He watched him but he didn’t move, which was good.

“Okay, now I’m going to take a balloon that’s full of helium and tie the string to your left hand. I’m tying it on now. There, the balloon is tied to your wrist, James, and I’m letting go of it.”

Immediately, Noone’s left arm began to rise until it was stretched upward, his hand up higher than his head. McCaleb just watched. And after half a minute Noone’s arm showed no indication of tiring.

“Okay, James, I have a pair of scissors and I’m going to cut the string.”

McCaleb reached back to the table and lifted the scissors. He opened them and closed them sharply on the imaginary string. Noone’s arm dropped back into his lap. McCaleb looked over at Winston and nodded.

“Okay, James, you are very relaxed and nothing is bothering you. I want you to picture in your mind that you’re walking on that beach and you come to a garden. The garden is green and lush and beautiful and there are flowers and birds singing. It is so beautiful and peaceful. You’ve never been in any spot as peaceful as this. Now… you walk through the garden and come to a small building with a set of doors. They’re elevator doors, James. They’re made of wood with gold trim around the edges and they’re beautiful. Everything here is beautiful.

“The doors open, James, and you step on the elevator because you know it takes you down to your special room. A room where nobody else can go. Only you can go down there and you are in total peace when you go there.”

McCaleb got up and stood in front of Noone, just a few feet away. Noone showed no outward sign of acknowledging the close presence of another person.

“The elevator buttons show you are on number ten and you have to go down to your room on number one. You push the button, James, and the elevator starts to go down. You are feeling more relaxed as each floor goes by.”

McCaleb raised his arm and held it parallel to the ground and a foot in front of Noone’s face. He then began raising it, bringing it back around and then up again. He knew the disturbance the motion would make in the light hitting Noone’s eyelids would add to his sense of descent.

“You’re going down, James. Deeper and deeper. That’s the ninth floor… now the eighth, and seven… You are getting deeper and deeper, more and more relaxed. The sixth floor just went by… now the fifth… four… three… two… and one… The doors open now and you step into your special room. You’re there, James, and in perfect peace.”

McCaleb went back to his chair. He then told Noone to enter his room and that the most comfortable chair in the world was waiting for him there. He told him to sit down and just melt into the chair. He told him to imagine a pat of butter melting in a frying pan on very low heat.

“No sizzle, just a slow, slow melting. That’s you, James. Just melting into your chair.”

He waited a few moments and then told Noone about the television that was sitting right in front of him. “You’ve got the remote control in your hand. And this is a special television with a special remote. You can watch whatever you want to on this TV. You can back the picture up, go forward, zoom in or pull back out. Whatever you want to do with it, you can do. Now, turn it on, James. And what we’re going to watch on that special TV right now is what you saw on the night of January twenty-second when you were going to the bank in Lancaster to get some money.”

He waited a beat.

“Turn the TV on, James. Is it on now?”

“Yes,” Noone said, his first words in a half hour.

“Okay, good. Now we’re going to go back to that night, James. Now tell us what you saw.”

17

JAMES NOONE TOLD his story as if McCaleb and Winston were there riding with him in his car, if not his head.

“I have the blinker on and I’m turning in. Here he comes! Brakes! He’s going to-he almost hit me, the asshole! I could’ve-”

Noone raised his left arm, made a fist and shot his middle finger up, an impotent gesture at the driver of the car that had blasted by him. As he did this, McCaleb looked closely at his face, noting the rapid eye movement behind his closed lids. It was one of the indicators he always looked for, a sign that the subject was deeply into the trance.

“He’s gone and I’m pulling in now. I see, I see the man. There is a man on the ground under the light. By the ATM. He’s down-I’m getting out and check to see… there’s blood. He’s shot-somebody shot him. Uh, uh, I’ve got to get somebody-I’m going back to my car for the phone. I can call and get him help. He’s shot. There’s blood on the… it’s everywhere.”

“Okay, James, okay,” McCaleb said, interrupting him for the first time. “That’s good. Now what I want you to do is take your special remote and back up the picture on the TV until the point that you first see the car coming out of the bank’s parking lot. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, are you there?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, now start it again, only this time run it in slow motion. Very slow, so you can see everything. Are you running it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I want you to freeze it when you get the best view of the car coming at you.”

McCaleb waited.

“Okay, I got it.”

“Okay, good. Can you tell us what kind of car it is?”

“Yes. Black Cherokee. It’s pretty dusty.”

“Can you tell what year?”

“No, it’s the newer kind. The Grand Cherokee.”

“Can you see the side of the Cherokee?”

“Yes.”

“How many doors?”

It was a small test to make sure Noone was reporting what he had seen, not what he had been told. McCaleb remembered from the crime scene tape that the deputy who had first interviewed Noone had told him the newer styling on the Cherokee indicated it was the Grand Cherokee model. McCaleb had to confirm the identification of the vehicle and he knew the Grand Cherokee came only in a four-door model.

“Um, two on the side,” Noone said. “It’s a four-door.”

“Good. Now come around to the front. Do you see any damage to the car. Any dents or noticeable scratches?”

“No.”

“Is there any striping on the car?”

“Mmm, no.”

“How about the bumper? Can you see the front bumper?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I want you to take your remote and zoom in on that bumper. Can you see the license plate?”

“No.”

“Why not, James?”

“It’s covered.”

“What’s covering it?”

“Uh, there’s a T-shirt on it. It’s wrapped around the bumper so it covers the plate. Looks like a T-shirt.”

McCaleb glanced over at Winston and could see the disappointment on her face. He pressed on.

“Okay, James, take your remote and zoom up into the car, can you do that?”

“Okay.”

“How many people are in that Cherokee?”

“One. The driver.”

“All right, zoom in on him. Tell me what you see.”

“Can’t really.”

“Why not? What’s wrong?”

“The lights. He’s got the brights on. The glare is too much, I can’t-”

“Okay, James, what I want you to do is take the remote and move the picture. Go back and forth until you have the best view of the driver. Tell me when you have that.”

McCaleb looked back at Winston and she looked back with raised eyebrows. They both knew that they would soon find out if this had been worth it or not.

“Okay,” James said.

“Okay, you’re seeing the driver.”

“Yes.”

“Tell us what he looks like. What color is his skin?”

“He’s white but he has a hat and the brim is down. He’s looking downward and the brim covers his face.”

“All of his face?”

“No. I see his mouth.”

“Does he have a beard or mustache?”

“No.”

“Can you see his teeth?”

“No, his mouth is closed.”

“Can you see his eyes?”

“No. That hat is in the way.”

McCaleb sat back and released his breath in frustration. He couldn’t believe this. Noone was a perfect subject. He was in a deep trance and yet they couldn’t get from him what they needed, a direct look at the shooter.