The patient commissary was a zoo and generally sounded like one, though the staff made sure it was safe. Sensitivity to noise, Sandra added to her notes. “It can get a little loud, yes. Do you think you can deal with it?”

He gave her a downcast look but nodded. “I’ll try. Thank you for warning me up front—I appreciate it.”

One more lost soul, more fragile and less combative than most. Sandra hoped a week in State would do Orrin Mather more good than harm. But she wouldn’t have cared to lay odds on it.

*   *   *

The remanding officer was still waiting when she left the interview room, much to Sandra’s surprise. It was customary for cops to dump a case and walk away. State Care had begun its institutional existence as a means of relieving the overloaded prison system during the worst years of the Spin and after. That emergency had ended a quarter of a century ago, but State still served as a dumping ground for trivial offenders with obvious head issues. It was a convenient arrangement for the police, less so for the overextended and underfunded State Care staff. There was seldom any follow-up from law enforcement. As far as the police were concerned, a transfer was a closed file—or worse, a flushed toilet.

Bose’s HPD uniform was crisp despite the heat. He started to ask her about her impressions of Orrin Mather, but because it was past time for lunch, and her afternoon schedule was heavily booked, Sandra invited him to join her in the cafeteria—the staff cafeteria, not the patient commissary Orrin Mather would almost certainly find distressing.

She took her usual Monday soup and salad and waited while Bose did the same. It was late enough that they had no trouble finding a free table. “I want to do some follow-up on Orrin,” Bose said.

“That’s a new one.”

“Excuse me?”

“We don’t generally get a whole lot of follow-up from HPD.”

“I guess not. But there are some unanswered questions in Orrin’s case.”

It was “Orrin,” she noticed, not “the prisoner” or “the patient.” Clearly, Officer Bose had taken a personal interest. “I didn’t see anything too unusual in his file.”

“His name came up in connection with another case. I can’t talk about that in any detail, but I wanted to ask … did he mention anything about his writing?”

Sandra’s interest ticked up a notch. “Very briefly, yes.”

“When he was taken into custody Orrin was carrying a leather satchel with a dozen lined notebooks inside, all of them filled with writing. That’s what he was defending when he was attacked. Orrin’s generally a cooperative guy, but we had to struggle to get the notebooks away from him. He needed to be reassured that we’d keep them safe and give them back as soon as his case was resolved.”