"McGee's out now. He's been in town here.Did you know that?"

"Dolly told me this morning. It's oneof the many severe pressures on her. You can understand how a sensitive childbrought up in an atmosphere of violence and instability would be plagued byanxiety and guilt. The worst guilt often arises when a child is forced, bysheer instinctive self-preservation, to turn against her parents. A clinicalpsychologist I work with helped Dolly to express her feelings in clay anddoll-play and so on. There wasn't too much I could do for her myself, sincechildren don't have the mental equipment to be analyzed. But I did try toassume the role of the calm and patient father, provide some of the stabilitythat was missing in her young life. And she was doing pretty well, until thedisaster occurred."

"You mean the murder?"

He swung his head in sorrow. "McGeeworked himself into a self-pitying rage one night, came to the aunt's house inIndian Springs where they were staying, and shot Constance through the head.Dolly was alone in the house with her mother. She heard the shot and saw McGeetaking off. Then she discovered the body."

His head went on swinging slowly like aheavy silent bell. I said:

"What was her reaction at thetime?"

"I don't know. One of the peculiardifficulties of my work is that I often have to perform a public function withprivate means. I can't go out and lasso patients. Dolly never came back to me.She no longer had her mother to bring her in from the Valley, and Miss Jenks,her aunt, is a busy woman."

"But didn't you say that Alice Jenkssuggested treatment for Dolly in the first place?"

"She did. She also paid for it.Perhaps with all the trouble in the family she felt she couldn't afford it anylonger. At any rate, I didn't see Dolly again until last night, with oneexception. I went to court the day she testified against McGee. As a matter offact I bearded the judge in his chambers and told him that it shouldn't beallowed. But she was a key witness, and they had her aunt's permission, andthey put her through her sad little paces. She acted like a pale littleautomaton lost in a world of hostile adults."

His large body trembled with feeling. Hishands burrowed under his smock, searching for a cigarette. I gave him one andlit it, and lit one for myself.

"What did she say in court?"

"It was very short and simple. Isuspect that she was thoroughly rehearsed. She heard the shot and looked outher bedroom window and saw her father running away with the gun in his hand.One other question had to do with whether McGee had threatened Constance withbodily harm. He had. That was all."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. This isn't my unaidedrecollection, as they say. I took written notes at the time, and I scanned themthis morning."

"Why?"

"They're part of her history,evidently a crucial part." He blew out smoke and looked at me through it,long and cautiously.

I said: "Does she tell a differentstory now?"

His face was working with complexpassions. He was a man of feeling, and Dolly was his office daughter lost formany years.

"She tells an absurd story," heburst out. "I not only can't believe it, I can't believe that she believesit. She isn't that sick."

He paused, drawing deep on his cigarette,trying to get himself under full control. I waited and listened. This time hedid go on:

"She claims now that she didn't seeMcGee that night, and that in fact he had nothing to do with the murder. Shesays she lied on the witness stand because the various adults wanted herto."

"Why would she say that now?"

"I don't pretend to understand her.After an interval of ten years we've naturally lost what rapport we had. And ofcourse she hasn't forgiven me for what she considers my betrayal—my failure tolook after her in the disaster. But what could I do? I couldn't go to IndianSprings and kidnap her out of her aunt's house."

"You care about your patients,doctor."

"Yes. I care. It keeps metired." He stubbed his cigarette in the ceramic ashtray. "Nell madethis ashtray, by the way. It's rather good for a first attempt."

I murmured something in agreement. Abovethe subsiding clamor of dishes, a wild old complaining voice rose in the depthsof the building.

"That story of hers," I said,"may not be so very absurd. It fits in with the fact that McGee visitedher on the second day of her honeymoon and hit her so hard with something thatit knocked her right off the tracks."

"You're acute, Mr. Archer. That'sprecisely what happened. He treated her to a long tirade on the subject of hisinnocence. You mustn't forget that she loved her father, however ambivalently.He was able to convince her that her memory was at fault, that he was innocentand she was guilty. Childhood memories are powerfully influenced byemotion."

"That she was guilty of perjury, youmean?"

"Murder." He leaned toward me."She told me this morning she killed her mother herself."

"With a gun?"

"With her tongue. That's the absurdpart. She claims she killed her mother and her friend Helen, and sent herfather to prison into the bargain, all with her poisonous tongue."

"Does she explain what she means bythat?"

"She hasn't yet. It's an expression

© Alexander Sviyash, 2009