Easy Innocence

Chapter 11

THE SOCIAL worker rooted around in a pile of olive green folders, extracted one, and scanned the first page. "Oh, here we go."

Georgia sat across from Carol Moore, a young woman with ash blond hair and enormous glasses. She was wearing jeans and a ribbed sweater, and she looked like she'd just graduated from high school. She and Georgia sat on either side of a metal desk in the North Shore Mental Health Clinic. The clinic operated out of an Evanston building near Oakton and Ridge that had once been a parochial school. A quick glance around revealed the same peeling paint, green walls, and chipped tiles Georgia remembered from St. Michael's. A grimy, institutional odor seeped out of the walls. Georgia remembered that too.

"Cam Jordan has been my client for over a year," Moore said.

"That doesn't sound like a long time." Georgia breathed through her mouth.

"Let's see. I took over from..." Moore paged through the file. "... Margie Hanson. She got married and had a baby. And before that, Shauna Alexander was his caseworker."

Georgia fidgeted. Passed from hand to hand, Cam was just another file to these people. A case number to justify their budget.

"You have met with him?"

"Of course." Moore looked offended. "And now that he's in the news, we've gotten more calls. We can't comment, of course."

"As I told you, I'm a private investigator working on his case. Anything you can tell me about his mental state would be helpful."

Moore nodded. "I talked to the director before you came, and—" She looked up. "Hey, am I going to be called to testify?"

"I don't know if there will be a trial."

"But is it a possibility."

"Yes."

"I just wondered, you know." Moore flipped up a lock of hair. Then she went back to the file. "The last time he came in was almost five months ago. In June."

"How often did you see him?"

"Every six months. Unless there was a crisis."

"Only twice a year?"

"Do you know how many clients I have, Ms. Davis? Some are victims of abuse. Child abuse. Sexual abuse. One of my clients was put in a cage by her father for two years. Another has been in thirty foster homes. Between home visits, clinical practice, and writing reports, it's a miracle I see him that much."

Not something we'd want brought out in a trial, Georgia thought. She could just imagine Ramsey: "With forty-two clients and only two visits a year, in reality, you have no idea whether he was violent or not, do you, Ms. Moore?"

Aloud she said, "What can you tell me about those visits?"

"His sister brings him in. I talk mostly to her. It looks like she takes good care of him. He's always been calm. Not agitated. At least the times I've seen him."

"Is he on any medications?"

She frowned, pulled her glasses down her nose, and sifted through the file. "There's a note from Margie that he was on Seroquel for a year. And Remeron. But it doesn't say if they helped. I don't know if he's still on the meds."

"What do those drugs do?"

"One's an antidepressant. The other is specifically for bipolar disorder and schizophrenia." She looked at Georgia. "Psychopharmacological agents can improve quality of life for the mentally ill. But the best catalyst for change is still a positive and trusting relationship with a therapist."

"But you weren't that therapist."

"I told you. We only see patients during physical or mental health crises. And check-ups. There's nothing here about any other therapist." She closed the file. "I'm guessing there wasn't enough money for it."

Georgia motioned toward the file. "May I look through that? Make some copies?"

"The director said you need to put any request in writing. Then it has to go before our internal committee for approval. And then to the state."

"Well then, may I look through it so I know which reports to request?"

"I'm sorry." Moore leaned back with an expression that said she was really doing Georgia a favor. "But I can tell you what they say."

Georgia bit back a reply. It infuriated her when people doled out information a bit at a time. They were usually sadists. Assholes who liked to watch people beg. They'd have to subpoena the records if they needed them. "Go ahead," she said tersely.

Moore took her time reopening the file and looking through it. "It doesn't appear that there was any instance of real communication—at least while he was here. When he did talk it was mostly the repetition of certain words, or phrases from nursery rhymes."

"Are there any notes about his sexual offense?"

"Let's see..." She pushed her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose. "Everyone agrees he masturbated in public. But apparently, there was some question about physical contact. His sister contends he never touched the woman in the Forest Preserve. The couple said otherwise, of course." She read on. "Apparently, he had a history of being abused. His father beat him."

"Yes, I know."

She tipped her head. "That could be a contributing factor."

"What do you mean?"

She looked up. "You know. If an individual was abused themselves, they're more likely to—Oh." She stopped. A frown creased her forehead.

"What?" Georgia said.

"Well, it says here the couple dropped the case a few months later."

"Dropped it? How come?"

"Apparently, they separated and got a divorce." She snorted. "Guess they found other lawyers to give their money to."

If the couple dropped the case, without a conviction, how had Cam been labeled a sex offender? Georgia made a note to follow up. "Is there anything in his file about him being violent, threatening violence, or doing harm to anyone?"

Moore looked through the file one more time. She shook her head.

"Do you think it's possible that someone like him, given his record, could suddenly snap and murder a complete stranger?"

Moore gazed at her. "Anything is possible with mentally impaired individuals. But, based on his file and my experience with him, I would be surprised."

Georgia felt an unexpected sense of relief. "We'll probably have to subpoena the entire file."

Moore waved a noncommittal hand. "Whatever."

Before heading home, Georgia stopped to buy copies of the newspapers. Word about the hazing was splashed above the fold in the Trib and on the front page of the Sun Times. While experts rued the growing violence among teenagers, Chief of Police Eric Olson denied it would affect the outcome of the case. There was no comment from the State's Attorney's Office.