Page 34 of Absent Feeling

Ambernodded, but she found herself feeling more and more as though this was likelyto be the one. Didn’t it make sense that the killer would be someone obsessedwith the Rorschach test, not someone opposed to it?

Onthe ground floor, the interior of the medical center looked much more modernand medical than its exterior suggested. It was painted in white and subtlepastels, with most of the furniture removed to create a sense of light andspace.

Areceptionist met them as they walked in. She was maybe twenty-five, dark hairedand wearing large, round glasses that seemed almost too big for her features.She smiled at them as they approached, although the smile faded slightly asSimon showed his badge.

“Areyou looking for Ms. Dern? I think she’s over in our east wing, dealing with somecontractors right now.”

“No,”Simon said. “We’d like to talk to Dr. Harvis. Is he here?”

“He’sup in his office on the second floor,” the receptionist said. “But I think he’sseeing outpatients at the moment.”

Outpatients?The hospital had patients who came in just for treatments, rather than beingheld there? Amber hadn’t considered that as a possibility and something aboutit sparked a thought in her that maybe it was relevant, but the thought wasquickly pushed aside by the need to speak to Andrew Harvis. He was theircurrent suspect, after all.

“Wedon’t have time to wait,” Simon said. It seemed that the urgency of the casewas starting to get to him too. Maybe it was the additional victim last night,but Amber got the feeling that Simon was determined to power forward with thecase right now, not stopping for anything. She actually had to run to keep upas Simon made his way towards a set of stairs leading up.

Theyreached the second floor, which looked more like the manor house that thisappeared to be from the outside. There was old-fashioned, wooden paneling onthe walls, decorated with oil paintings, and thick rugs muffled Amber andSimon’s footsteps as they continued forward, looking for Dr. Harvis’s office.

Therooms of the corridor they were in were all labelled with brass plaques, eitherwith people’s names or to describe their function. Amber read them as she went,finally stopping short as she saw one withDr. A Harvisengraved on it.

Simonknocked.

“You’llhave to wait!” a man’s voice called from inside. “I’m in the middle of asession.”

“Dr.Harvis, this is the FBI. We need to talk to you.”

Therewas no answer from within. Amber looked over to Simon. If Dr. Harvis waspotentially their killer, was it possible that he was using this opportunity torun or to destroy evidence? Could they risk waiting?

Amberdidn’t think so. Nor, it seemed, did Simon. He opened the door, leading the wayinto an office that looked like it was halfway to being a personal study.Bookcases stood against one wall, littered with a combination of books onpsychiatry andobjets d’art. Amber spotted a skull up there, along with astuffed raven.

Alarge, mahogany desk sat at one end of the room, partially covered in greenleather and with a computer screen set atop it. There was also an old-fashionedwriting set there, presumably more for appearances than use, complete with inkpotsand a large letter opener balanced on top.

Thenthere were the inkblots. They were everywhere in the room, framed and lookingdown from around the walls, designs appearing on the front of books, so thatAmber seemed to be surrounded by them. Intriguingly, a couple of the designs upon the walls were not the standard ten, and Amber found herself wondering ifthere were others there that were more similar to the one that had been foundat the crime scenes.

Awoman sat in front of the desk in one of a couple of uncomfortable lookingchairs. She was middle aged, blonde haired and blue eyed, wearing a whitesweater and jeans. The man behind the desk was the one Amber was more interestedin. He was in his early fifties, shaven headed and bespectacled, with a tallframe crammed into a much more comfortable looking chair. He was wearing a darksuit. Currently, he looked almost furious.

“Isaid that I’m in the middle of a session!” he snapped, rising to his feet.

Simonheld up his badge. “I’m sorry, Dr. Harvis, but this is urgent.” He turned tothe woman. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we need to speak to Dr. Harvis.”

Thewoman got up, looking worried, and hurried out of the room. Dr. Harvis looked,if anything, even more angry.

“Youdonotget to end one of my sessions,” he said.

Simondidn’t seem to be about to back down. “Dr. Harvis, three people have beenkilled in the last three days, and it’s possible the killer responsible for itwill keep going at that rate until he is stopped. I’m sorry to interrupt yourwork, but we do not have any time to wait.”

“Ido not believe that I’m stopping you from doing your jobs,” Dr. Harvis said. “Isimply don’t see what any of this has to do with me, or why you need to interruptmy work.”

“Becausewe need to talk to you,” Amber said. “We’re told that you’re an expert on theRorschach test.”

“Theexpert,” Dr. Harvis insisted.

“AndRorschach designs have been found at our murder scenes,” Simon said.

“So,you want my opinion on them?” Dr. Harvis asked.

“Yes,but we also want to know about your movements,” Simon said. “Where were youlast night?”

Dr.Harvis stood there next to his desk, his anger palpable now.

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