“I could confuse her while she denounces her late husband and the father of her unborn child, if that’s what you mean.”

“She has a score to settle with these people. They had an effect on his death; they made money on his trouble—”

“Stop it, I’ve had enough.” Roberts came to the desk and gathered his wallet and keys. “Keep the other set. You’re here against my will. I’ll make the decision about pressing charges after I’ve seen what you’ve actually done. I wouldn’t be surprised if you finally came to your senses.” His hands were shaking. “Perhaps if you thought again about the ramifications—” He went to the corner of the room and picked up his belt. “If you thought about the suffering you would cause. What about her when this is over, all over? Where will she be? She’s going to have a reaction, and you’ll be far away.” He put on his coat. “Are you coming with me?”

“No. You do see it as a battle, not of self-interest, but of self-preservation, which is worse. Your patient first, one patient at a time. We could work together, you and I, get something started. I’ve been around; I know how ugly it will be and how little, in the end, will be done. You want to tell her not to project her real self into it, just as you’ve been telling me. You wanted to protect me, and now that’s no longer possible, you want me to help you to continue to protect her. It will tie a knot in me, but that’s all right, you can help me untie that later. You say you’re against the death penalty and against high-powered theft, and here is your chance. Sure, you’re on committees and do public service, your body goes in a chair and your hand waves over a checkbook, but that’s not the same as putting your self, the real you, on the line. Here is your chance, but the way you really see things, not what you say at all, has you moving in the other direction. A little accommodating, a little compromising, Norma is safe—and so are you. Just figure that Colin MacIver was a patient you lost. You can tell Karen that you think she suffered for nothing. We understand it now but we’re not going to lift a finger to change things for the future. MacIver showed you how near we all are to the face of death, but you haven’t learned a thing; you’re content to go on your own way, cheering us up, one by one. Maybe we can stop thinking about it. We’ll forget about the dead, too, and we’ll let the children fight their own battles. I don’t have any answers for you, Wendell, but you certainly don’t have any for me.”