The Hidden Law Read Online Free PDF Page B

the lawyer. You probably heard of him.”
    Edith Rosen was a short, stocky woman in her early fifties, it looked like. Her plain face was comfortably lived-in but her gray eyes were wary and when she spoke there was an edge to her voice.
    “I’m sorry, I haven’t heard of Mr. Rios. Is there a problem?”
    I decided it would be a good idea to disassociate myself from Chuck whom apparently she disliked. “I stopped by to let you know that Jimmy Dee overdosed last night.”
    I handed her the letter she had written for Deeds. She looked at it and then at me, “Deeds?”
    “I found it in his room. He didn’t show up in court yesterday, so I went out looking for him.”
    “Ah,” she said, blinking. “Poor Deeds. He was your client?”
    “Yes.”
    “I’m so sorry.” She turned the envelope over and said, softly, “Deeds.”
    “I appreciate the letter,” I said.
    She gave me a tired smile. “He told me, ‘God must have put you in my life.’”
    “Yes, he was fond of invoking God,” I replied.
    “Maybe God answered,” Chuck said.
    She put the envelope on her desk. “Maybe your God, Chuck,” she replied, then said to me, “Chuck is one of those AA fundamentalists who thinks you’re better off dead than still drinking or using.”
    I said, “I can’t imagine any circumstances where anyone is better off dead.”
    My answer pleased her.
    Chuck cleared his throat and said, “Henry wants to talk to you about something else, too, Edie. That situation we discussed yesterday.”
    I quickly said, “Well, actually Chuck, you asked me about it.”
    “I know, I know, and thank you for taking it on. You two talk, all right? I’ll be in my office.” He scurried out of the room, leaving me to face a clearly irritated Rosen.
    “May I sit down?” I asked.
    “Sit.”
    I arranged myself uncomfortably in the chair and said, “This wasn’t my idea, Edith.”
    “What did he tell you?” she demanded.
    “He told me that one of your patients threatened the life of another patient, and that he wanted to expel him, but he needed you to back him up, and you refused.”
    “Did he tell you why?” she asked in the same, unyielding tone.
    “The psychotherapist privilege.”
    “No,” she said, “I mean, did he tell you why he needs me to back him up?”
    “No.”
    “Because he found out about it by rummaging through my files when I wasn’t here.”
    “I see,” I said. “I wondered why he just didn’t go ahead and expel the guy since it seemed that the privilege had been waived.”
    “The privilege is waived by disclosure,” she said, “not by breaking into the therapist’s files.”
    “Why would Chuck do something like that?”
    “Look around you, Mr. Rios,” she said, her eyes sweeping the tiny room. “It’s no accident that I’m in here. The Board of Directors forced Chuck to hire me because the state required it for SafeHouse to keep its funding, but he has no use for me. As far as Chuck is concerned, all you need to get sober is the big book and a few AA meetings.”
    “It’s worked for a lot of people,” I observed.
    “It doesn’t work for everyone,” she fired back. “The relapse rate for people coming into AA is ninety percent. Those nine out of ten obviously need something more.”
    “How does this explain why Chuck rifled your files?”
    “He thinks I’m a subversive,” she said. “He wants to know what I’m telling the residents.”
    “Look,” I said, “putting all that aside for a moment, this situation that he described does involve potential liability for you and the house if your patient carried out his threat.”
    “I know the law in this area, Mr. Rios, every therapist does. If I seriously thought that Michael was a threat to Gus…” She stopped abruptly, and took a sharp breath. “You didn’t know their names, did you?”
    I shook my head.
    “Sometimes when I’m angry I blurt things out that I shouldn’t,” she said, smiling wanly. “Freudian slip.”
    “As