Chapter 3: Part 2: Laura is mine but it’s not enough.

Laura woke up in bed with me the next morning, We showered and shaved together. Yes, women shave too, and Laura likes to keep it nice and smooth down there which I really appreciate, So I borrowed a BIC and shaved too. We spent the next day apart from each other, me working on the case. Laura ... I mean Detective Martinez ... had some forensic evidence to look over. I know very little about forensics, so I decided to do some poking about own on my own. I was able to convince the Chicago Police Department to loan me a car out of their pool, the FBI wouldn’t loan me one since I was officially on leave. CPD lent me a souped-up unmarked undercover sedan. I popped a 8-track cassette tape of Eric Clapton’s, The Cream Of Clapton album, which I had bought at my hotel’s gift shop, in the car’s tape player and started on a list of hypnotist I had made from looking through the telephone Yellow Book.

My first stop was a nightclub, that frequently had touring hypnotists perform there. The manager said that none had been through for about a month. He also told me the club was trying to change its image and turn itself into a college dance club spot.

“Do you know any hypnotists in town? Particularly someone into domination fantasies or anything?” I finally asked him before I left.

“I don’t know man. That’s really not my thing, you know. Hypnotists, magicians, Smashing Pumpkin cover bands; they bring people through the door, right. There was this one chick that is local that we had once. Madame something or other. Really into sick stuff man, we had to cut her show off half way through because it was too twisted man. We wouldn’t pay her, so she threatened to turn my mind to pudding or something. So I paid her. A couple hundred really isn’t worth having some weird goth chick stalking you, you know man.” He told me and shrugged.

I agreed with him that it wasn’t worth it, and then I asked if he had any contact information on her. He nodded yes, and dug a receipt out from under a pile of papers. The name on the invoice was Madame Dark. The invoice also had her home address.

The address turned out to be a typical suburban home, complete with a white picket fence and all the other little frilly things that seem to go with the white picket fence. I rang the doorbell on the front porch and the door was answered by June Cleaver, the mom from the old black and white TV series Leave It To Beaver. Okay, so it wasn’t actually her, but basically if you take that wholesome image and add a little color, that’s who opened the door.

“Can I help you?” The June Cleaver look-a-like answered the door and asked.

“Yes, I’m looking for a Madame Dark.” I answered her.

“Sorry I don’t know anyone by that name.” June answered back. The mailbox by the road had said Richardson, so I took an intuitive leap,

“Look Mrs. Richardson, I’m with the FBI. My name is Agent Morgan and I’m working on a series of murder cases. Or a case of a serial murder actually. I’m working on a long shot here, but I’m trying to find a local hypnotists who is into domination and S&M practices.” I started my questions.

“Well ... I don’t know what to say officer. I don’t know anything about hypnotism or S&M. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you Agent Morgan.” Mrs. Richardson, aka Joan Clever answered back innocently.

‘The thing is that this invoice from a hypnotist named Madame Dark has your address on it.” I said fishing the invoice out of my pocket, She looked at the invoice.

“This handwriting looks familiar. Do come in officer.” She directed me.

I followed her into the house. She told me to sit down in the chair and said she just had to go upstairs for a minute. I sat down and opened up a fashion magazine that was laying on the coffee table. About five or ten minutes passed when a young woman in a dark gray one piece knit dress with a nice curvy body and long dark brown hair came walking down the stairs. Think Jenna Ortega, who played Wednesday, the Addams family’s oldest child. 5 foot 1, 103 pounds, 33-23-31, Bra size: 34A.

“Hello Agent Morgan, what can I help you with.” She asked when she finally faced me.

“I’m sorry Miss, but you seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I don’t know who you are. And where is Mrs. Richardson?” I asked, no, I didn’t demand.

“My mother is just resting in her room. All of a sudden she got quite sleepy, it happens sometimes doesn’t it?” She said, fixing her large brown eyes on mine.

“People just feel so tired and heavy all of a sudden. Isn’t that right Agent Morgan?” She started.

“I’m sure it can happen under special circumstances Miss ... Miss ... now do you know anything about a hypnotist named Madame Dark?” I started my question again.

“I’m sorry, my mother didn’t offer you a drink. Would you like something, or aren’t you allowed to drink on duty Agent?” She inquired.

“To be honest I’m not too sure if I am or not, so I’ll take a double of whatever you’re serving.” I decided to go with the flow as they say.

“Great, why don’t you just relax there for a minute and I’ll be right back.” She told me turning around and going into the kitchen. It was real easy on the eyes to watch her swaying hips walk away.

She left the room, and I watched her ass sway interestedly as she went. Once she was out of sight I slipped a small flat brown envelope of pills from my inside coat pocket, took one out and swallowed it dry. It was something the FBI, really the NSA I understand, had developed to counter the effects of most of the more popular knockout drugs floating around out there. It also works great to cancel the effects of alcohol I was told. The Bureau were sure no fun I was learning.

Yes, I had noticed that the yet unnamed girl had been starting a hypnotic induction, and yes, I had the feeling that she was behind her mother’s getting very sleepy and not being able to return to the living room. I also figured that what she went to do was slip something into my drink to help her help me get very, very, sleepy as well.

“I had hoped to offer you a little something more, but it seems gin and coke is all we have Agent.” She said when she returned with two glasses and handed me one.

“I never argue with free.” I said and shrugged as I took a sip, and yes, it was definitely drugged. The bitter taste of the drug, whatever it was, was quite evident to anyone who knew anything about the taste of gin and coke. Not that I’m an expert you understand.

“Just finish that drink off where we can talk. I just have to go get something. I’ll be right back.” She said as she left the room again. I nodded back and watched her go. Once she was out of sight I poured the drink into a plant box beside the couch. Even though I had taken the anti-drug drug (that’s a mouthful) I was still a little dubious on its effectiveness and why tempt fate.

“Now what was it that you wanted to ask me?” The girl returned, and sat down beside me on the couch this time, and started again.

“Nothing in particular. Actually I was looking for a hypnotist named Madame Dark. Do you know anything about her?” I asked innocently.

“I’ve heard of her, in fact I just brought down a video tape from one of her shows that I thought you might like to see.” She stood up and walked across the room to where there was a television and VCR. She put the VHS tape in the machine and turned it and the TV on. Then as the VHS tape began she walked back towards me, going behind the couch so she was standing right behind me. The VHS tape began. At first it was dark, and then a pulsing spiral appeared on the screen, turning slowly. Suddenly I heard the girl’s voice behind me,

“This is just the intro to the show. Just watch it very carefully. Isn’t it fascinating how the spiral never seems to end? I bet you could watch it very closely. I bet if you focused on it and relaxed, you would see it’s like one of those paintings with the hidden pictures, that you would learn exactly what you wanted to know. I bet you feel so relaxed, and that drink made you feel so sleepy. Heavy and sleepy.” Suddenly I felt her massaging my temples in rhythmic circles. She learned close to my ear and began to purr, “Submit, sleep, slowly, spiral, submit...”

I cut her off, “I ordered this spiral once. You got it from the back of a magic tricks catalogue didn’t you? Or is there a specialty shop in town that sells these kinds of things? Is this the one you can order with the subliminals of your choice? I have to say I like the massage, though with hands like yours it seems a shame to waste them on my temples.” I told her as she continued the massage.

“Look deeper, you can’t resist my voice, you can’t... “ She actually pushed harder on my temples, giving me a bit of a headache,

“You’re too negative baby, make your induction more positive. Saying that I want to submit is better than saying I can’t resist. That’s just some friendly professional advice that may help kid. Now, how about you quit trying to push my head in, and sit down and answer some questions young lady.” I finally told her. She took her hands off of my head, and then sat ... flounced ... down in her chair. She looked at me angrily for a few minutes before saying anything else.

“OK, who the hell are you?” She finally demanded after her pouting.

“No, we’ve been over that already. The question is who are you?” I demanded.

“Madame Dark.” She admitted.

“Not a very good name. Especially for someone who looks like they were head cheerleader back in high school not long ago. What’s your real name?” I started.

“Carla Richardson. Now, who the hell are you, and what do you want from me?” She whined.

“You’ve just tried to hypnotize an official Federal FBI Agent young lady, I think I get to ask the questions here now. Why did you try to hypnotize me?” I asked ... demanded?

“I thought maybe one of my clients sent you. Plus I wanted to fuck you.” She answered and admitted?

“I like the second answer better, but why would one of your clients send me?” I wanted to know.

“Some of them get off on having me hypnotize them and then making them think ... believe ... that I coerced them into having sex with me through hypnosis. Basically they agree to the sex first, then I hypnotize them into thinking that I hypnotized them into having sex with me against their will. I used to do that, but it got too fucking hard to convince them that they’d wanted the sex in the first place. So I quit that about a month ago. I thought that maybe one of them called you ... well, the FBI anyway. They didn’t did they?” She explained and then asked nicely.

“No. How come you don’t look like the Madame Dark the owner of the club described for me?” I asked next.

“What club? Which one? I wear a wig and dress like a goth when I’m working. It makes me look more domineering I like to think. The subjects buy into the act easier that way.” She explained.

“Why did you threaten to turn the club owner’s brain into pudding?” I asked next, but I already had a pretty good idea why.

“Oh, that club! I couldn’t think of anything else to do. He refused to pay me, even though he knew the show was going to be racy. I wasn’t about to call a lawyer and I did get the money after that.” She chuckled.

“What’s your take on fossil fuels?” I regarded her for a moment and asked.

“I don’t know. I like them I guess. Why?” She shrugged.

“Several oil company executives have been murdered in town. Have you heard about that?” I questioned her.

“Yeah I guess I’ve seen it on the news. What’s this got to do with me?” She wanted to know.

“I believe they were hypnotized to death.” I told her honestly.

“Hypnotized to death?” She questioned skeptically.

“Yeah, they all stopped breathing suddenly, and for no apparent reason whatsoever. I think someone in town has been hypnotizing them into doing that.” I explained.

“So you think I did it?” She wanted to know next.

“Not necessarily. However your name is the first one on a list of hypnotists in town. You also being a hypno fetish hypnotist may know something. Do you? Anything at all weird in the local hypnosis community in the last few weeks or months?” I asked.

“That’s it!” She gasped out loud.

“What’s it?” I demanded.

“A few months ago there were these posters in all the local fetish shops in town and on all the hypno fetish sites on the Internet about an opportunity for local fetish hypnotists. It promised big money, and all you had to do is phone this number they were handing out. So I phoned the number and a man was on the other end. We made a meeting time and place when he could discuss a very important job with me. But when the meeting time came up I decided not to go and stayed home and watched a movie video instead.” She explained.

“Okay.” I pushed.

“But the thing is the next day I was writing in my diary, and yes I keep a very meticulous diary Mister FBI Agent Morgan. The previous day I had written in my diary, “Off to the important meeting now” in it. The problem is I didn’t remember writing it, and I wouldn’t have written it if I had decided not to go to the meeting.” She explained.

“So you think you went, but just don’t remember going?” I questioned her.

“That’s what I thought, but I never could prove it until now. I’m positive I remember watching the movie video, but that could have been planted. I’ve done similar things to my hypnotized subjects.” She admitted.