The Man Who Wasn't All There by David Handler (book recommendations website TXT) 📕

up with a toe tag at the LA County morgue or the New York City morgue or the—’

‘I get the idea.’

‘But I can’t tell you anything about rich people that you don’t already know, can I? You’re working for a billionaire. Or I should say two billionaires.’ I poured us each a mug of coffee. She took hers black, as do I. ‘Do you mind if I ask you how it came about?’

‘Not at all.’ She sipped her coffee cautiously. ‘Ahh, good and strong. Just the way I like it.’ She put her mug down and ran her hands through her gorgeous mane of hair, which I was beginning to think was more of a nervous gesture than intentionally provocative, though it was definitely provocative and I had definitely been without attractive female companionship since Labor Day. ‘Michael phoned the dean of the Yale School of Medicine seven years ago and asked him for the name of the faculty’s top child psychiatrist.’

‘That would be you.’

‘It would, as it happens.’

‘In that case you must know my old pal T.J. – Tommy Joshua. We were classmates when I was up at Cambridge.’

‘Dr Thomas Joshua?’ Annabeth’s eyes widened slightly. ‘Why, yes, I know him quite well. His office is right down the hall from mine. He’s a highly respected psychoanalyst and teacher.’

I let out at laugh. ‘Positively the last guy who I imagined I’d ever hear described that way. When I knew him he had exactly three interests in life – rugby, women and Moosehead beer.’

‘And yet he has a razor-sharp mind, as he’ll be the first to tell you,’ she said, smiling faintly. ‘Also a lovely wife, Beth, and four beautiful children. We evolve, Hoagy. We grow up.’ Her face darkened. ‘Except for those unfortunate few of us who don’t.’

‘I take it you’re speaking of Austin now.’

‘I am. As I said, Austin is still very much a ten-year-old boy and he and Michael are still locked in the exact same relationship they were in when they were children. Michael remains pre-adolescent himself. I don’t believe either of them has ever had a sexual relationship with a woman. They’re quite an unusual pair, as you’ve no doubt observed. Also a tremendous drain on my time. To be honest, not a day has gone by that I haven’t regretted agreeing to take Austin on. He’s made it impossible for me to see other patients and to continue my research at Yale’s Child Study Center. But Michael pays me one million dollars a year to treat him and I’m a widow raising three teenaged kids. I simply can’t afford to say no, although I do donate a healthy chunk to the Study Center.’

‘May I ask what happened to your husband?’

Her face darkened. ‘I live a few miles down Joshua Town Road from here. You’ve driven by my house a million times on your way to Route 156. It’s the yellow saltbox on the right that’s sliding ever so gently off of its foundation because I have no time to devote to it. Realtors would say it “needs TLC.” Five years ago, Paul was sideswiped by a hit-and-run driver when he was out jogging early one Sunday morning. He pitched headfirst into a fieldstone wall and died instantly. He was a Greek scholar at Yale. We were classmates and best friends. He was my soul mate. And he’d encouraged me to take on Austin as a patient. Not just because of the money. He thought it would be a fascinating challenge for me.’ Annabeth paused, sipping her coffee. ‘When I lost him I didn’t think I’d make it. But I’ve survived. We’ve survived. Max is seventeen now, Sarah’s fifteen and Gloria is thirteen. We’re a sturdy bunch. We’ve had to be.’

‘Do you have a man in your life?’

She smiled faintly. ‘Other than Austin, you mean? I have no room in my life for a man. That’s assuming I actually met one worth bothering with, and I haven’t.’

‘Well, you certainly take good care of yourself. You look extremely fit, if I may say so.’

‘You may. I run five miles every morning and do an hour of weight training. That’s my therapy.’

‘Was that a regular habit of Paul’s? Taking an early Sunday morning jog, I mean.’

‘It was, yes.’

‘Did they ever catch who hit him?’

‘No, they didn’t, and I know exactly where you’re going with this. Austin was hospitalized at McLean when it happened, so it couldn’t have been him. Besides, why would he want to kill Paul?’

‘Because he wanted you for himself. You’re an attractive, compassionate woman. Are you telling me he’s never shown any interest in you?’

‘None. As I said, Austin is still pre-adolescent.’

‘Could it have been Michael? The driver who hit Paul, I mean.’

Annabeth shook her head. ‘Michael isn’t capable of something that aggressive. He’s much too frightened. However, unlike Austin, he takes his meds diligently and handles the family’s business affairs very effectively.’

‘And, yet, he still trembles.’

‘And, yet, he still trembles,’ she acknowledged. ‘He’s totally overwhelmed by the stress of being responsible for Austin.’

Her cup was empty. I refilled it for her.

She ran her finger around the rim of her cup, tilting her head at me slightly. ‘You’d make a good therapist. You’re easy talk to.’

‘Ghosting is a bit like being a therapist. You spend your time trying to get people to tell you things they’ve never told anyone else. The only difference is that you have to write a book when you’re done.’

‘I’ve actually thought about trying to write one about the Talmadge brothers. They’re such a peculiar, fascinating pair.’ Her brown eyes met mine briefly, then darted away. ‘If it wouldn’t be a gross imposition I’d love to get your input on how to go about structuring it.’

‘Of course. I’ll be happy to sit down with you.’

‘That would be great. First, we have to get Austin settled down.’

‘So you believe that you will?’

‘Of course. When it comes to Austin this is really nothing very out of the ordinary, hard as you may find