Murder in the CIA by Margaret Truman Page A

corner of the room, the only light on her face coming through a dirty window at the rear of the building.
    “Harriet, this is the doctor I told you about,” Wayman said.
    “Hello,” she said from the corner, her voice small and conveying her nervousness.
    “Hello, Harriet,” Tolker said. He didn’t approach her.Instead, he went to Wayman’s desk and perched on its edge, his fingers affirming the crease in his trousers.
    “Harriet is the person I told you about on the phone,” Wayman said, sitting in a chair next to her. He looked at Tolker, who was illuminated by a gooseneck lamp.
    “Yes, I was impressed,” Tolker said. “Perhaps you’ll tell me a little about yourself, Harriet.”
    She started to talk, then stopped as though the tone arm on a turntable had been lifted from a record. “Who are you?” she asked.
    Wayman answered her in a calm, patient, fatherly voice. “He’s from Washington, and is very much involved in our work.”
    Tolker got up from the desk and approached them. He stood over her and said pleasantly, “I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing, Harriet, very courageous and very patriotic. You should be extremely proud of yourself.”
    “I am … I just … sometimes I become frightened when Dr. Wayman brings other people into it.”
    Tolker laughed. It was a reassuring laugh. He said, “I’d think you’d find that comforting, Harriet. You’re certainly not alone. There are thousands of people involved, every one of them like you, bright, dedicated,
good
people.”
    Tolker saw a small smile form on her face. She said, “I really don’t need a speech, Dr.… what was your name?” Her voice was arrogant, unfriendly, nothing like the sweet quality it had when they’d been introduced.
    “Dr. James. Richard James.” He said to Wayman, “I’d like to see the tests, Bill.”
    “All right.” Wayman placed his hand on Harriet’s hand, which was on the arm of her chair. He said, “Ready, Harriet?”
    “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said in a voice that seemed to come from another person. “It’s showtime, Dr. J-a-m-e-s.”
    Wayman glanced up at Tolker, then said to her in a soothing voice, “Harriet, I want you to roll your eyes up to the top of your head, as far as you can.” He placed his forefinger on her brow and said, “Look up, Harriet.” Tolker leaned forward and peered into her eyes. Wayman said, “That’sright, Harriet, as far as you can.” Her pupils disappeared, leaving only two milky white sockets.
    Tolker nodded at Wayman and smiled.
    Wayman said, “Now, Harriet, I want you to keep your eyes where they are and slowly lower your eyelids. That’s it … very slowly … there you are. You feel very relaxed now, don’t you?” She nodded. “Now, Harriet, your arm, the one I’m touching, feels light, buoyant, as though a dozen helium-filled balloons were attached to it. Let it rise, let it float up. That’s it, that’s wonderful.” Her arm drifted into the air and hung there as though suspended by an invisible wire.
    Wayman turned to Tolker and said, “She’s a perfect ‘five,’ the best I’ve ever seen.”
    Tolker grunted and leaned close to her face. “This is Dr. James, Harriet. How do you feel?”
    “I feel good.”
    “I have something I want to ask you to do.”
    “I … I won’t.”
    Wayman said, “She responds only to me. What do you want her to do?”
    “Learn a phrase, and be told I’m the one she’s to repeat it to.”
    “All right. Harriet, I want you to remember what I’m about to say to you. You’ll never repeat it to anyone else except someone who says to you, ‘The fog is thick.’ All right?”
    “Yes,” she said in a dreamy voice.
    “I want you to remember, ‘There are four people. Two of them are good, and two of them are bad. The bad ones are Bill and Sally.’ Do you understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “When I tell you to come out of the pleasant, relaxed state you’re enjoying now, you’ll remember