Read Denial for Free Online Page B

of my face.  Until I had this dream.  I can tell you because you're a shrink, so I know there's not a lot you haven't heard before.  Remember how Malloy, that prick, said Sarah was hot, even though she was dead?"
    "Sure."
    "Well, I must have filed that away somewhere.  And I guess he was right because I... well... I took advantage of her in the lab.  I made love to her after the autopsy."
    "In your dream?"
    "Of course, in my dream .  What do you think I'm crazy?"
    "Go on."
    "That's it.  I made love to her after she was dead.  Just like Westmoreland.  He didn't rape her, then kill her.  He killed her and then raped her.  That's why she didn't put up a fight, didn't even tighten up down there.  She couldn't because she was dead."
    That seemed believable.  I took a drag off my cigarette.
    "You there?" he asked.
    "Is there a test that can prove it?"
    "Nothing definitive, but I've got something that fits.  Normally, involuntary smooth muscle contractions sweep semen up beyond the cervix, even in cases of rape.  In Sarah there was no sperm beyond the vagina.  I figure by the time Westmoreland violated her, her muscles weren't doing much more than twitching."
    "Not bad, my friend.  Not bad at all."
    "I just don't know why I didn't think of it right away.  I mean, screwing corpses isn't exactly unheard of.  I've had at least one other case myself."
    "You couldn't think it, only dream it."
    "Huh?"
    "You couldn’t entertain Westmoreland having sex with her after she was dead because you wanted her yourself.  Right there on the dissecting table.  Just like Malloy did.  You had to suppress the whole idea.  But the id is a tenacious bastard, Paulson.  Take it from me."
    "You're talking to a pathologist, Frank.  With all the brains I've dissected, I've never found an id.  If I can't see it, you're gonna have trouble convincing me it's there."
    "We all rely on your concrete thinking."
    "What did you think about her being shaved?"
    "She looked good — a lot better than the slides you made of her fibrotic breasts."
    "Well, I'm glad you said it."  He cleared his throat.  "The trouble is, I doubt all this is going to change anything for Westmoreland."
    "Maybe.  Maybe not."
    "Last time I checked, the sentence for raping, then murdering, was the same as for murdering, then raping."
    I wiped my nose and noticed a streak of blood across my fingers.  "Why are you so sure he's the one who killed her?"
    "I'm not.  I'm not sure at all.  But I'm a realist.  The way Malloy and Hancock are moving on this, it might not matter — especially now, with Sam Fitzgerald involved."
    Sam Fitzgerald was a forensic psychiatrist whose expert opinions varied predictably with who was paying his fee.
    "What do you mean, with Fitzgerald involved? " I asked.
    "I thought you knew.  Hancock hired him on.  I went down to hand over my preliminary report last night, and Fitz was just heading in to see Westmoreland.  He said he'd be calling you right after he finished up."
    "So much for the Sacred Heart School for Girls."
    "Sacred what?"
    "Nothing."  I blew a smoke ring and watched it float away.  "I should know by now that the straight path will only take you where somebody else wants you to go."
     
    *            *            *
     
    I needed more sleep but didn't have time for it.  Luckily, I hadn't killed my supply.  I grabbed my jeans off the floor, fished one of the little cellophane packets out of the pocket and sucked up what was left.  Then I headed for the shower.
    The warm water running over my back relaxed me.  I leaned into the corner and let my face rest between the cool marble walls.  Rachel came into my mind, seated on that barstool in her satin robe, open nearly to her crotch.  I started to touch myself.  I imagined she had let my hand linger on her leg.  I separated her knees and traced the inside of one thigh with my finger.  With my other hand I yanked her stool closer to mine.  I could