Looking up, the doctor seemed not only surprised to see him but angry. “Who told you to come in here?”

“The lady.”

“She did nothing of the sort, young man. This is my private office. You wait outside until I call you in.”

Lew left. The lady didn’t seem to think anything of him coming straight out. Before he could even sit down, the intercom buzzed. Just like the first time, with a smile, she told him to go right in.

Lew entered tentatively and stood in front of the desk again.

The doctor was still writing, and a full ten minutes passed before he looked up. It was as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Scowling so fiercely those close-set eyes seemed almost to merge into one, he shouted, “What in God’s name! Didn’t I just tell you to wait outside?”

“But the lady—”

“Get out of my office!”

Lewis hurried out. He was shaking.

“Ma’am,” he said.

Smiling, the lady gestured toward the seats.

“But ma’am—”

“Just take a seat and I’ll tell you when you can go in.”

Again, before he could sit down, the intercom buzzed, that noise now piercing him. With exactly the same smile and in exactly the same way, the woman told him to go right in.

The doctor was examining a file, and Lew remained standing in front of his desk for what might have been another ten minutes before he looked up. This time he smiled and Lew felt near tearful with relief.

The doctor spoke gently and kindly. “Lewis, my name is Dr. Walthrop and I’m here to help you get better. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Anger flickered across the doctor’s face again. He began to rap the end of his pen on the desk’s green leather surface. Lew’s chest tightened, but a moment later Walthrop’s smile returned. Getting up, he came around the desk, sat on the edge in front of him, and cleared his throat. “Now, Lewis, according to your statements you believe that this man, Mr. Salvatore Celli, killed your brother by throwing him into the river.”

“He did, sir. I saw him.”

“Forgive me for asking, but was your brother kicking or screaming?”

Lewis shook his head.

“So perhaps he was already dead?”

“Don’t know, sir.”

“Well, in that case the first thing we can establish is that you didn’t actually see this man kill your brother.”

Lewis didn’t understand what he was getting at. “I’m not lying, sir.”

“How did your brother get out of your bedroom? Your father said you kept it locked.”

“I went out, sir.”

“Why?”

Ashamed, Lewis looked down at the man’s shoes. “To go to the bathroom.”

“Why didn’t you lock the door behind you?”

“Forgot.”

The doctor put his pen beneath Lewis’s chin and eased his head back up. “Lewis, one of the great truths about human beings is that none of us ever does anything we don’t—at some level, for some reason—intend to do.”

“I didn’t mean to leave it open. It wouldn’t close.”