times a week, meaning close to $3,000 per week in fees. As far as she could tell, Maurice hadn’t improved in the slightest, and in some ways he had gotten worse. His leper-blistered groin was a disaster. But the whole thing was so vile, she just wasn’t going to think about it. Why try to out-analyze Norman? Norman was perhaps as well known as any psychiatrist in the country. How could she presume to second-guess him… and even wonder if Norman didn’t find it to his advantage to have Maurice undergo such endless therapy? But that was the vile part! How could she let her imagination run wild like that? She wasn’t going to. The next thing she knew, she would start wondering who was getting the most out of this doctor-patient relationship. How had Norman managed to get a slip for his cigarette boat in the famous marina at Fisher Island?… Maurice… How had he managed to be among the very first in line for the mad rush on the opening day of Art Basel? Maurice. How had he managed to be invited to dinner at Chez Toi by one of the leading figures in the Miami art world, Sergei Korolyov?… Because Sergei had seen him in Maurice’s entourage at Art Basel… Anyone who didn’t realize that Norman was a shameless climber would have to be blind.
She thought of a way to get Norman on that subject without being too obvious. There was nothing out of place for her to ask—and so she did: “Norman,” she said, “you think Maurice will be there Friday night?”
It was as if she had pushed the switch that turned Norman back on. “Oh, yes! He’s already talked to me about it. He thinks this Korolyov might be an important new friend. And he loves Chez Toi. Yowza yowza. It has the kind of cachet Maurice thinks is very important. I’ve been there and I know how much it impresses somebody like Maurice.”
“Cashay?” said Magdalena.
“You know, it’s like… a reputation or a certain social level.”
“Cashay,” said Magdalena in a dead tone of voice.
“They have a black membership card, and if you have that, you can go to the cocktail lounge upstairs. Otherwise, you can’t go up there.”
“Do you have a membership card?”
Norman paused. “Well… actually… no. But I’ve been in the lounge.”
Magdalena said, “You’ve been there a lot?”
“Up to a point.” Norman paused again, and his expression became tentative, which was not like him. “Come to think of it… twice, I guess.”
“Who did you go with?”
Long pause… a frown… finally: “With Maurice.”
“Both times?”
Longer pause… deflated scowl: “Yes.” Norman gave her a sharp look. Somehow Magdalena had become an interrogator and had found him out, not in a lie… but in the sin of omission… omission of anything that might reveal his dependence on Maurice—his patient. He changed course and brightened again. “But I know Maurice much better than most people, maybe better than anyone else. Everybody in Miami wants to be next to Maurice, the art collectors, the art dealers—art dealers! I mean, you better believe itttahHHHHock hock hock hock!—the museum directors, the politicians, every type of businessman you can think of—very much including our new friend, Korolyov. You remember the way Korolyov came hustling over to Maurice at Art Basel? He practically kissed his shoes, like a little Russian serf. I mean, Maurice has the most influential network in South Florida.” He smiled broadly, then looked into Magdalena’s eyes with great earnestness. “That’s why we—you and me—we’ve got to do everything in our power to get Maurice out from under this terrible weakness, this addictive weakness. Weakness shouldn’t become addictive, but it does. You put it correctly, Magdalena; it’s wrecking him. We can’t let that happen. He’s not just a rich and powerful man. He’s also a decent man, who is dedicated to doing good in the whole community. We have to get our job done, Magdalena! That’s why I try to stay with him even beyond our sessions. I felt it was important for me to be with him at Art Basel, even though most psychiatrists would never do that. So many exciting things in this town are like Art Basel. At their core they’re utterly amoral. The people there are comfortable with pornography, so long as it has a ‘cultivated’ provenance.”
::::::provenance?::::::
“Maurice could have sunk into that quicksand and we’d never find him again. But we didn’t let that happen, Magdalena. We stayed there with him to the end.”