"Jerome Terrance Wister," said the nurse. "You know. That one. I'll leave you two now. Don't be naughty. Unless I'm here, that is." She closed the door behind her.

"Well, Borden," said the doctor. "This is pretty grave. Cutting up your parents that way with an axe. Pretty grave. Pardon the Freudian slip."

I was pretty interested, actually. I might learn something new about psychology so I paid close attention to what the doctor was saying.

"Ouch, (bleep) it," he said. He had cut himself again.

He threw the apple in the wastebasket and started to chew on the knife.

Heller pushed the card the nurse had left so it could be seen by the doctor.

"Aha!" said the doctor. "Two names! Now that is a very revealing symptom. Two names. Invites schizophrenia of the older type."

"Two names?" said Heller in a wary voice.

"Yes. It's right here on the card. Jerome and Terrance. Two names. Were you twins? No." He waved the knife at Heller. "There is no reason to beat around the bush, Jerome or Terrance or whatever you might call yourself in the next few minutes." He saw he was holding the knife. He looked at Heller sadly. "Why did you eat my apple?"

The doctor threshed around in a desk drawer for a bit. "Where is that folder? Very grave case."

He came up holding some paper and a pair of scissors. He began to cut the paper into the shape of a paper doll. Then, disgustedly, he said, "No, that wasn't what I was looking for. Why are you here, Borden?"

"You sent for me: Wister," said Heller.

"AH!" said the doctor. "That clears that up. I was looking for the folder! Yes." He dug into the drawer again, removed some balls of twine and with reluctance laid aside a top.

"The folder," said Heller. "Is it that one on your desk?"

"Precisely," said Doctor Kutzbrain. He found it and opened it up. He cleared his throat. He read. He said, "Now, she keeps talking about she is going to do everything to make you fail."

"Who?"

"Miss Simmons, your Nature Appreciation professor, that's who. She is in the Calming Ward just now. Now, Borden, such a reaction is, of course, the normal female reaction to a male. It is technically called the 'black widow spider gene syndrome.' You see, Borden, it is all a matter of evolution. Men evolved from reptiles. That is a scientific, indisputable fact. But women, Borden, evolved from black widow spiders and that, too, is a scientific, indisputable fact. It is proven by my own paper on it. But I see that I am talking above your head. However, those spiders you see up on the ceiling aren't mine. They were left by the last patient. Do you follow me," he consulted the card, "Jerome?"

"Quite clear," said Heller.

"Good. Now, the fact that women have this reaction to men is disturbing only because it is rational. You see," he consulted the card, "Terrance, everything a mental patient thinks or says is a delusion. When a person is in a mental ward, they are, of course, a mental patient. So anything she is saying is a delusion. Do you follow me," he consulted the card, "Empire University?"

"Very closely," said Heller.

"So obviously, if she says you are a good man, you aren't. But she is not saying you are a good man. She is saying you are an atom bomb. So, of course, you aren't. You must be some other kind of bomb. A hydrogen, perhaps? Come, tell me truthfully," he consulted the card, "Gracious Palms, you can confide in me. I am bound by the Hippocratic oath sometimes. Except in police matters, of course.

"But to get on with this interview, it says here that Miss Simmons keeps screaming you killed eight men with your bare feet and she even got loose one day and got to a call box and phoned the police."

Heller's hands tightened on the arms of the interview chair.

"They came, of course," said Doctor Kutzbrain. "Yes, it all comes back to me now even though it was several days ago. We cooperate very closely with the police.

It seems they had noticed eight bodies in a park. Now, what do you think of that?"

Heller's grip tightened on the chair arms.

"However," he consulted the card, "New York, you must remember what I told you about the black widow gene, evolutionary proven, scientific fact concerning women. It was a clear case of guilt transference. A role reversal, you know. She lured those poor, innocent men into the park and got them fighting over her so that she could enjoy both being raped and watching the mad male natural rivalry explode into mutual murder to further exploit and gratify her natural sexual appetites.

"Now, the police had another theory they had been working on which was that two rival gangs were using corpses to mark out the boundaries of mutually disputed territory. We teach the police, you know, and many wild animals mark out precise territories. But in this case, they were applying an incorrect theory.

"I pointed this out and proved it to them by showing them my own paper on the black widow gene evolution of women. They then understood that it was the natural thing for a woman to do and they marked down the findings of lure-rape-murder for sexual titillation on the case and closed it. Miss Simmons, already being in the psychopathic ward, therefore is insane and that is how the case came to be closed."

"You're going to keep Miss Simmons locked up?" said Heller.

"Oh, no! It is totally against professional ethics not to let the criminally insane loose on the public. But maybe, just this once, to oblige them down at City Hall– for we must serve them, after all, since they pay us—we will keep her inside for a while. She's given the Tactical Police Force a lot of trouble, you know. Something about bomb protests. If people want to be bombs, let them be bombs. One should never interfere with personal liberty. Do you follow," he consulted the card again. But he didn't see a name. He said, "... 'Advices'? 'Advices'? It says here you are called to an interview for advices."

He sat back and he thought. He pursed his lips and he stroked them. Then he looked at the Simmons folder and massaged his forehead. "Well," he said, at last, "the only advice I can give you is that when you find stray women lying about with broken legs, leave them alone." He thought for a moment. "Yes. Just leave them alone!"

"Is Miss Simmons going to come back on teaching staff?" said Heller.

"Why do you ask that?" said Doctor Kutzbrain.

"If she's insane, how can she teach?"

"Oh, nonsense," said the doctor. "If she's insane, it won't make any difference. All bright people have to be at least neurotic. So if she's insane, that makes her a genius, so of course she can teach!" He looked at the folder. "It says here she must be released in time to take her class in the next semester. What gave you the insane idea that insane people couldn't teach school? You'd have to be insane even to try it!"

Because the doctor had picked up the scissors and the paper again, Heller must have thought the interview was concluded for he started to get up.

Doctor Kutzbrain was instantly distracted and cut himself. He reached out a hand and urgently waved Heller to sit back down.

"I just remembered why you were sent for!" said the doctor. "My God, yes. It came to me like a flash." He pawed through the folder hurriedly. "It was important, too. It refers to us. To our own hospital staff. And they come first!"

He dredged up a huge red sheet. It had URGENT all across the top of it. "Aha! I knew we'd get down to this! The hospital staff is complaining about the litter you are making for them!"

"Me?"

"Indeed so!" said Doctor Kutzbrain triumphantly. "This is an important staff! They have to give drug injections every hour on the hour to themselves and the patients. They have to shock whole wards, morning, noon and night. They haven't got time to be cleaning the floor!"