Along Came A Spider

CHAPTER 50

HERE WAS A HIGH-PITCHED HUMMING in the air as

I climbed out of my car at the prison. The noise was a physical thing. Reporters from newspapers and TV stations were loitering everywhere outside Lor ton. They were waiting for me. So was Soneji/Murphy.

He had been moved to a regular cell in the prison.

As I walked from the parking lot in a light drizzle,

TV cameras and microphones jabbed at me from a dozen different angles. I was there to hypnotize Gary Soneji/

Murphy, and the press knew it. I was today's big bite of news. “Thomas Dunne says you're trying to get Soneji hos pitalized, that you'll have him set free in a couple of years. Any comment, Detective Cross?”

“I have nothing to say right now.” I couldn't talk to any of the reporters, which didn't make me real popular.

I'd made a deal with the attorney general's office before they finally agreed to the sessions.

Hypnosis is commonly used in psychiatry these days. Is often administered by the treating psychiatrist, or a psychologist. What I hoped to discover over several interviews was what had happened to Gary Soneji/Murphy during his “lost days,” his escapes from the real world. I didn't know whether this would happen quickly or, indeed, happen at all.

Once I was inside Gary's prison cell, the process was simple and straightforward. I suggested that he relax and close his eyes. Next, I asked Gary to breathe in, then out, very evenly and slowly. I told him to try to clear his mind of every thought. Finally, to count down slowly from one hundred.

He appeared to be a good subject for hypnosis. He didn't resist, and he slipped deeply into a suggestible state. As far as I could tell, he was under. I proceeded as if he were, anyway. I watched him for signs to the contrary, but I saw none.

His breathing had slowed noticeably. In the beginning of the session, he was more relaxed than I had seen him before. We chatted about casual, nonthreatening subjects for the first few moments. Since he had actually “come to” or become “himse@” in the parking lot of the McDonald's, I asked Gary about that once he was fully relaxed.

“Do you remember being arrested at a McDonald's in Wilkinsburg?”

There was a brief pause-then he said, “Oh, yes, of course I do.”

“I'm glad you remember, because I have a couple of questions about the circumstances at McDonald's. I'm a little unclear about the sequence of events. Do you remember anything you might have eaten inside the restaurant?”

I could see his eyes rolling behind the closed lids. He was thinking about it before answering. Gary had on thongs and his left foot was tapping rapidly.

“No... no... can't say that I do. Did I actually eat there? I don't remember. I'm not sure if I ate or not. ”

At least he didn't deny he'd been inside the McDonaid's. “Did you notice any people at the McDonald's?” I asked. “Do you remember any customers? A counter girl you might have spoken to?”

“Mmmm... It was crowded. No one in particular comes to mind. I recall thinking that some people dress so badly it's comical. You see it in any mall. All the time at places like HoJo's and McDonald's.”

In his mind, he was still inside the McDonald's. He'd come that far with me. Stay with me, Gary.

“Did you use the rest room?” I already knew that he had gone to the bathroom. Most of his actions were covered in the reports of the arrest.

“Yes, I used the rest room,” he answered.

“How about a beverage? Something to drink? Bring me along with you. Put yourself right there as much as you can.”

He smiled. “Please. Don't condescend.” He had cocked his head a little oddly. Then, Gary started to laugh. A peculiar laugh, deeper than usual. Strange, though not completely alarming. His voice pittems were becoming more rapid, and very clipped. His foot was tapping faster and faster.

“You're not smart enough to do this,” he said.

I was a little surprised by the change in his tone of voice. “To do what? Tell me what you're saying, Gary, I don't follow you.”

“To try and trick him. That's what I'm saying. You're bright, but not that bright.”

“Who am I trying to trick?”

4 'Soneji, of course. He's right there in the McDonald's. He's pretending to get coffee, but he's really pissed off. He's about to go nuclear. He needs attention now.

I sat forward in my chair. I hadn't expected this. “Why is he angry? Do you know why?” I asked.

“He's pissed because they got lucky. That's why.”

“Who got lucky?”

I “ne police. He's pissed because stupid people could luck out and ruin everything, screw up the master plan. ”

“I'd like to talk to him about it,” I said. I was trying to stay as matter-of-fact as he was. If Soneji were here now, maybe we could talk.

“No! No. You'ro not on a level with him. You wouldn't understand anything he has to say. You don't have a clue about Soneji. ”

“Is he still angry? Is he angry how? Being here in prison? What does Soneji think about being in this cell?”

“He says-fuck you. FUCK YOU!”

He lunged at me. He grabbed my shirt and tie, the front of my sport jacket.

He was physically strong, but go am 1. I let him hold, and I held on to him. We were in a powerful bear hug. Our heads came together and cracked. I could have broken free, but I didn't try. He wasn't really hurting me. it was more as if he were issuing a threat, drawing a line between us.

Campbell and his guards came rushing down the corridor. Soneji/Murphy let go of me and began throwing himself at the cell door. Spit ran from the side of his mouth. He began screaming. Cursing at the top of his voice.

The guards wrestled him onto the floor. They restrained him with difficulty. Soneji was much more powerful than his slender body would have suggested. I already knew that from experience.

The R.N. followed them in, and gave him a shot of Ativan. Within minutes, he was asleep on the floor of the cell.

The guards lifted him onto his cot and wrapped him in a restraining jacket. I waited until they locked him in the cell. Who was in the cell?

Gary Soneji?

Gary Murphy? Or both of them?