“Happy thought. You know she’ll come dancing to Georgetown to kill you.” She tapped him lightly on the nose. “You know what I’m thinking?”
That was not a business tone of voice. Savich stared up at her and waited.
“I’m picturing fractal art in my head—all wild colors and chaos and unpredictability, so I’m thinking a smart woman should take her opportunity while all the bedlam’s still outside the door.”
“Yeah? What opportunity?”
She leaned down and kissed him.
36
ROCKINGHAM COUNTY HOSPITAL
NEAR TITUSVILLE, VIRGINIA
Wednesday morning
“Sheriff Merriweather, I simply don’t understand any of this. You say his man—who, by the way, is not only older than I am but is also too weak to even open his eyes—is so dangerous he has to be blind-folded at all times or he will somehow hypnotize me?”
“If he wants to, yes. You and anyone else who looks at him.” And, Ethan thought, I’ve told you this three times now, you idiot.
“And I’m telling you it’s simply not possible for a person to somehow take over another person’s mind. And keeping his hands strapped down to his sides so he can’t pull off the blindfold—come on, Sheriff Merriweather, don’t you think this is a little over the top?”
Well, yeah, the blindfold and the tied wrists did look like they were over the top, or maybe they looked just plain crazy, but he had to try to make this man understand, or what chance did they have of keeping Blessed in the hospital, much less ever getting him to trial? “Dr. Truitt, listen to me. You need to trust me. We must take every precaution with this guy. I can tell you I’ve already seen him hypnotize three different people—he took them over completely.”
A gray eyebrow went up a good two inches, and Ethan’s frustration burst into the stratosphere. If he couldn’t convince this doctor, how could he convince anyone of the monstrous danger that was Blessed Backman? “I know you think I’m exaggerating, I wouldn’t believe me either, but the fact is, I’ve seen what he does with my own eyes. You’ve spoken to Dr. Spitz, heard the stories my deputies told him. This man was this close to making Mrs. Backman kill herself.”
“Isn’t Dr. Spitz a country doctor, a general practitioner?” Ethan heard the smooth touch of condescension in Dr. Truitt’s voice.
“And you think he’s been duped, right?”
“No, no, surely not, but all this nonsense about instant hypnosis, people killing themselves through suggestion—”
Ethan could see the future stretching out in front of him, constantly explaining and justifying himself, trying to make people believe what Blessed Backman was fully capable of and fully prepared to do to anyone who got in his way or could be of use to him. He said, “I’m going to keep him blindfolded, because the minute the pain meds kick in, the minute he’s able to concentrate and focus, he’ll be at it again, and trust me, you don’t want to be on the receiving end. So you fully understand, he brutally murdered a hiker yesterday in Titus Hitch, left him for animals to savage.”
Dr. Truitt looked shocked. Ethan watched his tongue whip over his bottom lip. “Do you have proof this man was responsible?”
“Yes,” Ethan said, lying cleanly.
Dr. Truitt looked at him for a long moment, then simply shook his head and looked away.
Ethan hardened his voice. “He does look helpless, doesn’t he? No threat at all. All right, Doctor, consider this an order—keep this man blinfolded, at all times; keep his hands tied down at all times. I’ll have deputies here around the clock to make sure that happens. All he needs is a single second to pull off the blindfold, and it’ll be over.” Ethan raised his finger, cocked it like a gun, pointed it at the doctor, and pulled the trigger. “He might kill you if he’s able, or make you murder someone else, a colleague or a nurse.”
Blessed moaned.
Dr. Truitt jumped, cursed himself for being so suggestible. Since he knew Ethan was watching him, he calmly took his patient’s pulse, raised blindfold even though Ethan was standing right beside him, and checked his pupils. “He’s still out of it. If there is anything to this hypnosis business, he can’t do much if he’s still unconscious. The surgery went well, and his wounds, both of them, should heal. With rest, he should be okay.”
“There’ll be a team of FBI physicians coming tomorrow, medical and psychiatric,” Ethan said. “If he’s well enough, they’ll begin testing him.”
“What sorts of tests?”
“I assume they’ll evaluate him, physically and mentally, to see if there’s a consensus on when he’s ready for transfer. I expect you and all hospital staff to cooperate fully with them.” He took Dr. Truitt’s arm, shook it lightly. “Listen to me, this man is more dangerous than you can imagine. I know now he looks about as dangerous as a tooth-less old dog, but he’s not, Doctor, he’s the most dangerous human being I’ve ever met in my life.”
Ethan could see Dr. Truitt still wavered. He knew if Joanna were here, she’d bitch-slap him. It made him smile. Dr. Truitt said, “As long as your FBI personnel are cleared by the chief of staff, I’ll cooperate with anything I think ethical. As long as this man is my patient, his welfare is my primary concern.”
Even though Ethan wanted to punch him out, this little speech was a start. He nodded. “Give me a call if there’s any change at all in his condition. My deputy Ox Cobin is going to stay in this room with him. And by the way, Ox is one of his victims. You want firsthand information, you ask Ox.”
“Ah, good timing, Ox. Come on in. Blessed is still out of it, but he moaned a couple minutes ago. You know what to do.”
Ox nodded as he brought in a huge easy chair with an adjustable footrest. “Nurse Lowery loaned me the big man’s chair. He’s on vacation in Croatia.”
Ethan smiled. “You’re feeling fine, right?”
“Yep, but I’ll tell you, Ethan, I’m hardly even going to look at that little man, even all tied down, even with a blindfold over those mad eyes of his.”
Dr. Truitt harrumphed, turned on his heel, and left the hospital room.
Ox watched his progress out of the room. He said thoughfully. “That’s going to be everyone’s reaction—doctors, lawyers, judges, laypeople—you know that, Ethan.”
“Yeah, I know, even though I told him about Blessed murdering our visitor from Alaska. And no, I didn’t try to tell him Blessed somehow whipped up a bear to savage his corpse. We’ve got Blessed on a dozen felony charges, even if the FBI forensic team doesn’t find anything definitive to tie Blessed to Mr. Spalding’s murder.”
“You know, Ox, I hate to say this, but truthfully, I don’t think even have a chance to get Blessed to the lawyer stage. I have this gut feeling it’s not going to be long before he walks out of this fine hospital, a load of stymied folk in his wake.”
“Let me kill him, Ethan, here and now, a pillow over his face; it’ll be over no time.” Ox sounded dead serious.
Ethan shook his head. “I wish we could, Ox, believe me. It’s a nice fantasy, but it’s no way for law officers to talk. The FBI people will be arriving soon, and they’re going to take him out of here, to Quantico.”
“He might be gone as soon as he’s out of pain,” Ox said. “Do you know Belle wouldn’t come near me when I got home from seeing Dr. Spitz on n Saturday night after Blessed stymied me? She sniffed and growled, danced around me like she was afraid of me, but at the same time wanted to attack me. Scared me to my boots. Took me a good hour to talk her down.”
“Now that’s interesting. I’ve got to remember to mention that to the FBI docs when they show up tomorrow.” Ethan paused, looked down at the thin, middle-aged man who didn’t look like he could even raise a single finger. “Keep your eyes on him, Ox.”
“You know I will, Ethan.” Ox settled himself into the easy chair, pressed the button to bring up the footrest, and grinned at his boss. “Now, I could get used to this. Why would the bigwig hospital guy go all the way to Croatia when he could stre
tch out in this Cadillac of a chair all day, drink a Bud?”
37
DR. HICKS, A TOP FBI forensic psychiatrist, was also an extremely competent hypnotist in his own right, and a huge Beatles fan. He didn’t wait for the rest of the FBI team, he arrived by himself that afternoon, his eyes bright with excitement, like a kid on Christmas morning, Ox thought. Dr. Hicks introduced himself and shook hands with Ox. Ox waved over at Blessed. “There he is, sir.”
Dr. Hicks turned immediately to look down at the motionless middle-aged man. He shook his head. “So this is Blessed Backman. An interesting name, don’t you think? He looks harmless enough. Talk to me,” he said, turning his formidable attention on Ox. “Tell me what this man did to you.”
Ox told him.”... I wasn’t there, you know, inside my own brain, at least not until the pain got me back into myself.” Ox jabbed his fingers through his flattop. “Sounds stupid and weird. You believe me?”
Dr. Hicks was frowning down at Blessed again. “Of course I believe you.”
He pinched the back of Blessed’s hand. Blessed didn’t react. Dr. Hicks lifted the blindfold, then his eyelids, stared at him a good minute, then said, “Hmmm. How long has he been like this?”
Savich said from the doorway, “I told Sherlock you’d be here, no way would you wait for the team. You didn’t even check in at the B-and-B or stop at the men’s room or eat a bagel, did you?”
Dr. Hicks gave Savich a really big smile. “I didn’t even eat an apple. I couldn’t wait to see this guy. Drs. Chambers and Bailey will be here tomorrow. I’ll tell you, the report you gave them had them flying at me with questions and speculation, not to mention a cargo bay full of disbelief. I left them with their heads together, plotting out what kinds of tests, what kind of restraints, to arrange for him at Quantico. We can get an MRI here to see if there’s a brain tumor. We can see if he can bend spoons, that sort of thing, later. I hope he comes out of it soon. I really want to talk to him.”
Savich nodded. “Come outside with me for a moment, Dr. Hicks.”
Once in the hallway, Savich looked at Sherlock, who nodded and and without preamble, “We appreciate your enthusiasm, Dr. Hicks; that’s one of the reasons we called you. But we’ve got a major security problem here until we get Blessed to Quantico. We need to keep him in this room while he’s here.”
Dr. Hicks said thoughtfully, “I can’t begin to imagine such power, to actually make someone willing to kill themselves. And you, Savich, you are immune to him. Life never ceases to amaze, does it?”
“You’re right about that,” Savich said. “I’m also going to set up a video camera in the room so we can monitor Blessed remotely. I sure hope it doesn’t happen, but it’s possible, given Dr. Truitt’s skeptical response to Blessed’s hypnotic ability, that we just might get a live demonstration if the hospital staff doesn’t believe us. If this does hap-pen, I just hope no one gets hurt.”
“Let’s have Dr. Truitt attend him,” Ethan said. “See what he does.”
Savich said to Ethan, “That would be justice. Ethan, you okay with this? If Blessed does try anything, there’ll be living proof on film. A defense lawyer could claim it was all staged, but we’ll worry about that when we need to.”
Dr. Hicks held up his hands, palms out. “Hey, wait, I want to speak to him first, listen to his voice, have him talk to me. I want to look into those eyes of his. Why can’t I do it? If he does anything to me, Ox here can smack me.”
Savich said, “Tell you what, sir. If he wakes up while you’re here, you can have a go at him. But his blindfold stays on. No more victims for him on my watch.”
Ethan said, “When you get that camera set up, Savich, I’ll see that Ox drags his chair out here into the hall.”
38
“IS ANYONE THERE? How can I know if anyone’s there if I can’t Yes, I’m here, Mr. Backman. I’m sorry about the blindfold. I’m your nurse, Cindy Maybeck. Do you need anything, sir?”
His voice sounded weak, querulous. “I need you to take off this ridiculous blindfold.”
“ I’m sorry, sir, but I was told to leave it in place, for my own pro-tection, not that I believe it, but I have to follow orders. Let me take your pulse, listen to your heart.”
Blessed felt her lift his wrist, place two fingers against the pulse, “It’s that hick sheriff; he’s torturing me because we had a disagreement. Here I’m old enough to be his daddy and he’s afraid of me. Isn’t that a kick? Listen, how would you like to lie in darkness, Nurse, with your hands strapped down? I can’t even scratch my nose. It’s inhu-mane, don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Backman. I was told—”
“I hurt; I hurt real bad.”
“Now, sir, you had a shot of morphine not an hour ago. Why don’t you try to sleep? Sleep will make you heal faster. You want me to scratch you anywhere?”
Blessed hissed out a moan but didn’t say anything more.
Cindy took his pulse. Nice and slow and regular. Then she put a cuff on his good arm and a stethoscope below it. He had good pressure, a little on the high side but nothing to merit alarm. She straightened, looked down at him. She said softly, “Don’t cry, Mr. Backman, you’re getting the blindfold wet.”
He sobbed.
“You’re going to make yourself all itchy if you don’t stop crying, Mr. Backman.”
“Just wipe my eyes for me, Nurse. Please. What can I do? My hands are tied down, I’m helpless.”
She held herself silent for a few seconds. She’d heard Dr. Truitt say all of these precautions were ridiculous; he was an old man, for God’s sake. But then the sheriff and the FBI agent had told everyone not to remove his blindfold and why. He could hypnotize someone instantly? She’d never heard of such a thing. She agreed with Dr. Truitt. This poor old man, shot twice, helpless as a foal—she said, “I really shouldn’t, I’d be disobeying orders. Oh, all right, but only for a moment. It’ll be our secret, all right? You promise you won’t tell anyone?”
His voice was liquid with tears. “I swear I won’t say anything, Nurse.”
Cindy eased the blindfold over the top of his head. She wiped away his tears. Real tears, she saw, and she knew Dr. Truitt was right. This poor man couldn’t do anything to anybody. She studied his pale face for a moment. No, surely he couldn’t—Blessed Backman opened his eyes and looked up at her.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “You’re quite pretty, all that blond hair. Is it real?”
“Yes,” Cindy said, “from my grandmother.”
“You’re a pretty, helpful girl. Unfasten the straps on my wrists.” He smiled up at her.
Cindy didn’t hesitate. She unfastened the straps and straightened to stand next to the bed, unmoving.
Blessed slowly eased onto his side, pressed his palm to his bandaged shoulder, and sat up. He winced, cursed softly. Cindy said, “Can I help you?”
He looked up at her and smiled again. “No, thank you, Nurse. That is much better. Now, I want you to bring my clothes.”
Cindy walked over to the patient’s closet that held his shirt, trousers, and shoes. She pulled them off the hangers. “I don’t see any underwear or socks,” she said.
“It’s all right. Bring them to me now.”
Cindy turned back with the clothes over her arm.
“I want you to go outside and talk to that guard, distract him; you’re pretty enough to turn the head of a dead man. Flirt with him, keep him busy until I call you. Then you can bring him in with you, all right?”
“All right.”
In the hospital room next door, Savich, Ethan, and Dr. Hicks were watching them. Savich said, “Well, that didn’t take long. Do you think Dr. Truitt will believe us now?”
“You said Dr. Truitt is a skeptic, Savich. He could say this was all performance.”
“Good, you sound just like a defense attorney,” Savich said, “We’ll play it out some more, until and unless he acts against the nurse, then we move fast.” But he didn’t want to. Savich watched C
indy Maybeck walk out of the room, knew she wasn’t really there in her own head. Still, letting this go on was a risk, but he prayed it was it was a manageable risk. He forced himself to set aside all his doubts and fears. He drew in a deep breath. They watched a middle-aged man, thin and scrawny, his shoulder and arm hugely bandaged, slowly swing his over the side of the bed.
“I can’t believe he can move around as well as he can,” Dr. Hicks said. “Maybe along with his abilities, he’s also able to influence his own body somewhat.” He shrugged. “Who knows?”
They watched Blessed Backman slowly stand up and strip off the puke-green hospital gown, wincing and weaving a bit. They watched him awkwardly pull on his pants, then stare at the shirt. There was no way he could get himself into it, not with his shoulder bandaged so thickly, not with the pain the movement would cause him.
Blessed called, “Nurse, come here, please.”
Cindy opened the door and came in. She never looked away from his face. He said, “I need you to help me into this shirt.”
She did. He swore the whole time. They could see the pallor, the beads of sweat on his forehead. “He’s in pain,” Dr. Hicks said, “but he’s still functioning. Amazing.”
Blessed asked Cindy, “Where are my shoes?”
“I left them in the closet.”
“Get them for me.”
She did. She went down on her knees and helped him into his shoes.
“All right. I want you to ask the deputy to come in here, tell I you’re concerned that I might be getting free and you want him to check on me.”
Cindy nodded and turned to leave the room.
“That’s it,” Ethan said, and he and Savich were out of the room in a second flat. “You will stay outside,” Savich told him. “No arguments.” Savich walked past Nurse Maybeck into the hospital room to see Blessed reaching for his watch on the side table.
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