by Rivers, Mal
“Yeah, well, excuse me. It’s not my fault Ryder ignored advice and went ahead first—”
She was cut off mid sentence by a thud down the street. I turned my head, not really knowing what the fuss was. Sirens were screaming and paramedics were running down the street.
“Melissa—” Ryder shouted. “Is it Melissa?”
Sully shook his head. “That’s—they’re running to an ambulance.”
“Jesus,” Gibbs said, “that’s the ambulance Bishop went away in.”
Gibbs and Sully ran off in the paramedics’ direction. I left Ryder out on the sidewalk, and tried to keep up, but my legs were telling me otherwise. From a distance, I saw the ambulance, turned over on its side in the middle of the road. Gibbs, along with armed support, checked the back doors. When there was no sign of the doors opening, Gibbs called out to an officer to open them. Of all the possible outcomes, it would be suffice to say no one expected the carnage inside.
With the ambulance the way it was, the right wall was now the ambulance floor, and Dr Bishop was sitting cross legged upon it. The gurney and equipment were sprawled across the floor behind her, and two paramedics lay beside her, their necks completely lacerated. Blood trailed across the floor and ran to the edge of Dr Bishop’s feet. The walls had two distinct spray marks, red, rising upward. In one hand, Dr Bishop held around her wrist the handcuffs applied to her. Her other hand was free, with a dislocated thumb. Judging by the state of the paramedics, she had used the sharp ends of the free handcuff to slash at their necks.
With the handcuffs still present, the FBI and local police were cautious. It’s okay pointing a gun at someone, but in a tight space, with the law dictating not to open fire unless provoked, there was little else to do. They ordered her out of the ambulance, but she just sat there, half the time motionless, with her eyes closed. Then, she would just smile outward, at no one in particular. The blood across her face exaggerated the smile beyond a level of borderline psychotic behavior.
Eventually, she rose and walked out. When agents restrained her, she didn’t move a muscle.
She looked at Ryder, now beside me, and said only these words, “You and I, we keep going to the bitter end,” and she smiled. Her tongue came out slightly and cleaned away the blood on her lips.
It wasn’t until after inspection we realized what had gone down. Dr Bishop had opened the sliding window leading into the driver’s seat, and then attempted to strangle the driver, causing the ambulance to sharply turn up and onto the sidewalk. After hitting a hydrant, the ambulance spun back into the street, and tipped over onto its side.
A part of me wondered if Dr Bishop intended to escape driving the ambulance. The other part considered that she was just insane.
As a psychiatrist, I’m sure she’d argue either way.
41
A week went by, and the damage caused by Dr Bishop was still visible and within us.
Kacie Cordell remains in hospital. She recovered from the blood loss, but has continuing problems with infection, given the environment in which she received the wounds. Melissa visits her daily and takes her flowers.
Their relationship is now out in the open, and I wish them well, choosing not to question why they kept it secret. I considered that Kacie wanted to keep it from her colleagues, whose opinions on anyone related to Ryder are always divided. I later realized there might have been another reason, which will appear soon.
Ryder still has the sling and refrains from taking appointments. She keeps to her routine of pier fishing, although, I have no idea how she manages with a single hand.
As for Gillham and Mane, I hear the company has been given a major overhaul. Graham Rudd and Doreen Sharp are imprisoned awaiting trial for various counts of criminal activity, along with the rest of Andonian’s gang. Robyn Faith was appointed Company Secretary, and no one mentions the name of Guy Lynch anymore.
The press ran the story in all manner of ways. Such was the misconception of Guy Lynch’s actions. The public remain unaware of his motives and the history of the corrupt organization that Dr Bishop had spearheaded some twelve years ago. Some people had to become privy to Ryder’s past, though. The scar she possesses will remain hidden, but Agent Gibbs, among others, is aware of her history.
Laura Harles committed suicide on the night she was contained, using her shirt to hang herself from a light fitting when she was left alone in her cell.
Zeus Higgings remains at large, much to our annoyance. We still refuse armed protection, even though he may feel he has unfinished business with us.
The CID, Ryder’s former employers, formally thanked her and paid a fee for the way she handled events. They are taking steps to make sure Dr Bishop is handled appropriately, and that no information leaks forth from her mouth, but I assume it will be a tricky process. After a lot of arguing and red tape among various authorities, Dr Bishop was, coincidentally, sent to the Naval Consolidated Brig, Miramar, essentially the Leavenworth for females.
Two days after, we received word that she killed an inmate, crushing in her skull against a brick wall repeatedly. On the very night she was subjected to solitary confinement, with all personal items removed from the cell, she tore into a guard, pressing her finger directly into his eye, burying it deep before the guard collapsed to the floor.
I’m not sure why Gibbs thought we wanted to know. As far as I was concerned, I wanted to be done with Dr Bishop. But, when I received another phone call from Gibbs, I realized that wasn’t going to be the case.
“Miramar called us yesterday,” Gibbs said. “They want Ryder.”
“Why?” I said.
“Bishop won’t cooperate. They’re trying to get at her for what happened twelve years ago. But she’s screwing them around.”
“Ryder’s a detective, not an interrogator.”
“It’s not like that—it’s Bishop that wants her. She says she’ll cooperate if she talks to Ryder.”
I paused, and shook my head. “Nerks. I’m not asking her to do that.”
“What’s she got to lose? Bishop will be restrained, probably in a cell. She can leave at any time, and, I doubt she’s going to let Bishop get to her.”
In the end, I did ask Ryder, and she agreed to do right by the CID, considering they had rewarded her efforts earlier on.
On the way to Miramar, Ryder remained quiet and concerned. Not merely for her planned visit to Dr Bishop, she is just exceptionally poor at traveling long distances. God knows how she managed as a soldier.
At 5PM, the only time they could offer us, which had something to do with inmate rotation and staff availability, we were in the warden’s office.
The warden, James Burling, was a large, brooding man with a white beard worthy of a wizard. His strong accent was off putting to a British man like myself. Shortly after, the room gathered men and women from different agencies. Two officers of the CID greeted Ryder, and she simply nodded at them. A female psychiatrist who worked in-house was paired up with a Dr Kruch, Kansas Division of Behavioral Health. Agent Gibbs couldn’t be with us, but representatives of the San Diego FBI were here to oversee things.
Aside from wanting to know everything about what Dr Bishop may or may not have been involved in, past or present, there was a considerable amount of emphasis on psychological interpretation. Dr Kruch was insistent that she be transferred to a facility for the criminally insane, however, there were those against such a situation, insisting that Dr Bishop had killed the guard and inmate to initiate such thought, so as to get out of Miramar.
Ryder wouldn’t comment on anything.
“Okay, listen up,” Burling said. “This here is my show. You can argue all you want outside these walls, but in here, until someone gets an order to say otherwise, you will follow my rules.” He looked at Ryder. “Ma’am, I highly suggest you do not engage Dr Bishop, for the good of your health.”
“Now look here,” one of the CID officers objected. “We’ve been through this, Bishop insists on seeing her. For the s
ake of her cooperation—”
Burling interrupted. “With all due respect, sir, that ain’t your call. Miss Ryder here should be made aware of the danger.” He licked his lips to supplement his thick voice. “Dr Bishop is incredibly temperamental. In all my years I haven’t seen anything like it. She engaged one of my guards in conversation. For an hour she was very cordial. The guard saw fit to remove her restraints in good faith. For twenty minutes, she remained calm, and suddenly, she lunged at him. There was a plastic knife from her meal, but she didn’t even think to use it. She pushed her index finger right through to the brain.” He shook his head. “She has a way with words. Not only is she in solitary—I swear to God I’m considering giving the guards ear defenders when they’re around her. I’ve had one call in sick today. He couldn’t take facing her—”
Ryder twitched her arm in the sling and let out a sigh. “Nothing she says can affect me. She was trained to prick emotional thoughts with a singular act. To do so, she infiltrates emotions, using her methods to dig into someone’s heart. She will need to do a lot more than dig to reach mine.”
No one said anything to this and I just looked away. Ryder and I were hardly on speaking terms of late, and her reinforcing the point that she’s about as cold as a reptile just felt—well, cold.
Burling cleared his throat and said, “It’s your decision.” He looked around the room and sighed. “This is how it’s going to go. She is not in her cell anymore. It is causing too many problems. It’s too small and doesn’t have a clear view from the outside. We have since cleaned out an old dental office and removed all furniture and fittings, aside from a dental chair. We installed a remote camera in the top corner of the room, so at all times we know where in the room she is. If she ever wants her food for the day, she has to be on the chair, while a guard enters, armed with an incapacitating weapon. A few hours ago, she agreed to be sedated, after which we secured her to the dental chair. All we have to do is wait for her to wake.
“As for what happens now, only you will enter the room. Anyone here wishing to watch may do so from the surveillance room. Do not approach Dr Bishop under any circumstances. She is restrained, but she still has her teeth. We could have gagged her, but I didn’t see the point if she’s expecting a conversation.”
Some mumbling ensued among the other people in the room. Ryder accepted Burling’s terms, and we waited in the surveillance room for Dr Bishop to wake.
At 6.30PM, Dr Bishop stirred. She looked up at the camera and shot it a wide smile with a blink, her hair had departed the straight and glamorous look it once had. I tried to follow Ryder as Burling led her down the hall, but she insisted she’d be okay, and I wasn’t to argue. I watched her disappear into a set of double doors that led out into the medical wing, and I returned to the surveillance room.
I watched the camera with eager anticipation, unsure of how to take in what was about to happen. Should I stand at the back nonchalantly, with folded arms like a tough guy, or insist that I had a right to the seat directly in front of the monitors? In the end it didn’t matter. Dr Kruch was already sitting up front with the psychiatrist. The rest of us huddled around behind them. The camera transmitted audio, but it had a tendency to cut out here and then.
It took two minutes for Ryder to enter the room. The angle of the camera centered on Dr Bishop, and Ryder only barely came into view. Ryder had stopped a good fifteen feet away from Dr Bishop, and stood upright, adjusting her sling, merely nodding at Dr Bishop.
Dr Bishop, slouched in the chair, couldn’t adjust her position due to the restraints. Her arms were cuffed to the rests at the side, and both her legs and chest had a series of belts constricting her to the chair. Even so, she attempted to raise her head.
“You came,” Dr Bishop said, smiling still.
“Clearly,” Ryder acknowledged.
“Forgive me if I don’t shake your hand like last time. Circumstances won’t permit it.”
“The blame for that clearly belongs to you, not I.”
“Of course. Now, won’t you sit?”
“It is my intention to stand, hear what you have to say, and leave.”
“That won’t do,” Dr Bishop snarled. “Besides, it is I who wish to hear what you have to say.”
Ryder gave an irritated turn of the head. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because your terms for compliance with the authorities dictated as such.”
Dr Bishop laughed degradingly. “Oh, you surely don’t expect that to happen. I have no intention of doing such a thing.” People mumbled inside the surveillance room. The CID officers shook their heads and one of them walked off into the hall. Dr Bishop continued, “Regardless of whether I comply or not—surely you don’t expect me to believe that you came here for the sake of such an obligation.”
“Why else would I be here?” Ryder said.
“Curiosity. Let’s not play tricks here. You knew I was offering a false promise to the CID just to get you here. So it is you who wish to hear what I have to say, not the other way around.”
Ryder remained silent.
“Tell me, what happened to Miss Harles?” Dr Bishop asked.
“She hanged herself in prison. I suppose you already knew that.”
“No, I did not, but I assumed as much.”
“Why would you assume that?”
“Because I told her to do it.”
Ryder’s head lowered. I couldn’t see her full face, but I imagined her to be squinting.
“Hypnosis?” Ryder said hesitantly.
Dr Bishop nodded. “As you yourself will probably know, hypnosis is incredibly restrictive. You cannot simply instruct, you can only suggest, and if the suggestion is not within the patient’s own merits as a person, it will be unsuccessful. You cannot simply tell someone to kill themselves, or to commit a bank robbery, if they don’t desire or justify such action.” She smiled. “But if you gradually break down their defenses, knock at the barricades of rationalization—well, then it becomes a different story.”
“You’re saying that Laura Harles was your patient as well as Andonian?”
“Yes. I of course met Andonian first. It didn’t take long to break through him. The desire was already there. It was easy to manipulate him. When I discovered the potential revenue scheme his operation possessed, and the possibility and ease of extracting it from him, I just couldn’t resist. The so-called ‘corrupt’ organization, as you put it, from twelve years ago is still pretty much in business, but I had left some time ago to set up an honest life. But it bored me and left me unfulfilled. Reuniting with my old ways was like an awakening. And after that, I just had to settle our little score.”
Ryder shook her head. “You talk of psychology, and people’s intentions, but you’re just a fool to yourself. Your own mind is just as fragile and unstable as anyone else’s is. The fact you waited twelve years to attempt a reprisal against me proves as much.”
Dr Bishop laughed. “We’re all fools. Take Guy. Why do you think he moved to California? To get away from our unit after ratting on his brother? No, because that was part of the plan. Lee took the fall for his brother, and insisted his brother testify against him, and Guy never forgave himself. The truth of it is, I think he moved to be near you. He knew the day would come when he’d sink back into his old ways, just as I did. Even if Guy intended some form of penance with his last act, don’t be misled, he was a killer, and he liked it. Why else would he have done what he did for Andonian without refusal? He was as fickle and foolish as anyone.”
“Yet you think he wanted me to catch him?”
“Something like that,” Bishop pursed her lips. “The only reason I’m a fool is because I had no idea he’d actually engage you. But no one is omnipotent. It takes chaos to fight chaos, and even though you’d deny it, you used it to your own benefit.”
“I used logic, and logic is reason, not chaos. In either case, this is rather tiresome. If you have nothing p
oignant to say, then I’ll just say good day.” Ryder turned.
“Hold on there,” Dr Bishop called out. “I’m not finished.”
Ryder stopped, but didn’t turn around.
“I said I didn’t intend to comply. That isn’t completely true. I just intend to comply in another area altogether.”
This caught Ryder’s attention. Hell, it caught everyone’s attention.
“What area would that be?” Ryder said as she returned her attention to Dr Bishop.
“Hmmm, let’s just say—criminal activity not related to my unit.”
“I highly doubt the CID will be interested,” Ryder said.
“Perhaps not, but your friends at the FBI will.” Dr Bishop tilted her head. “Obviously, before my incarceration here, I had a very busy practice. It seems there are many damaged, even crazy people in California. How many patients do you suppose I had?”
Ryder didn’t answer. She never liked to play guessing games.
“So many I can’t recall.” Dr Bishop smiled. “Some of them fragile. All it took was a simple prod, and that was it.”
“Are you trying to insinuate that you have more bodies hidden somewhere?”
Dr Bishop. “Not I, no, but I’m sure there are bodies to be found. Let’s just say—some of my patients may have bodies hidden somewhere.”
Ryder came closer to her, to the foot of her chair. “What have you done?”
“Murder is a good problem solver, Miss Ryder. Surely I have proved that recently. And a lot of people have problems that need solving.”
“Good God,” Ryder said, “you poisoned them into a mind to murder?”
“Hypnosis, poison, suggestion—it all amounts to the same thing.”
The surveillance room was stirring. The CID officers were outraged a long time before. The FBI agents looked shocked, and the psychiatrists baffled.
“Is that even possible?” I said to Dr Kruch. “To turn someone into a murderer?”
Dr Kruch rubbed his chin, still facing the monitor. “I suppose, but I wouldn’t take her word for it.”