UNKNOWABLE (Murder on the Mekong, Book 2)

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UNKNOWABLE (Murder on the Mekong, Book 2) Page 15

by Rivers, Hart;


  As you know, sir, Dr. Lebowitz “retired” immediately following this interview and is now living in Sedona, Arizona, where he has begun a small practice while “researching” various kinds of psychedelics. Apparently he now corresponds with J. D. Mikel as well as the renowned hypnotist Milton Erickson, MD, who Mikel recommended to him as an old friend and associate.

  INTERVIEW #2. Audio (Translated by Stenographer for this review and file purposes)

  THIS IS DR. ROBERT STEGNER. Following the regrettable breakdown of Dr. Lebowitz I was brought in to complete the interview with the candidate. As it seemed clear from the video which I reviewed the candidate is not only likely delusional and psychotic but also seems somehow capable of inducing or causing some kind of trance state.

  I am going to complete the “Stress Interview” but already am recommending that the candidate be “retained” and “removed” to our “special operations study center” where I can thoroughly examine and evaluate him and he can be disposed of easily. Please have the candidate brought in.

  Review and Analysis of Interview #2 by Allen Cox, M.D.

  The video of this session shows that Stegner shook hands with the candidate J. D. Mikel but then had the candidate sit in a chair facing away from him. He asked if the candidate would be willing to please have his hands in his lap and not to move them.

  The candidate seemed very calm and cooperative and sat facing away from Dr. Stegner with his hands in his lap. Dr. Stegner said he was going to ask the candidate to allow two guards to come in and that they would place the candidate’s hands in cuffs just for the period of the interview and the candidate agreed. He was cuffed and the guards left the room.

  Dr. Stegner’s tone of voice then became aggressive and threatening and he told the candidate that he was to cooperate fully and he would go easy on him. That he wanted no “funny business” with the trance stuff and that he would be the one in control from now on. Mikel said that he understood.

  He then told Stegner that primates of all types constantly put their hands to their face. Had he ever noticed that?

  Stegner said to be quiet and that he would be asking all the questions.

  To their face and mouth, said Mikel.

  The audio/video shows that JD began a rhythmic tapping of his feet and swaying and began a very deep kind of chanting and whistling, part of which is not immediately audible to human hearing but was revealed by subsequent testing of the tape by an audiology expert. The video we reviewed also shows that Stegner did, in fact, during this time begin to repeatedly put his hands to his face and mouth. We think there may have been a psychoactive substance on the right hand of Mikel when he shook Stegner’s hand. Stegner became increasingly agitated and told Mikel to stop with the noises or he would have the guards…Bring me ice cream, said Mikel. Yes, said Stegner, bring you ice cream. NO, no, Stegner suddenly shouts.

  The whistling now becomes more shrill, and the rhythmic movements continue, and it is observed that somehow Mikel has freed himself from the cuffs and has turned around to face Dr. Stegner and moved his chair closer. Tell me, Doctor, Mikel then says, can you see the tiger over there? Can you hear her? At this point the audio clearly sounds like the panting of a large tiger, and there is a deep, guttural growling. It is quite disturbing to hear this on the audio.

  You do not want me to let her loose do you, Doctor? NO, please NO, responds Dr. Stegner, appearing very agitated. Then what are your plans for me, Doctor, tell me. Stegner replies, I was going to take you to the facility, have you tortured until you revealed to us precisely what you had done to Lebowitz and then have you killed. I see, Mikel responds. Now tell me about your facility and its purpose and location, Doctor.

  Stegner tells him everything in detail. That’s too bad, Mikel responds. He proceeds to say, Regrettably you will have both waking dreams and night terrors of tigers for the rest of your life. Also you will continue to compulsively touch your face as you are now. Are you afraid, Doctor? Yes, says Stegner, I am very afraid.

  At this point Dr. Stegner begins to shriek. He hasn’t really stopped since.

  Summary and Recommendations:

  I reviewed both tapes and their interview notes and discussed the interviews with three trusted associates and the above is the best we could put together. We concurred that Leavenworth or, better yet, our secure SE Asian facility that Stegner recommended is really the only option. Unfortunately, at this point the Ambassador intervened. I subsequently completed the exit interview with J. D. Mikel.

  I was very apprehensive and was accompanied by three guards. I sat nowhere near the man and refused to shake his hand.

  I reluctantly apologized for the kind of interviews he had been subjected to and asked if he could help us with whatever he had done with Stegner. He refused. He said, “NO. I think he is a bad man, a man with no honor who enjoys inflicting pain at that place he has set up. My terms are as follows. I will work only with the Ambassador. I will review any jobs or assignments you have for me and approve or disapprove doing them. You will pay my fees directly to a Swiss account. Interview is now terminated.”

  He got up and walked out and disappeared. I had him followed by 5 agents. He lost them in 10 minutes. As you know, Stegner is in a locked facility and completely insane.

  Diagnosis: Antisocial Personality Disorder severe, tentative. I have reservations about even this diagnosis as this person appears to have some very specific delusions and also hallucinations, though there is no real evidence of a thought disorder. He seems to have a near savant level of mental functioning. He appears to operate out of his own rather unique, socio-cultural perspective and world view, quite different from a Western perspective, and would not be amenable to the usual “controls.” As a consequence, he would very likely always act in his own unpredictable interests without regard for those around him.

  This is a very dangerous individual. I cannot recommend him, even though I understand he is now considered an invaluable asset of The Company and a highly regarded operative.

  Allen B. Cox, MD, PhD

  Director

  Kate carefully reread the report and then returned it to where it belonged with the others. There were enough pages on J. D. Mikel to qualify for a book. An extremely disturbing yet fascinating book that revealed a charming monster who operated without conscience, and would not hesitate to lie or discard anyone, including her. This was, after all, the man who had been reported to quietly accept that his fiancée had been tortured to death by communist operatives in search of him, only to turn around and engage in a relationship that ended with the reported death of yet another woman that did not result in any show of emotion.

  That same man had deserted her on the Mekong River to see to business, while a nightmare unfolded. She’d had no means to protect herself, any more than the two deceased women before her.

  Kate almost wanted to laugh, it was all so beyond belief; and yet the various aging of papers in JD’s extensive file confirmed it had all been painstakingly accumulated over time and wasn’t some outlandish fiction cranked out overnight for her benefit.

  A drop of blood beaded on the manila folder she held. She quickly pressed her mouth over the small sore she must have been picking at while reading what Phillip clearly wanted her to see. Even so, she grabbed the nearby box of tissues and dabbed up the blood on the folder, then spit on another one to scrub at the stain until only a faint, pink smear remained.

  That was what her heart felt like. Stained, smeared, and tossed aside. Nearly everything JD had told her was clearly either half true or a lie. She wanted to hate him. She would hate him. Just not soon enough, because for now all she could do was return the briefcase and its contents to their original spot beside the bed, curl into a tight, protective ball, and cover her head with a pillow.

  Phillip had made her cry many times before. This time she wept.

  Chapter 17

  A visit with The Pale Man was always a Dali-esque experience that seemed partly nightmare. Phillip
was accustomed to the eccentricities of nearly unlimited wealth. His own family had produced some true oddities, but The Pale Man was another order of magnitude. He was the poisoned, reincarnated soul of Caligula. His was the marriage of the sublime with the macabre. Only Poe or Bram Stoker could describe what it was like to be a houseguest of The Pale Man—though Fowles had proven to be in their brilliantly dark league with The Magus.

  Since Johnny had written a particularly meaningful inscription, Phillip regarded his first-edition copy as a dear possession. Which was why he had dropped it off in his private quarters rather than risk a request from Paulu to borrow it to read himself.

  Phillip silently studied him across the table, set for lunch with china that had “once graced an Austrian palace,” as Paulu had so gauchely informed him, before launching into the latest apology for doing something Phillip was both furious about and oddly grateful for.

  “…and again, Phillip, I apologize, truly apologize, because had I only realized the extent of your relationship with her and your feelings towards her—you see, when you talked about her, well…” His face colored as much as it ever did. “I am, as you know, lamentably lame, blind and deaf in these matters of the heart, so again allow me to say I am sorry, and if there is any way I can ever make amends to you both…”

  Phillip rather enjoyed watching him grovel, which was why he conceded no more than a stony silence. It was actually better having The Pale Man taking the blame for all the drugging, even if that wasn’t completely fair. But, then again, all was fair in love and war. Paulu’s unauthorized kidnapping and subsequent manipulations had moved all his own plans for Kate ahead, and in the best of ways. If he overlooked her suffering, which was not easy. And yet…

  As outraged as he had been when he first saw her, it didn’t take long to realize that he needed to put aside his personal emotions and pragmatically assess what amounted to harsh basic training and testing to see if Kate really had the goods for this work.

  He was beginning to think she did. The particular doctor on call from The Company was impressed with her response as well. After all, this had not been a simulated test. She actually had been abducted, terrorized, tortured and drugged. And that was before he got here. If there was one upside to his own, far more limited contribution to everything Kate had endured, it was the degree to which her recent memories had been submerged, if not erased.

  Finally tired of hearing all the sniveling pleas from across the table, Phillip waved a dismissive hand. “Very well. I suppose what is done is done.”

  “Yes, yes,” agreed The Pale Man. “Always trite but true. Just as all’s well that ends well. And we are on our way to ending very well with the model program, are we not?”

  Paulu had quickly turned the subject to something more desirable to them both. Phillip had to give him that. The model program was sheer genius, set up to continuously generate finances to run a powerful, shadow political arm they could leverage in Southeast Asia, Europe, and eventually “franchise” into Central and South America. Militarily and politically the shadow operations were geared to be efficient and self-sustaining, while allowing them to operate the overseeing agency from the US without any interference and, most importantly, without any oversight whatsoever from the government.

  All those involved had their motives. Phillip had his.

  “I propose a celebration once we’re ready to cut the ribbon,” he offered. “What do you think?”

  The Pale Man visibly relaxed. “A marvelous idea, dear Phillip. Simply marvelous. Where would you suggest? Someplace, of course, that your father would approve, were he here.”

  “Hong Kong may be a worthy consideration.” Phillip decided to throw him a crumb. “Did I ever tell you about my father taking me with him to the Peninsula Hotel, the first time I was ever there?”

  “No! Please, do tell.”

  “It was quite the occasion, I must say. Father was there for the surrender of the Japanese at the end of the war. You know, I still think of World War Two as The War—”

  “Yes, I, of course, as well.”

  Of course Paulu would agree. How…grating. “Well, back then, Father was with the OSS, when it was all so new and brilliant and exotic, before the CIA was even a thought, and I was following in his shoes—”

  “Such big shoes to fill, but you have done so, and admirably well.”

  It was really enough to make Phillip want to gag on the sorbet presented on the Austrian palace china that had no doubt been ungainly gotten. His own family, with their very legitimate armament contracts, burgeoning from war after war after war, would never stoop to such a thing. For generations they had all moved easily among the world’s social, political, and financial elite, were courted through gilded doors of palaces, villas, banks and consulates, where Paulu and his family may, on occasion, be allowed to enter—but were never, no never, welcomed.

  What would his father think of their joining forces now? He wouldn’t like it, of that Phillip was certain. But, then again, he would understand, having been a practical man who excelled at The Game. He had raised his son to appreciate that the grandest game of all involved real players, real pawns, real territories and strategies for winning that made pretend games of pleasurable pursuit an innocent but instructive playground for gamesmanship in real life.

  “How kind of you to say, Paulu. But it’s not so difficult to appear capable or even admirable in these newer days, with everything so drab in comparison to The War.” And that was God’s truth. “This ‘cold war’ with the Soviets is the epitome of it all, with the vassal-state skirmishes that look to be the way of the future. Knocking over pawns in Asia, Central America, Africa, and South America, and on and on. The massive global powers grinding against each other like tectonic plates. Just look at where we are now with this so called ‘Southeast Asia Conflict.’ My God, they don’t even want to dignify this mess by calling it a war. What an embarrassment to the US after the ridiculous amount of fiscal investment, not to mention the lives they’ve squandered, only to bow out by”—air quote—“deescalating.”

  Phillip pointedly reached for his napkin.

  “Agreed, agreed.” Spindly fingers lifted a napkin in tandem, linen and flesh the same ghostly hue. “Deescalating, such a wishy-washy, vague sort of term, don’t you think? Just another word that amounts to losing interest…?”

  “Good old Truman, where is he now? He might have just been willing to nuke Hanoi.” Phillip shook his head, pushed back his chair. “There was a day when decisiveness and statesmanship mattered. Now? It seems as though nothing matters anymore. Which is exactly why we are going to change all that once we launch the program. And once all the players and strategies are an absolute go—and we are so very close—a celebration in Hong Kong certainly bears consideration.”

  The Pale Man nearly knocked over his chair in his haste to intercept the exit Phillip had hoped to gracefully make.

  “Have you time for a game of Go, Phillip? We both know how you love the game.”

  It was true. Only “The Game” in Phillip’s world was far vaster than the ornate board and priceless carved jade bowl filled with black and white stones that Paulu eagerly gestured to. While the strategies between war and life and the game itself bore amazing similarities, Phillip wanted to get back to Kate, see if she had passed yet another test by availing herself of the materials he had left her. So very easy. And yet, so very not.

  “Tempted as I am, duty calls. And besides, we both know how much I love to win and that no one can possibly beat you at the board. Go ahead, Paulu. Admit it.”

  Again his face colored as much as it ever did. “Ah well, Phillip, you cannot blame me for trying to beat you at something. So yet again you win and I will simply have to comfort myself with a lesser player.” He glanced at a watch that no doubt came from the same Austrian palace as the china. “I suppose it is just as well that you have more pleasant interests to occupy your time, since I am expecting company.”

  “I don’t
suppose the expected company is of the female variety? If so, Katherine could use an introduction to just the right new friend. I would make the effort myself but I can’t risk being traced. Katherine is exceptionally bright and inquisitive. And easily bored. Even with me after a while, perhaps, so she may enjoy having a new friend to spend time with—and possibly confide in—as she continues to recover from your generous hosting prior to my arrival…?”

  “Oh my. Again, I am so sorry, Phillip. I will forever make amends in any way possible to you both. Unfortunately, the expected company is the head of RVN transport, a Colonel Vo, who seems a pleasant enough fellow but has proven to be unforgivably greedy and apparently has no idea of who he is playing with. However, I will do my best to supply the requested company for your Katherine and make some inquiries while he is here.”

  Phillip was tired and bored, and if he were injected with a truth serum he would have to admit his worst fear was of Kate becoming tired and bored of him. The thought set his teeth on edge. He didn’t bother with his usual diplomatic niceties to end the meeting and instructed, “You do that.”

  Chapter 18

  The number of the Ten Thousand Beings originates from the One. Therefore the three hundred and sixty intersections of the Wei Chi board also have their One. The One is the generative principle of numbers and, considered as a pole, produces the four cardinal points.

 

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