Chapter 16 part 2

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"Do you really want to have a discussion on perception and sensory interpretation in schizophrenics?  Simply put, their brain makes them believe the things that they hear or see are real."

Bryan ignored her tone.  He was pushing the envelope with the next question, but William had known things he couldn't have, had fought like he knew what was going to happen.  To Bryan, Westen's explanation of schizophrenia didn't explain those things.  "But what if, in some manner, they are?"

"Are what?"

"Real.  What if there is some source, other than illness?  Some reason that the hallucinations are organized and coherent?"

He waited, turned back to see her staring at him, immobile.  Finally, a sneer broke through her mask.  "God.  You're one of them."

He waited again.  She said nothing.  "One of who?" he asked.

"A transpersonal nut.  God, you probably read Wilber, don't you?  Would you like to talk about voodoo and witch doctors now?"  She shook her head.  "I thought you had actual questions.  I thought you had an update about Adams."

"This is part of the process.  I need to understand how the suspect thinks and sees the world in order to find him," he said.

"Please.  Stop."

He put up a hand.  "Hear me out.  I've been researching how people with schizophrenic symptoms are treated in other cultures.  They're well-adjusted and only suffer if they ignore their calling.  Often they assume positions of authority."

"Once again, witch doctors.  Shamans," she said.

"Actually, those are perfect examples.  If their brains aren't working well, how are they able to heal people?"

"Drugs and surgery heal people, Detective, not prayers or positive thinking.  Please, while you're discussing the ridiculous, be sure to mention that cat fancier, Wain.  I'm sure that's right on your mental level."

That made Bryan smile.  He had hoped for more information from the doctor, but now that he knew the useful part of the conversation was over, he couldn't resist the urge to bait her, just a little.  In his research, he had seen reproductions of Louis Wain's cat paintings.  The man had begun painting them for his sick wife and continued, as he developed schizophrenia.  "I'm glad you brought him up.  The later paintings do bear a striking resemblance to Buddhist and Hindu religious art.  Some kind of ecstatic experience he was expressing, don't you think, Doctor?"

She didn't even acknowledge his comment.  "It's William's brain, Detective.  There are no ghosts or souls or spirits out there in the ether.  There are chemical, electrical and structural aspects of his brain that are not working properly.  That's all there is.  Anyone who believes that there is more might as well start clapping their hands for Tinkerbell.”  As her control slipped away, Bryan could see how much pain she was in.  She stood and Bryan looked up at her.  "If this is the level of professionalism you are applying to this case, then I should speak to your superior."

Bryan looked back to the street.  When he came down to talk, he had wanted information from her about the possible pyromaniac, and had hoped for an intelligent discussion about William.  He had then thought that baiting her with Wain’s cat paintings might help him get a glimpse of what she was hiding underneath her thin level of control, but he hadn't wanted to anger her.  Most importantly, he couldn't let her talk to Hayes.  She might tell the Lieutenant about Bryan's questions about the fire cases.  He took a breath and turned to her.  "You do know it's a felony to impersonate a police officer, don't you?"

She stared at him.  No answer.

"The homeless shelters.  How many did you visit, tell them you were a detective?  That would mean jail time…and losing your license."  Again, there was no answer.  Bryan stood.  "Just let me do my job, doctor."  He walked back into the building.

Once inside, he stopped and looked out the window.  The doctor was still outside on the bench.  He could tell even from a distance that she was composing herself, painting another layer of calm over her features.  He figured she probably needed a few psychiatrists herself.  As he watched her gather herself together and walk away, Bryan turned what he knew about William over in his mind.  The diagnosis of schizophrenia might be wrong, or if it wasn't, then in William's case, schizophrenia meant more than hearing voices that weren't there. 

Bryan knew that he'd sound as crazy as any of the doctor's patients if he admitted what he was thinking.  But if William did have some kind of access to knowledge, information, then Bryan might be able to use the man.  With his help, he might really be able to find out who started the fire that had killed his wife and baby. 

He went up the stairs, back to his desk and to the folder on the fires that he had hidden in his bag.

 *

(Author’s note:  Thank you all for reading, voting and leaving such enthusiastic comments!  I appreciate it very, very much!  And, you might want to check out Chapter 17, where Bryan finds out something, very, very important about William...and himself.)

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