"Ty Drago - Bitter Reflections" - читать интересную книгу автора (Drago Ty)

He shrugged and took a long swallow. "I've lost track. I don't like to sleep.┬╖"
Loretta sipped the brandy. It was excellent. "I have to tell you, Mr. Benedict. I don't
appreciate the lateness of this visit. I don't make house calls, especially at this hour."

Benedict's face was expressionless. "Then why did you come?"
"Because you promised to ruin me if I didn't. And I know enough of your resources and
reputation to believe you would do it. I didn't care to be ruined."

"I'm desperate, Doctor," he said sharply. "It's a condition I'm not accustomed to and one that
I don't enjoy. I've checked you out. You're the best psychiatrist in your field, at least in this
part of the country. I need you. So you're here."

"You might have asked me to come, rather than immediately turn to threats."
Benedict fixed her with a harsh look. For a moment, Loretta recognized the brilliant, financial
predator hidden within this pale, emaciated form. "I do not 'ask' for anything Dr. Capinelli. I
never have. I never will."

Loretta shrugged and sipped her brandy. She hadn't been completely honest with him when
she'd said her being here was a reaction to his threats. She feared him, yes, but there was
second reason for her agreement to come out to this Long Island mansion at three o'clock
on a stormy night.

She'd come because his phone call had piqued her professional curiosity. She wanted to
find out what could have terrified such a man; what could have driven him to call her home
and demand her services in a strained, almost childlike voice. Loretta knew that tone. She'd
heard it a thousand times in her fifteen-year practice. It was the voice of cold, pure panic;
something to which everyone responded differently. Benedict, being a predator, reacted to
his horror as a cornered animal might, lashing out in savage desperation toward any avenue
of rescue.
"Very well, then," she said, slipping into her professional role. "You were rather vague on the
phone. What exactly is it that's troubling you?"
Benedict looked at her, a curious expression on his face. He looked like a schoolyard bully
who'd finally met his match and now found himself forced to beg for mercy. "I need you... to
tell me... that I'm insane."
Loretta raised her eyebrows. "I don't understand."

Benedict nodded. "I'm sure having a... patient... who wants desperately to be told he's crazy
must be one for the books. But that's my situation." He took another long swallow of brandy
and met her gaze with eyes that spoke of deep and profound dread. "You see, Doctor. If I
am not insane, then what has been happening to me is real. I can't have that." His voice
cracked and rose. "I CAN'T HAVE THAT!"

He lowered his head, suddenly seeming small and vulnerable. Loretta leaned forward,
astonished and intensely curious. "Mr. Benedict," she said gently. "I'm a psychiatrist and, as
you've said, I'm rather good at what I do. I can tell you with a high degree of certainty that you
are not insane. The insane rarely question their sanity. So why don't you just tell me what IS
happening to you, and we'll take it from there."
Benedict drew several breaths, and then he nodded and raised his head. "I'm going to grant
you a supreme privilege, Doctor," he said. "I'm going to tell you the truth... the whole truth...
and nothing but the truth. That's also something I'm not accustomed to.