Driven Page 12

  “You are hearing my voice and answering in your mind, but you will also answer with your voice. If you understand, say yes.”

  “Yes,” she said after a brief pause, moving only her mouth, the golden metronome reflecting in her blue eyes.

  Katz nodded in relief. “What is your name?”

  “Karianne.”

  “And your last name?”

  “Stordal.”

  “Very good. And where were you born?”

  “Fagernes, Norway.”

  “Where do you live now, Karianne?”

  “Long Beach.”

  “You’re doing excellently. All your answers are correct and they will always be correct. Now, raise your left arm over your head and do not put it down until I tell you. Your arm is as light as a feather. You will not get tired of holding it up.”

  Karianne raised her left arm over her head like a child asking to be excused. Gavin frowned, wondering what the purpose of this exercise was. In his peripheral vision he noticed the door open and close. It was Amy. She came quietly in and sat on the unoccupied bed. Katz shot Gavin a look and he motioned for the doctor to re-focus on his patient. Amy smiled at Gavin and discretely gave him a thumbs-up. She apparently had information.

  Katz studied his subject. Gavin wondered just what it was he was looking for.

  “I want you to keep beat with the timer with your right index finger. Every beat represents a moment in time. But time is no longer marching on. It’s ticking backward; with each beat time is regressing. You are going with it. Your mind will be alert and you will be able to report what you see. Go back. Back to the last flight you were on.”

  Karianne remained transfixed on the metronome. Her eyelids began blinking, slowly at first, then faster, until they were fluttering.

  Katz nodded silently in approval. “Where are you?”

  “In first class,” she said, her voice lower and slower than usual, her arm still in the air.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m talking to Norman Sorenson.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Yes. He’s the kicker for the Giants football team. He’s cute. I’m thanking him for the football ticket he gave me. I’ll see him after the game,” she said, smiling. Suddenly her expression changed. “Uh-oh.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Another bump. A big one. Clear-air turbulence. The seat belt light just went on. The captain announced— Oohhh! That hurt.”

  “What happened.”

  “The plane— Oohhh! I wish it would stop. I’m afraid.”

  Katz frowned. “Are the other flight attendants afraid?”

  “No.”

  “But you’re afraid?

  “Yes.”

  “Have you always been afraid of flying?”

  “Not afraid of flying. Afraid of crashing.”

  “You think the plane will crash?”

  “No. Car crash. Like last time.”

  Katz frowned, but before he could say anything else Gavin motioned him over.

  “She had another crash about five years ago in Norway,” Gavin whispered in Katz’s ear. “It was very similar and we have reason to believe it may have been caused by the same driver, but I didn’t know she’d had a rough flight then, too.”

  Katz nodded, massaging his chin, then returned to the foot of the bed. “Karianne, you’ve left the plane and now you’re in the Seahorse Tavern. Are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is anyone with you?”

  “No,” she said. “Just me.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Karianne didn’t answer. Her hand was still in the air and her eyes were still fluttering, but she remained silent.

  “Why don’t you answer?” Katz finally asked. “Are you afraid?”

  Karianne shook her head.

  “Are you doing something wrong?”

  A pause, then a nod.

  “You’re ashamed because you’re drinking?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  “Too much. The bartender won’t let me have any more. I gave him my football ticket, but he didn’t take it.”

  “Then you left?”

  “No. A man told him to give me more.”

  Gavin reflexively sat up, then looked at Katz, repeatedly pointing his finger toward Karianne as if to say, That’s him! Katz nodded and motioned for Gavin to settle down. “What did he look like?”

  “Big. Strong.”

  “Were you afraid?”

  “No. We drank. I wanted to be with him. Go with him,” she said. Suddenly her hand began to lower, then raise again.

  Katz frowned. “What’s happening?”

  “I feel strange.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m leaving, but I’m staying.”

  Gavin shook his head and waved to Katz. “What’s his name?” he mouthed.

  Katz nodded and looked back at Karianne. “Did he tell you his name?”

  She frowned, then smiled, then frowned again. Her head was rocking slowly, as if her neck was stiff. Then her eyes stopped fluttering and instead blinked slowly. The smile came back. “Of course,” she said finally, curiously smug.

  Katz looked at Gavin, then back at Karianne. “What did he tell you his name was?”

  Again she paused with an arrogant smirk. “Who wants to know?”

  “I do!” Gavin blurted angrily. Katz immediately drilled him with a hot glare. He could feel warm blood flushing out his neck. Who did she think she was and why was she suddenly asking the questions?

  Katz exhaled deeply. “You are feeling very relaxed. You do not need to ask questions. All your answers will be correct. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said, with a hint of mocking that left Katz frowning.

  “What was the name of the big man at the Seahorse Tavern?”

  “Krogan,” she said matter-of-factly, her voice more in control.

  Gavin wrote the name down and saw Amy do the same. Strange name, he thought. Chris whispered something to Amy and she immediately got up with the paper she had just written on and left the room. Chris then brought his right hand to his ear to indicate to Gavin she had gone to give the door guard the name to call in. Amy reappeared through the door. She hopped back on the bed and whispered back to Chris.

  “That’s all? Just Krogan?” Katz asked.

  She laughed. “Krogan is enough.”

  Katz looked at Gavin and shrugged his shoulders, then looked back at Karianne. “Then what happened?”

  She laughed again, loudly. “Shadahd,” she said with feeling, as if the word tasted good to her.

  “What is shadahd?” Katz said.

  “Shadahd is shadahd,” she said with authority.

  Amy’s eyes were wide, obviously disturbed by what she was hearing.

  “You were involved in an accident, Karianne. Do you remember?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was Krogan driving?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where did he go after the crash?”

  “Gone. Later”

  “When is later?”

  “Shadahd,” she said again with obvious satisfaction.

  Gavin wrote something quickly and handed Katz a note. The doctor read the note, nodded, then focused his attention back on Karianne.

  “Were you ever involved in a crash with Krogan before?” he asked, bracing both hands on the bed.

  “Yes,” she said.

  Katz looked at Gavin and smiled.

  “I want you to go back to that first crash with Krogan,” Katz said.

  “The first crash… with Krogan,” she repeated slowly.

  “Yes,” Katz said.

  Karianne gave what appeared to be a sigh of satisfaction, stretching her neck back comfortably.

  “Are you there?” Katz asked.

  “Ken,” she said.

  “Ken? Who’s Ken?” Katz asked.

  “Ken. Rishon maaratsah, Krogan.”


  Katz stood upright. He appeared astonished.

  Amy wrote the words down in her book.

  Katz seemed like he was going to ask another question, but stopped, apparently thinking better of it. He went over to Gavin and leaned toward his ear. “She answered me in Hebrew. Ken means “yes” in Hebrew.

  “Hebrew? Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. My parents were very religious. I was taught it as a child and have heard it spoken my whole life. I’m not familiar with the specific dialect she spoke, but it was definitely Hebrew.”

  “Why is she speaking in Hebrew?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she’s dreaming.”

  “In Hebrew?”

  Katz shrugged.

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “We don’t have time for dreams, Doc. Can you get her back on track?”

  “I’ll try, but it’s possible all we’re asking is too much for just one interview. The brain, like anything else, needs training in order to perform well. We could push, but if we want accurate data, a little rest between sessions might be necessary.”

  More sessions? Gavin thought.

  Katz paced slightly, lifting an eyebrow in Karianne’s direction several times. She still had her hand in the air, presumably indicating she was still under the hypnosis. She wore a curious, almost mischievous, grin.

  Katz leaned back over the bed. “Are you still at the first crash?”

  “Ken.”

  “Where did Krogan go?”

  “Acharon. Shadahd.”

  Katz frowned, then looked at Gavin and shrugged again, while Amy took more notes.

  Gavin dragged the side of his index finger across his throat. Katz nodded in agreement.

  “I want you to come back to this time, Karianne. Back to the hospital.”

  The smile that lingered on her face faded and her eyes began to flutter again.

  “When I clap my hands three times you will awake rested, unafraid, and able to remember everything you have seen and said. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Katz clapped three times and Karianne opened her eyes.

  “How do you feel?” Katz asked.

  “Confused. Like I just had the strangest dream of my life. Only I’m not sure it was a dream,” she said.

  Katz smiled at her. “You did fine,” he said.

  “I did fine? I don’t feel like I did anything. I felt like a spectator, at least for most of it. I heard you asked questions I didn’t know the answers to, and then I heard myself answer them.”

  “At what point was that?” Katz asked.

  “When you asked me the killer’s name. I didn’t know it, but then I did. It became like a strange dream. I was seeing faces and places I’ve never seen before,” she said, her eyes welling up with tears.

  “Now, now. What you experienced was perfectly normal,” Katz said, reassuringly. “You simply entered your subconscious. That’s why it seemed dreamlike. In fact, it’s quite possible some of what you experienced was a dream state. You were in and out of rapid eye movement.”

  “But it all seemed so real,” she said.

  “Well, hopefully some of it was,” Chris interjected. “You gave us a name, and that’s primarily what we’re after.”

  Katz nodded in agreement. “Yes. But it’s possible there is much more than simply a name within our grasp. You revealed a previous encounter with this man and probably know much more about him than you think.” He motioned for the envelope on Chris’s lap.

  “Do you remember now the face of the man you called Krogan?”

  “I think so,” she said.

  Katz pulled the sketch from the envelope and dangled it before her. “Is this him?”

  Karianne gasped reflexively. “That’s him,” she said, shaking her finger at the picture. “That’s the man I saw in my dream. I mean my mind. I mean… oh, I don’t know what I mean.”

  So much for the suggestion Katz had given her that she wouldn’t be troubled, Gavin thought.

  “Why did she answer some of the questions in another language?” Amy asked.

  Katz smiled knowingly. “The mind is a fascinating thing. She probably entered a semi-dream state and allowed my questions to merge with her knowledge of Hebrew.”

  “Hebrew? I don’t have a knowledge of Hebrew,” Karianne said.

  Katz frowned. “But you must. Maybe not a direct knowledge, but some connection must exist. Maybe through the airlines or a childhood friend long forgotten.”

  Karianne shook her head. “None. I speak Norwegian, English, a little German, but definitely not Hebrew.”

  “How about ancient Hebrew?” Amy said.

  “Ancient Hebrew?” Katz said as all heads turned toward Amy.

  “Yes. I’m sorry I was late, but today’s research took a little digging. As it turns out, shadahd is a verb—an extinct form of another ancient word that means… ,” she held up her notebook, “to ruin, destroy, deal violently with, devastate, despoil, wreck, waste.” She put down the notebook and scanned the silent room.

  Gavin remembered Karianne grinning eerily after speaking the ancient word. Were she and this Krogan character part of some secret satanist cult that got off on senseless destruction? Was that why she was so conveniently forgetful while conscious, afraid her own life would be in peril if she exposed the members? But why hadn’t she recognized the guy when she first saw him at the bar? Was the cult large enough and secret enough that its own members didn’t know each other without this ancient password? If so, why had she not recognized the password until she’d had more to drink?

  “What do you mean by extinct?” Katz asked. “Most of ancient Hebrew is only a read language, studied by theologians and historians, unused in normal conversation.”

  Amy nodded. “Let’s put it this way. If the word were any older, no record would exist. It was already out of use before Moses, possibly Abraham. According to my research, there are some who believe the roots of Hebrew contain the planet’s first language. For all I know, its origin could date back to, I don’t know, the Garden of Eden, if there was such a place.”

  With the exception of Dr. Fagan, who was grinning sarcastically and shaking his head, all expressions were blank. Fagan, who had been so quiet he could have been mistaken for a lamp, uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “You know, it wasn’t bad enough you had to jeopardize the woman’s physical recuperation. Now you set her brain on end with crazy conjecture so obviously irrelevant to your case that all it can do is heap fear onto an already steep pile of confusion.”

  Even knowing Fagan might be correct, Gavin still had to suppress a retort. Obtaining evidence and connecting data was not an exact science; the road to truth was rarely the straight and narrow in the homicide department. Still, Gavin had to admit they were about as far out on a limb as he had ever been. He knew Amy meant well, but did she have to mention the Garden of Eden? She might as well have mentioned Atlantis or Asgard as far as Fagan or Katz were concerned—to those two, any of the above was indicative of a myth.

  Amy caught Gavin’s attention and motioned she was going to visit her sister. Gavin nodded.

  “I can appreciate your concern, Doctor,” Katz was saying, “but I believe we are on the brink of something substantial. What we need is another session after Karianne has some rest. I would suggest tomorrow at the latest, if that’s all right with you, Karianne.”

  “The sooner the better, as far as I’m concerned,” she said, appearing ready for the session to take place immediately. “How can I rest knowing I’m connected to that… beast?” She hitched her chin toward the police sketch of Krogan.

  Gavin, too, was anxious to press on. He looked at Katz. The man was deep in thought. The fact the man had shown more than a little surprise several times during the session had Gavin concerned they were stretching past the psychologist’s boundaries of experience. He hoped he had the right man for the job.

  20

  Gavin called headquarters only to find they had no record anyw
here of anyone named Krogan, either as a first name or a last. He decided to check on Amy and Amber. When he walked into the room, Amy was on her knees crying at the side of her sister’s bed, her forehead against the mattress as she held her sister’s limp hand. She had apparently not heard Gavin enter. He started to leave her to her grief, but hesitated. Watching her made him want to take the sketch he held and blow it to pieces at the shooting range, shot after careful shot. But, no, he needed it—he planned to advertise Krogan’s face throughout the metro area like a politician on Election Day. Someone out there had to be able to connect the face with the name. And Gavin knew Gasman would jump at the opportunity to print that name… right over the sketch.

  “Amber, Amber,”Amy was crying over and over. She looked into her sister’s face—peaceful, beautiful, asleep. “You need to wake up. I need you to come back.”

  Again Gavin thought of leaving. He’d never seen Amy so weak and vulnerable. Maybe she needed him. Maybe she wouldn’t want him there. After a moment’s struggle, he walked over and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. She startled, but when their eyes met she relaxed and put her hand over his. Gavin couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so comforted by his presence. He felt privileged… wanted.

  “I love her, Gavin. She’s part of me.”

  “I know,” he said quietly, softly squeezing her shoulder.

  “Have you heard from Reverend Buchanan yet?”

  “As a matter of fact, I haven’t. I need to check the machine. Either way, I’ll call again,” he said.

  Amy leaned over and kissed her sister on her cheek, then spoke a few words in Japanese to her. After giving Amber a final kiss she stood up and turned to Gavin, her wet, green eyes blazing. “I want Krogan. I want that animal.”

  “We’ll have him soon,” he said. “But the line forms behind me.”

  THE RECEPTIONIST at The Daily Post put down the phone and looked up with a smile at Gavin, then at Amy, who was standing next to him. She appeared to be in her early twenties, with short, straight hair that showed her black roots. Her perfume could overpower Lysol.

  “Can I help you?” she said, her overly made-up eyes remaining on Amy in an obvious compliment to her looks.

  “Mel Gasman, please,” Gavin said.