Jezzie checked out the fridge, which was generously stocked. She put on a Bruce Springsteen tape, then she wandered outside.
I followed her down toward the shimmering, blueblack water. A new dock had been built on the water. A narrow walkway went out to a broader deck set up with bolted-down @hairs and a table. I could hear music from the Nebraska album playing.
Jezzie pulled off her boots, then her striped-blue knee socks. She dipped one foot in the perfectly still water.
Her long legs were wonderfully athletic. Her feet were long, too, nicely shaped, as beautiful as feet get. For the moment, she reminded me of ladies who went to the University of Florida, Miami, South Carolina, Vanderbilt. I hadn't found a part of her that wasn't special to look at.
“Believe it or not, this water's seventy-five degrees,” she said with a big slow-motion smile.
“On the dot?” I asked.
“I'd have to say so. On the button. Are you game, or are you lame?”
“What will the neighbors say? I didn't pack my bathing suit. Or anything else.” “That was the basic plan, no plan. Imagine - A whole Saturday with no plan. No trial. No press interviews. No missiles from the Dunnes. Like Thomas Dunne on Larry King this week. Complaining about the investigation leading up to the trial, peppering my name everywhere again. No earthshaking kidnapping case to weigh down on you. Just the two of us out here in the middle of nowhere. ”
“I like the sound of that,” I told Jezzie. “In the middle of nowhere. ” I looked around, following the line where the fir trees met clear blue sky. “That's our name for this place, then. In the Middle of Nowhere, North Carolina.”
“Seriously, Jez. What about the neighbors? We're in the Tarheel State, right? I don't want any tar on my heels. ”
She smiled. “There's nobody around for a couple of miles at least, Alex. No other houses, believe it or not. It's too early for anybody but the bass fishermen. ”
“I don't want to meet a couple of backwoods Tarheel bass fishermen, either.” I said. “In their eyes, I might be a black bass. I've read James Dickey's Deliverance. ”
“Fishermen all go to the south end of the lake. Trust me, Alex. Let me undress you. Make you a little more comfortable. ”We'll undress each other." I surrendered and gave myself over to her, to the slow-down pace of the perfect morning.
On the dock of the bay we undressed each other. The morning sun was toasty warm and I was aware of the lake breeze fanning our bare skin.
I tested the water with my foot, my own well-turned ankle. Jezzie wasn't exaggerating about the temperature. “I wouldn't lie to you. I never have yet,” she said with another smile.
She dived in perfectly, then, making almost no splash on the water surface.
I followed in the light trail of her bubbles. As I penetrated the underwater, I was thinking: a black man and a beautiful white woman swimming together.
In the middle South. In this Year of Our Lord, nineteen hundred and ninety-three. We were being reckless, and maybe just a little crazy. Were we wrong? Some people would say so, or at least think it. But why was that? Were we hurting anyone by being together?
The water was warm on top. But it was much colder five or six feet down. It looked blue-green. It was probably spring-fed. Near the bottom, I could feel strong undercurrents striking my chest and genitals.
A thought struck me hard: Could we Dealing deeply in love? Was that what I was feeling now? I came up for air.
“Did you touch bottom? You have to touch bottom the day's first dive.”
“Or what?” I asked Jezzie.
“Or you're a lily-livered chicken, and you'll drown or be lost forever in the deep woods before day's end. That's a true tale. I've seen it happen many, many times here in the Middle of Nowhere.”
We played like children in the lake. We'd both been working hard. Too hard-for almost a year of our lives.
There was a cedar ladder, the easy way back up onto the dock. The ladder was newly built. I could smell the freshness of the wood. There weren't any splinters yet. I wondered if Jezzie had built it herself-on her vacation-j ust before the kidnapping.
We held on to the ladder, and on to each other. Somewhere distant on the lake, ducks honked. It was a funny sound. There was little more than a ripple on the water table that stretched out before us. Tiny waves tickled under Jezzie's chin.
“I love you when you're like this. You get so vulnerable,” she said. “The real you starts to show up.”
“I feel like everything's been unreal for such a long time,” I said to Jezzie. “The kidnapping. The search -for Soneji. The trial in Washington.”
“This is the only thing that's real for the moment. Okay? I like being with you so.” Jezzie put her head on my chest.
“You like it so?”
“Yes. I like it so. See how uncomplicated it can be?” She gestured around at the picturesque lake, the deep ring of fir trees. “Don't you see? It's all so natural. It will be fine. I promise. No bass fishermen will ever come between us.”
Jezzie was right. For the first time in a very long time, I felt as if everything could work out-everything that might happen from now on. Things were as slow and uncomplicated and good as could be. Neither of us wanted the weekend to end.
Along Came A Spider
CHAPTER 61
M A HOMICIDE DETECTIVE with the Washington
Police Department. My official rank is divisional chief. Sometimes, I get assigned to violent crimes where there are psychological considerations that might -mean something to the case."
I stated this under oath inside a crowded, hushed, very electric Washington courtroom. It was Monday morning. The weekend seemed a million miles away Beads of perspiration started to roll across my scalp.
“Can you tell us why you are assigned cases with psychological implications?” Anthony Nathan asked me.
“I'm a psychologist as well as a detective. I had a private practice before I joined the D.C. police force,” I said. “Prior to that, I worked in agriculture. I was a fnigrant farrnworker for a year.”
“Your degree is from?” Nathan refused to be distracted from establishing me as an impressive-as-hell person.
“As you already know, Mr. Nathan, my doctorate is from Johns Hopkins.”
“One of the finest schools in the country, certainly this part of the country,” he said.
“Objection. That's Mr. Nathan's opinion.” Mary Warner made a fair legal point.
Judge Kaplan upheld the objection.
“You've also published articles in Psychiatric Archives, in the American Journal of Psychiatry. ” Nathan continued as if Ms. Warner and Judge Kaplan were inconsequential.
“I've written a few papers. It's really not such a big deal, Mr. Nathan. A lot of psychologists publish.”
“But not in the Journal and Archives, Dr. Cross. What was the subject of these learned articles?”
“I write about the criminal mind. I know enough three-and four-syllable words to qualify for the so-called learned journals. ”
“I admire your modesty, I honestly do. Tell me something, Dr. Cross. You've observed me these past few weeks. How would you describe my personality?”
“I'd need some private sessions for that, Mr. Nathan. I'm not sure if you could pay me enough for the therapy - ”
There was laughter throughout the courtroom. Even Judge Kaplan enjoyed a rare moment of mirth. “Hazard a guess,” Nathan continued. "I can take it.
He had a quick and very inventive mind. Anthony Nathan was highly creative. He had first established that I was my own witness, not an “expert” in his pocket.
-,'You're neurotic.“ I smiled. ”And probably devi,ous. "
Nathan faced the jury and turned his palms up. “At least he's honest. And if nothing else, I get a free shrink session this morning. ”
More laughter came from the jury box. This time, I got the feeling that some of the jurors were beginning to change their minds about Anthony Nathan, and maybe about h
is client as well.
They had intensely disliked him at first. Now they saw that he was engaging, and very, very bright. He was doing a professional, maybe even a brilliant, job for his client.
“How many sessions have you had with Gary Murphy?” he asked me now. Gary Murphy, not Soneji.
“We had fifteen sessions over a period of three and a half months.”
“Enough to form some opinions, I trust?”
“Psychiatry isn't that exact a science. I would like to have had more sessions. I do have some preliminary opinions. ”
“Which are?” Nathan asked me.
“Objection!” Mary Warner rose once again. She was a busy lady. “Detective Cross has just said he would need more sessions to form a final medical opinion.”
“Overruled,” Judge Kaplan said. “Detective Cross has also stated he has some preliminary opinions. I'd like to hear what those are.”
“Dr. Cross,” Nathan continued as if none of the interruptions had occurred, “unlike the other psychiatrists and psychologists who have seen Gary Murphy, you've been intimately involved in this case right from the start-both as a police officer and as a psychologist. ”
The prosecutor interrupted Nathan again. She was losing her patience. “Your Honor, does Mr. Nathan have a question to ask?”
“Do you, Mr. Nathan?” Anthony Nathan turned to Mary Warner and snapped his fingers at her. “A question?-no sweat. ” He turned back to me.
“As a police officer involved from the very beginning of this case, and as a trained psychologist, can you give us your professional opinion of Gary Murphy?”
I looked at Murphy/Soneji. He appeared to be Gary Murphy. At this moment, he looked like a sympathetic and decent man who was trapped in the worst possible nightmare that anyone could possibly imagine.
“My first feelings and honest impressions were very basic and human. The kidnapping by a teacher shocked and disturbed me,” I began my answer. “It was a profound breach of trust. It got much worse than that. I personally saw the tortured body of Michael Goldberg. It's something I will never forget. I have talked with Mr. and Mrs. Dunne about their little girl. I feel as if I know Maggie Rose Dunne. I also saw the murder victims at the Turner and Sanders houses.”
“Objection!” Mary Warner was on her feet again. “Objection! ”
“You know better than that. ” Judge Kaplan froze me with a very cold look. “Strike it from the record. The jury is instructed to disregard. There is no proof that the defendant is involved in any way with the events just mentioned.”
“You asked for an honest answer,” I said to Nathan. "You wanted to hear what I believe. That's what you're getting.
Nathan was nodding his head as he walked to the jury box. He turned back toward me.
“Fair enough, fair enough. I am sure we'll get absolute honesty from you, Dr. Cross. Whether I like that Honesty or not. Whether or not Gary Murphy likes it. You are an extremely honest man. I won't interrupt your honest opinion, so long as the prosecution doesn't. Please go on.”
“I wanted to catch the kidnapper so badly that it hurt. All of us on the Hostage Rescue Team did. It got very personal with most of us.”
“You actually hated the kidnapper. You wanted to see whoever it was punished to the maximum allowable by law?”
“I did. I still do,” I answered Nathan.
“When Gary Murphy was apprehended, you were there. He was charged with the crime. You then had several sessions with him. What do you believe right now about Gary Murphy?”
“I honestly don't know what to believe right now.”
Anthony Nathan didn't miss a beat. “Then there is reasonable doubt in your mind?”
Mary Warner was wearing a spot into the ancient floorboards of the courtroom. “Suggestive. Leading the witness ' ”
6 “ne jury will disregard,” said Judge Kaplan“Tell us what your feelings are at this moment about Gary Murphy. Give us a professional opinion, Dr. Cross,” said Nathan,
“There's no way yet for me to know if he is Gary Murphy-or Gary Soneji. I'm not sure if two personalities do exist in this man. I believe there is a chance he could be a split personality.”
“And if he were a split personality?”
“If that were true, Gary Murphy could have little or no conscious idea about the actions of Gary Soneji. He could also be a brilliant sociopath who's manipulating every one of us. You, too.” “Okay I can accept those parameters. So far, so good,” Nathan said. He had his hands in front of his chest as if he were holding a small ball. He was obviously working to get a tighter definition out of me.
“This concept of doubt seems pivotal, doesn't it?” he continued. “This is the whole ball game. I would therefore like you to help the jury make their important decision. Dr. Cross, I want you to hypnotize Gary Murphy!” he announced. “Here, in this courtroom. Let the jurors decide for themselves. And I have the fullest confidence in this jury and their decision. I have all the confidence in the world that when these people see all the evidence, they'll arrive at the right decision. Don't you, Dr. Cross?”
Along Came A Spider
CHAPTER 62
HE FOLLOWING MORNING two simple red-leather armchairs were brought in for the session between Gary and me. To help him get relaxed, more oblivious to his surroundings, the room's overhead lighting was dimmed. Both of us were miked. Those were the only extra touches allowed by Judge Kaplan.
An alternative to this would have been a videotape of our session, but Gary said he believed he could be hypnotized inside the courtroom. He wanted to try. His lawyer wanted him to try.
I had decided to conduct the hypnosis as if Soneji/ Murphy were in his cell. It was important to block out some of the obvious distractions inside the courtroom. I had no idea if this would work, or what the outcome might be. My stomach was in knots as I sat in one of the armchairs. I tried not to look out into the courtroom audience,. I didn't appreciate being on stage, but especially now. In the past, I'd used a simple verbally suggestive
336 technique with Gary. We began the courtroom hypnosis in that same way. Hypnosis isn't nearly as complex as most people think. “Gary,” I said, “I want you to sit back and try and relax and we'll see what happens.”
“I'll do the best I can,” he said, sounding as sincere as he looked. He was wearing a navy blue suit, crisp white shirt, striped rep tie. He looked more like a lawyer than his own lawyer.
"I'm going to hypnotize you again because your lawyer feels it may help your case. You've told me that you want that help. Is that correct. II
“Yes, it is,” Gary said. “I want to tell the truth... I want to know the truth myself.”
“All right, then, I'd like you to count backwards from one hundred. We've done this before. Feel yourself relaxing with each number. You can begin to count. ”
Gary Murphy began to count backwards.
“Your eyes are starting to close. You feel much more relaxed now... in a sleeping state... breathing deeply,” I said in a voice that got quieter and quieter, almost a monotone.
The courtroom was very nearly silent. The only sound was a thick, vibrating hum from the room's air conditioner. Gary finally stopped counting.
“Are you comfortable? Is everything okay?” I asked him.
His brown eyes were glassy and moist. He appeared to have slipped fairly easily into the trance. There was no way to be certain.
“Yes. I'm fine. I feel good.”
“If you want to stop the session, for any reason, you know the way back out of this.”
He nodded softly as he spoke. “ I do. I'm okay, though.” He seemed to be only half listening.
Under all the pressure and the circumstances of the trial, it didn't seem likely that he could be faking this.
I said, “At another time, in a past session, we talked about your waking up at the McDonald's. You told me that you 'woke as if you'd been dreaming.' Do you remember that?”
. “That's right. Sure I remember,” he sai
d. “I woke up in a police car outside McDonald's. I came to, and the police were there. They were arresting me.”
“How did you feel when the police arrested you?”
“I felt like it couldn't be happening. No way. It had to be a bad dream. I told them I was a salesman, told them where I lived in Delaware. Anything I could think of to show they had the wrong person. Not a criminal. I don't have any record with the police.”
I said, “We talked about the time just before you were. arrested. That day. When you went into the fastfood restaurant.”
“I don't... I'm not sure if I can remember. Let me try and think about it.... ” Gary appeared to be struggling a little. Was it an act? Or was he uncomfortable with the truth as he remembered it now?
Originally, I'd been surprised that he had revealed the Soneji persona in our prison session. I wondered if he would do it again. Especially under these difficult circumstances.
“You stopped to go to the bathroom inside the McDonald's restaurant. You also wanted some coffee, to keep you alert on your drive.”
“I remember... I remember a little of that. I can see myself at the McDonald's for sure. I remember being there....”
“Take your time. We have plenty of time, Gary.”
“Very crowded with people. The restaurant area was crowded, I mean. I went up to the bathroom door. Then I didn't go inside for some reason. I don't know why not. That's funny, but I don't remember.”
“What were you feeling then? When you remained outside the rest room. Do you remember how you felt?”
“Agitated. Getting worse. I could feel the blood pumping inside my head. I didn't understand why. I was upset, and I didn't know why.”
Soneji/Murphy was staring straight ahead. He was looking to the left of where I sat. I was a little surprised at how easy it was for me to forget the courtroom audience that was watching both of us.
“Was Soneji there in the restaurant?” I asked him.
He tilted his head slightly. The gesture was oddly touching.
“Soneji's in there. Yes, he's in the McDonald's. He became excited. ”Pretending to get coffee, but he -looks angry. He's, I think he's really mad. Soneji's a nut case, a bad seed."
Alex Cross 1 - Along Came A Spider Page 22