L.A. Mental Read Online Free Page B

phone call was what seemed to set him off. Any idea who’d call him at four o’clock in the morning?”
    â€œI haven’t had time to think about it,” I said. “But right off the top, no, and I don’t see how it could figure in. It lasted only a few seconds—what could somebody have said in that short a time that would send him completely ballistic? Besides, everything he said was about the problem being inside his head, not coming from somewhere else.”
    â€œCould it have been a suicide attempt?”
    I hesitated, but then shook my head. “That’s also possible, but Nick’s never been suicidal. My personal take is that it doesn’t fit with his psychological makeup.”
    I’d never tried to do an outright clinical assessment on Nick involving tests and such, but it was clear to me that he was somewhere in the hazy area of borderline psychotic—people who tended to be very self-centered and manipulative, thrived on a secret sense of superiority, and by and large liked themselves just fine. They might do plenty of damage to others, but their top priority was taking care of number one.
    Finally Drabyak put his finger on the weak point, changing wrists on the steering wheel and shifting in his seat to face more toward me.
    â€œOne more question,” he said. “Do you think he was using drugs?”
    â€œI’d rather not speculate on that, Detective.” He knew as well as I did that meant yes. “But Nick’s had his problems along those lines. Assuming he pulls through this, I guarantee we’ll get him a thorough clinical workup and whatever treatment is indicated.”
    By now our house was coming into sight. Several more L.A. County vehicles were parked in front, patrol cars and investigation units, and the driveway was cordoned off by yellow tape with deputies standing watch. Drabyak stuck his hand out the window, flashing his badge at them, then pulled in among the other vehicles and cut the engine.
    â€œI appreciate your cooperation, Dr. Crandall,” he said. “I won’t keep you any longer—I know you’re anxious to check in on Nick.”
    â€œCan you tell me what happens from here?” I said. “Anything else you’re going to want me to do?”
    He leaned back and hooked a wrist over the wheel again, like he was still driving.
    â€œThat depends,” he said. “Right now, I don’t see any evidence that a crime was committed. No crime, there’s usually no reason for us to pursue it. We could . Trace that phone call, start looking under rocks, find out what he’s been doing and who with. But something could come along to kick this back into gear. And let’s face it, the Crandalls being who they are—there’s going to be a lot of interest.”

Five
    R onald Reagan UCLA Medical Center was like a city in itself, but I’d been there a few times before and I knew my way around. I paid eleven bucks for a parking space and went in the emergency room entrance of the huge main hospital. There I spent the next couple of hours absorbing the information about Nick that came along at intervals. While I waited, I finally had time to replay the events in my mind.
    What the hell had pushed him, literally, over the edge? In the past years he’d had a few episodes of slipping out of reality, but he’d never come close to losing it so wildly, and he’d never been outright violent. The memory of those awful, desperate howls and of him dancing around clutching his hair made me wince. It was like something really had invaded his head and was torturing him.
    The best assumption I could make at this point was that two factors had combined—he’d gotten into some really bad dope, and/or way too much of it, and his general mental condition had deteriorated more than I’d realized.
    The explanation didn’t much satisfy me. The drug part, maybe; who knew what kind