Bone Box. Faye Kellerman

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СКАЧАТЬ I help you?”

      Decker discreetly took out his official ID. “We have an appointment with Dr. Elwood.”

      “We?”

      Decker looked around until he spotted McAdams leafing through the magazine entitled Gay Today. If he could have beaned the kid from across the room, he would have done it. He looked back at Eloise, the receptionist. “My detective seems to have found some interesting reading material.”

      “People have all sorts of interesting facets to their personality.” Her smile was a smirk. “I’ll tell the doctor you’re here. It may take a few minutes. We’re swamped today.”

      Decker thanked her and the glass partition slid closed in front of him. He walked over to McAdams and elbowed him hard. He whispered, “Learning something?”

      “There are some real hot-looking dudes in this magazine.” He put it down on the table. “If I were gay, I wouldn’t stand a chance. Lucky for me that women just aren’t that picky.”

      Decker stifled a laugh. “Try to concentrate on the investigation, Tyler. It’s what you’re being paid to do.”

      “You mean that paltry sum that’s handed to me twice a month?”

      “You were the one who turned down those cushy, well-paid internships.” Decker heard someone call his name. “That’s us. C’mon, Harvard. Let’s go find some answers.”

      They were escorted into an office that looked out on a small back garden. The sun had ducked behind clouds, leaving the foliage to grow in gray, sooty light. The air-conditioning was running full blast. The nurse was tall with long thin hands. He said, “The doctor will be with you as soon as he can. Have a seat.”

      There were two wooden chairs and one plush leather desk chair separated by a large, rosewood desk holding one pile of paperwork, a bamboo file organizer, a cup of pens, a stapler, and a large phone that had many blinking lines. The walls were covered with diplomas and certifications. Ten minutes after the detectives were seated, a white-coated man in his mid to late fifties flew in like a rogue gust of wind. He was medium in stature with a paunch that lay over a Gucci belt. He had a long face with wiry, silver hair and eyes somewhere between tawny and brown. He sat down at his desk chair and extended his hand to both detectives. “How can I help?”

      “As I told your receptionist over the phone, it has to do with a case we’re working on involving one of your former patients.”

      “And I suppose you know that even if we’re dealing with former patients, there is confidentiality. Who are we talking about? My receptionist didn’t say.”

      Decker said, “We found some remains up north in Greenbury near the Five Colleges of Upstate. We have a tentative match to Lawrence Pettigrew. Lorraine Pettigrew.”

      Marshall sat back in his chair, a pained look on his face. “That’s awful.” He regarded Decker. “Because the police are involved … was it murder?”

      “Yes.”

      “How?”

      “The developments are recent, but the murder was not. He has been dead for quite some time. Anything you can tell me about him would be helpful.”

      “Like what?”

      “Did he confide in you on personal matters, for instance?”

      “They all confide in me on personal matters. When people come to me, they are very confused and very emotional. I’m just as much therapist as I am surgeon.”

      “What about Pettigrew?”

      “He was no exception.”

      “Anything specific that you can tell me?”

      Marshall picked up the phone. “Donnie, can you get me Lawrence/Lorraine Pettigrew’s file, please?” After he hung up the receiver, he said, “It’s been a while. From what I recall, he was very gung-ho on having surgery. When I first see them, they usually are. I always go slowly. Any change, be it a nose job or breast implants, takes getting used to. Let alone something as drastic as sex reassignment surgery. I start with the face. We did some skin sanding, some hair removal. He did well with those procedures, so we took the next step.”

      “Which was?”

      “Hormonal therapy.” A moment later, Donnie came in with the file and then left. Marshall began to skim through it.

      “Yes, I put him on a low dose of the appropriate hormones needed to override the androgens. That’s when the problems started. He didn’t like how it made him feel. He said … this is what I wrote down … it made him feel on edge and moody.”

      “PMS,” McAdams said.

      “Yes, it does mimic some symptoms in some people. But with time, most transgender people adjust to it. Lawrence not only disliked how it made him feel, he also didn’t like the changes in his body.”

      “Meaning?”

      “He liked losing his body hair, but he didn’t like having actual breasts although he had been dressing with prosthetics for two years. He loved the way he looked in women’s clothing. But he didn’t like looking at his naked body.” Marshall looked at the chart. “He said he didn’t feel beautiful as a man or a women, just some kind of weird chimera. Now, adjustment can take months. But he didn’t seem to want to adjust. So we began to talk about alternatives.”

      “Which are?”

      “His problem was not that unusual. There are many men who feel as he did. They consider themselves women in men’s bodies. They are attracted to men. But they don’t want to do the last, fateful step because they can’t adjust to their bodies as women.”

      “Okay,” Decker said. “I talked to a few of Pettigrew’s friends. Karen Osterfeld and her current partner, Jordeen Crayton. I believe that Pettigrew intended to marry Karen Osterfeld, who was Karl Osterfeld back then.”

      Marshall said nothing.

      “Do you know anything about that?”

      “If I did, I wouldn’t say. Karen Osterfeld is still very much alive.”

      “And she’s your patient?”

      “You know I can’t say anything.”

      “How about if she gave you permission to talk to me?”

      Marshall said, “Has she?”

      “I haven’t asked her.”

      “So then there’s nothing to talk about.” Marshall stood up. “I hope I’ve been helpful. I have examination rooms filled with patients. I really must get on with them.”

      Decker said. “I have one more question. Since Lawrence didn’t adjust to his womanly body, I assume that sex reassignment surgery was off the table.”

      “Yes, of course. It was not appropriate for him. He kept on with hormones but at an even lower dose. And he wanted to continue with cosmetic dermabrasion СКАЧАТЬ