Mind Games

by Claude Bouchard

  ‘I UNDERSTAND HOW YOU FEEL, CHRIS. I FELT THE SAME WAY. I’M HAPPY AFTER MY THERAPY. YOU?’

  ‘SATISFIED IS MORE LIKE IT.’

  “It was his goddamn idea,” Bowman fumed. “And he’s saying the same crap he did in our sessions.”

  Randi glared at Bowman’s reflection in the screen for a moment and started to type.

  ‘DOCTOR SAMMY IS PISSED OFF AT YOU, CHRIS.’

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” screamed Bowman, staring at the words.

  “I’m being honest,” giggled Randi as a response began to appear.

  ‘TELL SAMMY TO TAKE A HIKE. IT’S YOU I’M SUPPOSED TO BE TALKING TO RIGHT NOW, NOT HIM.’

  “You heard the man, Sammy,” chided Randi, feeling he had found a friend in Chris. “Take a hike. Get outta here. Leave us alone.”

  “Very well. Lock the office when you leave,” Bowman stiffly responded after a moment and he was gone.

  ‘BOWMAN IS GONE, CHRIS.’

  ‘ARE YOU SURE? DON’T LIE TO ME, RANDI.’

  ‘I SWEAR. WE ARE ALONE.’

  ‘WHERE ARE THE OTHERS?’

  ‘WHO?’

  ‘MICHAEL, ALEX AND BOBBY.’

  ‘NOT HERE TONIGHT, CHRIS. HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THEM?’

  ‘BOWMAN TALKS SOMETIMES. YOU KNEW ABOUT ME. I WOULD LIKE TO MEET THEM ALSO. CAN YOU SET IT UP?’

  ‘NO PROBLEM, CHRIS. I CONTROL THEM.’

  ‘GOOD. CAN WE KEEP SAMMY OUT OF THE PICTURE? I DON’T TRUST HIM.’

  ‘SURE. I DON’T TRUST HIM EITHER.’

  ‘I DON’T BLAME YOU, RANDI. HE JUST PLAYS GAMES WITH OUR HEADS.’

  ‘YOU’RE RIGHT, CHRIS. THAT’S ALL SAMMY IS GOOD AT. MIND GAMES.’

  ‘CAN WE CHAT AGAIN TOMORROW? I LIKE TALKING TO YOU.’

  ‘ABSOLUTELY, CHRIS. I LIKE TALKING TO YOU TOO.’

  ‘WILL YOU BRING THE OTHERS?’

  ‘YES. I’M SURE THEY’LL WANT TO MEET YOU. I THINK YOU UNDERSTAND US.’

  ‘OF COURSE I DO, RANDI. WE’RE ALL THE SAME. WILL BOWMAN LET YOU USE HIS COMPUTER?’

  ‘NO PROBLEM. WE WON’T TELL HIM.’

  ‘GOOD. I’LL LOG ON TOMORROW NIGHT AT NINE. IS THAT OK?’

  ‘YES. WE’LL BE HERE.’

  ‘GREAT.’

  ‘I LIKE YOU, CHRIS. I WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER.’

  ‘ME TOO, RANDI. TALK TO YOU TOMORROW.’

  ‘BYE, CHRIS. PLEASURE MEETING YOU.’

  ‘THE PLEASURE WAS ALL MINE. LATER.’

  Chapter 23 - Thursday, June 19, 1997

  “Homicide, McCall,” Dave called out to the speaker phone as he valiantly attempted to bring order to the piles of paper overflowing his desk.

  “Good morning, Captain,” Chris’ voice cheerfully greeted him. “How the hell are you?”

  “The weekend approaches, my dear friend, and I’m off again. Life could not be grander.”

  “Super. Maybe I can whip your butt at a round of golf,” suggested Chris. “But that’s not what I was calling about. Guess who I talked to last night.”

  “Hang on a second,” said Dave warily as he picked up the receiver. “Who?”

  “Don’t you want to guess?” kidded Chris.

  “Sometimes I wonder how an asshole like you ever made it so big,” Dave pleasantly replied. “No, I don’t want to guess. Who?”

  “Randi.”

  “What?”

  “Ran-di.” Chris slowly repeated with a chuckle in his voice.

  “Jesus, Chris,” Dave scolded, lowering his voice. “Are you fucking nuts?”

  “Whoa, big fella,” Chris replied easily. “Stress is bad for your heart. Computer chat-line, Dave. Not face to face. And I contacted him. He doesn’t know who I am.”

  “So you’re not fucking nuts?” Dave questioned apologetically. “Do you have an address on him?”

  “Not specifically. I contacted him at Bowman’s office. The doctor let him use his computer.”

  “Am I to understand that you convinced Bowman to let you talk to this guy?” asked McCall, already certain of the answer.

  “But of course,” Chris proudly responded in his best French accent. “I was pissing Bowman off because I wouldn’t talk openly about the atrocious acts I’ve committed. I eventually suggested that maybe a therapy group with others like me might help loosen me up. He spoke to a few patients and voilà, I electronically met Randi last night.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Dave murmured, impressed.

  “That’s not all,” Chris continued. “Randi has confirmed that he knows the other three. In fact, he told me that he controls them. I’m meeting them tonight.”

  “On this chat-line, right?”

  “No, Captain,” Chris replied sarcastically. “Since there’ll be four killers this time, I figured I’d go meet them face to face, alone. Of course, on the chat-line.”

  “It’s just that you’ve got a wild streak that I didn’t know about, Barry,” Dave explained. “I know you’re bright and all but, even smart people do stupid things sometimes.”

  “You, my wife and my mother,” Chris laughed, “All cast from the same mould.”

  “Keep me posted, Mr. Barry,” McCall replied, ignoring his friend’s realistic comparison.

  “Captain, I promise you’ll be amongst the first to know. Later, bud.”

  * * * *

  Sam Bowman was no longer certain that the chat-line was such a good idea. Initially, he had believed that he would be coordinating the activity and that discussions taking place would feed him with additional information, allowing him to better help his patients. However, last night, both Chris and Randi had made it clear that his presence was not desired.

  Of course, he was to blame for this. He had lost control and become angry which, in turn, had led the two to ask him to leave. He could have argued, insisted on staying, but had felt that this might have resulted in the end of the chat-line before it even got off the ground.

  He hoped that Chris and the others would permit him to attend their next session but, at the present time, had no idea when that would be. He had questioned Randi on the subject who had smugly replied, “We’ll let you know in due time, Doctor.” He had then spoken to Chris, inviting him for a follow-up session that afternoon. His newest patient, although extremely cordial, had indicated that he saw no reason to accelerate their next visit. They were scheduled for the following Tuesday and that was when they would talk next. When Bowman had casually enquired about the previous evening’s conversation, Chris had, just as casually, informed the doctor that Randi seemed like a fine person and that they had gotten along quite well. He had added that he would be happy to chat with him again sometime in the near future but had left no indication of when that would be.

  Finally, to his disappointment, when the psychiatrist had examined his Eazy-Com files for a transcript of the conversation, he had found none. He was certain that he had activated the ‘save history’ function prior to Chris’ communication and had thus realized that his patients had decided that their discussion was to be private. Randi had deleted it.

  He would just have to wait for further events to unfold.

  * * * *

  “Are you sure this is safe?” Bobby nervously asked as he glanced around Bowman’s dimly lit office.

  Ever since his close call at TJ’s, he was a wreck whenever there was the slightest increase in tension.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Randi impatiently replied. “Look, if you don’t want to do this, get outta here. We’re not doing anything wrong and Chris is a great guy. You’ll see in a couple of minutes.”

  “Why did we have to come down here?” asked Alex curiously. “We could’ve used the computer at home. Why didn’t we just stay there?”

  “Chris knows where he’s contacting us; here in the Doc’s office,” Michael explained. “If we start having him contact us at the house, that could be dangerous. Here, we could be anybody. Sammy’s got a lot of patients.”

  The door-chime sound rang as Mi
chael finished speaking, drawing their attention to the computer screen.

  “Right on time,” murmured Randi as he clicked the knob on the virtual door.

  ‘ANYBODY HOME?’ appeared on the screen.

  ‘WHO’S THERE?’ Randi typed.

  ‘CHRIS. IS THAT YOU, RANDI?’

  ‘THE ONE AND ONLY. HOW ARE YOU?’

  ‘FINE, THANKS. YOURSELF?’

  ‘DOING GREAT.’

  ‘I’M HAPPY TO HEAR THAT, RANDI.’

  “He seems nice,” Bobby quietly commented, reading from the screen.

  “He is,” Randi confirmed as he continued typing.

  ‘I BROUGHT SOME FRIENDS, CHRIS. WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET THEM?’

  ‘ABSOLUTELY. I WAS HOPING THEY WOULD COME ALONG.’

  “Who’s first?” asked Randi of his peers.

  “I’ll go,” replied Michael, reaching for the keyboard.

  ‘HI, CHRIS. I’M MICHAEL. IT’S A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU.’

  ‘SAME HERE, MIKE. I’M GLAD TO KNOW I HAVE FRIENDS OUT THERE WITH SIMILAR TASTES. WHO ELSE IS THERE?’

  “My turn,” said Alex, coming forth.

  ‘MY NAME IS ALEX. RANDI SAID SOME NICE THINGS ABOUT YOU, CHRIS.’

  ‘THAT’S NICE TO HEAR. RANDI AND I GOT ALONG VERY WELL YESTERDAY. NICE TO MEET YOU, ALEX. I’M SURE WE’LL GET ALONG GREAT TOO. ANYBODY ELSE?’

  “Go on, Bobby,” ordered Randi. “Your turn.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Bobby whined uneasily.

  ‘HELLO???’ appeared on the monitor.

  “Come on, Bobby,” Michael urged encouragingly. “Just say your name.”

  Hesitantly, Bobby placed his fingers on the keyboard.

  ‘HI. I’M BOBBY.’

  ‘WELL, HELLO THERE BOBBY. I’M VERY HAPPY TO MEET YOU. HOW ARE YOU?’

  ‘OK, I GUESS.’

  ‘SEEMS LIKE YOU’RE DOWN IN THE DUMPS, BOBBY. ANYTHING I CAN DO TO HELP?’

  ‘NO THANK YOU, CHRIS. I’M FINE. REALLY.’

  ‘IF YOU SAY SO, BUDDY. JUST REMEMBER, CHRIS DOESN’T LIKE HIS FRIENDS, OLD OR NEW, TO BE DEPRESSED. ANYTIME YOU NEED CHEERING UP, I’LL BE THERE FOR YOU.’

  “H-he does seem nice,” Bobby whispered as he responded to his new friend.

  ‘THANKS, CHRIS. YOU SEEM LIKE A NICE PERSON.’

  ‘AND SO DO YOU, BOBBY. DON’T BE SAD, OK?’

  ‘OK, CHRIS. I WON’T.’

  “I like this guy,” commented Alex approvingly. “Let me talk to him for a minute.”

  ‘HI CHRIS. THIS IS ALEX AGAIN.’

  ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT, ALEX?’

  ‘BOWMAN AND RANDI SAID THAT YOU’VE KILLED PEOPLE.’

  ‘UNFORTUNATELY, SOME MUST GET WHAT THEY DESERVE. HAVE YOU KILLED ANYBODY, ALEX?’

  “Can I go on?” asked Alex hesitantly.

  “Sure. No problem,” encouraged Randi. “He’s one of us and, anyway, he doesn’t know who we are.”

  ‘THREE TIMES.’ Alex proudly typed. ‘ONE, A LONG TIME AGO WHEN I WAS A KID AND TWO OTHERS RECENTLY.’

  ‘HOW?’

  ‘ELECTROCUTED THE FIRST ONE IN HER BATHTUB. STABBED THE TWO OTHERS.’

  ‘YOU’RE VERY BRAVE, ALEX. NOT MANY WOULD HAVE THE COURAGE TO DO THAT.’

  ‘I WASN’T SURE IF I COULD KILL WITH A KNIFE BUT WHEN THAT BITCH PISSED ME OFF, I MADE A DECISION.’

  ‘WHICH BITCH, ALEX?’

  ‘THE ONE AT THE HOTEL DE LA MONTAGNE.’

  “Wait. What the fuck are you doing?” Randi screamed in alarm, too late.

  “What? What did I do?” Alex retorted, taken aback.

  “You’re giving him specifics, you asshole.”

  “You never said not to,” argued Alex, now worried. “You said this was safe.”

  “It is if we’re not stupid,” Randi replied hotly. “If you start naming places or dates, that can get us in trouble. Don’t you fucks understand anything?”

  He stared anxiously at the computer screen, waiting for Chris’ next message.

  ‘AS LONG AS YOU ARE COMFORTABLE WITH YOUR DECISION, ALEX, THAT’S WHAT’S IMPORTANT.’

  “I think we’ve done enough talking for one night,” announced Randi as he began to type.

  ‘CHRIS. THIS IS RANDI. I THINK IT’S BEST WE GO FOR NOW. I WANT TO TEACH MY FRIENDS A LITTLE MORE ABOUT WHAT WE SHOULD AND SHOULD NOT TALK ABOUT.’

  ‘I HEAR YOU LOUD AND CLEAR, RANDI, AND COULD NOT AGREE WITH YOU MORE. WE NEVER KNOW WHO MIGHT BE EAVESDROPPING.’

  ‘GLAD YOU UNDERSTAND.’

  ‘WHEN WILL WE TALK AGAIN, RANDI?’

  “Wait a minute,” murmured Randi, thinking. “Let’s try something.”

  ‘I’M NOT SURE. IS THERE ANYWAY WE CAN CONTACT YOU?’

  ‘YOU CAN REACH ME AT RAMB@EAZY.COM. IF I’M NOT THERE, LEAVE A MESSAGE.’

  ‘ALL RIGHT, CHRIS. WE’LL BE IN TOUCH. GOODNIGHT.’

  ‘LATER, RANDI. BYE, GUYS.’

  “There,” Randi proudly commented. “Now, if he ever turns out to be a son of a bitch, we can find him. Let’s go home so I can teach you shits the difference between intelligence and stupidity.”

  * * * *

  “What, may I ask is that address you just gave?” questioned Sandy of her husband.

  “An unlisted, actually theoretically non-existent address which has been specifically created for this case,” Chris replied with a grin “I set it up with a little help from Jonathan. When they call me, the signal will be relayed back and forth through a number of scrambling stations my current employer has positioned around the world before ending up here. Your best hacker couldn’t trace it. These guys don’t stand a chance.”

  “Quite sophisticated,” she nodded approvingly. “What does RAMB mean?

  “Randi, Alex, Michael, Bobby.”

  “Aren’t you clever, Mister Barry.”

  “The cleverest,” Chris modestly admitted.

  “Now that you’re done chatting with your new little buddies, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?” Sandy asked.

  “I don’t know. You?”

  “I’m going to bed,” she solemnly replied.

  “Already,” Chris exclaimed with surprise. “It’s only nine-thirty.”

  “I know,” his wife responded with a teasing smile. “You coming?”

  Chapter 24 - Saturday, June 21, 1997

  “Oh, I just remembered,” said Dave as they were loading their clubs onto the golf-cart. “I have to buy some balls.”

  “Maybe if you didn’t smack them into the water so much,” Chris teased in his usual manner.

  “Maybe, rather than buying new ones, I should go for a quick walk in the woods,” Dave shot back. “I should be able to find a couple dozen of yours, easy.”

  “Touché,” replied Chris as they entered the pro shop. “And the score is one to one.”

  Within minutes, Dave’s purchase was complete and both men were heading back to their cart, looking forward to a leisurely morning of golf and pleasantries.

  * * * *

  “Are you feeling OK, Doctor Bowman?” the pretty young clerk asked with concern. “You look kinda pale. My God! You’re shaking!”

  “I’ll be all right,” he reassured her, a tremor to his voice. “I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. I must just be hungry. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Maybe you should go to the clubhouse, sit down for a bit and have a bite to eat.” she suggested worriedly.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I should do,” replied Bowman, his strength rapidly coming back now that the initial shock had passed. “Thank you dear. Don’t worry, I’m fine now.”

  “Your colour’s coming back,” she encouraged. “Now, go on. Get something in that stomach of yours. We can’t have our new members falling all over the place.”

  He left the pro shop and headed towards the clubhouse with food being the furthest thing on his mind. He had, in fact, eaten breakfast before leaving the house. He was actually surprised that he had not lost his morning’s meal. Hunger was not the p
roblem. The problem was seeing Captain McCall about to play a round of golf with none other than Chris Barry, patient and founder of the chat-line.

  It was time for an extremely serious talk with the others.

  * * * *

  “So, did you get a chance to meet anyone else in cyberspace?” Dave casually asked as Chris prepared for his first tee off of the day.

  “McCall,” Chris growled with mock frustration, “You’re screwing with my concentration.”

  “And you, sir,” Dave chuckled, “Are screwing with my head.”

  “Sshh,” Chris hissed before driving his ball perfectly down the center of the fairway, some two hundred yards. “There we go. Your turn, David. Now, we can talk.”

  He fell silent while his friend teed off, also rather well, and resumed the conversation as they strolled back to their cart.

  “To answer your question, yes, I met the three others on Thursday night.”

  “And?” McCall anxiously asked.

  “And, not much yet,” Chris admitted. “Although Alex did mention something about a knife, a bitch and the Hotel de la Montagne. These are your guys, Dave. I just can’t legally prove it yet, nor tell you where to pick them up.”

  “Shit,” the cop muttered in frustration.

  “Give it a little time,” Chris encouraged as they reached the cart. “I’m staying in touch with these boys. They’re bound to tell me something useful sooner or later.”

  “You’re damn optimistic,” Dave doubtfully replied, hopping into the passenger seat. “You think Bowman’s gonna let them pour their hearts out to you?”

  “Bowman’s apparently not involved in this.”

  “Say what?”

  “The first time I spoke to Randi, Bowman was there,” Chris explained as he kicked the cart into gear. “It seems that the doctor was becoming agitated because I wasn’t openly confessing to my crimes yet. I suggested he take a hike and, according to Randi, he did.”

  “And you don’t think he was around on Thursday when you chatted with his band of merry killers?” asked McCall.

  “Not according to them. I should also mention that Bowman called me on Wednesday morning and was rather anxious to learn what Randi and I had discussed the previous evening. And he didn’t seem to know we had another chat scheduled for that night. I really don’t think he was there, Dave.”