The 5 Stages of Grief

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Book 4, Depression / Chapter 1, Marcus

How did I miss that? Marcus sat in the same chair, the same position actually, since he’d not moved a muscle since the two of them left about an hour ago – close enough at least. Had they planned it – the flanking maneuver? What were they thinking? What was their game?

He wasn’t angry, not in the least, he felt more wonder than anything, a new-found respect. He’d never expected anything like this from the two of them, they seemed so delightful. Not like the big cop, Lieutenant King, he thought with a shudder. That’s why he’d done his best to have the brute removed from their sessions. Marcus figured he could handle the two little ones, outsmart them, but the Lieutenant that was another story. He’d been around, not so easy to play with, you could see it in his eyes.

The funny part, what had him sitting contemplating, assessing the situation, is he’d never thought of playing the insanity card – the idea had never crossed his mind. His intention all along was to negotiate his sentence down using the notes from the Doctor. Well, Dr. Alexander had certainly sprung that trap. Or had he? He would have to give that question a lot more thought, which was exactly what he was doing at the moment.

He’d heard doing time in psychiatric was a week at the Hilton compared to the penitentiary. It made sense – but could he handle all the loonies in there? He grinned picturing Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over the Cookoo’s Nest. Would he end up like Jack –Randle? Or would he make it out and intact? How would he play it to get them to think he was crazy? That was going to be a tough one, changing gears midstride so to speak. Would they catch on? Was the reward worth the risk?

He ran the last conversation with Dr. Alexander and Miss Tattershall through his head one more time. He could not play the hospital card now of that he was certain – it would have to be them, their idea, they would have to believe he was crazy. How would a crazy person think? What would a crazy person do with the information he held? Was the Doctor being truthful or just trying to trick him into giving up Dr. Reichmann’s notes? No matter which way he spun it there was risk, he could get screwed-over either way.

“You ready to talk yet?” The big cop came in filling the little room, breaking his concentration. He barely noticed the other two following behind him since the Lieutenant occupied so much of the space. Marcus would have joked that he blocked out the sun if there’d been any though unfortunately he hadn’t seen the outdoors in days.

“Not to you,” he pointed with his chin, “to those two. You have to go or I don’t talk.” He clamped his mouth tight, pressing his lips white, pulling closed an imaginary zipper, to get his point across.

“Why you little, fucking—”

“That’s enough Sam. We’ll be alright.” It was Dr. Alexander. Always the hero.

The cop scowled at him once more before leaving in an attempt to unnerve him – worked a little too. Had they planned it that way? He would have to think about that.

“Have you made any decisions, ahh—?”

“Marcus, Doctor. The name is Marcus. How quickly we forget.”

“I’m sorry Marcus. It’s been a busy day – a busy week as I am sure you know. Too much work and too little sleep.” The redhead looked to blush a bit with that statement. I wonder if I can use that to my advantage?

He stared at the pair a while longer then at each, individually. The Doctor did not flinch, not the slightest, although Miss Tattershall did not like being under his observant eye, not one bit. It made him smile. “Yes I have.” He paused, waited. Best let them come to you, keep the power.

“Well – what is it?” This time it was her speaking. He hadn’t expected her to talk after the last time. Tougher than I thought.

“I have decided to trust you, the both of you, to put myself and my life in your hands. I believe you will do the right thing.” There, he’d done it. He’d no idea if it was the right thing or not, more of a gut feeling. The two of them looked at him as if he were crazy. That had to count for something, had to work to his benefit. “You can find the notebook in…”

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