-the motivation being greed and profit-could you be taken in by a lie?”

“No, I could not.”

“You could not, Doctor?”

“No. If they were lying to me, I would know it.”

“How?”

“As a psychiatrist, I am a trained observer. I can tell when someone is lying.”

“Really, Doctor? Then I can’t understand why you’re here.”

Dr. Feldspar frowned. “What?”

“Yes. I don’t know why someone with your unique talent hasn’t been snapped up by the Pentagon. You’re wasting your time at Bellevue. You should be down in Washington exposing spies and counterspies. Why, the country would never have to worry again.”

Franklyn was on his feet. “Oh, Your Honor.”

“Exactly,” Judge Washburn said. “Mr. Winslow, I have warned you before. There is no jury here, and I am not going to be taken in by such remarks. So there’s no real harm done. But please, let’s try to confine ourselves to the task at hand.”

“Sorry, Your Honor,” Steve said. “But I hope the point is well taken. With regard to the relevance of what Dr. Feldspar may have been told. Would you sustain me on that point?”

“I’ll go further than that,” Judge Washburn said. “Mr. Winslow’s questions may seem facetious, but the central point is not. Doctor, you were ordered to produce the petitioner in court. You declined to do so. Now, in making that decision, you had better have relied on what you personally observed as a trained psychiatrist, and not on what someone told you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Fine. Then try to be responsive to Mr. Winslow’s questions by answering them with what you personally observed.”

“Proceed, Mr. Winslow.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Dr. Feldspar, let’s talk about what you personally observed. So far, you seem to have committed Jack Walsh on the basis of one test. Was there anything else?”

“Of course,” Dr. Feldspar said, irritably. “I started to explain when you went off on a tangent.”

“I beg your pardon. You’ll have every opportunity to explain. In fact, this is just that opportunity. What else did you observe?”

“As I said, the man was irrational, incoherent, and violent.”

“I see,” Steve said. “Now, the irrationality and incoherence you’ve explained as his failure to converse with you or to respond to that particular test. Let’s move on to the violence. In what manner was he violent?”

“He was struggling, kicking, screaming.”

“Two male orderlies were holding him?”

“That’s right.”

“They had just dragged him into your office?”

“Yes.”

“Against his will?”

“That’s right.”

“So,” Steve said. “Tell me something. Does anyone want to be committed, Doctor?”

“Some people do.”

“Yes, I’m sure they do. But the vast majority-do they want to be committed?”

“No.”

“So your average man in the street-if someone grabbed him and dragged him into a mental institution, don’t you think he would be apt to protest?”

“Perhaps.”

“And struggle to free himself?”

“Possibly.”

“So the fact that Jack Walsh was kicking and struggling doesn’t necessarily mean that he was insane, does it, Doctor?”

“As I say, that was not the only factor.”

“What were the other factors, Doctor? Talking only about what you personally observed.”

“Very well,” Dr. Feldspar snapped. ‘I observed a man some seventy-five years of age. He was dressed in rags, or close to it. He was unwashed and his hair was uncombed. It was long hair, long, messy, unkempt. His appearance, to all intents and purposes, was that of a wild man. He was kicking and screaming. He was incoherent, abusive and violent.

“Now then,” Dr. Feldspar said. “I saw all that with my own eyes. And I am a trained clinical psychiatrist. But I must tell you, it would not take a trained clinical psychiatrist to see that the man was insane.

“Now, you can split hairs all you want, but the simple fact of the matter is, Jack Walsh is not a sane man. And nothing you can say is going to make him so.”

“Is that right, Doctor?” Steve said. “Well, let me see if I have this straight. As I understand it, Jack Walsh was dragged into your office by two male orderlies. He attempted to resist this, and was violent, abusive and incoherent. In addition to that, he was wearing shabby clothes and his hair was long and unkempt. Plus he failed to respond correctly to the phrase, ‘A rolling stone.’ Is that right?”

“That is a gross oversimplification-”

“Perhaps it is. But let me ask you this, Doctor. You notice that I have long hair and I’m not particularly well dressed. In the event two hospital orderlies yanked me off the street, clapped me in a straightjacket, hauled me into your office, and while I was kicking and screaming and attempting to free myself, you came up to me and said, ‘A rolling stone,’ are you telling me that if I said ‘gathers no moss,’ you would decide I was sane and set me free? Whereas on the other hand, if you came up to me and said, ‘A rolling stone,’ and I said, ‘Mick Jagger,’ you’d declare me a lunatic and have me committed?”

Dr. Feldspar frowned. “Mick Jagger?”

Steve chuckled, shook his head. “A vague, obscure reference, Doctor. I’m sorry it went over your head.

“At any rate, is that essentially true? If I said, ‘gathers no moss,’ you would set me free, but if I said anything else- perhaps suggested what you could do with your hospital-you would have me committed?”

“That isn’t fair.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Well, maybe not, but I think it’s accurate.” Steve Winslow turned to the judge. “I submit, Your Honor, that this man has shown no basis whatsoever for failing to produce Jack Walsh in court. I demand that he be produced.”

Judge Washburn took a breath. “Dr. Feldspar,” he said. “A court order is not to be taken lightly. I have listened to your testimony carefully. I must say I can find in it no reason to warrant your disobeying the directive of the court. I also feel that your sparring with counsel is profitless to say the least. So I’m going to make another directive. I’m going to stand in recess for half an hour. In that time I expect you to get on the phone to Bellevue Hospital. I expect you to order your staff to get Jack Walsh here by the end of the recess. If he’s truly incompetent to be here, that fact will be readily evident. At any rate, that seems to be the only way to settle the matter. You have half an hour get him here. Court is now in recess.”

Steve Winslow smiled at the judge, then at the doctor. He still had a big smile on his face when he turned to Mark Taylor and Tracy Garvin.

But under his breath he said, “Oh shit.”