“I thought money would appeal to your nature,” Allen said. “It is one of Ragens more interesting contradictions,” said Arthur. “He’s a dedicated communist who loves money so much he steals it.”

“But you will agree,” said Ragen, “that I always give whatever is not needed to pay our own bills to the poor and needy.” “So?” laughed Allen. “Maybe we can take a charitable tax deduction.”

(4)

On December 19, the city editor of the Athens Messenger telephoned the hospital for an interview with Billy Milligan. Billy and Dr. Caul agreed.

Caul led Billy into the conference room, where he introduced him to city editor Herb Amey, reporter Bob Ekey and photographer Gail Fisher. Caul showed them Billy’s paintings, and Billy answered their questions about his past, the abuse, his attempted suicide, his domination by the other personalities.

“What about the stories of violence?” Amey asked. “How could the community of Athens be assured—if you were allowed to leave the grounds, as so many patients in this open ward do—that you wouldn’t be a threat to them or their children?”

“I think,” said Caul, “the question of violence should be answered not by Billy, but by one of his other personalities.”

He took Billy out of the conference room into his office across the hall and sat him down. “Now, Billy, I think it’s important for you to establish good relations with the media in Athens. The people have to be shown you’re not a danger to them. One of these days you’re going to want to be allowed to go downtown without a supervisor, to buy art supplies or go to a movie or buy a hamburger. These newspapermen are obviously sympathetic. I think we should let them talk to Ragen.”

Billy sat silently, his lips moving. After a few moments he leaned forward and glared. “Are you crazy, Doc-tor Caul?” Caul caught his breath at the harshness of the voice. “Why do you say that, Ragen?”

“Is wrong to do this. we had struggled to keep Billy awake.” “I wouldn’t have called you out if I hadn’t thought it was important.”

“Is not important. Is exploitation for newspapers. I am against. I am angry.”

“You’re right,” Caul said, eyeing him warily, “but the public has to be reassured that you’re what the court has said you are.”

“I do not care vat public thinks. I do not want to be exploited and embarrassed by headlines.”

“But it’s necessary to have good relations with the press in Athens. What the people in this town think is going to have an effect on your therapy and your privileges.”

Ragen thought about it. He sensed that Caul was using him to give weight to his statements to the press, but Caul’s arguments were logical. “You think is right thing?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.”

“All right,” Ragen said. “I will talk to reporters.”

Caul led him back to the conference room, and the reporters looked up apprehensively.