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"Well, why not?"
"Perhaps many of those who saw the report weren't aware of the dangers
involved in the terms."
"Did you attempt to impress the sense of danger upon anyone?"
"I explained my worries to several members of the Probation Department"
"And still no action was taken?"
"They said that surely Mr. Murphey, an important member of the community,
couldn't be dangerous, that possibly I was mistaken."
"I see. Did you make any personal effort to help this defendant?"
"I attempted to interest him in religion."
"Without success?"
"That's right."
"Have you examined defendant recently?"
"Last Wednesday-which was my second examination of him since he was arrested."
"And what did you find?"
"He's suffering from a condition I'd define as a paranoid state."
"Could he have known the nature and consequences of his act?"
"No, sir. His mental condition would've been such as to override any
considerations of law or morality."
Bondelli turned away, stared for a long moment at the District Attorney, then:
"That is all, doctor."
The District Attorney passed a finger across the squared-off hairline of his
forehead, studied his notes on the testimony.
Kelexel, absorbed in the intricacies of the scene, nodded to himself. The
natives obviously had a rudimentary legal system and sense of justice, but it
was all very crude. Still, it reminded him of his own guilt.
Could that be why Ruth showed him this?
he wondered. Was she saying: "You, too, could be punished"? A paroxysm of
shame convulsed him then. He felt that somehow Ruth had put him on trial here,
placed him by proxy in that room of judgment which the pantovive reproduced.
He suddenly identified with her father, sharing
the native's emotion through the pantovive's sensimesh web.
And Murphey was seated in silent rage, the emotion directed with violent
intensity against
Thurlow who still sat in the witness chair.
That immune must be destroyed!
Kelexel thought
The pantovive's image focus shifted slightly, centered on the District
Attorney. Paret arose, limped to a position below Thurlow, leaned on the cane.
Paret's narrow mouth was held in a thin look of primness, but anger smoldered
from the eyes.
"Mr. Thurlow," he said, pointedly withholding the title of doctor. "Am I
correct in assuming that, in your opinion, defendant was incapable of
determining right from wrong on the night he killed his wife?"
Thurlow removed his glasses. His eyes appeared gray and defenseless without
them. He wiped the lenses, replaced them, dropped his hands to his lap. "Yes,
sir."
"And the kinds of tests you administered, were they generally the same kinds
as were administered to this defendant by Dr. Whelye and those who agreed with
him?"
"Essentially the same --inkblot, wool sorting, various other shifting tests."
Paret consulted his notes. "You've heard Dr. Whelye testify that defendant was
legally and medically sane at the time of this crime?"
"I heard that testimony, sir."
"You're aware that Dr. Whelye is former police psychiatrist for the city of
Los Angeles and served in the Army medical corps at the Nuremberg trials?"
"I'm aware of Dr. Whelye's qualifications." There was a lonely, defensive
quality to
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Thurlow's voice that brought a twinge of sympathy to Kelexel as he watched.
"You see what they're doing to him?" Ruth asked.
"What does it matter?" Kelexel asked. But even as he spoke, Kelexel realized
that
Thurlow's fate mattered enormously. And this was precisely because Thurlow,
even though he was being destroyed and knew it, was sticking to his
principles. There was no doubt that
Murphey was insane. He'd been driven insane by Fraffin-for a purpose.
I was that purpose,
Kelexel thought
"Then you have heard," Paret said, "this expert medical testimony rule out any
element of organic brain damage in this case? You've heard these qualified
medical men testify that defendant shows no manic tendencies, that he does not
now suffer and never has suffered from a condition which could be legally
described as insanity?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you can explain why you've arrived at a conflicting opinion to these
qualified medical men?"
Thurlow uncrossed his legs, planted both feet firmly on the floor. He put his
hands on the arms of his chair, leaned forward. "That's quite simple, sir.
Ability in psychiatry and psychology is usually judged by results. In this
case, I stake my claim to a different viewpoint on the fact that I
predicted this crime."
Anger darkened Paret's face.
Kelexel heard Ruth whispering: "Andy, oh, Andy ... oh, Andy ... " Her voice
sent a sudden pain through Kelexel's breast and he hissed: "Be silent!"
Again, Paret consulted his notes, then: "You're a psychologist, not a
psychiatrist, is that
correct?"
"I'm a clinical psychologist."
"What's the difference between a psychologist and a psychiatrist?"
"A psychologist is a specialist in human behavior who does not have a medical
degree.
The ... "
"And you disagree with men who do have medical degrees?"
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