Mind Switch (20 page)

Fred said to himself, hey get a grip on yourself, you’re just very tired and not thinking straight. Paul would not commit murder just to get your job. But then Fred remembered Paul or his look-alike being across the street from the bank at the time of the robbery. At least he thought it was Paul. He decided, as illogical as it might be, he would have a more thorough check conducted of Paul’s whereabouts at the time of the robbery and during the break-in at his house. He would have to do it surreptitiously; because if the chief got wind of what Fred was doing, he would never hear the end of it.

Then, Fred remembered, there was one other person from the force who had also entered the house. It was Jim.

At that moment his cell phone rang. Jack Dempsey, Maureen’s stepfather, was on the phone.

“Hi, Jack, aren’t you just about to go on your cruise?”

“That’s what I’m calling about, there’s not going to be any cruise!”

Fred was puzzled, “Why not?” he asked. “I thought we agreed that would be a great escape for Maureen.”

Dempsey sputtered, “That’s just the problem! Maureen is gone! And we have no idea where she is!”

Chapter 37

Fred drove to Jack Dempsey’s home, breaking all speed limits in the process. Less than one hour after he left Sarasota he pulled into their driveway. Jack and his wife Irene were waiting for him on the cement steps of their vintage brick bungalow. Fred wasted no time with social exchanges and learned that Maureen had been missing for over two hours. Her car was also missing from the street in front of the house where it had been parked. Fred asked, “Jack, is it at all possible that she had decided to go to the cruise line’s terminal by herself?”

“No way, her suitcase and cruise ticket are still in her room. Besides, I called the cruise line, and she never checked in.”

“How on earth could she have left the house without being noticed?”

“Both Irene and I had been busy packing and our bedroom door had been closed. While we were getting ready, we assumed Maureen was doing the same. Later, Irene knocked on her door, but got no answer. When we entered her room, we found a packed suitcase but no sign of Maureen.”

“Is it possible she just went out on an errand?”

“No, she knew we were leaving within the half hour and had no time for an errand. As you know, Maureen is very responsible.”

Fred asked, “My God, do you think she has been abducted?”

Jack said “I don’t know but it doesn’t make sense that Maureen would have left of her own free will. She had been looking forward to the cruise just as much as her mother and I.”

In the background Maureen’s mother was sobbing silently. Projecting artificial confidence, Fred said, “Irene, don’t worry, we’ll find her. It shouldn’t take any time before someone spots her car. Just one more question, had you locked all your doors like I told you to?”

Jack said sheepishly, “No, I guess I forgot. As you know, we never lock our doors in this neighborhood.”

“I understand,” Fred said, “but criminals can visit from other areas, there’s no 100 foot wall around your community.”

Jack was silent but his eyes belied his feelings. Of course, Jack said to himself, his failure had been stupid, and might have led to Maureen being in danger.
 

Fred regretted his comment just as he uttered it. He quickly added, “Don’t worry, Jack. We will find her.”

At that point Fred realized that he too had made a major error. When he dropped Maureen off, he had driven to Jack’s house with Maureen following directly behind. If the person who had been in his house had remained nearby at the time he and Maureen had left, that person most likely followed them straight to Jack’s house. Even more stupid on my part, Fred thought, was the fact that I had Maureen trail me. Maureen would have no clue that someone was following her car. I made the major mistake of not letting Maureen go first.

Fred contacted the local Tampa police. Upon their arrival at the house he told them about Maureen’s suspected abduction. He knew that in the case of missing persons, a minimum time frame must be met before the police normally will become involved. However, with the supporting circumstances of the attempt on Fred’s life, they agreed to put out an all points bulletin. Fred also requested that they fingerprint the home for any prints that did not belong there. Then he told Jack and Irene, if Maureen showed up in the interim to call him on his cell phone immediately. Satisfied that all was being done that could be done, he left for Sarasota.

On his way back, Fred found it hard to concentrate on anything. He wondered if the murderer was trying to get to him by kidnapping Maureen. At the same time it made no sense that the kidnapper would take Maureen in her own car. If someone had entered the house to abduct Maureen, they would not take the time to make sure Maureen had her car keys with her. Any commotion whatsoever would have alerted her parents. On the other hand, if someone abducted Maureen while she was going to her car, with keys in hand, he would have to have been hanging out in the neighborhood during daylight hours waiting for the perfect time to strike. That would have made neighbors very suspicious in an established area where everyone knew everybody else. Nothing made sense to Fred.

Fred returned to his office to await any word on the status of Maureen. Two hours went by and nothing. He was exhausted from fear as he called Maureen’s parents to see if anything had materialized. “No word,” they said. “The neighbors were all contacted and they saw nothing.” Jack indicated that the fingerprint men were there from the Tampa Police, but they said it would take a day at least to go over all the fingerprints in the home.

Fred said, “Jack, I’m totally exhausted and don’t have the energy to make the drive home. I’m going to get a room at the nearby Holiday Inn. Please call me on my cell phone if anything comes up, regardless of the hour.”

Fred spent a restless night. When he woke at six a.m., his mind was still on Maureen. At first he reasoned that maybe Maureen had decided to obtain some sort of bon voyage gift for her parents and ran into some type of car trouble. As his mind cleared, he reasoned that such a possibility didn’t make sense. She could have contacted her parents by phone and certainly would have been in touch with them by now.

He checked in with the Dempseys just a few minutes later—no change in status from the night before. Fred then returned to his house for a change of clothes. He took a shower and, after dressing, he looked on the vanity for his comb. Hell, I can’t even find a comb in the house let alone find a murderer and a kidnapper, he thought in despair. He went over to Maureen’s night table; when he opened the drawer to get a comb, he noticed a business card tucked under her jewelry. It read Harry Ford—Hypnotist. Fred immediately recognized the name. It was the same name as Mrs. Emperor’s therapist!

Fred looked in the phone directory for a residential address for Ford—none was listed. Well, at least, I have his business address, he thought. After setting his new house alarm, he headed to Ford’s office. On the way, Fred went over in his mind what he should say. It was most likely that it was a coincidence that Ford had treated both Maureen and the victim of the Longboat Key jewelry theft. Fred remembered that Maureen was having trouble sleeping, and perhaps Ford had been recommended by one of her associates. And if he had a good reputation, it wouldn’t have been unlikely that many people in the community sought his services. Nevertheless, Fred decided that he would not identify himself as a cop when he spoke to Ford. He placed his badge in the glove compartment. Perhaps posing as a potential patient, he could find out more about Ford and his practice.

Fred parked his car on an adjacent street, and walked to the office. At that same moment Ford was parking his car across the street from his office. Ford had noticed Fred as he went up Ford’s office steps. Even though Fred was dressed in civilian attire, Ford knew immediately that he was a cop. Ford had spent a decade evading the law and during that period he had studied their habits, their movements, their style and their dress code. They all seemed to display an air of authority to the public whether they felt that way or not. Ford could smell a cop a mile away; and this was definitely a cop who was about to knock on his door.

Ford at first decided to run. Somehow he had to find a way to quickly get rid of his package, as he euphemistically called it. And he had to quickly clear out his trailer being sure not to leave any traces. Although his address at the trailer park would be somewhat difficult for the cops to trace, it wouldn’t be impossible. All of his efforts to keep a low profile would only serve to buy a little more time for his escape. It would only be a short time before the cops would come knocking on my door at the trailer park, he thought.

On second thought, Ford pondered, what could the cops know? He had covered his tracks flawlessly. Whatever this cop is here for, at best he’s just probing.

Feeling more at ease, Ford rolled down his window and yelled across the street to Fred, “Hi, sorry, but I’m running late. Give me a second and I’ll be right with you.”

Ford jogged across the street, unlocked the office door and invited Fred in. The office was spartanly decorated; its appointments would not make a monk envious. It contained a couple of well padded soft cotton chairs which were becoming frayed on both their backs and bottoms. A small, thin veneered, maple coffee table was placed in front of the chairs. The table vividly showed its age and was decorated with numerous cigarette burns.

Obviously, Ford had a lot of compulsive smokers as customers, Fred thought. The walls contained generic oil paintings, all reflecting seaside scenes. Ford had unlocked his desk and was pulling out a blank yellow legal pad. He removed a ball point pen from the center desk drawer and again apologized for the delay. He asked Fred what he could do for him.

Fred said, “Well, first, I’m a bit confused. Are you a hypnotist or a therapist? I noticed that you advertise both ways in the yellow pages.”

“My expertise falls in both areas, sir. What is your specific problem?”

“Unfortunately, I have more than one. What types of problems do you treat?”

Ford smiled and thought to himself, this bastard is not even identifying himself as a cop, and he’s trying to draw me out by posing as a potential patient. Interesting, I’ll have him play my game. Ford put his pen down and explained the types of addictions and neurotic conditions that he treated. He quickly ended with a summary of his successes. Ford had not distorted or exaggerated anything, because as a professional hypnotist he knew that he was extremely effective.

Ford then went into his file cabinet and provided Ford with some letters from satisfied customers. All of the letters were legitimate; no matter how hard this smart cop would try, Ford thought, he won’t find any clues to my real intent.

Ford said, “Look, I know you may be concerned about my ability to deal with your problem whatever it might be. Many of my patients have felt the same way. The letters I have handed you have been sent to me by my patients. They represent the spectrum of the various types of behavior problems I deal with. In each case the patient has been so satisfied with my treatment that they authorized me to provide their names. They also indicated they would be happy to talk to anyone about how successfully I treated them.”

Ford added, “I insist, before I attempt to treat you, please go home, read the letters, and contact any of the patients in the batch of letters, especially those that experienced a problem that corresponds to what you are suffering from. Then, when you feel more at ease about my capability to treat you, give me a call and I’ll be happy to set up an appointment.”

Fred was caught off guard. He was not sure at this point whether to reveal the fact that he was a cop or continue with the subterfuge. He said, “Well, to tell you the truth, I told my neighbor Mrs. Emperor about the problems I have been having, and she recommended me to you.”

Ford hardly blinked. “Oh, yes, Mrs. Emperor, a delightful woman, she lives on Longboat Key, as I recall. As you can understand, Mr. Harris, professional protocol precludes me from going into any detail about her condition, because unfortunately she has not authorized me to divulge anything about my treatment of her to any outside party. I am sorry, I hope you understand.” Fred was summarily dismissed with Ford’s closing statement—“Please contact me again when you feel that you’re ready to commit to my treatment. Take the letters, and have a good day.”

Fred had not gotten anywhere. He did have some letters that he would check out with the authors, but he would bet they were all on the level. At this stage he didn’t want to divulge the fact that he was on the police force. He “accidentally” opened the wrong door to exit. He glanced about the room. A single chair and a leather couch as well as a bookcase were the only appointments in the room. A door was opened at the end of the room which revealed a toilet and sink. He noted that there were no other rooms in the office. He muttered, “Sorry, wrong door.” He thanked Ford for his time and said he would be back.

Fred was happy to leave the office, for his splitting headache had suddenly returned. Strange, he thought, I have never had such headaches in the past. I guess they’re related to these frustrating cases I’m working on, compounded by Maureen’s disappearance. But deep inside he feared there was another much more ominous reason for the severe headaches.

* * *

Fred knocked on some of the neighbors’ doors. In all cases they were medical and dental offices; none of the professionals knew Ford or anything about his practice. He wasn’t sure what his next step would be with Ford, but his gut told him this guy was not what he made himself out to be. What professional discourages a prospective patient’s business and tells them to check out his credentials from past and current patients before he himself could become one? Most business men understand that the first few minutes are critical in obtaining an agreement with a potential customer. Based on the outfitting of his office, Ford did not seem to have the luxury to summarily dismiss prospective patients. What Fred needed was a wire or hidden camera to clandestinely record Ford’s actions to reveal what he was actually doing during his practice. However, to be legal that would require court authorization; and right now, he knew he had no justification to get such action approved, even from a friendly judge.