Chapter 8. In the Dark

"Bakersfield's coming up, Bill. You want to stop for coffee, or trade off?"

Ralph's offer was tempting. The headlights from oncoming traffic were blinding, and he was tired from the 4 hour drive. But Bill wanted to stay at the wheel, and keep driving. Concentrating on driving down the dark highway was at least something that he could get his mind around. Everything else seemed to be spiraling out of his control.

The drive back to Los Angeles was taking forever. Pam was curled in the back seat, as she tried unsuccessfully to get some sleep. Bill and Ralph, in front, said almost nothing for the past 2 hours. Both were in heavy thought, going over the long day in their minds. The exceptionally long drive south back to L.A. only added another level of disappointment to the day.

The morning had gone bad in the Napa State Psychiatric Hospital, when they learned that Martin Fields would not be available for questioning. The afternoon went even worse.

After leaving the grounds of the hospital, Ralph doubled back and returned to the hospital in the suit. He was concerned; the possibility of getting a holographic vibe off of an insane person was terrifying. Yet Bill insisted that he could handle it, and Pam assured him that Fields was sedated and calm.

With the help of the suit, Ralph turned invisible, and quietly entered Fields' room. He was shocked to see it for himself, although it was exactly the way that Pam had described it a few minutes earlier. The dozens of charcoal drawings, taped to the wall, made the room look like an eccentric artist's studio. The first sketch he noticed was new; eerily familiar, the drawing was clearly the face of Bill Maxwell, sketched in black and white. As he walked around the bed, Ralph noticed that Martin had already begun another picture. He had only just begun, but the jet black hair and the large eyes were unmistakably Pam's.

Still invisible, he moved quietly passed the bed and approached the black and white gallery of faces. He pressed his hand against a picture on the wall. There was nothing. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get a holograph. He moved his hand to the next picture, but still had no luck.
Ralph repeated this with several pictures. Each time, there was nothing. Finally, he skipped several and moved straight to the picture of Bill. Immediately, an image of Bill and Pam appeared on the wall in front of him. The two were seated impatiently in a tan sedan several miles outside of the hospital.

"Well, at least the suit is still working" Ralph thought to himself. These other pictures, he began to suspect, were not real people at all.

Finally Ralph noticed the image of a woman on a sketch in the corner. He began to walk closer, to try to get a vibe. As he approached, he noticed his arm was in full view. As he looked down at himself, he realized he was beginning to fade in and out.

Upon seeing image of a blond man in red pyjamas fade in and out of sight, Martin Fields began to scream. It seemed as if he had never been sedated at all. The noise of his panic quickly drew two orderlies in, followed quickly by Dr. Jamieson.

No matter who or what was to blame, Martin Fields would likely spend many years to come highly medicated, trying to figure out what the blond man was doing fading in and out of view in his room. No doubt, we would be convinced that he was somehow connected to alien visitors. Ironically, this time he was right.

Hours later, seated in the car Ralph kept thinking to himself that none of this would have happened if only he was able to control the suit. Bill knew that his partner felt bad about it, but there was nothing he could do to make him feel any better.

"Well, This is just great. This scenario is coming to a complete stop!" Bill wasn't sure what else to say. "What do we have here, boys and girls? One dead guy, and one banana sundae."

Taking in a deep breath, Ralph added that at least they were able to get some information from Pam's meeting with Fields.

Bill was skeptical. "Oh, yeah, and what does that tell us?"

Insulted, Pam sat up in the back seat and added a few key points, as if reading from a list. "That Fields never met McDonald. That their contact was all over the phone. And that at some point, a woman went to Fields to ask him about McDonald."

"Counselor, not even taking in to account the fact that this guy is nuts, this still gives us nothing. The faces on the wall, well, Ralph couldn't even vibe off of them. They probably weren't even real people!" Bill tried to remain calm and cool. "Davidson, we can't trust any of that. Most of that, that junk, is coming completely out of his imagination. We have nothing."

"Bill, maybe you could try to dig out the old files." Ralph added. "You could call up your contact back in St Louis again..."

"You want me to call in favors, for this? You want me to convince someone that the FBI is interested in a suicide, dating all the way back to 1968?"

Pam's ears perked up. "1968? Did you say 1968? Is that when McDonald died?"

Ralph turned and looked at Pam, while Bill peeked at her through his rear view mirror. "Yes, Pam. That's what Bill wrote down..."

Pam was deep in thought. When she finally spoke, her words came out slowly. "Martin said he was contacted by McDonald by the phone... but he specifically said it was 1972."

"Counselor! This guy can't even remember which side of the fork to put in his mouth, let alone what year he got a phone call! Come on!"

"Well, maybe it's worth looking into anyway" Ralph said, defending his fiancé.

"If it's a suicide, it's gonna to be a local case," Bill finally said, very calmly. "I am out of my jurisdiction. What do I tell them, Ralph?"

Ralph replied, although it was obvious he was not completely convinced himself. "Bill, I am sure you can think of something."

End Part I