The Drop - Michael Connelly [24]
“I can’t tell you anything about our sessions. The doctor-patient confidentiality bond exists even in this sort of situation.”
“Yeah, I get that but the evidence in our case indicates he abducted, raped and then strangled a nineteen-year-old girl. I need to know what makes the man sitting out there in that circle tick. I need—”
“Wait a minute. Just wait.”
She put up her hand in a stop gesture.
“You said a nineteen-year-old girl?”
“That’s right and his DNA was found on her.”
Again, not a lie, but not the whole truth.
“That’s impossible.”
“Don’t tell me it’s impossible. The science isn’t wrong. His—”
“Well, it is this time. Clayton Pell didn’t rape a nineteen-year-old girl. First of all, he is a homosexual. And he’s a pedophile. Almost all of the men here are. They are predators convicted of crimes against children. Second, two years ago he was assaulted in prison by a group of men and he was castrated. So there is no way that Clayton Pell is your suspect.”
Bosch heard a sharp intake of breath from his partner. He, like Chu, was shocked by the doctor’s revelation as well as how it echoed the thoughts he’d had as he entered the facility.
“Clayton’s sickness is that he is obsessed with prepubescent boys,” Stone continued. “I would have thought you’d do a little homework before you came here.”
Bosch stared at her for a long moment as the burn of embarrassment colored his face. Not only had the ruse he had planned been disastrously wrong but there was now even further evidence that something was seriously amiss in the Lily Price case.
Struggling to move away from his gaffe, he blurted out a question.
“Prepubescent . . . you’re talking about eight-year-olds? Ten-year-olds? Why that age?”
“I can’t go into it,” Stone said. “You’re crossing into confidential territory.”
Bosch walked back to the window and looked out at Clayton Pell in the circle session. He was sitting up straight in his chair and looked to be closely following the conversation. He wasn’t one of those who hid his face, and there was no outward show of the trauma he had suffered.
“Does everybody in the circle know?”
“Only I know, and I made a serious breach telling you. The group sessions are of great therapeutic value to most of our residents. That’s why they come here. That’s why they stay.”
Bosch could have argued that they stayed because of the shelter and food. But he raised his hands in surrender and apology.
“Doctor, do us a favor,” he said. “Don’t tell Pell that we were here asking about him.”
“I wouldn’t. It would only upset him. If I’m asked, I will simply say you two were here to investigate the latest vandalism.”
“Sounds good. What was the latest vandalism?”
“My car. Someone spray-painted ‘I love baby rapers’ on the side. They’d like to get us out of the neighborhood, if they could. You see the man opposite Clayton in the circle? The one with the patch over his eye?”
Bosch looked and nodded.
“He was caught walking from the bus stop back to the center after coming from his job. Caught by the local gang—the T-Dub Boyz. They put his eye out with a broken bottle.”
Bosch turned back to her. He knew she was referring to a Latino gang from up around the Tujunga Wash. Latin gangbangers were notorious for their intolerance and violence toward sexual deviants.
“Anyone get arrested for it?”
She laughed derisively.
“To make an arrest, there would have to be an investigation. But you see, none of the vandalism or violence around here ever gets investigated by your department or anyone else.”
Bosch nodded without looking at her. He knew the score.
“Now, if there are no other questions, I need to get back to work.”
“No, no more questions,” Bosch said. “Go back to your good work, Doctor, and we’ll go back to ours.”
9
Bosch had just gotten back to the PAB from the Hall of Records with a stack of files under his arm. It was after five, so the squad room was almost deserted. Chu had gone home, which was fine with Bosch. He planned to leave himself and to start reviewing files and the disc from the Chateau Marmont at