Chapter Thirty-One
The PrincessSonyea, New York
August 25, 1926
Dr. Peterson glanced at his watch. It was 2:20 p.m. He had been speaking with Costello in his hospital room through the morning and into the afternoon. Yet, despite Costello’s candor about the events of the previous three months, it only reinforced the initial clinical impression that Costello was schizophrenic and delusional.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Costello,” Dr. Peterson said. “I lost track of time. We skipped lunch.”
“That is not important,” Costello stated.
“Perhaps not. But please remind me again: why have you summoned me here?”
“I need your help with my mission.”
“Of course, I will help you. But I still have a few details that I need you to clarify.” Peterson kept his eyes on his notes as he spoke. “You believe that yo
