“The only reason you know what I’m thinking, Stephen, is because I already told you this was a waste of time.”
“You didn’t offer anything better. So just-just shut the fuck up.”
Allman shook his head, then waved a hand. “Whatever.”
Scheer walked off, down the block.
Maybe involving these guys wasn’t such a great idea. Vail headed into the bank and locked gazes with Dixon and Burden, who shook their heads. A man in a suit standing with them looked puzzled by all the attention, while several customers at the teller window looked on with concern.
“We got nothing,” Burden said.
Vail’s phone vibrated. I don’t want to look. She pulled it from her belt. Dixon and Burden huddled around her.
no nono
ur friends life depends on it but ur clueless
those intended to heal
may give life but drown truth
cant sink or swim can float
mission st
clocks ticking
figure it out or im done with you
“No.” Burden shook his head. “I’m done playing games.”
“Burden,” Vail said in a low voice. “We talked about this. Psychopaths get off on feeling superior. And they get bored easily. This is a game to him, to prove to us-and to himself-how much smarter he is. By tricking us, he’s able to gloat. It builds him up and knocks us down. At the same time, we’ve gotta make some headway in these clues to hold his interest. If we don’t prove a worthy challenge, we’ll lose him. And if we lose contact with him, we lose any shot at finding Robert.”
“C’mon,” Dixon said, then led the way outside.
Burden slammed the door with his hands and it flew open. He let it swing closed behind him, nearly striking Vail in the face. “Asshole better realize I’m losing patience, too.”
“What’s on Mission?” Vail asked.
Allman and Scheer came jogging over from opposite directions.
Burden threw open his car door. “Lots of things are on Mission.”
“Let’s take a minute, break it down.”
“We get another message?” Allman asked.
Vail held it up for the two reporters to read.
“What’s ‘intended to heal’?” Dixon asked. “A medical clinic? A doctor? Surgeon? Acupuncturist? Chiropractor?”
Burden shook his head. “Probably all of that on Mission. It’s a long freaking street. You’ve got businesses, seedy areas, banks, office buildings, a BART station-”
“Then let’s go to the next clue,” Vail said. “May give life but drown truth. Doctors give life. We’re back to doctors.”
“God gives life,” Allman said. “Strictly speaking. If you’re a religious sort.”
“A church?” Dixon asked. “Doesn’t fit with drowning the truth.”
“Now there’s a whole other philosophical question,” Allman said.
“Hell with philosophy,” Burden said. “Forget religion. None of that fits. Read the rest. What’s it say? Can’t sink or swim, but you can float?”
“A bath tub,” Scheer said. “Too small to sink or swim in. But you can float.”
Burden gave him a dirty look.
“Hey, I was wrong about the bank. I get that. But what do you want from me? I’m just trying to help.”
Vail held up a hand. “Let’s go with that.” She checked her watch. How much time they had left, she had no idea. “A mud bath. You can’t sink, you can’t swim in it, but you can float in it.”
“No mud baths around here that I know of,” Dixon said. “Back home in Calistoga, but nothing here in the city. You guys know of any?”
Allman, Burden and Scheer shook their heads.
“Wait a minute,” Dixon said. “Float. You can’t sink in a flotation tank. And you can’t swim in it, but you do float because of the salts.”
“Come again?” Vail said.
“Alternative medicine clinics. There are a couple on Mission, I think. They put you in sensory deprivation tanks. You float in heavily salted water for hours.”
Vail shuddered while thumbing her BlackBerry. “That would definitely creep me out. Why would someone want to do that?”
“Didn’t the Trib do a story on that once?” Burden asked.
“A few years back,” Allman said. “When that sort of thing was big.”
Dixon held up her iPhone. “It’s supposed to reduce the levels of stress hormones in the body, according to Wikipedia.”
“There’s the medical angle,” Vail said.
Dixon tapped and scrolled. “We’ve got one on Mission. SDL Incorporated-Sensory Deprivation Lab, 2944 Mission.”
“Let’s go.” Burden got into the car, twisted the key and turned over the engine.
SENSORY DEPRIVATION LAB’S FACILITY STOOD in a nondescript brick building that looked like it had been a remnant from decades past. They entered through worn wood doors and consulted a posted sign that directed them to Suite 201.
Vail held out a hand. “Why don’t you two wait down here.”
Allman tilted his head. “But-”
“There’s no reason for you to come up. This is still an investigation. If we’re on the right track, we’ll let you know. If not, we’ll be back down in a couple minutes because we-and Inspector Friedberg-will be in deep shit.”
Neither Allman nor Scheer appeared pleased with this arrangement- or they were not happy with the prospect of having to keep one another company while they waited.
“I’m gonna go take a walk,” Scheer said.
That answers that question.
Vail encouraged Burden and Dixon to take the stairs, and moments
