“I don’t know yet,” Abbot said, “we can’t go back to the house on Sanders, we left a body there, and we probably shouldn't use the Pine Street apartment if we don’t have to. Sally, can you find us some place to hole up?”
“I’ve got several possibilities in mind,” she answered. “I’ll get to work on it.” Then she and Sarbin left, going up the alley toward Howe.
“What about Emily?” Jack asked. “I can take her to my hotel.”
“I wouldn’t chance it,” Abbot said. “Right now I think the best place for her would be her apartment. And I’d better come with you, just in case there’s some trouble.” They took Abbot’s car, leaving Jack’s at the K & K Cafe, so Jack could ride in back with Emily and continue to give her support and comfort. They went directly to Emily’s
apartment building, without any need, at this hour of the morning, to throw off followers.
“We should tell David Mallard about that setup,” Jack said to Abbot.
“Agreed, but it probably won’t do us any good.” “Why not? It’s such a blatant violation, the police and city government couldn’t possibly ignore it, no matter how corrupt they are.”
“Agreed, but I tell you, by the time anybody got around to investigating, all they'd find would be three empty floors. I’ll bet you they’re packing right now, and will be out of there before noon.”
Emily had calmed down by the time they got to her building and was able to walk to the elevator unassisted. But when they went into her apartment and she saw the mess left by Salanis, she started crying again. “What happened to this place?” she sobbed.
“The mob sent somebody over to try to find those photos you took of the Regency,” Jack said. “We can clean it up. I don’t think he did much real damage.”
“Wait here a minute,” Abbot told them while they were still just inside the living room. “I want to make sure there’s nobody here.” He took out his gun and went into the dining room and kitchen. Jack, ignoring Abbot’s instructions, led Emily to her couch and made her lie down. Abbot came back, then went to the bedrooms on the other side of the apartment.
Jack looked around the disheveled room, and saw whiskey bottles in an open cabinet by the windows. He went over and poured a stiff shot of bourbon into a glass, and brought it to Emily.
“Drink this right down,” he told her. “It will make you relax, and maybe help you to get to sleep.”
She did as she was told. “Thank you,” she said, handing the glass back. “I guess it wasn’t my imagination after all. ” “It most certainly wasn’t. There is a conspiracy, at least between the mob and Northampton. We don’t know what it is yet, but we’re going to find out.” He took the folded photos out of his jacket pocket and showed them to her. “These are just copies,” he said. “I sent the originals to someone we can trust, and the rest of the pictures are at my hotel.”
“Do you know who they all are?”
“Most of them by now. Oswald, Kline, and that’s Dwight from Northampton.”
“Yes. And that man,” she pointed at Marty Patrushka, “was in the Delmark Building when I went there Monday night.”
“We know who he is,” Jack said. “These two are dead.” He indicated Rudy Salanis and Ryan Hadly. “And this one is another Visitor named Hickory. You stumbled onto something big, Emily, very big.”
Abbot came back, his gun no longer visible. “The place is clean,” he said. “I mean, there’s nobody here, the back door is locked, the fire exit is locked, we’ll be safe here for a while.”
Emily got up from the couch. Her color was better, and she seemed steady in spite of the quick, stiff drink. “Will you excuse me for a minute,” she said. “I’ll be right back. ” Then she went off toward the bathroom.
“Is there any more of that?” Abbot asked, pointing to Emily’s empty glass.
“In the cabinet behind you,” Jack said. “I don’t think Emily will mind if you help yourself.”
“Can I fix you one?” Abbot asked as he examined the bottles.
“Scotch, please, unblended if she has any.”
“It will have to be Dewars.” He poured two glasses half full and brought them over to Jack, who was now sitting at the end of the couch. They heard a toilet flush, and a moment later Emily came back.
“Do you feel up to telling us what happened?” Abbot asked her as she sat beside Jack.
“I think so. I couldn’t possibly go to sleep right now. But what do you want to know?”
“We’ll know that when we hear it,” Abbot said. “We’re hoping that you might have overheard something, or saw something that will help us figure out what this conspiracy is all about.”
“All right. Where shall I begin?”
“With the pictures,” Jack said. “When did you take them?”
“That was Saturday night. They’re going to tear the Regency down, you know. Nobody will ever build another place like that again. I wanted to record as much as possible while there was still a chance. Have you been inside?” Both men shook their heads.
“You should, if you can, it’s a wonderful place. The architect who designed it, Frank Hebson, incorporated lots of ideas that I can use, with a little updating. And I’m also collecting material for a book.” She turned to Jack. “You say you have the rest of the photos?”
“They’re safe. I’ll get them back to you or to Dahlgren just as soon as I can.”
“That’s good. I don’t know if Fd have the courage to go back to the Regency now. I mean, I had no idea anybody was there with me. I didn’t see anybody, I didn’t hear anybody—”
“Even when you took these pictures?” Abbot asked, pointing to the copies lying on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“No. 1 didn’t see anything when the flash went off, and it was so dark up there, 1 don’t see how those men could have seen each other’s faces.”
“You didn’t see the men in these photos when you developed the pictures?” Jack asked.
“No. By the time I got to the end of the roll, I was pretty tired, and just did it automatically. The first time 1 noticed anything was Sunday night, when I showed the pictures to Vanessa Carpentier, and discovered they were the wrong ones. 1 just glanced at them, didn’t really pay any attention.
1 know now that 1 saw that photo there, where they’re looking at the camera, but I was so embarrassed at making a mistake that I just put it out of my mind.”
“But you dreamed about it,” Jack said.
“Yes, I did. It didn’t make much sense, just men staring at me. The image stayed with me all day Monday. I spent the whole day interviewing fabric designers, and I think I must have made some of them wonder about me, 1 was so distracted. By then I didn’t know whether I’d actually seen somebody in the box, or had just seen a picture like that somewhere, or if it was all just the dream. By the end of the day, I was getting frantic.” She looked at Abbot. “I have problems separating fantasy from reality,” she explained.
“It’s getting a little bit difficult for all of us these days,” Abbot said.
“I suppose so. God knows the world isn’t like it used to be. But I really do have a problem, and I’ve been working with Dr. Page for over a year on it, and I thought I was really making progress. So naturally, by the time I finished work Monday afternoon, I was beginning to get worried. It was like having a relapse.
“I probably would have called you anyway,” she said, turning to Jack, “but when I got home Monday evening, I saw a picture of Vincent Kline in the paper. 1 knew, then, that I had seen his face in one of the photos I’d taken at the Regency. And I remembered that Charles Anthony Oswald had also been in the picture. And 1 remembered Dwight, too, but I didn’t remember who he was, because I was used to seeing him on television in his uniform, and that night he was dressed like a human.
“But then I began to doubt myself. If those men really had been there, then there was something very wrong going on. On the other hand, maybe the whole thing was a delusion, and my s
eeing Kline in the paper had just supplied me with false memories. I couldn’t tell. But I knew, whichever way it was, I needed help. And that’s when I called Dr. Page.”
“You had me worried,” Jack said. “And then when you didn’t show up, it was my tum to get frantic. What happened?”
“I went to my office to get the pictures. That was when I found the ones I was supposed to show Ms. Carpentier, and remembered that I’d taken the Regency pictures to her by mistake. And I’d forgotten to bring them back with me. I was really angry with myself. 1 drove over to the Delmark Building, and I had to park about a half a block away, across the street. If I could have parked in front, I would have gotten away.
“Anyway, I was just going into the Delmark lobby when I saw this man, Marty . . . ?”
“Patrushka,” Jack said.
“Patrushka, coming from the elevators. He didn’t see me at first, but I remembered him from the picture. And then when he did look up and saw me, he smiled, really nasty, and I knew I was in trouble. I ran back out of the building and across the street, and when I started back toward my car, I heard this Patrushka calling to somebody, and a squad car suddenly pulled over to the curb, and this guy, Hickory, got out, with a police captain. I couldn’t believe it was happening. And Patrushka was running across the street toward me, too.
“I felt trapped. I turned around and ran into a Record Bar, but 1 couldn’t find the back door, and when 1 asked the clerk, he looked at me like I was crazy, and then those men came in. The captain pretended it was police business. Hickory and Patrushka grabbed me and dragged me out to the squad car. Hickory said something to me, and I could hear that his voice was a Visitor’s voice.
“1 don’t know what happened then, the next thing I remember was waking up strapped to a chair, with electronics and things—”
“You don’t have to describe it,” Abbot said. “We’ve seen it.”
“Well, everything gets pretty vague after that. I was crazy by then, and I’m sure i was drugged. But they-—they did things to me, and asked me questions, over and over again. Hickory questioned me. Dwight was there sometimes, and then he’d question me. He kept asking me about the pictures, why had I taken them, where were they, other things I can’t remember right now.
“1 couldn’t resist them. I had to tell them the truth, but I didn’t know what it was anymore. I know I told them all kinds of things, different things every time. They’d say something like, you’re working for the government, aren’t you. And I'd think, yes, I was, of course, and I’d invent this elaborate story. But then they’d ask why I took the pictures, and I’d tell them about the book.
“After a while they gave up on me.”
“That was probably the best thing that could have happened,” Jack said. “If you hadn’t been confused, if fantasy and reality were perfectly distinct to you, then they’d have found out all they wanted to know. As it is, they can’t trust anything you told them.”
“But you’re not crazy now,” Abbot said, “and we can learn a lot about what they’re up to from the questions they asked you, from things they might have said to each other or to you. I know you’re tired, we all are, but we may not have very much time. Even something that might seem trivial to you could be important.”
“I’ll try, what do you want to know?”
“Does the term ‘extra low frequency radiation’ mean anything to you?”
“No.”
“They might have called it ELF,” Jack said.
“Yes, 1 heard that several times; 1 don’t remember who said it.”
“What did they say about it?” Abbot asked. “What was the context?”
“I really don’t remember. They weren’t talking to me, and I’m afraid I really wasn’t paying very close attention. But right after that they took me into a room and made me watch TV for a while. I couldn’t figure it out. They put my head in a kind of vice, and I couldn’t close my eyes or look away. They left me there for about an hour, and then came back and started asking questions, how did 1 feel about them, what did I think about Northampton, silly stuff like that.”
“I think we’ve done enough for now,” Jack said to Abbot. “You realize it’s after five? We all need some sleep.”
“I guess you’re right,” Abbot said. “I wouldn’t recognize a clue if it came by. But I don’t want to leave Emily here alone, and there’s no place safe to take her until Sally calls. By now, the whole Northampton establishment will know Emily’s been sprung. It will be only a matter of time before they decide to look here.”
“One of you could sleep on the couch,” Emily said.
“I could sleep on the floor with no difficulty,” Jack said.
“All right,” Emily said. “I’ll let you take care of yourselves.” She got up and went unsteadily toward the bedroom. At the door, she stopped and turned around. “Thank you, Dr. Page,” she said, and then left them there.
“Pull off those cushions,” Abbot told Jack. He went to the front door as Jack did so, and made sure it was locked and bolted. Morning sunlight was coming in the curtained windows, but neither of them cared. Jack lay on the cushions, Abbot on the couch, and within moments both were asleep.
It seemed to Jack that he’d just closed his eyes when he felt someone gently shaking his shoulder. It was Emily.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Page, it’s silly, I know, but I just can’t stop thinking about that contract with Vanessa Carpentier. Do you have a sleeping pill?”
“What time is it?” Jack muttered.
“A little after seven. I’m sorry, I'm so tired, I just can’t go to sleep.”
“Have another drink,” Abbot said from the couch. “Have two. How can you worry about Carpentier when there’s something potentially much more important at
stake?”
“Please don’t be angry, Mr. Abbot. There’s nothing I’d like better than to sleep the clock around, but what can I do?
The Carpentier job is the biggest thing that’s ever come my way.”
“There’s nothing you can do about it now,” Jack told her.
“I can call Marvin, talk with him about it, tell him what to do.”
“At this hour?”
“Marvin’s a morning person. I don’t want to lose this contract.”
“All right,” Abbot said, “just be very careful what you say to him.” ,
“1 won’t talk about anything but the job, I promise.”
She went over to the phone by the door leading to the bedroom. Jack rolled over on his face, but he, too, was wide awake now. He sat up on the cushions and looked at Abbot, who was staring owlishly back at him.
“Coffee?” Jack asked.
’‘Might as well.”
They both went into the kitchen and while Jack tried to figure out how the coffee maker worked, Abbot got out eggs and bacon.
“I've been thinking about what we’ve learned so far,” Abbot said, cracking eggs into a bowl. “I’m getting the idea that this conspiracy has something to do with deep propaganda and mind control.”
“Still mind control?” Jack asked.
“Well, I could be wrong, but look at it. ELF has to do with brain waves. Dwight is the number two man in Northampton’s department of Human-Visitor relations. He’s also been involved with setting up a TV station in Northampton, and what’s that silly thing about forcing Emily to watch Gandhi on TV?”
“I see the connection,” Jack said, “sort of, but it seems like you’re kind of reaching. How do Kline and Oswald fit into this theory of yours?”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m just suffering from lack of sleep. But I’m sure we could learn a lot from Emily, if we can just get her to remember what people said to her, and said in her presence.”
“I’ll do better,” Emily said from the doorway, “after a good night’s sleep. But Mr. Abbot, how can you trust anything I tell you, any more than the Visitors did? 1 think my thinking is straight now, but it certainly wasn’t then, and all my memories of that time
are rather fuzzy.”
“We have one advantage,” Jack said. “I’m your therapist, I know you pretty well, and I know how your thought patterns work. 1 should be able to tell whether you’re on the right track or not. Too, you won’t be under the same kind of stress with us as you were back there. And besides, we’ll give you all the information you need to help you remember. We’ll learn a lot, Emily, don’t worry about that.”
“Do you want to talk about it now?” she asked.
“No, we’re all too tired. At least we’re going to have a good breakfast.”
“What about Dahlgren?” Abbot asked as Emily got out plates and forks.
“He’s coming right over,” she said. “All 1 told him was that I was back, but that he’d have to be the one to work with Ms. Carpentier.”
“That’s good,” Abbot said. “If he needs to know anything more, we can tell him when he gets here.” “I’m remembering something,” Emily said as they ate. “I don’t know if it means anything, but one time when Dwight and Hickory were talking, they said something about subliminal messages.”
“In what context?” Abbot asked.
“I’m not sure, but it had something to do with TV, I think.”
“You know,” Abbot said, “TV keeps cropping up. Hickory worked with Carpentier, setting up that TV station in Northampton. And they made Emily watch a TV show for no apparent reason.”
“Unless it was to test the effectivity of some kind of subliminal conditioning,” Jack said. “Did you notice anything at all like that?” he asked Emily.
“Not that I can remember.”
“I wonder if Carpentier could tell us anything,” Abbot said.
“Possibly,” Jack said, “David Mallard said they did a full investigation and found nothing at all out of the ordinary—aside from the fact of the job itself.”
“There’s another word,” Emily said. “‘Psychoneurological.’ Does that mean anything to you?”
“It could mean all kinds of things,” Jack said.
“Dwight also said something about people being more ‘cooperative’ with the Visitors, and ‘agreeable to their plans.’ ”
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