John Verdon

Wolf Lake


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male voice: “What possibilities other than suicide are you looking at?”

      “We’re not currently focused on possibilities other than suicide, but on how and why the suicide occurred.”

      A female voice: “What did you mean when you said that it might not have been suicide in the ‘normal sense’ of the term?”

      “Well, let’s say, just hypothetically, that a powerful form of hypnotic suggestion influenced a person to do something they would not have done of their own accord. That would not be a normal action. It would not be done in the ‘normal sense’ of that action.”

      Several voices were raised at once, competing in volume. One astounded male voice predominated: “Are you claiming that Richard Hammond used hypnosis to bring about Gall’s suicide, as well as the suicides of three other patients?”

      Utterances of surprise and skepticism spread around the room.

      Fenton raised his hand. “Let’s keep it orderly, okay? I’m not claiming anything. What I’m sharing with you is one hypothesis. There may be others.”

      His most recent questioner continued, “Are you planning to arrest Dr. Hammond for . . . for what crime?”

      “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We hope to obtain Dr. Hammond’s voluntary cooperation. We need to know what, if anything, happened in those hypnosis sessions that could explain the nightmares his patients later experienced and the ritualistic suicides that ensued.”

      Two female voices at once: “Ritualistic?”

      A male voice: “What ritualistic elements were involved? Are we talking satanic?”

      Another male voice: “Can you give us the identities of the other three victims?”

      A female voice: “Is ‘victims’ the right term for suicides?”

      Fenton raised his voice. “Hey, please, some order here. As for the term ‘victims’—I think that’s a reasonable term under the circumstances. We’ve got four people who all killed themselves in pretty much the same way with a weapon they dreamt about after they’d been hypnotized. This is obviously more than a coincidence. Regarding the ritualistic aspect, all I can divulge is that the weapon used in each case was unusual and, according to experts we’ve consulted, highly significant.”

      A male voice: “If your theory is correct—that these victims were put under some kind of hypnotic spell that resulted in suicide—what would the criminal charge be? Are we talking about some new kind of murder?”

      “The answer to that will be determined as we go along.”

      The questions went on for half an hour. Fenton showed no impatience with this. If anything, he seemed to be urging the reporters on—an unusual behavior, Gurney thought, for a stolid, conservative-looking cop.

      Finally he announced that the briefing was over.

      “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your cooperation. You can pick up copies of my statement on your way out.”

      Chairs were pushed back, people began standing, and the video ended.

      Gurney sat at his desk for several long minutes, astounded.

      He picked up a pen and began jotting down some questions of his own. When he was halfway down the page he remembered that there was still more material in the file Jane had assembled—Richard Hammond’s own statement to the press, plus examples of the media coverage that Fenton’s briefing had generated.

      Gurney opened the folder again, took out a handful of news website printouts, and riffled through them. There was no need to read the complete text of any of these more recent articles. The insinuating headlines told the story.

       THE DEATH WHISPERER

       DID THIS DOCTOR TALK HIS PATIENTS INTO KILLING THEMSELVES?

       POLICE LINK CONTROVERSIAL THERAPIST TO RITUAL SUICIDES

       COULD A DREAM BE A MURDER WEAPON?

      Before he was halfway through the pile of printouts, Gurney put them aside and leaned back in his chair. He found himself fascinated by the underlying facts and baffled by the aggressively public approach being taken by Gil Fenton—which represented not only the embrace of a wild hypothesis but also a departure from NYSP communications policies.

      There was one final item in the folder, a single typewritten page with a long heading: Notice to the Press: Statement by Dr. Richard Hammond Regarding the Investigation into the Deaths of Christopher Wenzel, Leo Balzac, Steven Pardosa, and Ethan Gall.

      Gurney read with increasing interest:

      Serious allegations were made recently to the news media by a representative of New York State law enforcement concerning the deaths of the four individuals named above. These allegations are reckless and misleading.

      This statement will be my first, final, and only response. I will not be drawn into the charade being staged by incompetent police investigators. I will not cooperate with them in any way until they cease their malicious campaign of character assassination. Nor will I communicate with representatives of the news media whose embrace of the libelous insinuations of the police are proof of their amoral appetite for sensation.

      In short, I will neither participate in, nor publicly debate, nor devote my resources to the obstruction of this farcical investigation and media soap opera. I will hire no attorney, no PR firm, no spokesperson, no defenders of any kind.

      Let me be perfectly clear. Suggestions or insinuations that I contributed in any way to the deaths of four individuals are absolutely false. Let me repeat and underscore the simple truth. The deaths of Christopher Wenzel, Leo Balzac, Steven Pardosa, and Ethan Gall were tragic events in which I have played no role whatsoever. They deserve a full and objective investigation, not this degrading circus initiated by malicious police personnel and propagated by a vile news industry.

       —Richard Hammond, PhD

      Gurney found the statement remarkable for its bravado—especially since it was authored by the same man who had been paralyzed with fear over the highly unlikely possibility of there being a dead body in the trunk of his car.

       CHAPTER 8

      From Gurney’s point of view, the Palm Beach Police Department was just the right size—big enough to have its own detective bureau, small enough to ensure that his contact there would be aware of the key points of any investigation that was underway. Best of all, Lieutenant Bobby Becker owed him a favor. Less than two years earlier, with Gurney’s considerable assistance, Becker had managed to put away a vicious serial murderer.

      Becker took his call immediately, his gentle drawl fully deployed. “Detective Gurney. What a surprise!” The way he inflected that final word made it sound like it wasn’t a surprise at all. “A pleasure to hear from you. I do hope all is well?”

      “I’m good. How about you?”

      “Can’t complain. Or, I should say, I prefer not to complain. Complainin’ is a waste of the time we could be better usin’ to eliminate the causes of our complaints.”

      “Christ, Becker, you sound more good ole boy than ever.”

      “I’m happy to hear that. It is, after all, my native tongue. A Floridian born and bred. We are outnumbered now almost to extinction. Rare birds in our own tree. What can I do for you?”

      Gurney hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I’ve been asked to get involved in a case that has roots in a number of jurisdictions. One of them is Palm Beach.”

      “Let me take a wild guess. Might you be talking about the ‘Deadly Doctor’ case? That’s what they’re calling it down here—when