Read Delirium (London Psychic) for Free Online

of power to coerce his clients? Was one of them responsible for his death?  
    Above the desk was a bookshelf with four more of the large journals. Jamie pulled another one down, finding the same type of information but with other initials. Monro had clearly been doing this for years, so it was conceivable that patients had come to him specifically for this kind of treatment. Complaints about his professionalism would have shut him down a long time ago otherwise.  
    "You'll want to see this, Jamie."  
    She turned to see Missinghall looking into a large walk-in closet. He moved aside to let her enter. A wall-size cabinet dominated the space, filled with all kinds of pharmaceuticals, some regulated substances, others common antidepressants and antipsychotics. None of them should have been kept on the premises in such large doses.
    "He was dealing, as well? What wasn't this guy into?" Missinghall shook his head, moving over to check one of the filing cabinets, his gloved fingers flicking through the tabbed index.  
    Jamie sighed. "We're going to have to go through his list of clients, past and present. Clearly the murder was related to madness somehow, but it could have also been about sex or drugs."  
    "I don't think it was money, though," Missinghall said, holding up a bank statement. "His balance is unhealthier than mine."
    Jamie frowned. "Which doesn't fit with the implication of selling drugs directly. So where's the money?"  
    There was a ring on the doorbell, and they heard the steps of the housekeeper and then her voice, faint from downstairs. The tread of two sets of footsteps ascended to the second floor. Jamie went back into the main room, pulling the door of the inner sanctum closed, leaving Missinghall to continue to go through paperwork. The housekeeper knocked and then pushed open the door to the practice rooms.  
    "Detective, there's a Mr Harkan here. He says it's important."
    Harkan was thin and fair, with the rosy cheeks of a choirboy who had never quite grown up. He put out a graceful hand to introduce himself to Jamie as the housekeeper headed off downstairs again.  
    "I'm sorry, Detective, but this couldn't wait. I just heard about the murder – the news is already out, I'm afraid, and Harley Street is a tight-knit community. I'm a solicitor. Our firm is just down the street, and we worked with Monro. He was a forensic psychiatrist as well as a clinical practitioner."  
    "A man of many talents," Jamie said, thinking of the room out back.  
    "Indeed," said Harkan, and Jamie noticed his eyes flick towards the door. Did the solicitor know what lay beyond?
    "What exactly did he work with you on?" she asked.
    "Forensic psychiatry is the intersection of law and the psychiatric profession, and Monro helped assess competency to stand trial. He was an expert witness around aspects of mental illness, both for the prosecution and the defense. He also assessed the risk of repeat offending."  
    "So why the hurry to talk to us?" Jamie asked. "You could have come down to the station with a statement."
    "It's the timing," Harkan said, wringing his hands. "Monro was an expert witness for the prosecution in the case of Timothy MacArnold a few years back. A violent, repeat offender who claimed mental illness drove his actions, and Monro supported that in his testimony. MacArnold is in Broadmoor, the maximum-security mental health hospital for violent offenders."  
    "And why are you so worried?"  
    "MacArnold's case is coming up for review and Monro was trying to get him transferred to some exclusive research hospital. I don't know the exact details of that, but I do know that MacArnold has a good position at Broadmoor and if he wanted to stay there … well, he's a violent man used to getting what he wants, even inside." Harkan's eyes flicked all over the room, beads of sweat forming on his brow. His speech was hurried, tripping over his words in the haste to get them out. Jamie noted his concerns on her pad, but