GOOD MAN TURNED BAD?

Chapter 6

Horatio was four sessions into his therapy with Cecile. His emotions were mixed. Mostly, a sense of disappointment. Logically, he knew there wasn't going to be a miraculous recovery, no moment of revelation… Yet, so far, he had felt nothing. Guided gently by Cecile, he had spoken about losing Speedle, and Jesse… The death of his mentor from the bomb squad… He felt he'd been truthful. He'd tried to be. But he also felt he had already dealt with those losses. They had discussed - though briefly - his loss of control with Leverbrook. Cecile hadn't considered it that significant, just a manifestation of his underlying torment.

There was a basic problem in the fact that he was, himself, a very skilled interviewer. So was she, and it sometimes turned into a sort of dance, where he knew why she was asking something, and where she was hoping to lead him. His reaction - an almost automatic one - was to turn the conversation in a different direction. He tried not to, and, so far, she hadn't challenged him about it. Given her background, he suspected she was used to it.

Today he asked her, rather despondently, "We're not getting anywhere, are we?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Where were you expecting to be?"

He sighed. "I suppose I expected to be… hurt. To find some sort of key to why I feel so… horrible…"

"It's not as straightforward as that, Horatio. We're touching on things that obviously were and are painful, but so far they're things you've already rationalized to yourself."

"You think I'm not being honest?"

"I think you're being completely honest, as far as you're aware."

"But?"

"You want me to tell you you're a hard case? That I haven't 'cracked' you? It's not how it works, Horatio. I'm not out to trick you, or catch you out. It's not an interrogation."

"I didn't mean that."

"I know. We're doing something that's very difficult, and it's very early days." She was silent for a few moments. "Do you like dogs?"

"What?" His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sudden change of subject. "I don't know… Why?"

"Oh, some of my clients find the presence of a sociable dog beneficial. It gives them something to do with their hands… And someone to talk to without feeling every question is a trick…"

He chuckled. "Talk to the dog… I had a dog when I was a kid… Not since - foster homes, then police academy… No chance really. So, in answer to your question, I don't know if I like dogs."

"Tell me about your dog."

"Is this a roundabout way to get me to talk about my childhood?"

"Do you want to?"

"Not particularly." He knew he sounded tetchy. "Sorry, I'm really not in the mood for this."

Cecile smiled. "I can see that. Don't worry. Not all days are productive. I'm going to make you some tea - English tea. Why don't you sit outside and relax?"

"And you'll send the dog out?" But he got up and went out to the balcony. He felt faintly guilty at wasting Cecile's time, but he couldn't help it. He had curtailed a tricky interview with a suspect to get here on time, and his mind was on that.

He leant on the railing and took a few deep breaths, smelling the sea. They never worked outside, since, as Cecile had pointed out, sound carried too easily between apartments. He went to sit down as she brought a tray out. She poured a cup and handed it to him.

"You're distracted… Difficult case?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"Please, don't be. Look, I'm in the happy position now of taking on only a few clients. I can, therefore, be flexible… I suggest we stop this session. You can get back to whatever you're itching to get back to. We'll pick it up next time… Maybe have a longer one."

"You don't mind?"

"I understand. What we're doing isn't easy. Often, my clients are on sick leave when they come to me, but you're still doing your regular job. I don't expect you to switch on and off like that. How about the evenings, or a weekend? Or do you work all the time?"

He smiled ruefully. "If I need to. Often, yes."

"We're booked for Tuesday. I'd like to see you, and I don't want to leave it too long, but if you're right in the middle of a case, postpone our appointment. Yes?"

He nodded, and sipped the tea. "I am sorry though. I don't like wasting your time."

"I don't need your apologies, Horatio. Just a little more concentration than you've got today."

He chuckled. "OK. Deal." He finished the tea, and stood up. "I'll get back to my bad guy."

They slipped into a more comfortable routine. He did have to cancel once or twice, but he now recognised when his mood was so wrong that the session would have been a waste of time. He was, however, becoming conscious that he seemed to have very few emotions, or, at least, few he had access to. They had probed some of the more painful episodes in his life… and he found he simply wasn't reacting as he would once have done.

He tried to explain to Cecile. "I suppose you'll say I'm 'rationalizing' again… It's not that these events didn't hurt me… They did. I know that. It's just… at the moment…"

"You can't get at the feelings."

"I can't. It's not deliberate. I'm not hiding."

"I know you're not. The fact that you can sit there, and talk about your wife's death, without a tremor in your voice, without shedding a tear, tells me a lot about your state of mind…"

"Any of it good?"

"Not really. You told me yourself you're depressed. You're also afraid of losing control, which you admitted had happened once or twice. You're a strong man, used to pretty much total control… Now that the control is a bit… precarious… you're damned if you're going to let emotions get into the equation. Too much risk. You've shut down… as a sort of defense."

"Not consciously."

"Oh no, not consciously."

"Shouldn't that make me feel better, not worse?"

"No, because you know how much it's not you. I believe that normally you're a compassionate man. You've said as much. That you started out to 'make a difference'. To speak for the victims of crime. 'Protect and serve' weren't just words on a badge. I think you feel you're losing that part of yourself, and that's what hurting you so much."

"Ah, but is that cause or effect?"

"Probably effect. I don't believe for a moment that you set out to care less. I do believe you may have been hit so hard that this defense mechanism kicked in."

"I haven't been hit that hard. No worse than a lot of other people."

"It's not about 'a lot of other people'. Everyone has their own limits. It could be that yours was reached."

"I don't think so, but…" His voice trailed off, and he shrugged.

"How's Calleigh?" Not for the first time, the abrupt change of tack startled him, but he knew he brightened at the mention of her.

"Great. Though overly concerned about me, which isn't part of her job."

"What about the others?"

"All great. They always are. Well, I've had a bit of a problem with one of them… Natalia… she witnessed one of my 'loss of control' moments… Rather shattered her faith in me, but I hope we're getting back on track."

"And your wife's brother?"

"Eric? My Eric…" He smiled with obvious affection. "He's loyal to a fault. Much more than I deserve. I'm making him sound like a faithful hound… He's not like that. He's a brilliant CSI. After Calleigh, the best I've got. Very strong, brave… But I'm conscious that he'd follow me through the gates of hell, and I don't deserve that sort of devotion."

"You're very harsh on yourself. Look at the facts - you've got Calleigh, who, I've no doubt, went out on a limb for you. You've got Eric, who sounds as if he'd die for you. Don't you think you might have earned some of this?"

"Oh, once, maybe. Not now…"

"They're all still there."

"Yes, and that's at least part of the problem. If I'm off my game - and I think that's putting it mildly at the moment - then the risk to them is huge. If something happens, and one of them gets hurt, or worse…"

"You'll blame yourself."

"Justifiably."

"You've got the soul of a Catholic, Horatio - you'd blame yourself regardless. I wish you could turn that feeling round and realise you're also responsible for all the good things."

"We don't see a lot of good things."

"You've got a team of people who apparently adore you - even if you don't think they should; an arrest and conviction record that's off the scale - I researched you a bit… How many commendations have you got?"

He shrugged. "A few. Doesn't mean anything."

"Maybe not to you. I'm just trying to show you that if you take responsibility for the bad, you've got to take responsibility for the good." She smiled sympathetically. "We'll take it up next time. And try to stop being quite so hard on yourself."