The Crossover (18 page)

After little sleep the night before I found myself nodding off at the wheel. Monet slept the entire way home.

Gabby, the little girl next door, waited for us near the driveway. I opened the front door for Monet and addressed my little friend.

“I bet I know what you want. Hmm, your bouncy ball is in my backyard and you want it back, right?” I said, on one knee.

Gabby grabbed me by the hand and took me to her front door.

“My daddy’s looking for you. I think it’s important.”

Carl stuck his head outside his upstairs bedroom. He spotted me and he was at the front door in a flash.

“Clay, we’ve got a break. Anna agreed to let you see her. And not a moment too soon; the Press is breathing down our necks. We need this to work. Whatever resources you need, just say the word. We’ll make it happen.”

This was the opportunity I’d dreamed of for the last 20 years. I knew there would never be a more important session than this. Not only would I help someone but maybe I could save lives. I started to get nervous. It was all or nothing and nothing was unacceptable.

I managed to overcome my anxiety and committed to Carl.

“Carl, I can do it. When do you want me? I’m on your time.”

“The mayor will be chuffed. I’ll call him now and confirm. I can arrange for Anna to meet you at Scotland Yard in three hours.”

I was expecting Carl to say later in the week, I guess he was desperate. Apparently, Anna moved in with her older sister and decided to go through with it against her father’s wishes.

I found Monet on the computer in my study checking emails. She wanted to come along, but she wasn’t supposed to know in the first place. She understood.

I quickly showered and met Carl outside.

“Clay, a patrol vehicle has been dispatched; it should be here in a few minutes.”

“Cool, you’re coming too, right?”

“I’ll meet you down there. I’ve gotta stop by the Cambridge precinct first.”

A black van with tinted windows pulled into my drive. Carl gave me a pep talk before I took off for a 90-minute drive to Central London.

“I think I can speak on behalf of the Metropolitan Police Force when I say this... thank you. Let’s get this son-of-a-bitch.”

For the first time in my practice, doubt reared its ugly head.

What if she resists?

What if she can’t relax?

What if she can’t overcome the effects of the drug that blocked her memory that night?

I always imagined Scotland Yard being tucked away in a secure location. Nope, it was in downtown London with a large revolving gray sign that read
Scotland Yard.

I was escorted past three cipher-locked entrances, the last had biometrics security. I was issued a yellow visitor’s badge that read
Escort Required.
I was greeted by a big burly police sergeant outside the debriefing room.

“So, you must be the psychic everyone’s talking about?”

“No, I’m a hypnotist, not a psychic.”

The cop shrugged his shoulders.

“Same difference.”

At least three other police officers also thought I was a psychic. I’d heard rumors that some British police precincts employed psychics to assist in their investigations, but I didn’t know for sure.

A young detective sat by me and spoke to me. He was super-friendly, not like some of the officers I’d already met.

“The guys have been talking about this all week. I think the mayor is coming down. This isn’t normal protocol; the big guy had to brief the mayor on this one. Good luck, mate.”

Just as I was starting to get settled, the idea of the ‘Big Boss’ overseeing my session with Anna really made me nervous. My hands wouldn’t stay still. I was shaking like a leaf.

Anna was running late. I had almost hoped she wouldn’t show, I was that nervous.

After a ninety-minute wait, I observed a tiny blonde woman being escorted by two uniformed officers. She barely looked twenty years old. She had a vacant stare with no expression. I could tell she was emotionally wounded. I knew it was Anna.

I had to get over my nervousness about meeting the big boss. We couldn’t start without him. I said a silent prayer for confidence.

“ATTENTION ON DECK!” shouted a policeman posted at the entrance.

Everyone snapped to attention including me. I felt like I was back in the Marine Corps. My heart was pounding even harder by this time. I didn’t know how I could pull this off, being as nervous as I was. I was so close to calling the whole thing off.

A police officer introduced me to the big boss.

“Mr. Thompson, this is the Chief Superintendent. He will observe the debriefing.”

“Carl?” I said.

Carl stood there looking stellar in his dress uniform with stars on his collar. I would never have guessed after all these years that Carl was the head honcho of such an elite unit. All of my nervousness and anxiety went away. I was back in control.

“Clay, I told you I’d meet you here. Are you ready?” Carl asked as he removed his dress cover from his head.

The staff found it strange that I was on a first name basis with the big boss. Carl never let on that he was so high up the chain of command.

Carl escorted me into the debriefing room. The room was sterile white with the obligatory one-way mirror. A table was placed in the middle of the room and there were two seats lined against the wall.

Carl briefed me on the sequence of events and identified the two men who entered the room.

I wasn’t expecting anyone to observe so closely inside the room. The professor-looking old man was a sketch artist and he sat next to the forensic profiler. A large black police officer stood at the door at attention.

There was a red light above the door. It started to flash.

Anna walked in hesitantly, wringing her hands in fear of the unknown. I wanted to help her but I knew it would be a challenge.

She stood behind the chair across the table from me.

“Anna, my name is Clay. Please, have a seat.”

She sat. Anna was an emotional train wreck. I hoped she could hold it together.

“Anna, can I offer you something to drink?”

“Uh, can I have a shandy
³
, please?”

I motioned to the one-way mirror.

“Can we get Anna a shandy, please?”

I needed to establish rapport and I was on my way. The black policeman standing post was given the order to fetch the shandy. He wasn’t happy.

Anna seemed to relax just a tiny bit after she sipped her lemonade shandy.

“Anna, do you know why you are here?” I asked, with my hands clasped on the table.

“Yes. It’s about that night. You want to ask me some questions.”

After a few minutes I realized that Anna wasn’t told she was going to be hypnotized. She expected to be interviewed. What I thought would be a curve ball was actually a blessing in disguise. If she had known I was going to hypnotize her she may have had her defenses up. This was perfect. You can’t resist what you don’t see coming. I would induce her with a rapid induction.

Anna had a
Help for Heroes
bracelet on her right wrist. It was in memory of her uncle who died in Afghanistan. That was my opening. She opened up and gave me a heroic account of how her beloved uncle died while trying to rescue a private from a burning, overturned truck. Being a retired Marine I was genuinely empathetic to her story. I could feel her defenses lowering and our trust building.

“Anna, may I see your bracelet, please?”

I gently examined her wrist. Then I gripped it tightly. Anna’s eyes exploded with fear. With a quick jerky motion I gave the command.

“S L E E P N O W!”

She slumped over the desk.

The sketch artist looked over to the profiler who was taking notes. They didn’t know what to make of it. The officer posted at the door blurted out.

“Crikey
⁴
!”

“Anna, your body is asleep but your mind is active. I want you to focus on the sound of my voice and allow it to relax you even more than are now. You can sit up now.”

Anna raised up. Her eyelids fluttered exposing only the whites of her eyes.

“Anna, you recently met a man, a very bad man. Do you know who he is?”

Anna nodded yes. She was too deep in trance to speak. I had to ease her trance state to allow her to verbalize her responses.

“I will count from five to one. When I reach one you will be slightly more alert and more responsive to my questions. Five, four, three, two and one!”

It worked. Her verbal responses were almost zombie-like, but I could understand her.

“Anna, can you go back to that night?”

“No.”

Damn.

“Okay, no problem, I understand. We have the entire event on videotape. All I want you to do is answer a few questions while you watch the tape. You will not relive it, I only need you to observe it from a safe distance, okay?”

Anna’s rapid eye movement increased. I could tell she hit the play button in her mind. Within minutes tears started streaming onto her blouse.

“Anna, where are you?”

“I’m in my car with Matthew. I’m nervous.”

“Who’s Matthew?”

“He’s the new guy in the dorms. He asked me out.”

Anna gave us a treasure trove of information. She didn’t know his last name but she was able to provide a detailed description. The sketch artist was frantically trying to keep up with the pace. Matthew was average height, 20ish, ginger hair and had freckles. By the time Anna was finished with her description I could picture him in my mind.

The session was going great. I was ready to terminate but the sketch artist had one request.

His request would open the gates of hell.

The sketch artist rose from his chair and stood next to Anna. He placed his sketch directly in front of her face. I never saw it coming.

“Is this the man?” he asked.

Anna’s pupils dilated in horror. She went berserk. She flipped the table with Hulk-like strength. I fell out of my chair and papers went flying. Anna dug her nails into the face of the sketch artist and took his pen and stabbed him in the face over and over in a frenzy. Blood spattered all over me and her. I thought he was going to lose an eye. Anna’s rage was accentuated by exorcist-like screams. The red light flashed over the door and the black policeman and another burly officer rushed in and tackled Anna to the ground. They couldn’t keep her pinned down. She hurled both men against the wall like rag dolls. My first impression was that she had become possessed or something, but it was probably adrenaline kicking in. I was still dazed from when the table slammed into my face. I thought my nose was broken. Anna locked her eyes on the forensic profiler who was in shock. He couldn’t move. Anna’s hands were covered in blood and she approach the defenseless man. The siren sounded and a lone police officer walked in with his stun gun drawn. He pointed it towards Anna’s back.

I panicked.

“Wait! Please wait!” I shouted to the policeman.

By this time Anna had raised her bloody pen ready to strike her victim.