Page 44

Dear Diary:March 10

We had what Marc called an omnibus (whatever that means) hearing today. Marc asked the judge to throw out the evidence as, I’m not sure what this means either, too prejudicial and with little probative value. He said the search warrant they used on my dorm was not specific enough to allow them to use the diaries they took. And the hammer has no physical evidence that it is the correct hammer.

The judge ruled against us. He said the hammer comes in and the jury can decide if it is sufficient evidence. The diaries come in because the prosecution claimed they contained statements by me that were against my interest and showed motive because I hate the people who were murdered. Marc told me he was not surprised and expected it. The judge set the trial date for Monday, May 2.

It is all starting to sound so real. I have been charged with 5 murders and I can’t remember if I did it or not. I mean, it sounds so crazy. I couldn’t do something like that, could I? It’s a bad dream and I hope I wake up soon.

Maddy was about as frustrated as she ever gets. Between the two doctors, the surgeon, Walter Miller and the shrink, Phillip Friedman, there were over three hundred complaints and threatening letters. Most of them were petty problems, especially for Dr. Miller. The number one complaint about him was the pain post-op patients had to deal with. His surgical nurse warned Maddy about that. According to her they expect zero pain.

What was amazing about the letters was how many people signed them. There were over forty who threatened physical harm, even death and signed their real names to them or sent emails with their name on it.

Maddy’s phone buzzed in her coat pocket it. It was Marc probably checking in.

“Hi,” she answered.

“How is it going?” Marc asked.

“It’s not. I’m just leaving one now. A woman over eighty who, get this, threatened to, ahem, the nice way of putting it is, castrate Dr. Miller.”

Marc laughed while asking, “What did she really say?”

“Cut off his balls and shove them down his throat,” Maddy answered.

When Marc finished laughing, he said, “We should have done what you suggested. Stick to the serious ones first. Are you in your car?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Come by the office. You can take me to lunch. ”

“Okay,” Maddy said. Then she added, whispering as if she did not want anyone to hear her, “We could then sneak home for a while. You’ve been neglectful of late.”

“I’m there every night. Sorry, I have a court appearance this afternoon. But keep the thought.”

When Maddy arrived at Marc’s office, Tony Carvelli was also there. Even though Marc’s door was wide open, Maddy being Maddy had to make the rounds to greet everyone. By the time she finished, Connie had joined Marc and Tony at her smoking window.

“Tony agrees, you’re not having much luck,” Marc said to Maddy.

“Where are you taking me to lunch? I’m starving,” Maddy said.

“You should’ve got yourself out of bed and had breakfast. We can go across the street,” Marc said referring to a comfort food diner kitty corner from their building.

“I had an idea on the drive back,” Maddy said.

She turned to speak to Carvelli and said, “We need to go after people like Robbie. Those that went through the trans process and didn’t really want to. Teens and even younger ones.”

“Yeah, good idea. Where and how do we find them? Have you found any identified in the letters we have?” Carvelli replied.

“No, I haven’t thought about that and I don’t know…” Maddy said.

“Robbie,” Marc said interrupting Maddy. “He is in a trans group. They meet at the Southdale Library once a week. There are people out there helping trans people of both sexes deal with their regrets. Robbie’s group might know one or two.”

“Call her,” Maddy said.

While Marc searched for Robbie’s phone number on his computer, Maddy said, “I’m still not comfortable calling Robbie that. Using the pronoun her.”

“That’s because you know he doesn’t want to be a her,” Connie said.

By now, Marc had Robbie on the phone explaining what he wanted .

“I know two of them,” Robbie said. “I’ve even thought of calling them. One of the girls in my group has worked with them. They’re a married couple both cisgender…”

“Which means?” Marc asked.

“They’re not trans. They’re straights I guess you could call them. They’re both clinical psychologists. I guess, or I’ve been told, they have a very busy therapy practice.”

“Names?” Marc asked.

“I only know first names. Mike and Janet something. Let me make a call and I’ll find out,” Robbie said.

“Get a phone number and address where their clinic is located.”

“Will do.”

While Robbie was calling his trans group friend, Marc made another call.

“Dr. Butler, please,” he said when the phone was answered.

“May I tell her who’s calling?”

“Marc Kadella.”

Fifteen seconds later, she said, “Hello, Marc, what can I do for you?”

“I have the names of a married couple, psychologists who work with trans people…”

“Damn, Mike and Janet Curtis. I should’ve thought of them myself,” Butler said.

“You know them?”

“I know of them. I’ve met them once or twice. They do a lot with trans people. Before, during and after. I’ve heard good things. Why are you asking?”

Marc explained what they were doing and why he was looking for professional help.

When he finished, Butler said, “Yes, they would be at the top of my list to help you. I’m sorry I didn’t think of them sooner.”

“Don’t worry about it, Lorraine. Your stamp of approval is enough help. I’ll be in touch.”

“She knows them and recommends them,” Marc told the others.

A minute later Ryan the receptionist buzzed Marc to let him know Robbie was calling .

Marc answered Robbie’s call by saying, “Mike and Janet Curtis.”

“You called Lorraine and she told you, didn’t you?” Robbie asked.

“Yeah, she gave them a good recommendation. You have phone numbers and addresses?”

“Yep, ready?”

* * *

At ten minutes past five o’clock, a somewhat heavy set man came into the reception area. He was escorting a woman and a teenage boy. Obviously, patients.

He waited at the scheduling counter while the woman made their next appointment. After walking them to the exit, he turned to greet Marc, Maddy and Carvelli.

“Come on back,” he said. “I’ll buzz Janet, she wants to join us.”

As Mike Curtis led them back to his office, Marc thanked him for taking the time to see them.

“No problem,” Mike replied, “In fact, given our reputation about children and trans, I’ve sort of been hoping you’d call.”

He opened his office door then stepped aside to let them in. As he did so, a woman’s voice came from behind.

“They’re here. Excellent,” Janet Curtis said.

Janet was Mike’s opposite. Where Mike was heavy set with a full head of gray hair, Janet was slender, almost bony, with dark brown hair.

They introduced themselves when they were all seated. Maddy, sitting next to Carvelli, turned to him, took his hand and said, “Okay, this is when we do the intervention.”

The room went silent while Carvelli looked around wondering if she meant it. Maddy laughed, kissed him on the cheek while the others laughed a bit at Carvelli’s discomfort.

“I half-expected a couple of big guys wearing white to come in with a strait jacket,” Carvelli said.

“We’ll take it under advisement,” Marc said .

“How’s your client holding up?” Mike asked Marc.

“Robbie? Sometimes better than others,” Marc replied.

“Yes, I can only imagine,” Mike said.

“What can we help you with?” Janet asked. “Bearing in mind that we are restricted by what we can tell you.”

“What can you tell us?” Marc asked.

“Nothing much about specific patients. We can discuss general things. But if you’re looking for other trans people to point to…,” Mike started to say.

“No, of course not,” Marc quickly interrupted him. “How about this. Did you know of a Phillip…”

“Friedman,” Janet said. “We sure did.”

“Let me put it this way,” Mike said. “We have patients who celebrated when he was murdered. From what we heard about him; we were surprised he lived as long as he did.”

Shocked, Marc asked, “Would you be willing to testify to that?”

“Yes, because,” Mike began to answer then paused, “just between us, and I guess you’ll have to take my word for it, we don’t have any trans patients that we could point to as possible suspects.”

“Okay,” Marc agreeably said. “How about the surgeon, Walter Miller?”

Mike looked at his wife who answered by saying, “Yes, we’ve heard of him. He’s the number one trans surgeon in Minnesota. Probably the entire Upper Midwest.”

“There’s a lot of money being spent on this, especially kids being pushed into it,” Mike said.

“We’ve heard,” Maddy said.

“Trans affirmation on minors, in my opinion,” Mike said, “has to stop. Anything medical. Surgery, drugs, breast enhancements, puberty blockers, all of it. If a kid wants to try it out, try dressing like a girl for the experience, fine. But, that’s it.”

“He can change his mind, or she, and stop wearing a dress or boys’ clothes,” Janet said.

“Most of us wear boys’ clothes anyway,” Maddy said.

“They’re more comfortable and casual fashionable,” Janet said .

“Can you subpoena Friedman’s trans files? And Miller’s?” Mike asked.

“Yes, we can,” Marc said.

“Those we can go through and give our opinion about their potential for murder,” Mike said.

“I thought about that. I’ll get a subpoena going to get the files of the trans patients of both Friedman and Miller. We have a pile of complaint letters to both Friedman and Miller. We could go through those and try to identify the trans patients.”

“Do that and send us those,” Mike said.

“I’ll get back to you. Would you send me copies of your Curriculum Vitaes, please?” Marc asked.

“I’ll take care of it,” Janet said.

Maddy, realizing Marc was still awake, rolled over on their bed to face him. She picked up his arm, put it around her shoulders and snuggled up to him.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked.

“Thinking,” Marc replied.

“About?”

“I’m gonna put this trans affirmation of children on trial,” Marc said.

Maddy pushed up, leaning on an elbow and said, “Oh?”

“Doing this to children needs to stop. Once someone becomes an adult, if he or she does it, fine. But children…” Marc said.

“You’re right, too many children are pushed into it and end up regretting it.”

Marc rolled over on his side to face Maddy, kissed her and asked, “You with me?”

“Of course I’m with you.”

Maddy sat up, pulled off the T-shirt she was wearing climbed on top of Marc and said, “As long as we’re both awake, we might as well take advantage of it.”