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more interested in your personal opinion. May I ask you a direct question?” “I thought you just did.”
“Did you like Alicia?”
Max looked at me expressionlessly as he spoke. “Of course I did.”
I didn’t believe him. “I sense you’re wearing two different hats. The lawyer’s hat, which is understandably discreet. And the brother’s hat. It’s the brother I came to see.”
There was a pause. I wondered if Max was about to ask me to leave. He seemed about to say something but changed his mind. Then he suddenly left the desk and went to the window. He opened it. There was a blast of cold air. Max breathed in deeply, as if the room had been stifling him.
Finally he said in a low voice, “The truth is ... I hated her ... I loathed her.”
I didn’t say anything. I waited for him to go on.
He kept looking out the window and said slowly, “Gabriel wasn’t just my brother, he was my best
friend. He was the kindest man you ever met. Too kind. And all his talent, his goodness, his passion for life—wiped out, because of that bitch. It wasn’t just his life she destroyed—it was mine too. Thank God my parents didn’t live to see it.” Max choked up, suddenly emotional.
It was hard not to sense his pain, and I felt sorry for him. “It must have been extremely difficult for you to organize Alicia’s defense.”
Max shut the window and returned to the desk. He had regained control of himself. He was wearing the lawyer’s hat again. Neutral, balanced, emotionless.
He shrugged. “It’s what Gabriel would have wanted. He wanted the best for Alicia, always. He was mad about her. She was just mad.”
“You think she was insane?”
“You tell me—you’re her shrink.”
“What do you think?”
“I know what I observed.”
“And what was that?”
“Mood swings. Rages. Violent fits. She’d break things, smash stuff up. Gabriel told me she
threatened to murder him on several occasions. I should have listened, done something—after she tried to kill herself, I should have intervened, insisted she got some help. But I didn’t. Gabriel was determined to protect her, and like an idiot, I let him.”
Max sighed and checked his watch—a cue for me to wrap up the conversation.
But I just stared at him blankly. “Alicia tried to kill herself? What do you mean? When? You mean after the murder?”
Max shook his head. “No, several years before that. You don’t know? I assumed you knew.” “When was this?”
“After her father died. She took an overdose ... pills or something. I can’t remember exactly. She
had a kind of breakdown.”
I was about to press him further when the door opened. The receptionist appeared and spoke in a
sniffly voice. “Darling, we should go. We’ll be late.”
“Right. Coming, dear.”
The door shut. Max stood up, giving me an apologetic glance. “We have theater tickets.” I must