Blood Work

16

TO THE UNINFORMED -and this included many cops and agents McCaleb had worked with over the years-hypnosis was often seen as a form of voodoo policework, a second-to-last resort just shy of consulting the local psychic. It was considered emblematic of a stalled or failed investigation. McCaleb firmly believed it was not. He believed it was a credible means of plumbing the depths of the mind. In the instances where he had seen or heard of it going wrong, it was usually at the fault of the hypnotist and not the science.

McCaleb had been surprised when Winston said she was in favor of reinterviewing Noone under hypnotic conditions. She had told him that hypnotism had been suggested a couple of times during the weekly homicide bureau meetings when the stalled Cordell investigation came up. But the suggestion had never been acted on for two reasons. The first was the important one. Hypnosis was a tool used often by police until the early eighties, when California ’s supreme court ruled that witnesses who had memories refreshed through hypnosis could not testify in criminal proceedings. This meant that every time investigators decided whether to use hypnotism on a witness, they had to weigh whether the possible gain from it was worth losing that person as a witness in court. The debate had stalled the use of hypnotism in the Cordell case, since Winston and her captain were reluctant to lose their only witness.

The second reason was that after the supreme court ruling, the Sheriff’s Department stopped training detectives in the use of hypnosis. Consequently, the more than fifteen years since the ruling had seen the natural attrition of the detectives who had the skill. There was no one left in the department who could hypnotize Noone, meaning that they would have to go to an outside hypnotherapist. That would further complicate things and cost money.

When McCaleb had told Winston that he had used hypnotism on bureau cases for more than ten years and would be willing to do it, she had brightened on the suggestion even more. A few hours later she’d had the session approved and set up.

McCaleb arrived at the homicide bureau at the Sheriff’s Star Center a half hour early. He told Lockridge that he would be a while and encouraged him to go get dinner.

His fever had been trimmed to less than a half a point during an afternoon nap. He felt rested and ready. He was excited by the prospect of digging a solid lead out of the mind of James Noone and accomplishing something that would drive the case forward.

Jaye Winston met him at the front counter and escorted him to the captain’s office, talking quickly all the way.

“I posted a wanted on Bolotov. Had a car go by his apartment but he was already gone. He’s split. You obviously hit a nerve.”

“Yeah, maybe when I called him a murderer.”

“I’m still not convinced but it’s the best thing we’ve got going at the moment. Typically, Arrango is not happy about what you did. I have to admit, I didn’t say we talked about this beforehand. He thinks you were cowboying.”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t care what he thinks.”

“Are you worried about Bolotov? You said he has your address.”

“No. He has the marina but not the boat. It’s a big place.”

She opened the door and allowed McCaleb to enter first. There were three men and a woman waiting in the cramped office. McCaleb recognized Arrango and Walters from the LAPD. Winston introduced him to Captain Al Hitchens and the woman, an artist named Donna de Groot. She would be available if needed to work up a composite drawing of the suspect, provided that Noone didn’t identify Bolotov outright.

“I’m glad you’re early,” Hitchens said. “Mr. Noone is already here. Maybe we can get this going.”

McCaleb nodded and looked at the others in the room. Arrango had the smirk of a nonbeliever on his face. A toothpick protruded a half inch from his tight lips.

“This is too many people,” McCaleb said. “Too much distraction. I need to get this guy relaxed. That won’t happen with an audience like this.”

“We’re not all going in,” Hitchens said. “I’d like you and Jaye to be in the room. You bring Donna in at the appropriate time. We’re going to videotape it and we have a monitor set up right here. The rest of us will watch from here. That okay with you?”

He pointed to a monitor on a cart in the corner. McCaleb looked at the screen and saw a man sitting at a table with his arms folded in front of him. It was Noone. Even though he was wearing a baseball hat, McCaleb recognized the man from the crime scene and ATM tapes.

“That’s fine.”

McCaleb looked at Winston.

“Did you make up a six-pack with Bolotov?”

“Yes. It’s on my desk. We’ll show it to him first, in case we get lucky. If he makes the ID there will be no hypnosis, so we can save him for court.”

McCaleb nodded.

“Woulda been real nice,” Arrango began, “if we had shown Noone the pictures before the bird was flushed.”

He looked at McCaleb. McCaleb thought of a response but decided to keep it to himself.

“Anything in particular you want me to ask him?” he asked instead.

Arrango looked at his partner and winked.

“Yeah, get us the license plate off that getaway vehicle. That’d be nice.”

He smiled brilliantly, the toothpick jutting upward from his lower lip. McCaleb smiled back.

“It’s been done before. The victim of a rapist once gave me a complete description of a tattoo on her attacker’s arm. Before hypnosis she hadn’t even remembered the tattoo.”

“Good, then do it again. Get us a plate. Get us a tattoo. Your pal Bolotov has enough of ’em.”

There had been a clear challenge in his voice. Arrango seemed to insist on putting everything on a personal level, as if McCaleb’s desire to bring a multiple killer in was in some way a show of disrespect to him. It was ludicrous but McCaleb had challenged him simply by entering the case.

“Okay, guys,” Hitchens said, cutting it off and trying to diffuse tensions. “We’re just taking a shot at this, that’s all. It’s worth the shot. Maybe we get something, maybe we don’t.”

“Meantime, we lose the guy in court,” Arrango said.

“What court?” McCaleb said. “You’re not going anywhere near court with what you guys have got. This is your last chance, Arrango. I’m your last chance.”

Arrango swiftly stood up. Not to challenge McCaleb physically but to underline his next words.

“Lookit, asshole, I don’t need some washed-out fed to tell me how to-”

“Okay, okay, that’s it,” Hitchens said, standing up also. “We’re gonna do this thing and do it right now. Jaye, why don’t you take Terry into the interview room and get started. The rest of us will wait here.”

Winston guided McCaleb out the door. He looked back over his shoulder at Arrango, whose face had turned dark with anger. Past him McCaleb noticed a quizzical smile on Donna de Groot’s face. She had apparently enjoyed the testosterone show.

As they walked through the squad room and past rows of empty desks, McCaleb shook his head with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he said. “I can’t believe I let him draw me into that.”

“It’s okay. Guy’s an asshole. It was going to happen sooner or later.”

After stopping by Winston’s desk to pick up the file containing the photo lineup, they went down a hallway and Winston stopped outside a closed door. She put her hand on the knob but looked back at McCaleb before turning it.

“Okay, any particular way you want to do this?”

“The main thing is that it works best if only I do the talking once the session begins and I communicate verbally only with him. That way he won’t get confused about who I am talking to. So if you and I need to communicate, we can either write notes or point to the door and we can come out here.”

“Fine. Are you all right? You look like shit.”

“I’m fine.”

She opened the door and James Noone looked up from table.

“Mr. Noone, this is Terry McCaleb, the hypnotism expert I told you about,” Winston said. “He used to work for the FBI. He’s going to see if he can’t work with you on this.”

McCaleb smiled and reached a hand across the table. They shook.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Noone. This shouldn’t take long and it should be a relaxing experience. Do you mind if I call you James?”

“No, James is fine.”

McCaleb looked around the room and at the table and chairs. The chairs were standard government issue, with a half inch of foam padding on the seats. He looked at Winston.

“Jaye, you think we can get a more comfortable chair for James? Something with arms maybe? Like the one Captain Hitchens was sitting in.”

“Sure. Hang on a minute.”

“Oh, also, I’m going to need a pair of scissors.”

Winston looked at him quizzically but left without a word. McCaleb took an appraising look around the room. There was an overhead bank of fluorescent lights in the ceiling. No other lighting. The glare from the overheads was magnified by the mirrored window on the left wall. He knew the video camera was set up on the other side of the glass, so he needed to keep Noone in a position facing it.

“Let’s see,” he said to Noone. “I need to get up on the table to get at those lights.”

“No problem.”

Using a chair as a stepladder, McCaleb climbed onto the table and reached up to the light panel. He moved slowly, trying to avoid another bout of vertigo. He opened the panel and began removing the long light tubes, handing them down to Noone and engaging him in small talk, hoping to make the witness feel comfortable with him.

“I hear you’re going to Vegas from here? Is that work or play?”

“Uh, work mostly.”

“What do you do?”

“Computer software. I’m designing a new accounting and security system for the El Rio. Still working out the bugs. We’ll be running tests for the next week or so.”

“A week in Las Vegas? Boy, I could lose a lot of money there in a week.”

“I don’t gamble.”

“That’s a good thing.”

He had taken out three of the four bulbs, dropping the room into a dim ambiance. He hoped that left enough light for the video. As he got off the table, Winston returned with a chair that actually looked like the one Hitchens had been sitting in.

“You took that from the captain?”

“Best chair in the place.”

“Good.”

He looked at the mirror and winked at the camera behind it. As he did this, he noticed the dark circles beginning to form under his eyes and quickly looked away.

Winston reached into the pocket of the blazer she wore and carefully eased out a pair of scissors. McCaleb took them and put them on the table and then pushed it against the wall below the mirror. He then took the captain’s chair and positioned it against the opposite wall. He put two chairs from the table facing the captain’s chair but split them apart far enough so as not to block the camera’s view of Noone. He directed Noone to the captain’s chair and then Winston and he took the remaining seats. McCaleb looked at his watch and noted that it was ten minutes before six.

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll try to do this quick and have you on your way, James. First off, any questions you have for us about what we’re trying to do here?”

Noone thought a moment before speaking.

“Well, I guess I don’t know much about it. What will happen to me?”

“Nothing will happen to you. All hypnosis really is is an altered state of consciousness. What we want you to do is go through some progressive stages of relaxation until you reach a point where you can easily move through the recesses of your mind to pull out some of the stored information. Kind of like turning through a Rolodex and pulling out the card you need.”

McCaleb waited but Noone asked nothing else.

“Why don’t we start with an exercise. I want you to tilt your head back slightly and look up. Try to roll your eyes upward as far as they can go. Maybe you should take off your glasses.”

Noone took off the glasses, folded them and put them in his pocket. He tilted his head back and rolled his eyes up. McCaleb studied him. He was able to roll them upward enough so that a quarter inch of white cornea was visible below each iris. This was a good indicator of receptivity to hypnosis.

“Okay, that’s good. Now, I want you to just relax if you can, take long, deep breaths and tell us what you can recall about the incident on the night of January twenty-second. Just recount what you now remember about what you saw.”

For the next ten minutes Noone told the story about coming upon the tail end of the shooting and robbery at the ATM in Lancaster. His story was no different than the versions he had recounted during various interviews since the night it had all happened. He added no new details that McCaleb picked up on and seemed to leave nothing out from his prior tellings. This was unusual and encouraging to McCaleb. The memories of most witnesses begin fading after two months. They forgot details. The fact that Noone seemed to remember every detail led McCaleb to hope the computer programmer’s recessed memory might be just as sharp. When Noone had finished recounting the event, McCaleb nodded to Winston, who then leaned toward Noone and handed him the six-pack file.

“James, I want you to open the file and look at the photos. Tell us if any of the men were the man you saw in the speeding car.”

Noone put his glasses back on and took the file but said, “I don’t know. I really didn’t get a-”

“I know,” Winston said. “But take a look.”

Noone opened the file. There was a piece of cardboard inside with squares cut out in two rows of three. In the squares were photos of men. Bolotov’s photo was the third on the top row. Noone stared at the six-pack, his eyes moving from photo to photo, and then shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t see him.”

“That’s fine,” McCaleb said quickly before Winston could say something that Noone might interpret as a negative. “I think we’re ready to go on, then.”

He took the file from Noone and tossed it onto the table.

“So why don’t you start by just telling us what you do to relax, James?” McCaleb asked.

Noone looked back at him blankly.

“You know, when are you happiest? When are you the most relaxed and at peace? Me, I like to work on my boat and go fishing. I don’t even care if I catch anything. I just like having a line in the water. How about you, James? You like shooting baskets, hitting golf balls? What?”

“Um, I don’t know. I guess I like being on the computer.”

“But that’s not relaxing mentally, James, is it? I’m not talking about something where you have to do a lot of thinking. I mean, what do you do when you want to let it all go. When you’re tired of thinking and you just want to go blank for a while.”

“Well… I don’t know. I like to go to the beach. There’s a place I know. I go there.”

“What’s it look like?”

“The sand down there is so white and it’s wide. You can rent horses and ride along the edge of the water below the cliffs. The water cuts under the cliffs and it’s like a hanging edge. People sit under there in the shade.”

“Okay, that’s good. That’s real good, James. Now, I want you to close your eyes, rest your arms in your lap and in your mind I want you to think about that spot. Picture in your mind that you are walking on that beach. Just relax and walk along the beach.”

McCaleb was silent for a half minute and simply watched Noone’s face. The skin around the corners of his closed eyes began to relax and McCaleb then led him through a set of sensory exercises in which he told him to concentrate on the feel of his socks on his feet, his hands on the fabric of his pants, the glasses on the bridge of his nose, even the hair-what was left of it-on his head.

After five minutes of this, McCaleb went on to muscle exercises, telling Noone to crunch his toes together as hard as possible, hold them that way and then release.

Slowly the focus of the exercises was moved up his body, eventually going to every muscle group. McCaleb then started again at the toes and moved back up. It was a method of exhausting the muscles and making the mind more susceptible to the suggestion of relaxation and rest. McCaleb noticed Noone’s breathing going deep and long. Things were going well. He looked at his watch and saw it was now six-thirty.

“Okay, James, now without opening your eyes, I want you to hold your left hand out and up in front of your face. Hold it about a foot from your face.”

Noone responded and McCaleb let him hold his arm up for a good minute, all the while counseling him to relax and keep his thoughts on the beach he was walking on.

“Okay, I now want you to very slowly bring your hand toward your face. Very slowly.”

Noone’s hand started to move toward his nose.

“Okay, slower now,” McCaleb said, his words slower and softer than before. “That’s it, James. Slowly. And when your hand touches your face you will be totally relaxed and at that point you will drop into a deep hypnotic state.”

He was silent then as he watched Noone’s hand move slowly forward until his palm stopped at his nose. At the moment of contact, his head dipped forward and his shoulders slumped. His hand dropped into his lap. McCaleb looked over at Winston. She raised her eyebrows and nodded at him. McCaleb knew they were only halfway there but things were looking good. He decided to run a little test.

“James, you are totally relaxed now, totally at rest. You are so relaxed that your arms are as light as feathers. They weigh nothing at all.”

He watched him but he didn’t move, which was good.

“Okay, now I’m going to take a balloon that’s full of helium and tie the string to your left hand. I’m tying it on now. There, the balloon is tied to your wrist, James, and I’m letting go of it.”

Immediately, Noone’s left arm began to rise until it was stretched upward, his hand up higher than his head. McCaleb just watched. And after half a minute Noone’s arm showed no indication of tiring.

“Okay, James, I have a pair of scissors and I’m going to cut the string.”

McCaleb reached back to the table and lifted the scissors. He opened them and closed them sharply on the imaginary string. Noone’s arm dropped back into his lap. McCaleb looked over at Winston and nodded.

“Okay, James, you are very relaxed and nothing is bothering you. I want you to picture in your mind that you’re walking on that beach and you come to a garden. The garden is green and lush and beautiful and there are flowers and birds singing. It is so beautiful and peaceful. You’ve never been in any spot as peaceful as this. Now… you walk through the garden and come to a small building with a set of doors. They’re elevator doors, James. They’re made of wood with gold trim around the edges and they’re beautiful. Everything here is beautiful.

“The doors open, James, and you step on the elevator because you know it takes you down to your special room. A room where nobody else can go. Only you can go down there and you are in total peace when you go there.”

McCaleb got up and stood in front of Noone, just a few feet away. Noone showed no outward sign of acknowledging the close presence of another person.

“The elevator buttons show you are on number ten and you have to go down to your room on number one. You push the button, James, and the elevator starts to go down. You are feeling more relaxed as each floor goes by.”

McCaleb raised his arm and held it parallel to the ground and a foot in front of Noone’s face. He then began raising it, bringing it back around and then up again. He knew the disturbance the motion would make in the light hitting Noone’s eyelids would add to his sense of descent.

“You’re going down, James. Deeper and deeper. That’s the ninth floor… now the eighth, and seven… You are getting deeper and deeper, more and more relaxed. The sixth floor just went by… now the fifth… four… three… two… and one… The doors open now and you step into your special room. You’re there, James, and in perfect peace.”

McCaleb went back to his chair. He then told Noone to enter his room and that the most comfortable chair in the world was waiting for him there. He told him to sit down and just melt into the chair. He told him to imagine a pat of butter melting in a frying pan on very low heat.

“No sizzle, just a slow, slow melting. That’s you, James. Just melting into your chair.”

He waited a few moments and then told Noone about the television that was sitting right in front of him. “You’ve got the remote control in your hand. And this is a special television with a special remote. You can watch whatever you want to on this TV. You can back the picture up, go forward, zoom in or pull back out. Whatever you want to do with it, you can do. Now, turn it on, James. And what we’re going to watch on that special TV right now is what you saw on the night of January twenty-second when you were going to the bank in Lancaster to get some money.”

He waited a beat.

“Turn the TV on, James. Is it on now?”

“Yes,” Noone said, his first words in a half hour.

“Okay, good. Now we’re going to go back to that night, James. Now tell us what you saw.”