Mulder drove the FBI Ford rental in silence, fiercely chewing on sunflower seeds and discarding the empty shells in the coupe's cup holder, his eyebrows locked in concentration. Sunflower seeds were one of his few healthy habits. He had acquired the compulsion back at the University of Oxford, where, taking six classes a semester, he had graduated at the top of his class with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology. During these several years of intense work, something had to give. He had gotten away with a prestigious degree, an irregular sleep schedule, and an addiction to sunflower seeds. Somehow, they focused his thoughts in a way nothing else could.
Scully interrupted his silence.
"OK, Mulder, what is it?"
"What is what?"
"Why are you giving me the silent treatment?"
Mulder looked at her surprised. "I am thinking about the case," he said.
"You are not saying there is more to investigate, are you? For us anyway. There will be police work of course. Track the source of the drugs, find who was responsible to get Tony into the habit. But this is not something the FBI should be concerned about."
"Are you happy with your conclusions?" His question sounded more like a challenge.
"They make sense," Scully defended herself. "A kid starts to take drugs. This changes his life. Suddenly, he is better in sports - that's how doping works. He becomes popular. Tries to hide his addiction by injecting himself on the bottom of his feet. At about the same time he gets a pair of sneakers. He starts to associate the sneakers with his popularity, and with the highs he gets from the drugs. Over time, he doesn't want to part with the sneakers. For him, they are the reason for the way he feels. It's the old Pavlovian dog-and-a-bell operant conditioning."
"Except that his mother doesn't think he takes drugs," pointed out Mulder. "She knew Tony well."
Scully gave him a curt smile. "Have you done drugs Mulder?" she asked.
"I went to college," said Mulder. "So did you."
"Did you tell your mother you tried drugs?"
"No, but that's not really the point. Mrs. Crane did not say she expected Tony to tell her the truth about taking drugs. She just said she didn't see how he could have done that. She kept track of where he spent his money. Also, the kid behaved normally. He did well in school. He was an outstanding athlete. He was only combative when someone threatened to take off his sneakers. He went to Dr. Walsh voluntarily. How many drug addicts do you know who have that kind of M.O.?"
Scully stared through the car window, watching shopping malls and billboards fly by as they drove along I-83.
"I don't know," she said, "but with the amount of cocaine they found in his blood, he must have been sky high."
"And yet, he did not show any signs of it when he went to the doctor with his mother this morning," argued Mulder. "He went there with the intention to get help. He only started to behave abnormally when his sneakers were taken off. Abnormal to the extreme, Scully. He died, just as he had said he would if his shoes were taken off."
Scully shook her head. "Tony died from an overdose of cocaine, Mulder. No one dies from having his sneakers taken off."
"He did," said Mulder stubbornly.
He took a sudden turn onto an exit ramp that caught Scully unprepared. She held on to the dashboard as she swayed on the passenger seat and then steadied herself as the ramp straightened up and merged with a smaller street.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"To get an expert opinion," smiled Mulder slyly.
He navigated several small streets, turned a corner, and stopped in front of what looked like a warehouse on a dilapidated street in the middle of an industrial district.