If Price emerged, should he take the shot? He studied the terrain. He could see 50 or 60 yards of the path; no one was on it. Across an open, grassy area, there was a seldom-used side street. It was empty. But even with no witnesses now, someone might appear at any moment. The risk of detection was too great.
The Experimenter waited a few minutes, then cautiously re-entered the wooded area. There was no sign of Price. He must have left from the direction he came. When the Experimenter reached the midpoint, he heard the footfall of a runner approaching from behind. He bent down, as if to tie a shoe lace. Stealing a glance, he saw a man, young, fit. He jogged past. The Experimenter stood and checked in both directions. No one. He raised the Taser and fired. The runner collapsed to the ground.
The Experimenter covered the gap between them in two strides, grabbed the man, and heaved him into the brush. He placed the cap on the runner’s head, then checked his surroundings. Still clear. He moved the man deeper into the woods, then attached the gag and restraints.
He stopped, listened. There were people on the path. After a few moments, however, they passed without a pause, without a word. He moved the runner still deeper into the woods. Finding the two trees he had located before, he attached the hand restraints to one, the feet bindings to the other. He took a GPS locator from a bag he had left here and slipped it into the man’s pocket. If he escaped somehow, the device’s location would alert him to that fact.
The Experimenter removed the cap. Consciousness returned to the runner. He tried to shout through the gag. He strained against the bindings, then started thrashing on the ground, using the few inches of motion the restraints allowed. But on the soft earth, his movements made even less noise than the plaintive whimpers that now came from his throat.
When the runner fell still from exhaustion, the Experimenter checked the restraints and gag one last time. There seemed no chance of escape unless someone happened upon him and that was unlikely. The Experimenter stood.
“Rest easy. I’ll be back for you tonight and then, we’ll begin a long journey together.”
A smile broke out across the Experimenter’s face as he made his way back to his van. True, Price had escaped this time, but his luck couldn’t last. In the end, all today meant was that Price would be Subject 6, rather than 5.
Or he’d be dead.
Wednesday, August 26, 9:23 AM
Noticing that it was nearly the time for our meeting, I grabbed a box of surveys and went to the conference room. For once, I arrived before the women and took a seat. It was only moments before I heard them talking and laughing as they approached.
“Morning, Doc,” Sue said as she entered.
“Hi, Sam. I hear we have some real data this time.” Nicole’s hazel eyes twinkled, as she pushed a strand of her light brown hair behind an ear.
“You look pretty happy about that,” added Sue, grinning at me. “And it must be the data that’s got you so upbeat, since we eliminated the other possibility yesterday.” Nicole shot Sue a confused look as the women took seats across from me.
“Just happy to have my two favorite ladies back on this job,” I said, not giving Sue a chance to continue. I already felt my face warming.
“Oh, Sam, I wanted to apologize again for interrupting your run this morning,” said Nicole. “I was just so surprised when I heard your message.”
“You caught Doc during a run?”
“Yeah,” replied Nicole. “We were working on proposal ideas yesterday, so I didn’t check my messages until this morning. Must have been around 7:00 when I called.”
Sue turned to me, giving one short, mocking laugh. “After all the lectures to us, don’t tell me you were out there before light?”
I opened my mouth to object, but Nicole was faster. “I know,” she said, now shaking her head. “He was. He even said he was in some park. I made him promise to at least get back on busy streets.”
I could see this conversation digressing into a critique-Sam session, so I held up a hand. “I admitted my mistake to Nicole and now to you, Sue. I was wrong. From now on, it’s sweating on a treadmill in a well-lighted gym with two-dozen of my closest friends.”
Sue didn’t answer, but turned to Nicole. “I don’t know how men survive without us.” Then, turning back to me. “It’s probably time we do some work.”
I chuckled. “I think that’s my line. Anyway, what I suggest for the division of labor is that Sue handles the observation reports. You can check the Beck inventory data later, but it will probably just tell us what we already know; he wasn’t particularly anxious because of the study. So, if there’s information about how the experience affected him, it’ll have to be in those reports. And Nicole, you can continue to analyze the specs, tell us what the device was doing electronically.”
Nicole nodded, as Sue said, “Sounds good to me.”
“For my part, I’ll work with the study data and bounce my initial findings off Sue.” I looked at Nicole and bit the inside of my lip, wondering if I should ask. “Do you have any interest in this part of the project?”
Nicole didn’t hesitate. “Sure. I won’t have anything to add, but I’d like to listen.” She glanced at Sue, then back at me and shrugged. “I’m curious how A.T. typing numbers into a computer can tell you anything about what he’s thinking.”
“Good for you, Nicole,” Sue said, nudging her with an elbow and winking. “That way, you’ll get to see Doc at his nerdy best.”
I guess some people would be offended by that remark, but Sue knew me better than that. And besides, it was true.
“Yep,” I said. “It’ll be interesting to see what secrets we can tease out of those data. I’m going to work in my office, if anyone needs me. Sue, you can break down the written reports here or take smaller piles of them back to your desk. Your call.”
“Here. My desk is too cluttered.” Sue’s idea of clutter was closer to most people’s idea of impeccable order, mine included, but I said nothing.
“Nicole, you have the same choice. But if you take anything back to your building, you’ll need to sign for it. Now that we have these files, we’re responsible for managing them.”
“Here’s fine. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”
“OK, it’s a plan,” I said. “Let’s get together at 2:00 and compare notes on progress. Anything else?”
There was. I could tell by the way Sue and Nicole looked at each other, although neither said a word for a moment. Then, Sue turned to me. “I have a name for you.”
I was expecting a joke – some nickname dripping with innuendo, probably sexual. What Sue said, however, was, “Atwood.”
I drew back and stared at her. “As in Dr. Sebastian Atwood?”
“Right. Or as in, A.T. Wood.”
I sat staring at Sue, my mouth hanging open for what seemed a minute, but was probably less than ten seconds. Finally, I managed, “You think Atwood is A.T.?”
“We have means, motive, and opportunity.” This was from Nicole, the investigative triumvirate becoming something of a punchline on our project. “He was involved, he has the knowledge, and apparently, according to the Internet, he has the money. He’s done well in material research for cutting-edge, medical devices.”
I shifted my gaze between the women, then blew out a long breath. “You think he wants to steal it?”
“Maybe not at first, but the Blocker is addictive,” said Sue. “Worthington passes his excitement about the work to Atwood during some of their initial meetings. He volunteers for the study. Worthington wants to save money….” She held out a hand like the inevitability of the situation was laying in her palm.
“And the description of the volunteer, the male student in Worthington’s paper?” I asked. “A cover for what they were doing?”
“Yeah,” said Sue. “If Worthington wanted some security on his project, this misdirection would provide it. A.T. may have been hiding in plain sight from the very start.”
I rubbed my forehead with a ha
nd, looking down at the tabletop. “OK,” I said when I looked up. “I’ll call Detective Ahern.”
“Not just yet,” said Nicole. “I’m meeting with Atwood first. See what I can find out.”
“No way,” I said.
The emotion that flashed across Nicole’s face was annoyance, if I read it correctly. I had overstepped my bounds. Before she could remind me that it was her life, I said, “What I mean is, I’m not comfortable with that. He’s a potential murderer.”
“It’s just dinner,” said Sue.
“Dinner?” I stood up, turned from them, walked the three steps to the wall, then turned back. “Is that supposed to be better?”
“You need to listen to what we have in mind,” said Sue, somewhat sharply. Clearly, I was outnumbered.
I wondered if Nicole was too irritated to speak because she just looked at me, her brows knitted. I took the three steps back to my chair and sat. “OK. I’m listening.”
“Nicole called Atwood to ask a few questions about the materials in the coils. He seemed anxious to meet and suggested dinner.”
“Of course, he….” Both women’s frowns deepened, so I closed my mouth.
“The idea that Atwood might be A.T. came up later. So, we thought she’d keep the date, because let’s face it, we really have nothing on him. But Nicole knows exactly what to look for – a cold, self-centered attitude. A dislike of art. And I’ll go along to make sure he behaves himself.”
“I’m going….” I stopped, reconsidering my words. “I’d like to go along too.”
“This is getting out of hand,” said Nicole, her displeasure clear on her face. “We need a setting where he feels free to talk, not something like Worthington’s office where he never said a word. Seeing the three of us staring at him from across the table?” She shook her head. “It won’t work.”
“How about Doc and I take a different table? Some place where we can watch the two of you from a distance. Then, you’re free to use your feminine charms on him.”
“Perfect,” Nicole said, much too quickly for me to question the plan. “But I’m not sure you’ll be able to find a table close enough.”
When she said where they were meeting, I understood. The dining area was composed of rows of booths. If you were more than two away, you’d see nothing. But it was also first-come, first-served seating. “You’re meeting him in that small, waiting area they have?”
“Right,” said Nicole.
“OK, what if I get someone to go with me early and we stake out two booths close together?” I said. “Then, the other person can leave when you and Atwood come in. I’ll sit with my back to the door, so he won’t see me when you pass by. OK?”
“Al can go with you,” said Sue. “He’s good at holding tables. He might even be something of an expert.”
Perhaps the bit of levity worked, as Nicole’s frown melted a bit. “OK,” she said eventually. “But it sounds like a lot of trouble for nothing. It’s a public restaurant.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But getting there and leaving are another matter. If he’s a killer, he’ll know exactly where you’ll be.” I looked at Nicole closely, holding both hands out in front of me. “Would it be all right if Sue rode to the restaurant with you? You can walk from the parking lot by yourself, with her trailing behind.”
Nicole hesitated, but Sue jumped in. “I hate to admit it, but Doc’s right. You and I can leave from work together.”
Nicole released a long sigh, then nodded. “OK. But after this Mata Hari act is over, we should talk. You know, not wait a day to tell you he’s got a bullet with your name on it. Someone can follow me to my car after dinner, but then I’ll drive in a loop and come back to the restaurant.”
The plan was getting complex, but if we did it right, someone would always have Nicole in sight except when she came back. “OK,” I said. “Sue will watch you from your car to the restaurant. I’ll cover when you go back to your car after dinner. Just make sure no one is following when you loop back to join us.”
“I will,” said Nicole.
Sue looked up from her phone. “I just texted Al. He’s in.”
“That was fast,” I said.
“He’s been off work a few days. Some big remodeling project. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it over dinner, because he’s been driving me crazy, telling me how bored he is.”
I nodded, then asked, “So, when is this dinner with Atwood?”
“Tonight,” said Sue.
“Tonight?” The unease I felt when the women first announced their intentions came rushing back. But there was little I could do other than tackle the problems over which I had some control. I excused myself and went to my office to get started on the study data…if I could keep my mind on my work.
Wednesday, August 26, 2:09 PM
I walked quickly down the hall toward the conference room, already ten minutes late for our meeting. As I approached, I heard Sue and Nicole talking, then a few titters.
As I came through the door, Sue said, “See, I told you Doc wouldn’t forget about us.” Nicole raised a hand to her lips, but the amusement in her eyes said there was a smile hidden there.
“Yeah, sorry, ladies. I got involved with the numbers and lost track of time.”
“I told Nicole you’d say that. Some women lose their husbands to sports. Your wife will lose you to a spreadsheet.”
“Sports are good too,” I said, striking my most thoughtful pose. “I could study sports statistics all day.” I received the response I expected when both groaned.
“Sorry. But seriously, when you see what I’m finding, you’ll forgive me.” I looked at Sue and Nicole. “Any volunteers to go first?”
“Yeah, you,” said Sue. “You can’t say something like that and expect us to wait.”
“OK.” I went to the conference room’s computer, brought up the graph from the paper Worthington had given us, and projected it on the screen at the front of the room. “You probably remember this – A.T.’s memory span over the course of the study?”
It looked a bit like stair steps. Initially, A.T. had been able to remember a little over seven items, and that didn’t change much in the first few weeks working with the Blocker. Then, his rate of recall shot up to around 14 or 15 items. After that, the line was flat for several more weeks, then there was a second spurt to about 21 items. A.T. had quit shortly after that last surge.
“Of course,” said Sue. “Since he started around average, the question is, what did he do that allowed him to increase his recall from 7 to 14 items? And then again, from 14 to 21?”
“Exactly,” I replied. “So now, time to use what we can see in A.T.’s behavior and infer what we can’t see inside his head. You’re familiar with silent rehearsal?” I asked, looking at Nicole.
“It’s come up a few times in conversations and….” Nicole paused, looking at me closely. “Is this a trick question, because I thought it means exactly what it says. Using your inner voice to practice something so you remember it.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I guess the name’s not all that mysterious, is it? But what’s important is that there’s a characteristic pattern that goes with silent rehearsal, and it makes perfect sense when you think about it.
“So, if the first number someone is trying to remember is three, that person would say ‘three’ to himself. If the second number is six, he’d say ‘three six’. If the third number is four, he’d say ‘three six four.’ And so on. By the time a list of seven or eight numbers has been presented, the person would have repeated the first few several times. So, when he’s asked to recall, he would produce them very quickly and very accurately. Then, speed and accuracy go down, as he tries to remember items he’s reviewed fewer times. Finally, the last item or two tend to be recalled well because they’re recent.
“So, the pattern you typically get with silent rehearsal is fast and accurate, then slower with more errors, and finally, fast and accurate again. Basically, it’s a V-shaped function. Make sen
se?”
“It does,” replied Nicole. “It even seems obvious, now that you explain it.”
“Good,” I replied. “And here’s the graph of A.T.’s accuracy when he was recalling about seven items, early in the study.”
The characteristic V was apparent when the figure appeared, and both women nodded – Nicole from her new-found understanding and Sue because she would have seen dozens of figures like this one before.
“OK, good so far,” I replied. “So, when A.T. reaches 14 items, his accuracy looks like this.” I brought up the next chart.
Both women leaned forward, their eyes narrowing as they probed the graph for meaning.
“Oh, my god,” said Sue, her hand coming to her throat. “It looks like he has two voices in his head, each doing their own silent rehearsal. He recalls the items from one producing a V-shaped line, then the numbers from the second, making a second V. We end up with this W-shaped graph.” She paused. “Is that really possible?”
“It fits, but this is just the accuracy data halfway through the study. Let’s see what we get later and with other measures.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Jack Gilbert slowly collapsed to the mat covering the floor, the smell of bleach and industrial cleaner on its surface bringing tears to his eyes. He hoped he was doing it right, but he’d never seen himself pass out from the knock-out drug the man gave him. He only knew he did because soon after eating or drinking, he’d wake up, lashed to a chair, ready for another round of torture.
But not this time.
This time, Jack had dumped his drink down the toilet. Of course, he couldn’t be certain his tormentor, an individual who called himself the Experimenter, had put the drug there. Nor could he be sure he hadn’t been seen disposing of it. And if he was, the Experimenter would simply use the Taser. He was taking a chance, but what did he have to lose?
Of Half a Mind Page 22
