�Fine.� Harry waited. The counselor got up and motioned for Harry to do the same. �Well?� Harry looked at the guy�s clipboard. �What are you waiting for?�

The counselor opened the chart, made a big show of writing �Hector� on the front page in huge letters, snapped it shut, then grinned at Harry. �Happy now?�

�Not by a long shot. I can hardly believe that any staff that forgets breakfast dishes all morning is equipped to protect me from a drug cartel.�

�Okay, let�s get this ball rolling, Mr. Denby.� The counselor groaned. This one was pretty set in his hallucination, even two days off the sauce. Cops are really hard to treat. They get, like, post-traumatic stress disorder and have these totally realistic flashbacks that are hard to crack through. This Denby was really going to be a pill.

Denby walked with the counselor to the group room, which was at the far end of the hallway. They entered the room together, but Denby stopped in his tracks. There was blood everywhere. A nurse lay twisted on the floor, her neck opened in a gaping wound. The counselor pushed into the room past Harry, took one good look at the scene before him, screamed and passed out just inside the door. Harry stepped over him, walked across the room and picked up the phone.

�How can I help you?� the nurse at the switchboard responded immediately.

�This is Harry Denby. I�m in some kind of group room on the sixth floor. There�s a nurse in here who has been murdered. Her throat has been cut.�

�Oh my God!�

�My counselor just passed out on the floor at the sight of the blood. Would you please call the police and get them in here right away? And would you ask specifically for Detective Russell? From the 15th Precinct?�

�Oh my God!�

�Did you get that? Or do you want to patch me through to the police so I can explain it myself?�

�Oh my God!�