WILLIAM PHILLIPS
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that is, ordinary people looking for extraordinary clues. We follow any
lead, all the way, however unscientific or wild, even if it seems totally
irrelevant. If you told us more about his problems, his reasons for coming
to you, we might have some leads, some connections, even if you don't
think there are any."
"You know, Freud thought that not everything was determined.
Some things come about as people struggle with their neuroses. Only in
retrospect does everything in a person's life appear to have clear causes
and origins. This is the fallacy of retroactive analysis. That's what's
wrong with many biographies of famous people, especially dead ones.
Neat patterns of behavior are invented."
Hastings walked over
to
a small bookcase and looked abstractedly at
the books.
"Weare not interested," said Robins, who began to grind his teeth,
"in Freud or psychoanalysis or all your theories. We're here to investi–
gate a criminal act, to find some clues to the reason why Gianelli was
carrying explosives in a pickup truck, where he was going, and why they
exploded, killing him. "
"I keep telling you, I don't know. We didn't discuss such things.
That's not what he was here for. Actually, our sessions were more of
what is called therapy than strict psychoanalysis. Do you know the
difference? Analysis is deeper, more far-ranging, more inclusive. In ther–
apy, we examine immediate problems and, of course, what the patient
wants to talk about. It's more superficial, but it helps people with spe–
cific problems."
Robins shook his head, and seemingly talking into the air, said
impatiently: "We're not interested in all this intellectual stuff. If you
would only tell us more of what you know about Gianelli, we could do
without all this fancy talk and get on with our business. You mean to
tell us that you never heard about his communist activities and about all
the stories of his contacts with terrorists?"
"To tell the truth, I did hear something about these things. Gianelli
said at the beginning that he was on the left and that he had engaged in
politics. But he said he did not want to talk about it. He kept insisting
that this was not what he came to me for, that he had some personal
problems, which he didn't think could be solved completely by me but
maybe he could manage to live with them better. When he first came
here for, as I say, therapy, he was in a deep, almost paralyzing depression.
But then he became manic, and I was afraid he would do something vi–
olent to get out of it, though, as I said, I didn't think he was a violent
man. He talked about direct action, but I didn't know what he meant.
He mumbled something one session about having seen a number of fa–
mous doctors, but none could help him."
