His thumb pressed harder against his chin, whitening the skin.

“I… provided… standard… care,” he said.

“Arthur Vance is holding a mediation conference on Friday morning at ten o’clock,” I said.

“You’ll be in that conference room, Dr.

Evans.”

“I… have… obligations… in… Erie… on… Friday,” he said.

“If you’re not sitting in Arthur’s office at ten o’clock,” I said, “the bank records and the forged discharge forms go to the county prosecutor before noon.”

He stood motionless, his breath coming in dry puffs.