"Broussard, John - The Threat" - читать интересную книгу автора (Broussard John A)THE THREAT
By John Broussard "She's even threatening suicide." Clint Lord's voice broke. I still didn't really understand why Clint was sitting in my office telling me about his depressed wife. My suggestion that a doctor, not an attorney, should be the object of his consultation merely unleashed a flood. He had consulted a doctor, the family's physician. They had been to therapists. Anna Lord's depression had been going on for years, but was now worse than ever, and the climax came when Clint checked out one of the pills her doctor had prescribed and which she'd been on for months-Thanazac. "I searched for it on the Internet, and at least a dozen people report that they've known someone on Thanazac who threatened and then actually committed suicide." Clint was becoming increasingly agitated. "We have to get her into a hospital where she can get decent treatment, but she absolutely refuses to go. She's just not herself, and I can't be watching her every minute." Finally, the reason for the visit was becoming clear. Involuntary commitment! A sticky procedure at best. But it couldn't be any worse than some of the vicious divorce cases I've handled and, besides, my practice wasn't exactly booming. Clint's case would put off ambulance chasing for a while, if nothing else. A retainer fee, reassurance that I would move immediately on the matter, and a goodbye handshake terminated the consultation. An immediate bit of research on my part to see what would be involved followed. My original assumptions proved to be correct. It wouldn't be easy, especially now that I'd had to cut off even a temp secretary who used to do all that peon work for me. Times were tough, and there was just so much cutting back I could do. I'd been looking for a reasonable, used BMW to replace my old and ailing Ford. I was impressed with the prices and depressed by my bank account. I knew I wouldn't get rich off of a commitment hearing, especially since Clint had made it clear that he was borrowing on his plastic to pay me. And I did have other cases pending -- a driving under the influence, a codicil to a will and a continuing and bitter property-line dispute, all of which were in need of more immediate attention. So it wasn't until the next day that I settled down, earlier than usual, to serious research in an area I really knew little about. By nine I had a motion roughed out, and I gave Clint a ring to arrange a court date. I didn't reach him. Instead, a voice, identifying itself as Detective Sergeant McCloskey, gave me the news. Anna Lord was dead from a drug overdose, and Clint was in no condition to talk to an attorney or to anyone else for that matter. I'd like to say my first reaction was concern for my client and his deceased wife. It wasn't. All I could think of was how much of the retainer I would have to return. And that's when it struck me. A threat of suicide, suicide, medication associated with suicide! Perhaps there was something more here with Anna dead than with Anna alive. And Clint had said that he'd done some Internet research on the medication. I checked through my notes to find the name. Thanazac! A long defense by the drug company stressed that there were no studies to indicate that depressed persons taking Thanazac were any more prone to suicide than depressed persons on other drugs or on no drugs at all. But, to my notion, the argument that "It must be remembered that Thanazac is an antidepressant, and depressed persons are at risk for suicide" was, at the very least, self serving. My own view was reinforced by studies from respectable research centers indicating that there was an extraordinary correlation between suicide and the use of the drug. By noon I saw a new vista opening before me-a ten million-dollar lawsuit against the drug company. And hadn't Clint said that he'd alerted the doctor to the drug's effects? Why not include the physician in the suit? Why just ten million? Why not a class-action suit? Dow Corning had settled for billions. The tobacco companies where hemorrhaging money in suits all over the country. I begin thinking Lamberghini instead of BMW. What I needed to do was to get to Clint as soon as possible, before some other eager lawyer beat me to him. It was while I was debating the best approach to a grieving husband that I received a visit from Detective Sergeant McCloskey. He quickly explained how Clint had told the investigating officers that several people knew about Anna's threats of suicide, including his doctor, his attorney, several friends and neighbors. To my questions, he informed me that the death was probably the result of an overdose of sedatives but that, of course, the actual cause would have to await an autopsy. In retrospect, I think I should have wondered a bit more about the reason for the visit, and certainly I said too much, but I guess it wouldn't really have made much difference in the long run. Besides, McCloskey certainly ended up saying too much. I began by sharing some of my recently discovered information and told him that, "Not only did he tell me his wife was talking about suicide, but he also told me that she was on Thanazac, which is already suspected of inducing suicide. That's what had him so concerned." McCloskey seemed suddenly unsympathetic. That was when he told me that Anna had never taken Thanazac, that she had been reluctant to take any drugs despite her doctor's prescriptions and her husband's urging. Every pill prescribed by her doctor was accounted for, since she had secretly given them to a close friend who had produced them for the police. He added, though by that time the addition wasn't necessary for me to see which way the wind was blowing, that Clint had a girlfriend. Of much greater significance to me was McCloskey's comment that Clint was now in custody, had been read his rights, and that I could expect a phone call from him. The phone rang at almost that moment. I didn't have to hear Clint's voice to write off the Lamberghini. ### THE THREAT first appeared in http://www.cyclopz.com (July 29 issue). John A. Broussard, a college teacher for 20 years, was born in Cambridge, Mass in 1924 and received an AB at Harvard '49 and an MA and Ph.D. at University of Washington. Having eighty or so more short stories, a screenplay and over a dozen novels sitting on his computer waiting for publication, he is a commercial reviewer of historic, travel and mystery/suspense books and a reviewer of books and tapes for AAAS. He has had some success with non-fiction and has had several articles published and thirty short stories sold recently. Those interested can find more details on his Web Site at http://www.fictionwritings.com or can contact him at |
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