The Deep Sleep
Chapter Three
My world explodes with a bang.
After saying good night to Angie, I had gone to the Tavern. I figured a belt or two would help me make sense of all I had seen.
Ok...it was a lot more than two belts. Never bring close to a grand to a bar.
I lay on the Murphy Bed in my office, dying in the sweltering heat. The power’s still not turned on, so I can’t run the fan. My hangover, the heat, and the banging make me wanna draw my 32.
The banging won’t stop. Finally, I realize someone’s at the door.
”I’m coming.” I croak.
Through the frosted glass of the door I see my visitor has a female form, so I pause to pull on my pants and pull up my braces. I guess I never got my shoes off before hitting the rack. I look at the feminine silhouette.
I can’t help it.....I hope it’s Norma.
It’s Angie, and she’s beside herself. She’s in her waitress outfit. Without a word, she rushes into the office, tears streaming down her face. Before I can ask, words pour out of her like Niagara.
”It’s Arty...Johnny....I wake up and he’s gone....I figure he’s opening early so I go down.....he ain’t there either. I figure he’s gone for a walk.....An hour passes...two...now we’re late opening.....Johnny...Arty’s never missed opening..... he’s religious about it.”
”Calm down, Babe....he probably went on a bender...”. I search my memory, I don’t remember seeing him at Jack’s Tavern. It’s the only bar in town our kind are welcome.
It’s like she don’t hear me.
”I call his buddies. No luck. I call the hospital. He’s not a patient. Finally....I call the cops. He’s in jail, Johnny....assaulting a cop.......drunk and disorderly. Sure....he’s got a temper...but it don’t make sense. He’s off the bottle...he just got his three month chip...”
”Angie....people fall off the wagon all time.” The throbbing in my noggin confirms this.
She pauses and gathers herself. “Maybe.....but he’s no criminal, Johnny. Besides..there’s more. I didn’t want to bother you..you working a tough case and all. So I go to the station. Bail’s set, but I can’t afford it. I ask to talk to him.....we give those cops free coffee and food all the time.....I figure it’s the least they can do. They tell me he don’t want to see me. I tell them I don’t believe it. Sure we fight....but all we got is each other....I admit it, I got hot....real hot. They told me to leave....not come back....”
On the inside, I’m real ticked off at Arty. I need this distraction like a hole in the head. But, Angie’s just about the last good friend I have. So I say:
”He’s. embarrassed, maybe I can find out more without you.”
Seaside is an affluent community, and has a brand new police station to fit it. I’m in luck...Sgt. Bart Patterson is the duty officer. He’s cleaner than most of the department, and he owes me a few favors.
”Let me guess, Dupuis, you’re here to see Nicodemus. You gonna scream at me like the sister?”
”You know me, Bart....I’m peaceful. How much to get him out?” I take out my wallet.
”Bail’s set at 300.”
I’m stunned. I’d figured $75. I could go to a bondsman, but that’ll take more time I can’t afford. I look at Bart like he’s got lobsters coming out of his head.
He shrugs, but waits for another patrolman to leave.
”Someone upstairs wants him stuck here.”, he mutters.
I pull out three bills. “I guess three hundred it is. I can’t go back to Angie without him.”
He takes the money. “That’s real funny.....considering she swore out a statement against him.”
”The hell you say. Angie’d die before she’d do that to Arty.” Bart looks around, then slides the arrest report to me. I immediately noticed it’s signed by Patrolman Cumberland, one of the Cafe’s off duty cop bouncers. It says Arty showed up at Cafe Somnambula harassing Angie, drunk as a skunk. It said Angie asked for help and then Arty took a swing at Cumberland. Stapled is Angie’s affidavit fully backing up Cumberland, saying she’s scared of Arty.
It takes while for this to register. Cafe Somnambula......it can’t be a coincidence.
”I gotta start the paperwork now if you want him out by lunch.” Bart goes off for the forms.
I take one look at Arty, and know he needs a doctor. One of his eyes is swollen shut, and he’s real unsteady on his feet. I see at least three cuts that might need stitches. I look at Bart, and he shrugs again. I half carry Arty out, and put him on a bench. Despite what the report say, there’s no odor of booze on him. He’s real punch drunk, though.
It’s then I remember....to be a psychiatrist, you gotta be a medical doctor first. Besides that...I gotta get insight on what I saw last night. I go to a phone booth, and call Doc Volkner. I expect the service, but he picks up. He agrees to meet us at Arty and Angie’s apartment. I tell him to bring his doctor bag.
It’s walking distance but Arty’s in no shape. We have to wait for a cab. He doesn’t even say anything nasty to me as I sit on the bench, so I break the ice.
”You’ve had a night, Pal.”
He ignores me. I up the ante.
”I just spent 3 bills to spring you....the least you can do is say something”
“Thanks”, he grunts.
I wait, but there’s no more from him. I try another tack. I soften my tone.
”Arty......you don’t like me....I get it...but I know this....you didn’t do what they’re saying you did You haven’t been drinking....and I know you’d never hurt Angie.....never.”
This gets to him.
”I’m glad someone knows it. I was just worried about her.”
”Go on, Arty.....tell me everything you remember.”
The dam breaks.
“I’m asleep on the couch in front of the T.V. She must have come home while I was sleeping. I wake up when the phone starts ringing. I’m about to get up and give it to whoever’s calling so late, but Angie beats me too it. She’s still dressed up, except she’s barefoot. She answers, then says ‘Speaking’. She listens, then she say, some gibberish.”
”What kind of gibberish?”
He pauses, thinking.
”Some malarkey about a foster kid who’s slow.”
”What’d that mean...she’s never had a foster child, has she?
“Nah, but that’s what she says....a slow foster kid.....Then, she listens, then says she understands. She hangs up and heads for the door. I get up and say ‘Sis...where you going?’ She don’t even look at me, but mutters she feels like a walk. ‘Now....this late....in your bare feet’?, I ask. She keeps walking and says she’s gonna walk on the beach. I gotta get a shirt and shoes on, but then I follow. I know something ain’t right...Angie’s a good girl...she don’t go out late like this. To be honest.....I thought she was meeting up with you on the beach. I was ready to break your jaw.....I mean it ain’t decent.
But, Angie...she don’t head to no beach. She heads to the coffee place with all the Space Girls. I call out, but she ignores me. I begin to think she’s sleepwalking....but what kind a sleepwalker answers the phone, first?
I catch up with her as she’s headed for the back. They’re waiting for her....that Dorvak and Cumberland. I say hi to Joe, he always mooches coffee and food from the diner and I think he’ll help me talk sense to Angie. But he and Dorvak ain’t happy to see me. They tell me to leave. I tell em not without Sis. Next thing I know, Cumberland and his buddies start beating on me. I hold my own....until one of them hits me with his billy club. Next thing I know, I’m in a holding cell.”
“What’s Angie doing during all this?”
”She just stands there gaping at Dorvak like he’s Tyrone Power. She pays no attention to me getting my melon crushed....doesn’t say a word. Why, Dupuis...why wouldn’t she try to help me.?” A tear runs down his face.
Before I have to answer him, I spot a cab and get up to waive it down. I’m glad......I got no easy answer for him.
Angie and I sit at the kitchen table while Volkner treats Arty on the couch. She’s shaken both by the sight of her brother and his anger at her.
”Why, Johnny....why’s he so mad at me?”
”Because you swore out a statement backing the cop, Angie. He followed you to Cafe Somnambula sometime after midnight, and you told the cops you were scared of him.”
She launches off her chair like a Russian satellite. She yells:
”That’s a damn lie. I would never tell a cop that....even if it was true!”
Volkner hisses:
”Please....stop the yelling.”
She’s still glaring at me, but lowers her voice. It’s just as angry.
”Besides, I never left here. I got home....he’s sleeping in front of the box, and I went to bed. I get up, and he’s gone.”
”Babe, I saw the affidavit.....your handwriting.....your signature. Why the hell did you go back to that looney bin after I told you not to?”
She puts her hands on her head
“None of this makes any sense.....I...I..”
Before she can finish, we hear a polite throat clearing. Doctor Volkner has joined us.
”Ja, I think he does not require hospital. I have cleaned his abrasions and stitched the worst cuts. I’ve given him something to sleep.”
I remember something from my Marine days.“I thought you shouldn’t sleep with a concussion.“
“From what you’ve said, it’s been over ten hours since the trauma. If there is bleeding in the brain, we would have seen signs by now. Fraulein Nicodemus...your brother will need something for the pain when he awakes. Please go to your druggist and have this prescription filled. Best go now, so that they can do this before they close.”
Angie looks at me.
”Babe, do as Doc says. We got to talk...about the case.”
I think she’s happy she now has something useful to do.
”Sure....lemme just get some shoes on..” As she walks away from us, I notice her soles are black, like she’s been out in her bare feet......just like Arty said. I don’t say anything, but I think the shrink notices it.
She leaves with the prescription, and Volkner stares at me.
”I think you should tell me everything, Mr. Dupuis.”
It takes a while, but I get the shrink up to speed and answer his thousand questions. I have a great memory, despite the grenade’s best effort. I’ve told him everything. Now it’s my turn to ask questions.
”How did Dorvak get his hooks into Angie? I kept her from going under during the show. She never went on stage....”
”By your account, there was significant time both she and Dorvak were out of sight. I suggest Angie was the ‘special project’ the girl Dori mentioned. His method is evidently very fast. Besides, he did not need to fully condition her, only to set the post hypnotic trigger command in Miss Nicodemus’ subconscious.”
”Trigger?”
”Ja, once she was in a deep hypnotic trance, Dorvak placed commands for her to obey even while awake. One moment she is her normal self. Then she sees, smells, touches, or hears something he has chosen to be her ‘trigger’ and she has no choice but to obey the pre determined command.”
”Like saying Hi Ho, Hi Ho to the Tilda dame.......or Mr. Sandman to Nancy?”
“Exactly.....but Dorvak has gone much further. Here, the trigger enables him to instantly re-hypnotize these women. And further, it allows control to pass to the person initiating the trigger. It really is remarkable. I have achieved this.....but only after weeks of efforts, and the use of drugs and.....other methods.”
It came to me. “The phone call Arty heard.”
”Yes, Miss Nicodemus answers the phone and is triggered to fall into a compliant trance and to obey. Now we must determine what Dorvak said to her. It almost certainly began with the phrase ‘Barefoot Angie must listen.’ This would be the initial step, followed by a phrase to which she must finish. Tell me again, what did Mr. Nicodemus hear her say.”
I repeat it.
He closes his eyes for a long bit. They open suddenly.
”You said he had a book....a poetry collection?”
Suddenly, he slaps the table. “Ja! I think I know the trigger!”
Just then, the door opens and Angie returns. She catches us staring at her. She frowns:
”What’d I do now?”
”Sorry, Babe.....you surprised us, that’s all.”
She shrugs. “The medicine will be ready in an hour. Anybody else want some joe?” She heads for the kitchen and starts fooling with the coffee pot.
”Sure...that’s sounds great.” I nudge the shrink.
“Umm...yes please, Miss......thank you.”
”I hope you figured out how the cops forged my affidavit. We gotta get the charges dropped against Arty.”
”I’m on it, Babe, I’m on it.” I nudge Volkner again, we gotta see if his trigger works. He takes a deep breath, stands, and walks to the kitchen. Angie keeps blathering.
”Good, if you’d said you still think I actually wrote that crap, I’d make you eat your....
”Ahem...excuse me, Miss Nicodemus?”
She turns, surprised the Doc is behind her.
”Oh, Doctor....can I get you something. You don’t know how much I appreciate the house call. You gotta let me pay...”
“Barefoot Angie must listen.” His voice full of authority.
She frowns.
”I’m sorry....what’d you just say?” The look on her face is a mixture of anger and confusion.
The shrink looks back at me in a panic. I have an idea.
”Angelina. Her name is Angelina, Doc.”
”What’s wrong with you two....we don’t have time for stupid name games. Geez, I...
Volkner interrupts, his voice again commanding:
”Barefoot....Angelina must listen.”
This time, it works. All emotion drains from her face. She drops the bag of coffee, then toes off her shoes. She then takes her socks off by hand, then drops them on the spilled coffee grounds. She then looks directly at Volkner.
He closes his eyes, like he’s straining to remember something. His eyes open, and he says:
“Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness.’
Angie’s eyes now focus on the Doc. She sighs, then says:
“Thou foster-child of silence and slow time.”
I get up and walk over. Volkner passes his hand in front of her face, but she don’t bat an eye. I whisper:
”It worked?”
”There’s no need to whisper, Mr. Dupuis. The lovely Miss is in a very deep, hypnotic state. Mr. Dorvak is a sly boots. The first part is an induction trigger. The poetry exchange transfers command to the speaker. Isn’t that correct, Miss Nicodemus?
”Yes, Master. We have said the words, so I am your slave.”
I don’t like this. It’d been better if she sounds like some soulless zombie. Instead, she sounds like she does right after we make love, sleepy and content. To be fair, what I didn’t like was she was acting this way to Volkner. Part of me couldn’t help wanting to try the trigger on her sometime.
As I mentioned, I’m no angel. I try to steer my head back to business.
“Just what was that mishmash about the bride and foster kid, Doc,”
He laughed. “You Americans...so rich and powerful a country, but so uncultured. It’s the opening to a poem by Keats.....’Ode to a Grecian Urn.’ I guess Dorvak wanted to be clever with Miss Nicodemus.” He turned back to Angie. “Miss Nicodemus...you said you are my slave. What do you understand that to mean?”
She sighed, then says:
”I will see as you say, feel as you say, hear as you say, remember as you say, think as you say, and do as you say.”
”Raise your right foot one inch off the floor.”
She obeys, and stands like that for awhile with no sign of strain.
”Put your foot down now.” Her sole lands on coffee grounds.
He smiles. “Go pour Mr. Dupuis a whiskey....he looks like he needs it.” She pads off to where Arty keeps his booze. The shrink turns back to me. “Tell me, Dupuis, is there anything she would not do, under any circumstances?”
I can think of several. I look at the ice box.
”Bologna. Arty loves it, she hates it...hates having it in her kitchen.”
She comes back and hands a tumbler to me, with all the affection she’d show a bad tipper at the diner.
Volkner has opened the ice box, reaches in, and pulls out a long, uncut bologna sausage.
”Take this, Miss Nicodemus.”
I’m amazed, she takes it without a second thought,
“What are you holding, Miss Nicodemus?”
”It’s bologna, Master.”
“Do you like bologna?”
”I....I don’t know Master? Do you want me to like it?”
’I want you to love it. While you are in this trance, it is your absolute favorite. You crave it. You want nothing more but to have some. Isn’t that right?
She’s eyeing the sausage like it’s the Hope Diamond. “Yessss...I would...so much..”
”Go ahead then. Have at it.”
She tears into it like it’s the first eats she’s had in a month. She’s even eating the casing.
I stand there gaping, then the shrink says:
That’s enough, now. Put it away and come back.”
She obeys.
I gather my wits. I want to know how she got goofed up like this. I tell this to the Doc, and she tells us that when Dorvak did his whispering during the show, he told her that she’d be even easier for him to hypnotize. When I left for the Men’s room, he put her back under and had a Space Girl take her back to the “Initiation Room.” There, they took off her flats and tights then put her feet into a foot bath. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. After that did it’s magic, they planted the Greek Urn trigger, and sent her back to me in the main hall.
I remembered I had a case.....one somebody was paying me for. I took out Patricia Breckinridge’s photo, the one in the cheerleader get up. The Doc asked if she’d seen Patricia in the Initiation Room.
”No, Master...I did not see her there.”
”Did you see her somewhere else?”
She had. After getting home, they called her and, I don’t know.....triggered her and told her to come back. After the Brouhaha with Arty, she was taken to the “Contemplation” Room. That was a similar room except it had headphones for the gals. There, she sat next to Patricia getting her feet soaked.
Volkner looked at her closely, then said. “That is enough, I think, for now. We must tread carefully with her. I will leave a series of post hypnotic suggestions to keep her and her brother safe.”
”Why not....while she’s zapped....remove her trigger?”
”I don’t think that would be wise......The trigger is very deeply planted. We must move carefully, for her sake. Besides, it could be useful later when I begin therapy to free her completely of Dorvak’s influence..”
Look, I’m way out my league here. He’s the expert, so I let it go. He begins commanding Angie. He tells her that she wakes up, she won’t remember being hypnotized. He tells her that she will stay home and care for Arty. She’s not to answer the phone....and she’s not to answer the door for anyone. He tells her not to to even talk to anybody but me and him. He has her give him her apartment key, and I go get Arty’s.
“Yes, Master, I understand.” She dutifully replies. Just once I wish she’d be as agreeable with me.
He tells her to wake, snapping his fingers. She blinks several times, then looks at her feet and the spilled coffee grounds.
”Who the hell messed up my clean kitchen?” I try my best not to snigger.
She begins moving her mouth....like something tastes real bad.
I can’t help myself, I laugh until it hurts.
Before we leave the apartment, I make a “closed for vacation” sign for the Diner. The Doc and I part ways. I gotta admit it, I’m grateful how he came through for Angie and Arty. I thank him, and remind him to tell Norma and Tony P that the Swede is a blabbermouth. We decide that I have to act tonight, now they know I’m involved.
We shake hands, and he drives off. I head to the diner. For a second I think I’m being shadowed. I check twice and don’t catch any tail.
By the time I get to the diner, there’s a small crowd milling about, all wondering when their favorite beanery is opening.. Most them haven’t heard about Arty’s arrest. I leave without answering any questions.
Normally, my nose for danger is pretty good. You get that way in the jungles of the South Pacific or the cold hills of Korea. But I’m not at my best. I’m worried about Angie. I’m even worried about that lug, Arty. Mostly, I’m worried that they might move Patricia and the papers before my visit.
So I’m not ready when the beefy arm pulls me into an alley. I see the flash of two badges, so I’m not too surprised when the billy club comes down on my big, fat, stupid head.