Death Match Read Online Free

up again. “Can you understand now why we’ve requested your services?”
    Lash was still digesting this. “Perhaps you could spell it out.”
    “You’re a psychologist specializing in family relationships, particularly marital relationships. The book you published last year,
Congruency
, was a remarkable study on the subject.”
    “I wish more book buyers had felt that way.”
    “The peer reviews were all quite enthusiastic. In any case, in addition to being utterly perfect for each other, the Thorpes were both intelligent, capable, well adapted,
happy
. Clearly, some tragedy must have befallen this couple after their marriage. Perhaps a medical problem of some sort; perhaps the death of a loved one. Maybe it had to do with financial issues.” He paused. “We need to know what changed in the dynamic of their lives, and why they took such an extreme action as a result. If by some remote chance there’s a latent psychological tendency operating here, we should know so we can prescreen for it in the future.”
    “You’ve got a team of in-house mental health professionals, right?” Lash asked. “Why not use one of them?”
    “Two reasons. First, we want an impartial person to look into the matter. And second, none of our staff has your particular credentials.”
    “Which credentials do you mean?”
    Lelyveld smiled paternally. “I’m referring to your prior occupation. Before you went into private practice, I mean. Forensic psychologist with the FBI, part of the Behavioral Science team operating out of Quantico.”
    “How did you know about that?”
    “Dr. Lash, please. As a former special agent, you no doubt retain behind-the-scenes access to places, people, information. You could undertake such an investigation with great discretion. Were we to investigate ourselves, or request official assistance, there might be questions. And there is no point in causing our clients—past, present, and future—unnecessary concern.”
    Lash shifted in his chair. “There was a reason I left Quantico for private practice.”
    “There’s a newspaper account of the tragedy in your dossier. I’m very sorry. So it doesn’t surprise me you’re not eager to leave the comfort of that practice, even temporarily.” The chairman opened the leather portfolio, removed an envelope. “Hence the amount of the enclosed.”
    Lash took the envelope and opened it. Inside was a check for $100,000.
    “That should cover your time, travel, and expenses. If more is needed, let us know. Take your time, Dr. Lash. Thoroughness, and a subtle approach, are what’s required here. The more we know, the more effective we can make our service in the future.”
    The chairman paused a moment before speaking again. “There is one other possibility, however remote. And that is one of the Thorpes was unstable, had a prior history of mental problems they were somehow able to conceal from our evaluation. This is highly,
highly
unlikely. However, if you are unable to find an answer over the course of their married life, you may have to look into their past as well.”
    Lelyveld closed the portfolio with an air of finality. “Ed Mauchly will be your primary point of contact for this investigation. He’s put together a few things to get you started. We can’t release our own files on the couple, of course, but they wouldn’t be of much interest to you anyway. The answer to this riddle lies in the
private
lives of Lewis and Lindsay Thorpe.”
    The man fell silent again, and for a moment Lash wondered if the meeting was over. But then Lelyveld spoke again, his voice quieter now, more intimate. The smile had faded. “We have a very special feeling for all of our clients, Dr. Lash. But to be honest, we feel particularly strongly about our perfect couples. Whenever a new supercouple is found, word ripples throughout the company, despite our best attempts to keep it private. They’re very rare. So I’m sure you can understand how painful and difficult