A Final Session

Chapter Eight

Jim stood at the breakfast bar pouring he and Christie a mug of coffee each. It felt strange to walk around the apartment knowing Hank wasn't watching his every move. He'd already tried to ring the vet but it was early and no one was picking up. He'd give it another five minutes. He was struggling with the wait though; patience had never been his strong suit.

"Here you go." Christie said as she put a plate down next to him. "Toasted bagel."

"You having something?" He asked.

"Yeah. I have a little time."

"Christie about yesterday with Esther …" He started.

"I told you last night Jim I'm not ready to talk about it." She started struggling to keep control of her voice.

"But…" Jim managed before he put his palm up to cover his mouth.

"Don't you dare laugh Jimmy Dunbar." She cried as a snort escaped from his lips "Don't you dare." She started laughing too.

"Did she really say the F word? I mean I thought I may have imagined it but …"

"No Jimmy you didn't imagine it. We are responsible for driving that nice mature lady to use the language of a soldier."

"Hey, we watched our language in front of women! I'm offended by that comment on behalf of all the military."

Christie was still laughing as she shook her head.

"Did you understand what she meant?" Jim asked shaking his head.

"Well her suggestion was that we step back and look at sex for what it really is. What did she say? A basic animal instinct. And you had to stop looking at me up on my pedestal and stop idealizing things."

"Right." He nodded slowly, "That was just before she suggested that for the time being we should stop viewing it as 'making love' and that I should just f…"

"JIMMY" Christie cut in, drowning out his next word. "I'm traumatized enough by Esther saying it. Please don't make me relive it." She paused for a moment. "Although seeing you at a complete loss for words was funny. I don't think you spoke again for the rest of the session."

By this point Jim had lost control and was laughing hysterically, tears trickling down his face. Laughing with him Christie looked over at her husband as he almost choked trying to take a bite of his bagel as he continued laughing. She used to be embarrassed by the way he laughed. For such a tough guy he had quite a high pitched, throaty laugh, which once it got going he couldn't stop. Today though it was good to hear she realized. He hadn't laughed like that, really thrown down and laughed, since he was shot.

Once he had regained control she sat down on the stool next to him, leaned into him and kissed him on his temple.

"What was that for?" He asked smiling and raising his eyebrows at her.

"Nothing. Just cause I wanted to. You going to ring about Hank?"

"Yeah." He nodded.

"I have to get going. Call me and let me know how he is?"

Jim put his arms around his wife's waist and pulled her to him "Have a good day." He said simply as he ran his hand through her hair before letting go.


Marty had arrived early at the squad room, his adrenalin running on override as he immediately began rifling through the files on Toms and Karen's desks. He wanted to go through Jim's reports too and the wait for his laptop to boot up was just too damn long. "Where are those guys?" He muttered under his breath. A little voice in his head reprimanded him for being annoyed with the others "you're in early, they're not late." it sang at him. He pulled out a sheet from one of the files on Karen's desk and placed it next to his laptop with one of the sheets from Tom's files. Sitting heavily in his chair he turned his attention to his computer screen. As soon as he could he accessed the network and found Jims report on Michael Goldberg. He squinted as he scrolled down through the notes suddenly stopping and scrolling back up a way. "Gotcha." He breathed.

Printing out the sheet he grabbed it up from the printer and placed it with the two sheets from the other files. He pulled out a lime green highlighter and made a couple of marks on each page and then sat back with a satisfied look on his face.


Jim had just been approaching the precinct when he heard Tom call out to him. He stopped and waited for the other detective to catch up.

"Hank still sick?" Tom asked as he nodded toward the cane in Jim's hand.

"Yeah. I called the vet and he's picking up a bit so they're happy with him but he has to stay another night. It's just a virus. Nothing too bad." Jim shrugged as they continued down the sidewalk, his cane taping from side to side.

"Still, you're missing him I'll bet." Tom stated.

"Yeah."

They walked into the squad room just as Karen was shrugging out of her jacket and making to hang it on the back of her chair.

"I've been waiting for you guys!" Marty huffed as he appeared with a mug of coffee in his hand. "I think I got something."

As they settled at their desks Marty filled them in. "I had to go to another school thing with my ex and my kid last night. He's not doing so well and we had to go sit down with the school counselor and see what's what. Anyway Marty Juniors got some problems that are gonna be long term so she suggests to me and Julie that we all get family therapy and I'm bitchin' and moanin' afterwards to Julie about having to do this thing that I really don't think we need to do and she says to me "Marty, everyone is in therapy. What's the big problem?"

Marty finished and looked expectantly at his three colleagues. Karen and Tom looked bemused but Jim had a faint frown on his face.

"And you put that together with Karen's idea last night about the AA and GA meets." Jim stated.

"Yup." Marty looked smug. "And I was pretty sure I heard you mention the Goldberg's had couples therapy at one time."

"Right." Jim nodded. "Do we have a name for the Goldberg's shrink yet?" Jim asked Marty.

"Not yet. I thought you could call her when you got in and it wasn't so early." Marty said.

"Do you want to let me and Karen in on this or should we take the day off and let you two hold hands and finish this?" Tom snapped.

"They were all in or had been in couples therapy. It's the only thing they have in common." Marty supplied. "I checked the Robson's and they were under a Dr Andrea Melrose and the Flannery's were with a Dr Anthony Wilson. They are partners in the same practice on the Upper East Side. All we gotta do is find out where the Goldberg's' went but I'd put money on it being the same place." Marty breathed, his excitement clear.

"The perp is getting their details through the practice and his issue is with the men who have problems that the wives have to cope with too, either addictions or like Michael Goldberg infertility. Maybe that's why he wasn't as vicious with Goldberg. The infertility wasn't something he could control whereas to our perp the gambling and alcoholism has an element of choice about it." Jim speculated.

"I'll call Estelle Goldberg." Karen said grabbing up the phone.

Karen was aware that all the attention was on her as she spoke to Estelle. She could feel them willing her to hurry up so she could fill them in. As soon as she put the phone down Marty was on her case.

"What did she say?" He snapped

"Ok, Ok! She and her husband didn't see Melrose or Wilson. They saw a Dr Nathan Wechsler and he has a practice over in New Jersey." She said.

Marty looked crestfallen. He'd been so sure they would have gone to at least the same practice even if they didn't have the same shrink.

Jim cut in "Hang on. Why did they go all over to New Jersey to see a shrink when they live on the Lower East Side?"

"They didn't." Karen replied smugly. "Dr Wechsler used to be a partner with Melrose and Wilson before he sold out and built a practice on his own a year ago."

"Karen!" Marty fumed. "I don't need messing with like that." He snapped as his face split into a satisfied grin. "So here we are with our victim link!"


Marty and Tom sat in the dark paneled office of Dr Anthony Wilson. Marty shifted uncomfortably in the outsized leather armchair. "I think I'm in the wrong profession" He commented to Tom. "Looks like you can make some serious money in this game."

"I can't really see you as a therapist Marty. At least not with any living clients." Tom laughed.

"Are you saying I can't be sensitive?" Marty smiled across at his partner.

At that moment the door opened and a middle aged man in a dark blue suit entered proffering his hand.

"Detectives. I'm Dr Wilson. How can I help you?"

"We're investigating three homicides sir and each of the victims have been clients of your practice at sometime over the last two years." Marty stated.

"Oh God. You're kidding?"

"No, we're not." Tom cut in.

"Whatever I can do Detectives, just name it."

"We'd like a full staff list of everyone who has worked in this office over the past two and a half years, the names of everyone who might have access to client information and a list of all your clients from the past two years to date." Marty said. His gaze at Dr Wilson was a no nonsense one that the Dr knew he couldn't argue with.

"There are client confidentiality issues here you know."

"We're dealing with an active serial killer Dr Wilson now I'm sure your clients would rather be protected than not. Of course all their details will be kept confidential." Tom said evenly.

Dr Wilson's brow creased. "OK." He turned to the computer on his desk and located the relevant files, which he opened and printed off. He explained the sheets as he passed them over.

"Employee records. We have a good staff record Detectives; apart from a couple of temps that come and go from time to time we've had the same staff for the last three years at least. The key is to treat them well." He smiled across at Tom and Marty. "They are also the only people who have access to client details." He pulled off another set of sheets, leafed through them and handed them over. "Clients from the past two years. You'll see from the list that against each client there are basic notes made. They are basic though, such as 'Emotional Issues', 'Alcoholism', 'Drug Addiction'. If you want full notes we'll have to go into the archives we hold."

"This should be ok for now." Marty nodded, grabbing the sheets and rolling them into the palm of his hand without looking at them.

"We'll be back if we need anything further." Tom said.

"No problem. Here's my card. My out of hours number is on there in case you need it." Dr Wilson smiled at them. "I'll see you gentlemen out."


Back at the squad they started the task of going through the employee lists Dr Wilson had passed on. There were seven employees in the practice in total and between them they had interviewed four of them including Dr Wilson. So far nothing had popped up. None of the staff seemed to fit the profile of a serial killer but as they consisted of two fifty year old secretaries and a late teen who job shared the filing in between painting her nails it was hardly surprising. All they had left was Wilson's partner Dr Melrose, the job sharing file clerks counterpart and the sixty-year-old janitor who had been with the practice for the last six years and was currently visiting family in California. They had contact numbers lined up for Melrose and the clerk and decided to hit them tomorrow.

It was already getting too late to start trawling the client lists but Marty began anyway. The sheets showed line listings for every client the practice had, current cases and those that were closed. The details were set out on a spreadsheet format with the first column showing forenames, the next surname, the next gave address details followed by a column for dates of birth and then notes. After all that information there were two final columns one populated with numerical codes that Marty didn't see a key for and the last column which was left empty.

He found the DOAs names easily on the first couple of sheets and looked across from the names to find the brief annotations 'Alcohol addiction' next to the Flannery's, 'Gambling Addiction' against the Robson's and 'Emotional Issues' against the Goldberg's. Looking quickly down the pages he saw roughly sixty similarly tagged names.

"We got sixty other possible victims here at least." He yawned as he turned to Karen and Jim.

"If that's the case why hone in on those three? What made them special?" Karen queried.

"Who knows." Marty stifled another yawn. "Lets call it a day and start fresh in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan. I'm outta here. Stella and I are going clubbing." Tom grinned as he rose, grabbed his jacket and walked toward the lifts.

"On a school night?" Marty called after him.

Karen and Jim pushed their chairs back and gathered up their things. Jim was about to leave when he realized Karen was hesitating a little.

"You ok?" He asked.

"Yeah. I just gotta go see the boss about a new pager." She sounded despondent.

"And that's bad because..?" Jim questioned.

"Because it'll be my third in three months and he said next time I have to pay for my own. It's not the cost, I just feel.. stupid."

"So what is it you keep doing to these things Karen?"

"Well this one got a bit wet and the last I stepped on and I can't remember about the first one OK!" She muttered.

"Tell you what partner I'll help you out," Jim laughed. "Take mine and I'll go ask for a new one."

"Isn't yours like a special one or something?"

Jim unclipped his pager from his belt and handed it to her. "No, you just have an extra button to press for an audio message that's all. We'll sort out switching the numbers when I get my new one."

"Thanks." She mumbled.

"Not a problem. Hey Karen," he called back as he headed to Fisk's office, "Don't break it."

She laughed as she headed out. Marty followed her but not before he grabbed up the client notes he'd got from Dr Wilson. He might as well read them tonight, see if anything jumped out at him. He was damned if he was going to have an unsolved case on his record he thought firmly.


Marty woke with a start. He'd gotten home at around seven and after taking a shower to cool himself down he'd stretched out on the couch and flicked on the TV to see if he could find a game to watch. After that he couldn't remember. He swung his legs over the side of the couch and sat up, running his hand through his hair. He checked his watch 2.30am. Damn, he hadn't even eaten and it was too late now. Mind you he thought, he felt wide-awake and hungry so what did it matter what time it was. He made his way into the kitchen and yanked open the refrigerator door. Pulling out a dish of cold pasta he grabbed a fork from the drainer and slouched back to the couch. As he sat and started to eat his attention drifted back to the stack of curled sheets on the coffee table in front of him. With his free hand he spread the sheets out and leaned over to study them.

"Whose next?" He muttered to himself as he forked through the pasta in the dish. His eyes scanned the pages left to right settling on the final two columns. He wished he knew what this numerical code meant. The column header read 'STATUS' so he guessed that meant whether they client was current or closed. The column was populated with either a 1,2 or 3. He had the idea that 1 was current, 2 meant closed and 3 could be somewhere in between or maybe 'on hold'. He shook his head. He'd get hold of Wilson in the morning and find out. He should have scanned these when they were in Wilson's office he thought, annoyed with himself for not bothering. He had Wilson's card though. Was it too late to ring him? He decided it definitely was and went back to the notes. As he flipped through more of the pages something caught his eye so quickly that he'd lost it before he realized and had to shuffle back through the sheets to find it again. He was sure he'd seen something in one of the cells in that empty last column headed IOF. There! He hadn't imagined it. He looked closely at the column. One of the cells on the sheet he was looking at had a tiny gray asterisk in the center. He looked up and down the sheet but there were no more, just that one. He flicked through the other pages. There were no more that he could see until he reached the line for the Goldberg's. He flipped through the pages to find Flannery and Robson. They had them too. "Shit!" Marty whispered under his breath as he rifled clumsily back down to the page where the fourth asterisk had been. He found it and looked across to find the names and address. "What?" He said to himself. The name and address fields didn't contain actual names and addresses but what looked like a reference number for name and just a zip code for the address. Looking down the page it seemed that the last forty or so records were the like this.

Marty felt his stomach clench in a knot as he dumped the pasta bowl onto the table. He had the next vic, he was sure about it. He rose and hurried to his bedroom where he grabbed his pager from his nightstand. Quickly he issued a message to his colleagues, pulled on his trainers and grabbed his gun, badge, cell phone and keys before he headed for the door.


Across town a couple of hours earlier whilst Marty had slept comfortably on his couch Jim had been tossing and turning in his bed. The cotton sheet he and Christie were sleeping under had wrapped itself around him and finally won the campaign to wake him up. Carefully he untangled himself and swung his legs over the side of the bed, turning his head from side to side giving his neck a satisfying crack. Even though he was only wearing pajama bottoms he was still too hot. He felt on the nightstand for his watch, flipped the crystal and touched the hands lightly. 12.30. He'd only been asleep for two hours. He groaned to himself wondering how he was going to get back to sleep now. Standing he quietly made his way to the bedroom door and opened it gently so as not to wake Christie. He stepped into the living room with the idea of getting a drink of water.

Jim didn't reach the kitchen. He didn't even get as far as the couch before a hand shoved him roughly between the shoulder blades causing him to fall forwards onto his hands and knees, the floor, as always, catching him by surprise. He didn't cry out, cop instincts didn't kick in; he didn't even have time to try to stand before a wet cloth was pressed over his nose and mouth and he fell flat onto the cool wooden floor.