Chapter 13

'I've pulled some files on Edgar Fisher. He's a saint. He's done nothing wrong in all the time he's been a teacher. Exemplary work record; never had a girlfriend; never even said boo to a goose. He's as pure as the driven snow' Hutch said as he propped his elbows wearily on the table and dry scrubbed at his face.

'I said he was. I told ya, you're barkin' up the wrong tree buddy. We should be concentratin' our minds on solvin' the case, not persecutin' the poor guy.'

Hutch's jaw dropped open in disbelief. 'Persecuting? Who're ya callin' a "poor guy"? He's as slimy as an eel and twice as slippery. What is it with you Starsk? Jeez ya sound like you're in love with the guy.'

'Fuck it Hutchinson! Will you leave Edgar Fisher out of this! Just leave it huh?' Starsky yelled and threw his pen down on his desk. A couple of the other detectives in the squad room looked up with raised eyebrows, but said nothing. Starsky had been getting steadily tetchier for a couple of days and they knew better than to get on the wrong side of the brunet's temper. Instead, they busied themselves in their own files and one by one sidled out of the office.

'See what you've done now?' Hutch muttered.

'Me? What did I do?'

'I don't know what it is with you Gordo. What's gotten into you? I can't say two words of the wrong sort to ya without ya jumping down my neck! I need to know. Is it the case, or are ya sick, or is it that you're just suddenly fed up with me?'

'No, no an' no!'

'Well what? Every time I mention the case or Fisher you're jumpier than a pan of popcorn on a stove. I tell ya buddy, this has got to stop, and stop now.'

Starsky sighed heavily. 'M'sorry. I just wish I could stop feelin' so damned tired all the time. An' I keep getting' these phone calls late at night. They make me feel kinda jumpy and then I don't sleep good.'

'Phone calls? Who from? Are they nuisance calls? You can….'

'No, they're not nuisance calls' the brunet grunted a little quicker than would have been usual.

'Well who're they from?'

They're from… from…they're……what does it matter who they're from? I wasn't complainin' about 'em. It was you who brought the subject up. Just leave it huh?'

Hutch shrugged his shoulders. 'K Whatever you want buddy. But Thursday we get to the bottom of this of this one way or the other.'

Starsky raised his eyebrows. 'Huh?'

'Uh huh. I made a call. Edgar Fisher is comin' in on Thursday, so we can ask him face to face what's goin' on.'

The smaller man's face burned turkey cock red with indignation. 'You got no right to bring him in!'

'Yes, I do Starsk. He's one of the few folk left around here who worked at the home. And like it or not, everyone we interviewed had something none too complimentary to say about him. He's coming, and that's that.'

There was a sound outside Starsky's door and he got up off the bed shakily. Every sound these days seemed to make him feel panicky and the tide of fear swelled up his chest as the door swung open. With relief, the brunet saw that it wasn't Rafferty, but one of the other guards. Maybe today was the Irishman's day off. He could only hope! Without comment, and without waiting to be asked, Starsky turned and braced himself against the wall as the guard silently put the belt and cuffs on him.

'Where to boss?' he asked quietly.

'Back to the shrink. I think she's taken a fancy to you, lucky dog!' the guard said with a grin. He was one of the more human ones and Starsky found himself grinning back as he shuffled alongside the uniformed man back to the hospital wing. For a little while at least he could relax and to be truthful, a little bit of eye candy in the shape of Beth Knott would do wonders for his soul. He followed meekly as he was ushered into the small, neat office and sat down as the woman turned and pointed to the chair. The guard turned to go, but Beth called him back.

'I need you to unlock those' she pointed to the restraints. 'It's ok, I have the Warden's permission and you'll be right outside the door right?' she assured the man.

Pausing only for a moment, the guard took out the large bunch of keys and undid the manacles but left the belt buckled in place. Starsky made no comment, but stood absently rubbing at his wrists. He'd worn the damned cuffs so long over the past couple of days, and had struggled so hard with Rafferty the day before that he had red welts around them and they burned fiercely.

Beth smiled at the curly haired man. 'I want you to lie down on the table there' she indicated a long, black upholstered medical table arranged across the back of the room, it's head end raised and decorated with a plain white pillow.

Once upon a time the brunet would have made some smart comment about not getting into bed with a girl on a second date, but those days seemed long ago. He was empty, a shell in the shape of Dave Starsky and against the shock of shooting his partner, the treatment he'd received at the hands of the guard had left him feeling worthless and dirty – a puppet in the hands of these people. They pulled his strings and he danced for them. Starsky walked over to the bed and lay down on it, hands folded across his belly as he stared at the ceiling. Beth came to stand by him.

'Dave, before the incident with your partner, did you notice anything out of the ordinary? Maybe an odd conversation or someone asking crazy questions maybe?'

The brunet let out a breath, trying to force his mind to go back to that awful time. It hurt him both mentally and physically to remember shooting Hutch and his breath quickened, his hands fluttering on his stomach as he fought for the memories.

'I um….. I remember going home. We'd had a bad day – an argument. I always seemed to be arguing with him and yet I didn't know why. He's so easy going and he used to put up with all the crazy things I did and yet I kept getting mad at him. Anyhow, he dropped me off at home and….. I was tired, very tired.'

'Why? Was there any particular reason you were tired?' Beth asked.

'Um…. I kept getting phone calls, late at night. I remember the calls, but I can't remember who they were from. He kept asking me about it. Hutch kept askin' me but I couldn't tell him. I tried but I….I couldn't…..I couldn't tell him, but I don't know why!'

Beth's voice was calm, reassuring the curly haired prisoner. 'You're doing well Dave. I want you to concentrate on my voice. Listen to my voice and feel yourself relaxing. That's it. Your eyes are getting heavy and you're closing them now.' the woman watched as her patient calmed down, his body relaxing onto the bed and his eyelashes dark smudges against his olive toned cheeks.

'Can you hear me Dave?'

'Yeah.' The voice was relaxed and had a far away quality to it.

'I want you to think back to the telephone calls. Let the thoughts flow into one. Don't try to stop them, just watch as they flow through your memory. Now. Who were the phone calls from?'

'I'm sitting on the sofa. It's late an' I'm thinkin' about goin' to bed and then the phone rings. I pick it up. 'H'llo.' I recognise the voice. It's the same voice as last night.'

'Who is it?' Beth asked quietly.

'It's… I recognise the voice. It's…..it……I know it. I know his name. It's…..' Starsky's voice started to rise again and Beth realised she was getting nowhere. She changed tack.

'Let it pass Dave. Relax and let it pass. Good. Now concentrate on your breathing. I want you to listen to my voice. You're going to remember the phone call, but the name of the caller isn't important. Just think about the words. What did the caller say?'

'I pick up the phone and listen. I recognise the voice. It's….it….'

'Move on Dave. Not the name, just what they said. Think about what they said' Beth pushed.

'I say hello and they say hi, remember me. I say yes and then they say…..they….they….oh shit!' Starsky's hands went to his head and he clutched at his temples panting through the pain in his brow. 'They tell me….to…..they say….they…..nooooo!'

Beth stepped forward, clasping the man's wrists and holding on as she put her mouth down to his ear. 'I'm bringing you out of this. When I count backwards to one, you'll wake feeling refreshed and awake. Three, two one and wake.'

But Starsky continued to struggle on the bed, his hands still up at his temples as he writhed, sweat trickling down the sides of his face as though he were in great pain. He moaned softly. 'Hurts…..said it would hurt…..shouldn't remember…..shouldn't try.'

Beth snapped her fingers by the side of the prisoner's ear and said loudly. 'Dave wake!'

There was a moment's pause and then Starsky sagged back against the black upholstery as though he were exhausted. Slowly his eyes opened and he looked around him as he wiped the back of his left hand over his brow. It came away slick with perspiration. 'What happened?' he asked quietly, feeling as though he'd just chased a perp at full speed half way across town.

Beth went to the small basin in the corner and poured a glass of water. She handed it to him. 'You've been hypnotised before' she said.

'Don't think so. I'd know wouldn't I?'

'No, maybe not. I've been doing some research and there's something called conversational hypnosis. You might never know its happening and I think these phone calls have a lot to do with it.'

'You're sayin' that someone hypnotised me down the phone? C'mon doc, that's as far fetched as little green aliens aint it?' Starsky sipped at the water appreciatively and handed the empty glass back to the woman with a smile. She tried to tear herself away from the penetrating indigo gaze.

'It is possible. I've been reading about it, but it would take someone very proficient in hypnosis to do it properly. As I understand it there are several steps.' Beth crossed to the table and took a book from the bookcase. She opened it at a marked page and started to read.

'Rapport

The first step in conversational hypnosis is creating a rapport with the subject. This means agreeing with what they have to say. For instance, if the subject says, "There's no way out of this," the proper response is, "You're right. There's no way out. The next step in is to confuse the issue. Sometimes a simple question works. "But even if there is no way out, can you be absolutely sure that a solution won't pop into your mind in the next minute or so?" Another technique used to create confusion in conversational hypnosis is to encourage resistance, perhaps by saying, "No one could solve that problem. It's simply too complex. There's absolutely no way out. You don't have a chance…" At some point, the subject will probably start arguing with you that the problem is not so unsolvable after all! Still another confusion technique is to suggest that the subject do more of something that isn't working. For instance, an obese subject might be encouraged to gain weight.'

'Suggestion. The final step in conversational hypnosis is to make an indirect suggestion such as, "You're feeling a bit less hopeless now, aren't you?" or "I don't know why, but it seems to me you look more optimistic than you did a few minutes ago."

Needless to say, conversational hypnosis is no easy feat, and it is best left to professionals. Once the subject is hypnotised trigger words can be introduced in order to allow simple, or sometimes complex commands to be given and carried out.'

Beth closed the book and put it down behind her on the table. 'I think you've been hypnotised and I'd like to try and find out for sure. How do you feel about Sodium pentothal?'

Starsky looked at her in disbelief. 'Truth serum? You think I'm lyin'?'

'No, certainly not, but it is one way of getting past the conditioning left by the hypnosis. I need your permission to give it a try, but we could do it now.'

Starsky didn't take too much convincing. He wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on as much as Beth did and he nodded, rolling up his sleeve as the woman prepared a syringe and filled it with a clear, colourless liquid. Swiftly, she swabbed an area on Starsky's upper arm and as gently as she could, pushed the needle deep into his muscle. Withdrawing it, she rubbed the injection site and stood back.

'I gotta warn ya Doc, I've had this stuff before. It just makes me feel tired and weak. It don't make me tell the truth so much.'

'When did you use it?' Beth asked, talking to while away the time for the drug to take effect.

Starsky gave a crooked, sad type of smile. 'I spent some time as a guest of the Viet Cong, go figure.' As he said it, he could feel the familiar pull of the drug as an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. His legs and arms felt heavy and his head started to swim. He closed his eyes with a quiet groan and rested his head back against the pillow, hating the feeling of powerlessness the drug brought with it.

Beth couldn't resist the impulse and gently pushed one of the curls back from his forehead. One sleepy indigo eye opened lazily and Starsky smiled. 'S'nice' he whispered.

'Ok Dave. I want you to go back to that night when you got the phone call ok. You've picked the phone up. You've answered it and it's….'

At that moment the door to the small room burst open and two of the larger guards rushed in. the woman turned in anger.

'What the hell?'

'Sorry Doc. 02698 is required back on the hall. We've got orders to bring him back to his cell.'

'But you can't. I'm half way though a treatment. Gimme five minutes huh?'

As the two big men got hold of the limp prisoner and dragged him off the bed, cuffing him again securely they grunted a refusal. 'No can do Doc. Orders is orders.'

Starsky tried to raise his head but the drug had him truly in its grip and Beth called after him as he was hauled away down the corridor.

'I'll make another appointment Dave. Try to relax huh?' Beth returned to her office and picked up the book she'd read from. She looked on the inside cover and with a pensive expression on her face started to dial the publishers number to ask to be put through to the author of "Hypnotism – power of the mind " by Edgar Fisher.