The Professional Part 20

Chapter31.

IN THE NEXT couple of days I talked with the rest of the gang of four and learned more than I ever wanted to know about having s.e.x with Gary Eisenhower.

"It was like a rape fantasy sometimes," Nancy said.

"And you didn't mind?" I said.

"No," she said. "I've told you what I'm like."

"So you enjoyed the fantasy," I said.

She was silent a moment. Then, in a small voice, she said, "Yes."

Later I talked with Susan about it.

"None of that seems very enlightening," she said.

"Not to me. I was hoping it would to you."

Susan shook her head.

"About the rape fantasy thing?" I said.

"That was Nancy Sinclair?"

"Yeah."

"I suspect that tells us more about Nancy than it does about Gary," Susan said.

"Maybe he is just what he seems to be," I said.

"A happy-go-lucky c.o.c.khound?" Susan said.

"Yeah," I said. "Don't you ever come across somebody like that in your business?"

"People who are what they seem to be," Susan said, "generally don't seek psychotherapy."

"Good point," I said. "But as far as I can see, this is one of those instances when the cigar is just a cigar."

"Maybe you should talk to Clarice Richardson again," Susan said.

"Because she's smart enough to understand what she may have experienced," I said.

"Yes."

Susan was between patients. I was sitting in her office, across the desk from her. I was silent for a little while. I eyed the couch against the wall to my right.

"Anybody actually lie down on that thing?" I said.

"I believe you and I have," Susan said.

"I mean for therapy."

"You and I have," Susan said.

"Not that kind of therapy," I said.

"Yes," Susan said. "It is kind of a cliche, but some people find it very helpful."

I nodded. Neither of us spoke for a little while.

Then I said, "I can't do it by phone."

"No need," Susan said. "I'm sure she'll see you."

"Care for another trip to Hartland?" I said.

"No," Susan said.

"Two hours out, two hours back," I said.

"An easy day trip," Susan said.

"What about the naked frolic in the Hartland motel?"

"Nothing to stop you," Susan said.

"By myself?"

"Whatever floats your boat . . . snook.u.ms."

Chapter32.

CLARICE RICHARDSON CAME around her desk and shook my hand when I entered her office.

"Come in," she said. "Sit down. I'm glad to see you."

I looked around.

"No campus cop this time," I said.

"You've charmed me into submission," she said.

"Happens all the time," I said.

"I a.s.sume you are still chasing Goran," she said.

"I'm trying to figure him out," I said.

Clarice smiled.

"You, too," she said.

"You mentioned when we talked last that when you were intimate, he seemed very strong."

"Yes," she said.

She smiled and looked away from me out at the now wintry landscape of her college.

"I attributed it to pa.s.sion," she said.

"Susan suggested that it hints of sadism," I said.

"And she thought you should ask me about that?"

"She thinks you're the only one intelligent enough to understand your experience."

Clarice nodded.

"But not intelligent enough to have avoided it."

"n.o.body gets out of here alive," I said.

She nodded.

"I didn't think of it at the time, but perhaps there was something . . . I'm not sure s.a.d.i.s.tic is exactly right . . . but vengeful, perhaps."

I nodded.

"Can you give me an example?" I said.

She blushed.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I made this bed, so to speak. If I have to lie in it, I have to lie in it."

I might not have chosen that metaphor. But maybe if I felt guilty . . .

"He would say things," she said. "When he was . . . in me, he would say things like 'Got you now, don't I?' "

"Say it often?" I said.

"Things like that," she said.

"You think he had some animosity toward women?" I said.

"I never felt it," she said. "But in the circ.u.mstance, I was not at my most a.n.a.lytic, I fear."

"None of us is," I said. "Why do you suppose he had an affair with you?"

Clarice smiled.

"He found me attractive?" she said.

"Almost certainly," I said.

"And available," Clarice said.

"Were you wearing your wedding ring?" I said.

"I was," Clarice said.

"Even though you were, ah, trolling?"

"Maybe I was ambivalent," she said. "Maybe I didn't want to admit to myself I was trolling. Maybe I didn't want to look like an old maid."

"Fat chance," I said.

She smiled faintly.

"Thank you," she said.

"So he knew you were married," I said.

"But not to wealth," she said.

"Maybe the wealth was an afterthought."

She nodded.

"The thing is," Clarice said, "in an odd way, Eric and I owe this man a great deal. If I had not been with him, and if he had not tried to blackmail me, I don't think either Eric or I would have found the strength to get help with our problems . . . nor to solve them."

"But you did," I said.