Palm Sunday (20 page)

“He’s out cold.” He put his penlight back in his pocket. “Whoever had him before us did an excellent job of counter-programming. I don’t think we got anywhere near his core persona.”

“I agree. All that babbling about ‘Bozo’ was clearly planted.”

“Nicely done, too.”

The other nodded. “I guess we’d better wake him and start over.”

They took positions on either side of Slocum, and one administered a strong stimulant. Slocum’s eyelids started to twitch, and his head rolled from side to side. Finally, his eyes opened and he tried to sit up. He seemed surprised and disoriented by the restraints.

“Settle down, now. You’re at the agency, remember?”

Slocum looked around, and slowly started to remember. He relaxed somewhat, and settled back. “What do you want?” His breathing was labored, his body exhausted from the ordeal he had been through.

“We only want some answers. If you cooperate and tell us what we want to know, we won’t have to use the drugs again.”

It was a lie, and Slocum knew it. The only reason the doctors were here was because the agency wanted them to use the drugs. They thought it was the most reliable method, and they were right.

“I’ve already answered your questions,” said Slocum. His head was swimming.

“We just need to clarify some details regarding the palmtop, which you claim was lost.”

“Not lost. Stolen. I told you, at the bar, just before I was supposed to meet a client, I got mugged. They took my money and the palm unit.”

“That was by…” the doctor looked at his notes. “Bozo?”

Slocum shook his head. “Not Bozo. Bobo. He’s a gang leader.”

“So Bobo has the palmtop?”

“No. He threw it out.”

The doctors exchanged glances.

“Mr. Slocum, surely you can see why we have a problem with your story.” He nodded to the other doctor, who prepared a syringe. “If this Bobo went to the trouble of mugging you and stealing your palmtop, why would he simply throw it away? And how would you even know that’s what happened?” The doctor smiled patronizingly, pleased that he had so easily proven the incongruity in Slocum’s account.

“You don’t understand. I met him later. I mean–I found him. After I shot his partner he told me where he had thrown the palmtop.” The doctor with the syringe approached. “No, not again,” said Slocum, struggling.

The doctor found a spot on Slocum’s arm and gave him the shot. Moments later, Slocum’s eyes became droopy, and his speech slurred. He then started laughing hysterically.

“Bozo, Bozo, Bozo…Ha!”

The doctors looked at each other, concerned. This was not what they expected.

“Mr. Slocum? Can you hear me?”

Slocum stopped his ranting. “Yes.” He became perfectly calm.

“Who are you working for?”

Slocum looked puzzled. “I used to work for the agency.”

“What agency?”

“This agency–National Communications.”

“But now you work for someone else, right?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you saw your palmtop?”

Slocum hesitated, trying to remember. “Before Bobo took me.”

“Took you where?”

Slocum seemed to be concentrating. “I don’t remember. The projects.”

“Is that where the palmtop is?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“But Bobo has it?”

Slocum started laughing again. “Bozo, Bozo, Bozo.” He was losing touch with reality.

“Slocum, listen to me, this is very important. Who were you working with before you were arrested?”

“Ah, Stanley and…Bobby was there, too.”

“What’s Stanley’s last name?”

“Uh…Whip…pal. Whipple.”

“Where are they, Slocum?”

“At my…Bozo, Bozo, Bozo. Ha, ha, ha.” Slocum lapsed into unconsciousness.

The doctors stepped away from the table. One said, “If we want more we’ll have to kill him.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that approach.”

“We better tell Mason what we’ve learned.” 

Five people were present at the meeting to discuss Slocum, which took place in the agency conference room. Mason was there, as well as George Pampas and the two doctors who had questioned Slocum. In addition, Kayoko was invited, though she did not know the reason for the meeting.

“I don’t know if you all know each other,” said Mason. “But these two gentlemen are doctors from our clinical staff. Doctors, this is George Pampas, and Kayoko Watanabe. Kayoko works in our Societal Profiling unit, and as a psychologist she’ll be doing a workup on Slocum.”

Kayoko nodded towards the doctors, but was obviously confused.

Pampas said, “Mr. Mason, maybe we should bring Kayoko up to speed concerning our guest.”

Mason nodded. “Yes, of course. She’ll need to know what she’s dealing with.”

“I don’t understand,” said Kayoko.

“Do you recall the meeting we had–you, me, and Tom Snelling?” asked Mason.

“Yes, you said there were technical issues regarding security that had to be resolved. That’s why the computer center couldn’t help us.”

“That’s exactly right, and now we’ve identified the source of our problems. It turns out that one of our implementers is a traitor. He’s been feeding information about the agency to someone on the outside, but we aren’t certain how much has been compromised, or to whom.” He turned to Pampas. “George, give us a brief summary, if you would.”

Pampas leaned forward and looked directly at Kayoko. “Some time ago one of our implementers, Robert Slocum, reported that his handheld computer had been stolen during a robbery. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but the palmtops that we issue to implementers are highly specialized, very complex devices. They aren’t meant to be lost.”

“Surely there are accidents,” said Kayoko. “This can’t have been the first time something like this has happened.”

“As a matter of fact, it was,” said Pampas. “Units have malfunctioned, of course. But those were brought back in and replaced or repaired. This one was supposedly lost.”

“Supposedly?”

“Slocum said he was close to recovering it, yet at the same time our computer people detected efforts to use it to monitor agency traffic. Only one person would have been able to do that, and he was claiming that he hadn’t found the device yet.”

“Isn’t it possible that someone else found it and was accessing it?” asked Kayoko.

Pampas was getting irritated at her refusal to accept the facts. “Not in this case. There are safeguards built in.”

“So you’re certain that Slocum is a traitor?”

Pampas nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

Mason took over. “Get to know him, see if you can gain his confidence. Right now he finds himself in a place with no allies, among people he has betrayed. A compassionate figure may elicit more information than the doctors could.”

She looked at the two doctors at the far end of the table. “Why did you need doctors? Was he hurt?”

Mason shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Slocum was unwilling to tell us anything, so I’m afraid we had to go the pharmacology route.”

Her mouth opened in surprise. “As a first recourse?”

One of the doctors answered. “We questioned him. He was clearly not going to cooperate, and the longer we let him prepare himself, the harder it would be to get anything out of him at all.”

“What do you mean ‘prepare himself’? Was he going to pop down to the corner drug store and buy a counter-agent for whatever you gave him?”

The doctor clarified. “Mentally prepare himself. He’s an implementer–his capabilities would surprise you.”

Kayoko scoffed. “You defend him and persecute him at the same time.”

“Okay, okay,” said Mason. “We’re all on the same team, right?” He looked from one side of the table to the other, like a referee in a tennis match. “The important thing is, we have to work together to find out a few things. Like who is Slocum is working with, and where is his palm unit right now.”

“We did get some information.” One of the doctors leafed through a folder. “He mentioned some names. Bobo, or Bozo, Stanley Whipple, and Bobby. How much of this is made up we aren’t sure. The Bozo part, though, we’re almost certain is programmed.” The other doctor nodded his assent.

For a moment it didn’t sink in, then Pampas realized what the doctor had said. “Did you say Stanley Whipple?”

“Yes, that’s right. Whipple.”

Pampas looked at Mason. “There’s probably not too many Stanley Whipples.”

“Get right on that,” said Mason. He turned to Kayoko. “I’d like you to spend some time with Slocum. Learn whatever you can about him, but don’t push too hard in the beginning. Just gain his trust. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Kayoko was not entirely pleased with the assignment, or with the increasingly peculiar direction the agency was taking. She wondered what else was going on that she didn’t know about. She was curious, though, about Robert Slocum, and looked forward to talking with him.

It was part of the building that Kayoko had never seen; in fact most people who worked at the agency didn’t even know this floor existed. The long, narrow corridor that led to the security cells was cold and uninviting, a solitary wooden desk sitting sentry-like at one end. As George Pampas escorted Kayoko down the hall, neither of them said a word. The only sound was that of their footsteps echoing off the tiled floor. They stopped at the end of the hallway.

The cell before them was protected by two sets of steel bars. The outer gate had an electronic keypad, while the inner gate required only a key. A small table with a single chair was set up in the hallway outside. Pampas nodded towards the prisoner within, indicating that Kayoko could begin her interview at any time. She looked at the middle-aged man sitting motionless against the wall.

“I’ll need to go inside.”

“Sorry,” said Pampas. “You’ll have to ask your questions from this side of the gate. Security regulations.”

“He’s shackled to the wall. What harm could he possibly do?”

“Probably none,” said Pampas. “But rules are rules, especially where security is concerned. Besides, the first gate won’t open unless I put in the code. Even that won’t work unless the computer center programs the system to expect it. Norbert wouldn’t have done that without being told.”

“I see,” said Kayoko. “Then I guess I’ll have to talk to him from out here. I will need to be alone with him, though.”

“Certainly. If you need anything, I’ll be at the desk at the end of the hall.” He turned and walked away.

After he left, Kayoko moved closer to the cell. Slocum sat with his head hung low, one wrist handcuffed to a metal ring that protruded from the wall.

“Mr. Slocum?” His head bobbed, and his eyes lifted to meet hers, then lowered. “Mr. Slocum, I need to ask you a few questions. It won’t take long, and if you cooperate I might be able to help you.”

He looked at her again. “Why are you doing this?” It seemed to take all of his strength to pose the question.

“Mr. Slocum–or should I call you Robert?” He didn’t answer. She went on. “My role is as an advocate, not an adversary. The others are more interested in what you know. My concern is for what you need.” She watched for a reaction, even a negative one. There was nothing. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

He nodded slowly. He was starving, and his mouth felt as dry as sand.

“I’ll see about getting you something.” She walked to the desk where Pampas sat.

He looked up as she approached. “Giving up so soon?”

“No. I’d like to see that Mr. Slocum gets something to eat. A sandwich, perhaps, and some water.”

“Sorry. Nothing for the prisoner until he gives us something.”

“Let me use your phone.” He hesitated, and slid it to her. She punched in four numbers, and watched Pampas’s face as she spoke with Mason. “This is Kayoko Watanabe. I’ve just started speaking with Mr. Slocum, and I feel that it would be prudent to offer him something to eat and drink at this point.”

“What does Pampas think?” asked Mason.

“He disagrees. But I feel this is a minor concession that I can turn to my advantage.”

For a moment Mason said nothing. “Put Pampas on the phone.” She handed the receiver to him.

“He wants to talk to you,” said Kayoko.

He put the receiver to his ear. “Pampas here.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, I see. I’ll take care of it myself.” He hung up, pulling the phone back across the desk. “Mason must like you. Slocum gets his meal.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me. Personally I think if you baby this guy it will only play into his hands.”

“Even prisoners deserve to be treated as human beings,” said Kayoko.

Pampas shrugged and put through a call to order the meal. He then called Norbert to have the electronic security gate set to accept his code. When the food arrived twenty minutes later, Kayoko watched as Pampas first entered a five-digit sequence in the outer gate keypad, then used a regular key to open the inner gate. He placed the food and bottle of water close enough for Slocum to reach it, then exited and closed both gates. He returned to his station at the end of the hall.

Kayoko sat at the table outside the cell, watching Slocum eat. He moved slowly. “I thought you were hungry,” she said.

“I am. It’s hard to eat like this.” His right hand remained cuffed to the wall. “I’m still a little woozy, too.”

She observed him closely. If he was putting on an act, it was a good one. “Are you ready to talk to me?”

He looked up, still chewing, and awkwardly picked up the bottle of water. He swallowed, and then lowered the bottle. “What do you want from me? I tried to tell those doctors what they wanted to know, but they didn’t believe me. Why would you believe me?”

“My job is to simply talk to you, to make sure your needs are being met–like making sure you’re fed–and to see to your general well being.”

“So you’re a shrink.” Slocum smiled. He knew the pattern. It was a clever variation on the good cop-bad cop routine.

She didn’t deny it. “I can present your needs to the appropriate parties.”

Slocum nodded. He had no intention of trusting her, but she was his only source of information. “Why don’t you humor me and tell me what you want to know. We might save some time.”