Memory Man

“We approach things from a wider perspective. Yes, our primary focus is research into minds that are or have become extraordinary through various factors. But we also are medical doctors. The patients we saw, like Belinda and also Amos, had suffered serious trauma, which in turn caused enormous changes inside their minds. We needed to know their complete medical histories so that we could better understand what had caused the changes and also, we hoped, help them cope with what was essentially a new life.” He looked at Decker. “I know we never did any follow-up with you, Amos. That was a gap in our procedures that we have since rectified. Simply because you leave us physically does not mean we cannot continue to support you.”

“Your help was much appreciated,” said Decker. “It enabled me to cope on my own.”

“I’m so glad to hear you say that. Now, in Belinda’s case it was quite evident to us that she was a special case even had she not suffered what she did. I had frank discussions with the doctor in Utah who had seen her and given the preliminary diagnosis of her condition. It’s a total package, particularly when one is dealing with the mind, so we needed to understand everything. And her parents had no objection. I think they wanted to wash their hands of it,” he added with a grimace.

“Did Belinda receive an operation that made her a man?” asked Decker.

“I don’t know. She did not have such a procedure before or while she was here, that is for certain.”

“Have you heard from her since she left here?”

“Not a word.”

“Do you have an address for Belinda?” asked Decker.

“No.”

“Her parents?”

“In the file, yes, but it’s fifteen years old.”

Decker said, “We’ll take it.”

Chapter 52

Decker sat at the table, looking out the window. Jamison sat across from him, watching him nervously.

In an effort to lighten the mood, she said, “Okay, I have to admit, this beats my Suzuki.”

“You mean your clown car,” commented Decker, still peering out the window.

They were traveling at forty-one thousand feet and well over five hundred miles an hour in the Bureau’s sleek tri-engine Falcon.

He looked up when Bogart placed cups of coffee in front of him and Jamison, then sat down across from him. The FBI agent unbuttoned his jacket and took a sip from his own cup.

Jamison looked around the plush interior. “Nice ride.”

Bogart nodded. “The FBI pulls out all the stops for cases like this.” He eyed Decker, who was still staring out the window.

“So you took a hit on the football field and it changed your life forever?”

“It changed my brain, and with it my life.”

“And again, you don’t want to talk about it?”

Decker said nothing.

“What do you think we’ll find at the Wyatts’ house in Colorado?” asked Jamison, peering anxiously between the two men.

Decker said, “Whatever we find will tell us something we didn’t know before. And it will get us one step closer to Belinda Wyatt.”

Bogart took another sip of coffee. “What made you look in Wyatt’s direction? We were searching for a man and she’s a woman, or she was when you knew her.”

In answer Decker opened the laptop in front of him and spun it around so Bogart could see the screen. Then he ran the video.

Bogart looked at the frames and then turned back to Decker.

“Okay, it’s a woman getting out of a car. The waitress from the bar. Leopold’s accomplice. Maybe this Belinda Wyatt person. She certainly looks like a woman to me.”

“Did you notice how the person got out of the car?”

Bogart glanced at the screen. “You said it was a guy masquerading as a woman. But now that we know Wyatt has this intersex condition, we don’t really know what she is, male or female. So it could just be her being a woman because she is a woman. Maybe she never had the operation.”

“That’s right. She may be exactly what she was twenty years ago. We know Leopold couldn’t have committed the murders. If Wyatt is involved with him, that leaves her. She’s the shooter.”

“Okay, but I’m not getting what you mean about her climbing out of the car. She swung her legs out and stood up. Like a girl or a guy would.”

“No, not like a guy would. Nothing like a guy would.”

“I’m not following.”

“Turn to the side and stand up, like you’re getting out of a car.”

“What, now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Decker!”

“Just do it.”

Bogart looked put out, but he turned to his side and put his legs out into the aisle. He was about to stand when Decker stopped him.

“Look at your legs.”

Bogart stared down at his splayed legs. “What about them? I swung them out into the aisle, which I have to do in order to stand up. The person on the screen did the exact same thing.”

“Look at the distance between your thighs.”

Bogart stared down at the large gap between his legs. “So what?”

“Look at the screen.”

Bogart glanced at the screen. There the person’s thighs were nearly touching.

“Look at the hand,” added Decker.

Bogart looked at the person’s hand. It was knifed into the narrow crevice between the thighs, edging the skirt down.

“Your legs were spread out and your hand was nowhere near your legs.”