Play@YSDC

Holly manages to contact by phone Dr. Powell, the therapist of the late Walter Winston, in the morning. He gently agrees to a meeting in the late afternoon, after his last patient's session. Holly and Father Flanagan agree to meet directly at his office, at the set time.

It is a beautiful office right in the center of Boston. From the moment you step in, you realize that business is surely going well for Dr. Powell. You are welcomed by a pretty blonde secretary and showed into a large waiting room. There are four leather armchairs, a heavy wooden bookcase and a small table with an expensive-looking ceramic vase on it. The walls are adorned by a few paintings, reproductions of famous works by Italian artists of the Renaissance. Everything looks new and elegant.

After about twenty minutes of waiting, the secretary comes to get you: "Dr. Powell will see you now. Please follow me". She leads the way along a small corridor. The light of the sunset accompanies you, shining from four large windows placed on the outer wall of the corridor, showing a beautiful sight of the city colored in red and orange. You are ushered into another room, furnished with the typical elements of a psychologist's study: a small bed, bookshelves, a desk and some chairs. More Renaissance painting.



Doctor Powell meets you with a firm handshake. "Dr. Chastain, I assume. And you must be Father Flanagan. Pleased to meet you. Make yourself at home. Do you want some tea? Coffee?".

"You assume correctly, Dr. Powell," says Holly, returning his handshake with one equally firm. She sits down on a leather armchair. "I'm pleased to meet you too. Coffee, please, cream, one sugar."

"Tea, white, no sugar, if you please," says Flanagan, settling into an armchair. "To the matter at hand, doctor, we have come to you today hoping to ask you a few questions about an old friend with whom I believe you are acquainted. Walter Winston."

"Elizabeth, please, two teas and one coffee". The secretary nods and closes the door behind her. "Straight to the point, then. Very well. Yes, I know Mr. Winston. Or I should say, I knew him. His daughter contacted me a few weeks ago, then I learned he had just died. Poor man. So rich, and never had the chance to enjoy his wealth". He shakes his head. "I was his doctor from 1927 to 1930... or 1931... let me check". He leaves the room through another door and returns a few minutes later, bringing what seems to be a patient file. "Yes, here. First session in September 1927, last session in November 1930. I remember that one. He said, and I quote, that I was just as dumb as the others, that I was stealing his money and psychotherapy was a load of... well..." he looks at Holly, "I'll skip this last part. I never saw him again after that. A pity. He was my most interesting case". He caresses his beard with his left hand.

"I've heard that sort of thing about our profession before," says Holly with a smile. "There are always people with that attitude when any science is young, though this seems to go beyond healthy skepticism into irrationality. So, what about the case made it so interesting?"

Dr. Powell's expression is a little self-deprecating when he says: "I don't want to sound cynical when I say 'interesting'. You see, most of my patients are rich people having a midlife crisis, or maybe some mild anxiety issues. There is some importance to the work I do here, obviously, but I sometimes feel that I chose the easy way and deprived myself of the possibility to help those that are really needy". He gestures at the beatiful office, implying that this is not a place where you could find people really in need of psychiatric help. "Mr. Winston was different. Not that he was crazy, or a lunatic, mind you. Not that. But he had some real issues, something that really required the work of a specialist." He pauses for a second. "You understand that I cannot disclose Mr. Winston's files, even to a colleague... and a priest..."

You're interrupted by the secretary entering the room. She leaves a tray on the desk, with the tea and coffee you requested, then leaves the room.

"Thank you, Elizabeth." Dr. Powell brings his cup to the mouth and sips some tea. "As I was saying, I cannot disclose the file, but since I understand that this is an important matter, annd counting on your professional reserve, I'll discuss some elements". He pauses for a second. "He was very clever, you see. Mr. Winston. Clever people make bad patients. They always think they know better than their doctors. Not only that, he was also prideful. This alone brings us to a conclusion: to come see my help, he should have been really desperate. He must have come to the conclusion that he could not handle his problems alone, and for someone with such intelligence and pride, well, those troubles must have been huge indeed. But he never fully opened up with me. More than once, I had the distinct impression that he was telling me what I wanted to hear, rather than what he truly wanted to say". He shakes his head. "Perhaps it was my failure as a doctor. I don't know... Anyway, these are my observations on him. He was suffering from guilt. Some terrible crime he committed, or that he thought he had committed. I never could understand what that was, except that it involved the death of some people. My personal theory is that it was linked to some incident happened during the Great War. Frankly speaking, Mr. Winston did not seem to be a murderer, and I'm not aware of any scandal involving his pharmaceutical business. Anyway, this guilt caused depression, anxiety, insomnia and then finally paranoia. He was not fearing for his life, but he felt... how can I put it... that the consequences of his actions might one day come hurting other people. Perhaps his family. He loved his daughter very much, although I fear that he never managed to show it properly". He pauses for a few more seconds. "That's it, I think. As far as I could tell, he was still in control of his mental faculties. Haunted, troubled, distressed. Severely distressed. But his strong personality was keeping him grounded, although with some difficulty. I hope this can help you. If you have any particular question, I'll do my best to answer them, but keep in mind that there are informations I cannot possibly disclose".

"I don't think it was your fault you couldn't help him as much as you wanted," says Holly, pausing to take a sip from her teacup. "Some patients hold back even though doing so prevents us from helping. Some patients don't want to be helped, if only subconsciously. Maybe his guilt led him to feel he deserved to suffer. We spoke to Mr. Winston's daughter Janet, and she showed us letters her father had exchanged with a Douglas Henslowe. From them, we gathered that some traumatic event that took place in August 1924 is the source of his problems, an event in which several people died, for which he blamed himself. This must be the terrible crime to which you referred. Do you know Mr. Winston's whereabouts during August 1924? Has he ever discussed Mr. Henslowe with you? I understand you cannot disclose the late Mr. Winston's files to us, but would you consider sharing them with his daughter?"

"August 1924, uh? Yes, I remember him talking about summer, but he never specified the year. So, it's not something related to the war. I wish I could have known back when he was my patient". Dr. Powell pauses to caress his beard again. "But no, I don't know where he was in 1924. And this is the first time I hear the name Douglas Henslowe. I'm afraid I can't help you more than this... not even with the patient files. I don't think Mr. Winston would have wanted to share them with someone else. Especially his daughter. If I could give her an advice, would be to leave the past behind... exactly what his father could not do". He stands to signal that the meeting is concluded.

"Thank you for your time and your candor, Dr. Powell," says Holly as she rises. She shakes his hand again, then leaves with Father Flanagan when he is ready.

"Thank you for the tea," Father Flanagan says as he shakes the doctor's hand, then leaves with Holly.