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irritable bowel syndrome.”

“Anything else happen?”

“She started to feel better and left.”

“Describe an abdominal exam, the way you did it on Miss Harding that night,” Valentine said.

“The patient’s knees were flexed to relax the stomach muscles, and I placed my hand over her abdomen. I felt for rigidity, masses, and effusion. I made sure there were no aneurysms, and then I palpated the organs and checked for rebound tenderness.”

“How far down on the stomach did you go?”

“I examined the entire abdomen. From just under the rib cage down to the upper groin area.”

“You didn’t go any lower than the ‘upper groin area’?” Valentine asked.

“No.”

“And what happened after the exam?”

“Like I said, she just left.”

“And the phone calls?”

“Oh, she made them just before she left. She said something about not wanting anyone to worry about her not having been home all night. I let my dog into the yard and then went into my den.”

“What about sexual advances?”

“What about them?”

“I’m asking if you made any. You know, ‘Gee, you look incredibly hot tonight. I like your dress, how about—”

“All right, that’s enough,” Hellman said.

“I’ll answer that, Jeffrey.”

“You don’t have to, Phil.”

“It’s okay,” Madison said, turning to Valentine. “Detective, I swear to you. I examined her abdomen, I diagnosed her condition, urged her to get subsequent care from her personal physician if her symptoms returned, and that was it. No innuendoes, no overtures, undertures, comments, inappropriate behavior...nothing.”

“Do you usually examine patients’ abdomens at your home?”

Madison clenched his teeth but remained composed. “No, I don’t. I made an exception because it was someone I knew and she was in a great deal of pain. I’ll never make that mistake again, that’s for sure.”

Valentine sighed. “So that’s it? You were the perfect gentleman, just trying to help out a friend in need? I don’t buy it.”

“You know,” Madison said, “you’re so focused on me. But what about her? Why don’t you ask her how she knew where I lived? She said she pulled it off the Consortium computer. But they only have my P.O. Box.”

“We’re focused on you because you’re the one under investigation. How she knew where you lived is irrelevant. Maybe you gave her your home address and forgot.”

“I wouldn’t do that. But I’ll tell you how she knew. She must’ve followed me home one night. She’s stalking me—”

“Leave the paranoia at home, Doc.”

“Is that all you have?” Hellman asked.

“No. We’ve got one other item to discuss,” she said, motioning for Coleman to hand her the belt from the bag on the floor.

“Ever seen this belt?” she asked, showing it to Madison. It was encased in a plastic bag and tagged with an identification sticker.

“Not that I can recall.”

“Harding was wearing it the night she was at your house.”

“So?” Hellman said.

“So it’s got your client’s fingerprints on it.”

Madison rotated his palms toward the ceiling. “I examined her abdomen, and she was in a lot of pain. I helped her unbuckle it.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Look,” Hellman said firmly, my client has answered your questions and explained everything he possibly could. Now, are you going to formally charge him?”

“Not yet.” Valentine said this staring deeply into Madison’s eyes. He stared back, a game of cat and mouse.

“Fine,” Hellman said, arising and taking Madison by the arm. “Then we thank you for a most stimulating evening, detectives.”

They walked toward Madison’s Mercedes in silence.

“What do you think?” he asked Hellman as he unlocked the door.

“I think we’re okay, but I don’t like it. Too many implications. They could make a case of it. It would be dismissed, but not before your name was plastered all over the newspapers. I’m not going to deceive you. It would wreak havoc with your practice. Your reputation.”

“Tell me about it. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

“My gut feeling is that they’re contemplating more than just sexual misconduct. They’re thinking rape.”

“Rape?!”

“Yeah, but it would be a huge reach. It’s been how long since the alleged incident? To have the most credibility, the woman has to report it and get to a doctor within twenty-four hours to be examined.”

“But they said sexual misconduct.”

“An understatement,” he said. “Cops lie during interviews. They do what it takes to get the information they’re after.”

“Then it doesn’t matter what they charge me with. Even if we get it dismissed, I know what people will think.”

“Let’s just take one day at a time. So far so good. You’re out here and they’re in there, right?”

“Yeah, right.” Madison had a difficult time feeling relief, any relief at all.

Leeza was walking down the stairs as he came through the back door.

“Hi,” Madison said, trying to appear upbeat.

“You had a call from Ed Dolius,” she said as she kissed him. “He wanted to know why the meeting was canceled.”

“Oh,” he said, removing his coat and hanging it in the closet. He had not called Leeza from the office to tell her about the change in plans and the scheduled interview with the detectives.

“Where were you all this time if the meeting was canceled? I tried you at the office.” A hint of curiosity in her voice. The rumor of the affair was no doubt in the back of her mind.

“I had an interview with Jeffrey and the detectives at the station,” he said, sifting through his pile of mail. “They wanted to ask me some more questions.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. And I figured that since I was supposed to be at the meeting, you weren’t expecting me to be home.”

“How’d the interview go?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he said, forcing a smile and borrowing a line from Hellman.

“That’s not saying much.”

“That’s because not much happened.” He pushed his mail into a stack and faced Leeza. “They asked me some more questions and I gave them some more answers. It’s all a load of crap, and they know it. Jeffrey tried to push them into just letting the whole thing go.”

“And?”

“We’ll see. Jeffrey thought they’d asked enough questions, so he ended the interview and we left.” He

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