Angel of Darkness by Katy Munger Page A

in no position to evaluate him objectively.
    â€˜You can’t think that way,’ the shrink told him. ‘We’ve worked too hard to throw it all away. If you keep accepting your illness, and doing what I ask you to do, you’ll have a chance at starting a new life one day.’
    â€˜But will that day ever come?’ Parker asked. He flexed his arms and rubbed the tops of his thighs, shifting his weight from leg to leg. He knew exactly what he was doing. If he’d had a spotlight he couldn’t have shined the psychiatrist on any more. ‘First I get arrested for something I didn’t even do, and then they say I’m crazy, and then they send me here with no release date in sight. I would’ve been better off going to prison. At least then I would have had a shot at getting out.’
    He managed to pour such hopelessness into this series of preposterous statements that even I felt sorry for him, until I remembered that there had been overwhelming evidence that Parker was indeed the killer. So much evidence, in fact, that even I had been able to connect the dots at a time when I was rarely sober for more than an hour at a stretch and could hardly find my files, much less solve the cases in them.
    â€˜If I knew when I had a chance to get out of here,’ Parker added slyly, ‘it might give me a reason to work even harder getting over what’s wrong with me.’
    The shrink was staring at him thoughtfully. Even he, so enamored of Parker, had his doubts. ‘I’m not likely to begin a conversation about your release from here for several years,’ he explained to Parker. ‘The things that are wrong with you are serious psychiatric disorders. We may never be able to change their power over your behavior. The best we can do may be simply to find the right mix of medications to help you control them. Whether or not I can let you out into the world under those circumstances is still uncertain. I want to be upfront with you. I want you to know that I will always tell you the truth.’
    â€˜But I’m in here for something I didn’t do,’ Parker insisted. ‘I’m presumed to be violent because of something that someone else did. And now I’ve got the proof. The other patients are saying a girl was killed yesterday,’ Parker said. He looked sorrowful with this loss of life. ‘That she was killed in the same way as the girls I was accused of murdering.’ He looked up at the psychiatrist, his eyes wide with hope. ‘Doesn’t that prove I wasn’t the one who killed those other girls? It’s the first ray of hope I’ve had in years.’
    The psychiatrist looked confused. ‘I hadn’t heard about another murder,’ he said cautiously. ‘I’ll have to look into it and see what I can find out.’
    Parker nodded eagerly. ‘Can you talk to my lawyer about it?’ Parker asked. ‘I don’t think he is smart enough to understand without your help.’
    â€˜I can consult with your lawyer about your condition,’ the psychiatrist said uneasily. ‘Beyond that, I cannot get involved. After all, I may be called to testify at your next competency hearing.’
    Parker leaned forward again, staring at the psychiatrist intently. He was really working it. ‘I can pay for your time, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have a lot of people who believe in me, who know I’m not guilty. Your support would mean so much to them.’
    Of course he had people convinced of his innocence. Even Charles Manson had his fan club. There were probably dozens of misguided women across the nation sending Otis Parker checks and transferring cash into his legal defense fund. If they had seen the same crime scene photos I had seen, they would have held on to their hard-earned dollars. And probably never gone outside their own front doors again, either.
    The psychiatrist had seen the same