Doctor Jefferson was just finishing up his second appointment of the day when the light above his door flashed to let him know that the next appointment had arrived and was waiting in reception. After ushering his previous client out, Jefferson did quick tidy, took a short water break, and then swapped notebooks to prepare for the following appointment. When he was ready Jefferson buzzed the next client in, unlocking the door with a tap of a button on his desk. As the next man walked through the door, Jefferson took note of him as he strolled in. The new client hung his coat on one off the hooks behind the door, slowly walked closer. He was wearing a very expensive suit that was clearly custom made, as his appearance screamed money right from the very beginning. Jefferson tired to avoid judging people by their income, but this new visitor, who was showing up for his first session, made it difficult not to notice. The doctor still has a smile on his face as the new client walked up and his hand.

“Good afternoon,” The man said, with a pleasant smile. “My name is Francis Alderton the third, but you can call me Frank.”

“A pleasure to meet you Frank,” Jefferson said, nothing the strong grip the man had for his age as they shook hands. “I’m Doctor Asher Jefferson, but I prefer to be called doctor or Doctor Jefferson.”

“Understood, my dear doctor.” Frank said, as he released Jefferson’s hand and proceeded to take his seat. Jefferson had left his new notepad on his chair to make it obvious to Frank which chair he was supposed inhabit.

“Thanks for squeezing me in,” the man said as he sat down on the correct chair, “It is unfortunate that we must meet under such undesirable circumstances.”

“I was happy to help,” Jefferson said, also sitting down, “The passing of your previous therapist was quite sudden, and we don’t like to leave patients in limbo for very long as it can lead to complications and unwanted regressions if they’re not reassigned promptly.”

“Were you close to Dr. Stevens?” Frank inquired.

“We were colleagues,” Jefferson admitted, “David Stevens and I spoke often and even reached out to one another for help whenever it was needed. I was also surprised by his sudden passing. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss as well,” Frank corrected, “You know him personally as well as professionally. I was just a patient.”

“You’re more than just a patient, Frank.” Jefferson countered, “You meant a lot to your therapist, and I can assure you he’d want your therapy to continue so his efforts he made in life were not in vain.”

“Makes you think though, doesn’t it?” Frank said, “I can assure you I’ve been eating more greens since it happened.”

“I’m not afraid to admit it,” Jefferson said, as he even giggled a bit, “I haven’t been arguing as much with my mother lately when she puts more broccoli on my plate. I’m starting to think she’s onto something.”

“Enough of the chit chat,” Frank suddenly declared, “How much do you know about me and the therapy I had with my previous therapist?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know anything,” Jefferson replied, “Doctor Stevens never recorded any notes, and even if he did they were not filed. It was if they never existed or he destroyed them after you left.”

“They never existed,” Frank confirmed, “I paid extra to that what was said between us remained that way. If was in his best interests to not have anything written down for the sake of his own reputation as well.”

“I see,” Jefferson said, as he closed the new notebook and placed it on the small table beside him. “Is this why you were also specifically assigned to me as well. I was told that Doctor Stevens insisted that I be the one that resume your therapy if you wanted to speak to someone.”

“It was.” Frank answered, “We discussed this last year actually, what would happen to me if he were to not be able to carry on for any reason. He insisted that you would be the best man to help me should I need to reach out to someone new. So, here I am.”

“Yes,” Jefferson agreed, “Here you are. Are you going to tell me why Stevens never took any notes? Was the topic that sensitive that you feared blackmail?”

“I’m not sure,” Frank honestly answered, “We need to discuss something, a hypothetical if you will, and that will determine if I can trust you with my secrets. If I can trust you with the sensitive demons of my therapy.”

“You have demons,” Jefferson said, taking what ever Intel he could gather from their conversation. “What kind of demons?”

“Not yet,” Frank said, nipping that in the bud. “We need to go over our hypothetical first.”

“What happens if you don’t like my answer?” Jefferson inquired.

“If you say something I don’t like,” Frank started, “Or vice versa, then I will simply compensate you for time and you’ll never see me again.”

“Alright,” Jefferson said, as he was slightly intrigued. “Let’s have it.”

“What makes someone a murderer?” Frank asked.

“That’s an interesting question,” Jefferson started, “And quite a loaded one as well.”

“That’s the point,” Frank retorted, “What I want to know is what criteria would it take for someone to earn that title. What do they have to do to become a murderer?”

“Well, there’s the obvious criteria,” Jefferson replied, “If you commit the act itself, you are then a murderer.”

“What if the person is acquitted?” Frank asked, “What if they plead not guilty and claim it was an act of self defense. Is the person still a murderer?”

“Yes, they are.” Jefferson answered.

“That’s interesting,” Frank observed, “Why is that?”

“They still committed the act,” Jefferson explained, “The reason doesn’t matter, the person still took another person’s life. The act was committed and the person who committed the act has to life with it and struggle with it for the remainder of their life regardless if it’s in prison or not.”

“That’s quite interesting, but now here’s another twist.” Frank said as he shifted in his seat. “What if no one was killed? What if the person was thinking about killing someone, even fantasizing about doing it, but hasn’t actually done it yet?”

“That could still be a crime,” Jefferson replied, “If they discussed the idea with another person, or tried to hire someone to take someone out, the law considers that a conspiracy to commit murder. That charge is just as bad as being charged with murder itself.”

“Quite true,” Frank agreed, “But what if there was no conspiracy? What if this person thought about doing it everyday, but never told anyone and kept it to him or herself? Would they still be a murderer?”

“I’m not sure,” Jefferson admitted, “If a person has never had sex before but thinks about it all the time, we still consider them a virgin until they do the actual act itself. Shouldn’t we apply that same standard?”

“So you think as long as the person doesn’t pop their homicidal cherry, then he or she is not a murderer?” Frank asked.

“Yes, I suppose that’s could be my view on it.” Jefferson conceded, “But if the person is thinking about it ever day, that cannot be good for them or the person they’re thinking about taking out.”

“Because you’re afraid that one day the person will relent and try to act out their fantasy?” Frank asked.

“He would be like a ticking bomb,” Jefferson explained, “And all it would take was one really bad day to set this person off, and then all cards are off the table and anything is possible.”

“That’s my fear as well,” Frank said, “It was also Doctor Stevens’ fear and the reason for my secretive therapy.”

“If you fantasized about murdering someone,” Jefferson said, as his tone rose just a little, “It was Doctor Stevens’ ethical responsibility to report it to the police immediately to protect the person you wanted to kill.”

“I don’t fantasize about killing anyone,” Frank said, almost chuckling. “I wish that’s what my fantasies are about, but what I think about is far worse.”

“What is worse than murder?” Jefferson asked.

“We’re not there yet,” Frank replied, as he stood up and was ready to walk out. “I’m not sure you can handle this.”

“Then let’s keep trying,” Jefferson said, as he was concerned about this patient and what secrets both he and his therapist were hiding from everyone. “Give me another hypothetical.”

“Alright, let’s try this again.” Frank said, sitting back down. “If a person wants to rob a bank, but never does it. Is that person a bank robber?”

“I suppose not,” Jefferson said, thinking about it. “If you don’t conspire with anyone and only think about it yourself and never actually commit any robberies, it would be hard to call you anything. Thoughts are not the crime, actions are the only thing you can be charged for. In order to become a criminal, you actually have to commit a crime.”

“And thus far, I have not.” Frank assured him. “No one has been harmed, and they will not because my therapy I was provided helped prevent me from harming anyone. To help to avoid this ticking bomb from going off.”

“Doctor Stevens was your fail safe, wasn’t he?” Jefferson asked, “Like an alcoholic’s sponsor. Someone you could call on in case all else failed. The voice of reason that was the last line of defense as he might call it.”

“He was,” Frank confirmed, “And I’m hoping you’ll help me keep ticking and never ignite. I want to keep people safe and unharmed. Can you help me do that, Doctor Jefferson?”

“That depends,” Jefferson said, “You never answered my question. What is worse than murder?”

“There’s only one thing that is worse than murder,” Frank replied, as he took a deep breath before continuing. “Doctor Stevens called it the only other crime besides murder that warranted the death penalty. He also called it the most inhumane act that a human being could commit.”

The moment he made that statement, Jefferson jumped to his feet. Doctor Stevens had said that statement to Jefferson before, years ago when they were talking about a specific issue. The doctor in the room remembered every word about that conversation with Stevens, and what the two men were talking about when Stevens made that exact same statement to him.

“Are you serious right now?” Jefferson said, afraid to go near the man.

“I’m afraid so,” Frank replied.

“So what you’re trying to say,” Jefferson continued, “Is that you’re a…”

“Yes,” Frank confirmed, “I am.”

“Get out,” Jefferson said, as he was quite repulsed. “I want you to get out of my office and never come back!”

“I can’t leave,” Frank said, as he understood the man’s sudden outburst of anger. “I need your help.”

“There’s no help for degenerate, pieces of filth like you!” Jefferson roared, afraid that his fury might get the best of him. “Just leave my place of work immediately!”

“Stop!” Frank pleaded, “Do you remember the questions I asked?”

“What about them?” Jefferson said, as he was looking around the room for something that he could use as a weapon in case he needed it.

“In order to be a criminal, you have to commit a crime!” Frank repeated, “You said that not more than five minutes ago!”

“Yes, I did!” Jefferson confessed, “What’s your damn point?”

“I haven’t committed the act… not once!” Frank informed him. “I’ve thought about it, dreamed about it, but have never done it! If I never committed the actual crime, am I really that despicable piece of filth that you think I am?”

All those hypothetical questions were starting to make sense to the doctor as he started to piece things together. Despite all the time he spent thinking about it, Frank never committed the actual crime and had been for the entirety of his life thus far a law bidding citizen. He had thought about it all the time, even fantasized about it, but to this point had never harmed a single person. The time bomb was still ticking but it had never gone off… not yet that is. Frank was still a virgin, and he wanted Jefferson’s help to remain that way.

“This thing you’re talking about,” Jefferson said, as the skin on his arms began to crawl just thinking about it. “It is one of the most forbidden things any person could do, and the world would be revolted by it.”

“I know that,” Frank admitted, “I fight these feelings and urges everyday. To this point I have fended them off, and Doctor Stevens has been there to make sure that I never slipped or gave into those urges.”

“And you want me to help you as well?” Jefferson asked, “How?”

“Think of it like alcoholism,” Frank said, as he took a step closer, “Doctor Stevens was my sponsor, my guide to staying sober. I need a new sponsor.”

Jefferson was revolted that Stevens would ever help someone like this but the alternative as just as unethical, even more if he allowed someone else to be harmed by his inaction. That would make him no less guilty than Frank who was practically begging for the man’s help.

“I would have conditions,” Jefferson said, as he couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth.

“Write them down,” Frank said, as he sat back down. “I’m open to almost anything as long as it doesn’t interfere with my business life.”

“Alright,” Jefferson said as he sat down and finally picked up his pad and pen back up. “If I think just one person is in danger, I will not hesitate to rat you out to the police.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Frank said, “I would in fact encourage you do so if you felt it was necessary.”

“You are a sick piece of shit, Frank.” Jefferson spat out.

“I know,” Frank said, as he had clearly heard worse. “Will you still help me fight this?”

“Yes, I will. ” Jefferson said, as he kept writing, “If you agree to these terms that I’ve set for you.”

Frank took the piece of paper, and scanned over its contents with great interesting and nodded his head over and over again as he read down the page.

“I think these acceptable,” Frank said, “And there are a few others we can add later that Doctor Stevens had set that I’d like to be in place because I found them helpful during our sessions.”

“What were they?” Jefferson asked.

“Look for yourself,” Frank said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellular telephone. He tossed it to Jefferson who caught it and looked down at it in surprised.

“What is this?” Jefferson asked.

“It’s Doctor Stevens’ cell phone,” Frank replied, “Well not his actual cell phone, it’s a private phone that he used only to speak to me in private. I was the only one who had access to this phone and would call him whenever I needed his assistance. I would only interrupt him outside appointments if it was dire, and that rarely ever happened.”

“And why are you giving this to me?” Jefferson demanded.

“Because that’s where Stevens kept all his notes.” Frank answered, “The password is Six, Four, Two, Four, Nine. Only he and I knew how to unlock that phone. Read them over, and we’ll talk again next week.”

“I thought he didn’t take any notes?” Jefferson recalled.

“He did, just not the regular way.” Frank answered, “I couldn’t chance have such sensitive notes lying around.”

“How did you get this back from him?” Jefferson asked.

“I have a contact in the police who both Stevens and I had on the payroll.” Frank said, “In the event that either of us had suddenly died, our man within the force would make sure our cellular device was taken and given to the other man still standing.”

“You’re entrusting me with something very sensitive,” Jefferson said, as he looked at the notes and read some of them. “I will do my best to assist you.”

“Take your time to read everything,” Frank repeated, “And we’ll continue next week and answer any queries you might have.”

“Alright,” Jefferson said, standing up. “We’ll speak again next week.”

Jefferson watched as Frank grabbed his coat, and strolled out the exit and out of the room. The doctor looked at the new phone given to him and unlocked it and open just some of the files that was in there. Moments after taking a moment to breathe, Jefferson hit a button on his phone that contacted the front desk, and his secretary Janet.

“Can I help you, Doctor Jefferson?” the soft voice replied.

“How many appointments do we have left today?” Jefferson asked.

“Three,” Janet replied, “One before lunch, and two this afternoon.”

“Cancel them,” Jefferson ordered, “Something has come up that I need to offer my full attention to. Give them my sincerest apologies and rebook for another day, and then take the rest of the day off with pay.”

“Yes, Doctor Jefferson.” Janet said, and the line went dead.

Jefferson stood there holding the cell phone in his hand, looking at it and the notes of the man who entrusted him with what was one of his most despicable and dangerous clients. Jefferson would go on to spend the rest of the day reading the notes and find out what he was getting himself into by taking Frank on as a client for what might be the foreseeable future.

“Oh David,” Jefferson said, referencing the last man who treated the sick piece of crap that had just left his office. “What have you gotten me into?”