by Keith Yocum
“Who can untie me then?”
Agata sighed and shrugged. “So sorry,” she said. “I go now and get them.”
“Get who?” Judy said.
Agata smiled, stood up and walked in small delicate steps around the bed and out the door into a hallway.
She tried the bindings again, but they were expertly attached to her wrists and ankles. The sense of powerlessness was barely surpassed by dread.
Where am I? I think I was grabbed and thrown into a van while jogging. Is that what happened, or did I just imagine it? Why am I so foggy? What in God’s name do they want with me?
Judy turned her head toward the door as the sound of footsteps came from the hallway.
✦
He boarded the flight as if weighted down by a thousand bungee cords; he moved slowly, each step farther from London stretching the cords to their limit. Dennis wondered vaguely if he was being observed, but it was not important. He’d decided to accede to Louise’s dictum, even though it ran counter to his desire to search the entire city of London by himself.
But he was also very disturbed by the swirling events that had occurred in a short span of time in the United Kingdom; Freddie poisoned and deceased, and now Judy missing. An investigation of a missing agency official had spawned a cascade of violence and loss. Now he was being recalled and prevented from doing the only thing he wanted: looking for Judy. How could this be happening? Why was this happening?
✦
“But I’d like to talk to those folks,” he said. “Why can’t I?”
“Dennis, it’s simply not something we do,” Louise said. “It’s bad precedent. We can’t let those investigators talk to you. Months from now the Aussies will bring it up again as justification for interviewing another agency employee on some cockamamie case, and we’ll have to dance around a denial. It’s just not done. And by the way, you look like shit. When was the last time you shaved?”
“The day Judy disappeared.”
“I see.”
“I know you think I’m being a pain in the ass,” he said, “or worse, that I’m off my rocker, but Judy is still missing, and I think I could get something out of talking to these investigators.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that these folks worked with Judy in Perth. They have some questions about my relationship with Judy, and I have questions about Judy that I’d like them to answer. Each day that goes by with her missing is bad, Louise. You know that. You’ve grounded me, taken me off the investigation and put me in limbo. I’m just trying to warn you that I did my part by getting out of London, but at this point I don’t care about my career. In fact, I don’t care about anything except finding Judy. And after I find her, I’m going to find my Ukrainian friend.”
“Jesus, you are a wreck. You can’t just go off running back to London. And stop mentioning the Ukrainian. You’re not in operations, and if there was a directive for action against him, it would not include an OIG investigator, that’s for sure. You’re not a contract killer, for God’s sake, you’re a simple investigator.”
“Louise, how long have we worked together?”
“Couple of months. Seems like a couple of centuries.”
“Okay. I’m trying to communicate to you that I’m about to skedaddle out of here unless you do something to help me. I’ll resign and go back to London.”
“That won’t do, and you know it. They’ll cancel your passport.”
“I have several passports.”
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll find you in London and arrest you. It’s an island, Dennis. You know they’ll find you. I told you there is nothing I can do. I can’t single-handedly change agency policy, for God’s sakes. What is it you expect me to do? Get myself fired for you?”
“I have an idea,” he said.
“And what would that be?”
“Why don’t you tell the powers that be that you suspect I had a hand in Judy’s disappearance and that you think it would help confirm your fears if the Australian investigators got a chance to interrogate me?”
Louise’s head tilted left, then right. Each time, her straight blond hair flopped to the side, exposing a delicate, gold starfish earring. “You’re a very odd person,” she said slowly. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met someone quite like you. And I’ve met a few questionable people.”
Dennis waited. She stared at him. Her phone rang, and she ignored it until it went to voicemail.
“You understand this is a pretty dangerous game you’re playing, right?”
“What else am I to do, Louise? I’m going nuts sitting here worrying about her. Help me out, would you? You’re covered on this. If this thing turns sideways, it’s my ass, not yours.”
“I’ll let you know,” she said.
“Soon, please.”
“Go now.”
✦
Agata entered the room first, followed by two men. The first one was short and thin, with medium-cropped black hair, a thick mustache and a long, thin nose. The second man was bulky, fat-fingered and bald.
“Hello,” the small man said. “How are you today?”
Judy said nothing as they entered the room and stood on the right side of the bed near the door. Agata walked around and sat next to Judy on her left. She gently stroked Judy’s hair, but Judy shook her head and said, “Stop it.”
“How are you today?” the small man repeated.
Judy stared at the two men who stood to the right of the bed. Her mind whirred with anxiety: What did they want with me? What am I doing here? Was I grabbed randomly or was I targeted?
“Not feeling so well?” the small man said. Judy noticed his accent; it was Eastern European, perhaps. “That is understandable. It happens a lot. Agata here will bring some food and water for you. Please make sure you stay healthy. That is very important.”
The burly man opened a package covered in black cloth and tied together by a black ribbon. Agata began to gently stroke Judy’s forehead and hair.
Judy arched her back and tried to pull her arms free of the constraints as she saw the small man fidgeting with the syringe. Agata cooed softly to Judy as she yelled and whipped her head back and forth on the pillow.
The burly man sat on the bed and tied a rubber tube around Judy’s right bicep; his hands were so large and powerful that she could not move her arm, though the rest of her body writhed. She saw the small man lean forward, she felt a very sharp prick, a tiny amount of pain, then the most amazing feeling of pleasure cascaded from the top of her head down to her toes.
“Ah, yes,” she heard Agata purr as Judy’s eyelids fluttered. “Isn’t that nice?”
✦
Dr. Forrester sat impassively listening to Dennis, nodding and taking a small note every now and then.
“There is no new information on Judy?” she said.
“Nothing. She’s vanished. And I’m going back to look for her. I don’t care what my new boss thinks.”
“But the consequences seem very severe, Dennis, don’t you think?”
“Who cares?”
“This man, Freddie; you sounded very fond of him. It must have been very hard for you to see him suffer.”
Dennis had been seeing the agency-approved psychologist for several years, and while he grudgingly agreed that his self-awareness had improved greatly, he was also growing tired of her efforts to get him to express emotion. She was doing it now by drawing him out on Freddie.
“Yes, of course it was tough to watch. Especially since it was my idea to bring him along to visit that Ukrainian.”
“Do you feel guilty for his death?”
“Of course I do!”
“Are you sure you were responsible? You said there is no hard evidence it was the visit to the Ukrainian that caused the poisoning. And even if it was related, Freddie agreed to go along
, didn’t he? You didn’t force him.”
“Yes, that’s true, but it was all because of me,” Dennis said. “I could have left him back at the hotel. And now he’s dead.”
“When you called me from London, you sounded like you were in crisis, but I’ve seen you twice since, and you appear more controlled. What’s happened to calm you down?”
“I’m more focused now. I have a plan.”
“What kind of plan?” Dr. Forrester asked.
Dennis frowned. “A plan.”
“Do you intend to hurt someone, or even yourself?”
“Hurt myself? Of course not.”
“Dennis, I feel like you’re manipulating me right now. That’s not how we’ve interacted in the past. We’ve always been truthful with each other, as hard as that has been at times.”
“I’m being truthful now. I have a plan. I feel focused. I feel calm. I’ve always been better when I’m mission-oriented. I don’t think that’s a surprise.”
“No, that is not a surprise,” she said. “But the plan thing worries me.”
“A man without a plan is not a man. Nietzsche said that.”
“Heavens, Dennis. Nietzsche?”
“Great Hall of Fame player. Played second base for the ’42 Dodgers. Hit for power.”
“I think our time is up today,” Dr. Forrester said.
✦
The room was too large for four people, but it was just as well in order to defuse the tension, Dennis thought.
“Thank you for permitting us to visit,” Clive said to Louise. “I gather that there were official objections to the request, but again, we appreciate your cooperation. Meeting here at Langley is quite impressive. Never thought I’d ever be inside the inner sanctum of the CIA. My colleague Phil and I were hoping to ask Dennis just a few questions and leave you busy folks to your work.”
Louise nodded politely. “Well, we’re not in the inner sanctum. This is the public area at Langley. But please proceed.”
“Ah well, then,” Clive said, “let’s get going.”
Dennis did his best to appear polite and calm during his recitation of the events surrounding Judy’s disappearance. The Aussies had placed a small digital recording device on the table, and Dennis attempted to speak toward it, as if the device was a person. The questioning was moving along in an orderly fashion when Phil suddenly said, “Do you normally go through Judy’s personal belongings?”
“Pardon?” Dennis said.
“You know, do you typically browse through Judy’s purse and wallet?”
“I don’t get you.”
“Your fingerprints were discovered on every item in Judy’s purse, including her credit cards, compact, nail file, comb, everything,” Phil said.
Dennis felt Louise’s head swivel a modest degree in his direction.
“No. I believe I looked through her purse to see if I could find anything that would explain where she was.”
“But her credit cards? Her passport?” Phil said.
Dennis felt a sudden surge of anger, and he knew it would be a bad decision to show it, so he used a small trick to distract himself. He focused on a tiny freckle on Phil’s forehead, above his right eye.
“Like I said, I looked through everything I thought might provide a hint to why she was missing.”
“I see,” Phil said.
Clive picked up the questioning and pressed on Dennis’s efforts to find her, including checking with the lobby, his calls to local hospitals and the police. And then, just when Dennis felt the session was drawing to a close, Clive said, “Did you cut yourself in the hotel room?”
“What?”
“Did you cut yourself?”
“No, why?”
“Did Judy injure herself or cut herself in the hotel room?”
“No,” he said, too quickly, as a surge of anger bubbled up and overrode his caution.
“Well, the hotel maid reported that one day when she emptied the waste bin in the bathroom, there were several tissues with large blood stains on them. Of course, it was too late to find out where the trash was sent to, so we could not corroborate it.”
“Judy cut herself shaving,” Dennis said. “I forgot that.”
Again, he felt Louise’s head twitch minutely in his direction.
“But I thought you just said neither of you cut yourselves,” Clive said.
“I said I forgot. She cut herself shaving her legs.”
“What else might you have forgotten?” Phil said.
“Well, I forgot how idiotic AFP investigators are.”
“Dennis,” Louise said.
“Sorry.”
The two men looked at each other and then back to Dennis.
“Is there anything else you left out that we should know?” Clive asked.
“Yes, actually. Have you looked into her recent cases that raised any red flags? Had she received death threats?”
“None that we know of,” Clive said. “We worked together on most of our cases, and she would have notified the group if she had been threatened. But it’s not impossible that a disgruntled criminal might try something stupid.”
“Like who?” Dennis asked.
“There are so many cases she worked on over the years that it’s impossible to guess. But we are looking into that. And there was the famous Voorster case, which you know all too well.”
“Who’s Voorster?” Louise said.
“A South African gangster,” Phil said. “Judy broke up a drug ring, with help from yours truly sitting next to you.”
Louise looked at Dennis. “You?”
“It’s a long story,” Dennis said.
“What happened to this Voorster guy?” Louise said.
“He disappeared,” Phil said. “There’s every reason to believe he’s dead. We get false reports of his reappearance all the time, but our best guess is that he’s dead or in prison.”
“She mentioned something about a botched raid on a junkyard,” Dennis said. “It involved dogs that had to be shot. Was that case ever cleaned up? She said she was pretty shook up by that.”
“Ah, yes, you are correct,” Clive said. “I wouldn’t say the case was botched, per se. But we did not find what we were looking for at that time, so the case was closed.”
“Did she get knocked to the ground by a pit bull?”
“Yes, she did, unfortunately. She was quite upset about it.”
“And her former husband is still in jail?”
“Yes, for several years more.”
✦
Judy had stopped fighting; it was pointless. She did not know how many days she had been there. The big man was too strong, and the sensation of the drug hitting her bloodstream was pleasurable beyond belief. The sensation was so overwhelming that she began to justify not resisting.
The big one will just hurt me, she thought. I can’t do anything except lie here. It will end soon, so why resist? If they wanted to kill me, they wouldn’t bother me with these drugs. I’ll wait them out.
And perversely, the presence of Agata during the injections was reassuring and vaguely sexual. Agata had taken to kissing Judy’s forehead and stroking her hair and whispering things like, “You are so beautiful,” or “Isn’t that a nice feeling? You deserve to feel this way.”
Judy knew they were addicting her, but she no longer cared or even wondered why. For most of the time she was no longer tied up to the bed. She sat on the bed or chair and waited patiently for the next injection. Agata had brought Judy a bright blue silk bathrobe and clean underwear. Three times a day, she also brought food and drink; Judy used the small toilet and sink. Had she been there a week? A month? She had no idea. The confusion and strangeness of her time there evaporated into the background; all she thought about were the injections. They were so nice; she loved them and was no
longer self-conscious about wanting the next one. Her dreams at night were milky and indistinct. There was nothing in her life now except the injections.
But then something happened to alter her small world of pleasure.
The first time they held back on the injections, Judy began to feel ill. It was a sickness that slowly began to gnaw away at her skin, teeth and brain. She started moaning and moved toward the locked door, pressing her ear against it to see if they were coming.
They didn’t come.
She pounded on the door.
They didn’t come.
She suddenly started to vomit and raced to the toilet. Judy had never felt so sick; every molecule in her body began to ache with a pain that was unbearable.
Steps could be heard coming down the hallway, and Judy could barely stand. The door opened, and Agata came in first.
“Ah, you poor thing. Come here and lie down.”
Judy rushed to the bed, flopped down and put her right arm out. There was no struggle any longer; the big man was not there, just Agata and the small man. They injected her, and she welcomed it, her eyes fluttering and finally closing.
Agata kissed her forehead, then her lips gently. “You rest for a while.”
✦
It was not something he’d intended to do at the outset, but it was clear that it might be his only chance.
Representative Barkley’s chief of staff, Chuck Morton, was a surprisingly young man, perhaps no more than thirty-five, Dennis thought. He waited in the outer office for thirty minutes before he was ushered into his office.
“So, how can I help you?” Morton said. “You said you’ve talked to the representative before? You work in OIG in Langley?”
“Yes, that’s correct. And Representative Barkley and I have an understanding,” Dennis said.
“What kind of understanding?”
“An understanding that we will communicate with each other when there are pressing issues to discuss.”
Morton cleared his throat, unscrewed the cap of a plastic bottle of water, took a short sip, then slowly and deliberately screwed it back on. His hand on the thin plastic water bottle made a crinkling sound.
“I see. And am I to presume you would like me to mention to the congressman that you have a pressing issue to discuss?”