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Chapter XXXIV pgs. 222-224
The next morning, he read the transcripts of Johanna’s interrogations over and over, but nothing popped out at him. Maybe the video tapes would reveal something - some quirk, some pause or some exclamation, to indicate what Johanna was hiding, a way to get into her mind.
With a shudder he pulled out a file of tapes with Johanna’s name on them and dates of interrogation. For some reason he felt repulsed rather than excited at the prospect of listening to them. Then, after fitting a set of headphones over his ears, he loaded the first one into his recorder, pressed “play,” and closed his eyes to better concentrate on the sounds.
A sharp cracking sound. Johanna’s scream. Another crack. Another scream. Then a voice heavy with accent. “You must tell me names. Who talked to you? Who told you secrets?”
“No one. I told you, no one.” There was a note of hysteria in her voice.
The tape went on in the same vein. Not very efficient, thought Alex. For a while the sound of water rushing, as if from a hose, drowned out the words. “Please don’t. No more.”
“The name of your friend in the government.”
“I don’t know.” Her voice broke and stuttered. She was probably shivering.
More water sounded in the background, then coughing and choking. He’d probably poured it down her nose.
“I don’t know.”
“Then I will leave you to remember. Guard, tighten the thongs please.”
“No!”
“The one on her left leg is still loose, no? Tighter. Yes. I think that is good. And more water.”
Metal clanged and a door opened and closed. Footsteps became faint. Then there was only the sound of raspy breathing – probably Johanna’s. He listened for about two minutes to silence broken only by coughing, wheezing and sobs.
In all probability, there were no government informants who had talked to Johanna. Alex should just have here killed and be done with it. He knew that. But in his whole life, he’d never had to admit to being wrong – even to himself. Surely he wasn’t wrong this time. And if there was someone in the CIA or Homeland willing to talk, Alex had to know who it was.
And then, just as Alex was about to turn off the tape recorder, Johanna began to speak.
The words came softly. Even after he’d turned the volume way up, Alex had to strain to hear them.
“Well, God,” she said. “I’m probably going to die soon. So, if you have any compassion let me die – take me as quickly as you can. I can’t be of much use to you stuck like meat tied up for roasting.”
The voice stopped and there was only breathing - a quivering sound as if she were sobbing with each breath. Alex kept the tape recording going. There was something about that voice.
“You forsook Jesus, and now you’re forsaking me. I don’t understand your plan. I don’t know why I’m here. If you won’t get me out of here, at least help me to bear this. Please give me something to hang on to, to keep me from complete despair.”
That’s it, thought Alex. He stopped the tape recorder and smiled. Johanna Jacobson. She was the stupid little girl he had beaten up in kindergarten. How on earth had he forgotten? Alex thought back to the day, trying to remember details. She’d been talking to God, and he’d shoved dirt in her mouth. And she’d bitten him and he’d told her that God didn’t exist, and she’d gone berserk.
He pushed some buttons on his phone. “Ernie? Alex. Arrange for Johanna to get flown back to Heckleweit’s. I know how we can break her.”
`
Chapter XXXIV pgs. 222-224
The next morning, he read the transcripts of Johanna’s interrogations over and over, but nothing popped out at him. Maybe the video tapes would reveal something - some quirk, some pause or some exclamation, to indicate what Johanna was hiding, a way to get into her mind.
With a shudder he pulled out a file of tapes with Johanna’s name on them and dates of interrogation. For some reason he felt repulsed rather than excited at the prospect of listening to them. Then, after fitting a set of headphones over his ears, he loaded the first one into his recorder, pressed “play,” and closed his eyes to better concentrate on the sounds.
A sharp cracking sound. Johanna’s scream. Another crack. Another scream. Then a voice heavy with accent. “You must tell me names. Who talked to you? Who told you secrets?”
“No one. I told you, no one.” There was a note of hysteria in her voice.
The tape went on in the same vein. Not very efficient, thought Alex. For a while the sound of water rushing, as if from a hose, drowned out the words. “Please don’t. No more.”
“The name of your friend in the government.”
“I don’t know.” Her voice broke and stuttered. She was probably shivering.
More water sounded in the background, then coughing and choking. He’d probably poured it down her nose.
“I don’t know.”
“Then I will leave you to remember. Guard, tighten the thongs please.”
“No!”
“The one on her left leg is still loose, no? Tighter. Yes. I think that is good. And more water.”
Metal clanged and a door opened and closed. Footsteps became faint. Then there was only the sound of raspy breathing – probably Johanna’s. He listened for about two minutes to silence broken only by coughing, wheezing and sobs.
In all probability, there were no government informants who had talked to Johanna. Alex should just have here killed and be done with it. He knew that. But in his whole life, he’d never had to admit to being wrong – even to himself. Surely he wasn’t wrong this time. And if there was someone in the CIA or Homeland willing to talk, Alex had to know who it was.
And then, just as Alex was about to turn off the tape recorder, Johanna began to speak.
The words came softly. Even after he’d turned the volume way up, Alex had to strain to hear them.
“Well, God,” she said. “I’m probably going to die soon. So, if you have any compassion let me die – take me as quickly as you can. I can’t be of much use to you stuck like meat tied up for roasting.”
The voice stopped and there was only breathing - a quivering sound as if she were sobbing with each breath. Alex kept the tape recording going. There was something about that voice.
“You forsook Jesus, and now you’re forsaking me. I don’t understand your plan. I don’t know why I’m here. If you won’t get me out of here, at least help me to bear this. Please give me something to hang on to, to keep me from complete despair.”
That’s it, thought Alex. He stopped the tape recorder and smiled. Johanna Jacobson. She was the stupid little girl he had beaten up in kindergarten. How on earth had he forgotten? Alex thought back to the day, trying to remember details. She’d been talking to God, and he’d shoved dirt in her mouth. And she’d bitten him and he’d told her that God didn’t exist, and she’d gone berserk.
He pushed some buttons on his phone. “Ernie? Alex. Arrange for Johanna to get flown back to Heckleweit’s. I know how we can break her.”
`
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