Chapter 6: The Hypnotist and the Ghost

12:17 PM – St. Ignatius Hospital Parking Lot

The acrid smell of burning rubber filled the air as Rebecca Barker tightened the handcuffs around the old man's wrists. His gnarled fingers trembled against the scorched pavement.

"I didn't—I swear I don't know how this happened!" Henry Caldwell's voice cracked like dry kindling.

Rebecca kept her knee pressed firmly against his back as she radioed dispatch. "Unit 7 requesting backup and fire suppression at St. Ignatius main lot. Officer needs assistance with an arson suspect."

From his vantage point on the second-floor walkway, Dr. Benjamin Moore watched the scene unfold through the glass panels. His fingers absently tapped against the stainless steel railing—three quick beats, then two slow.

Something's off.

The old man's initial rage had evaporated too quickly. Like a fever breaking.

Benjamin turned on his heel toward the elevators.

12:31 PM – Hospital Lobby

The automatic doors hissed open to chaos. Two patrol officers were attempting to contain the gathering crowd while fire crews doused the remains of the police van. Rebecca stood with her notebook out, questioning a shaken security guard.

Benjamin approached with deliberate steps. "Quite the lunchtime entertainment, Detective."

Rebecca didn't look up from her notes. "Dr. Moore. Unless you're here to confess, this doesn't concern you."

"On the contrary." Benjamin gestured to where Henry sat slumped on a bench, his face ashen. "As the attending physician on duty, Mr. Caldwell's sudden violent outburst concerns me greatly. Has he exhibited signs of—"

"Save the medical jargon." Rebecca finally met his gaze. "This is a police matter."

Henry suddenly lurched forward. "Please, I don't remember doing this! The last thing I recall is talking to that woman near the bus stop!"

Benjamin's eyebrow arched. "Dissociative episode following interaction with unknown female? That's textbook hypnotic suggestion."

Rebecca's pen froze mid-scribble. "Are you seriously suggesting—"

"Hypnosis is a well-documented phenomenon," Benjamin continued smoothly. "The U.S. Army implemented hypnotic conditioning programs as early as 1950. Ask the CIA about MKUltra sometime."

Henry's watery eyes widened. "My boy was in the service! He told me about this! They can make you do things and not remember!"

Rebecca exhaled through her nose. "Officer Chen, escort Mr. Caldwell to the station. I want a full eval and a sketch artist." She turned back to Benjamin with a razor-thin smile. "Since you're so invested, Doctor, why don't you come verify your diagnosis?"

Benjamin matched her smile. "I'd be delighted."

1:52 PM – Boston PD Interrogation Room 3

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as sketch artist Lena Torres adjusted her glasses. "Take me through it again, Mr. Caldwell. Start from when you first saw her."

Henry's fingers twisted together. "She was standing by the bus shelter. Pretty thing, but... sad eyes. Had a scar right here." He touched his chin.

Benjamin observed from the corner, arms crossed. The two-way mirror reflected Rebecca's silhouette where she watched from the observation room.

"What did she say to you?" Lena prompted.

"She asked if I'd lost someone." Henry's voice dropped. "Told her about my boy. Iraq, 2004. Then she... she touched my hand and said the police would finally listen." His pupils dilated at the memory. "After that, everything goes blank until I was on the ground with that lady cop on top of me."

Lena's pencil flew across the paper. "Hair?"

"Dark. Long. Wavy."

"Distinguishing features?"

"That scar. And... her hands. They were warm. Too warm."

The door clicked open as Rebecca entered with a case file. She dropped it on the table with a thud. "Recognize anyone?"

Benjamin leaned over as she flipped open the file. His breath caught.

The same face from the hospital. The same woman wreathed in blue fire.

Rebecca's eyes never left his face. "Maria Santiago. Ring any bells?"

"Should it?" Benjamin kept his voice even.

"Let's find out." Rebecca pulled out her phone and dialed. "Detective Barker requesting records check on Santiago, Maria. Last known Boston address and—" She paused. "Wait, LAPD flag? Transfer me to Cold Cases."

Benjamin watched as Rebecca's posture stiffened during the call. When she hung up, her knuckles were white around the phone.

"Well?"

Rebecca's voice was tight. "Her brother was killed by LAPD during the '92 riots. Case was closed as justifiable—witnesses claimed he was reaching for an officer's weapon." She tapped the sketch. "Except Maria's statement says he was surrendering. And now twenty years later, she's here making old men blow up cop cars."

Benjamin studied the sketch. "Fascinating. And what's your next move, Detective?"

Rebecca grabbed her jacket. "We pull every traffic cam from that intersection. See where our hypnotist ghost went."

"We?"

She paused at the door. "You wanted in, Doctor. Let's see what else those sharp eyes of yours notice."

3:08 PM – Boston PD CCTV Monitoring Room

The tech adjusted the playback speed. "Here's your bus stop at 11:23 AM."

The grainy footage showed Henry Caldwell shuffling toward the shelter. At 11:26, a figure in a red coat approached.

"Freeze it," Rebecca ordered. "Can you enhance?"

The tech zoomed in. Maria Santiago's face filled the screen—the scar on her chin clearly visible.

Benjamin pointed. "Watch her hands."

As Maria spoke, her right hand brushed Henry's wrist. A strange shimmer distorted the pixels around the contact point.

"What the hell is that?" Rebecca leaned closer.

"Heat distortion," the tech offered. "Maybe a camera glitch?"

Benjamin's jaw tightened. Not a glitch.

At 11:28, Maria walked away. Henry stood motionless for exactly sixty-three seconds before reaching into his bag.

"There." Rebecca tapped the screen as Henry pulled out a Molotov cocktail. "That's premeditation. Where'd he get—"

"Look at Maria," Benjamin interrupted.

The footage showed Maria turning a corner—then vanishing between two frames. No gradual exit. Just... gone.

The tech rewound. "That's impossible. There's no alley there."

Rebecca's phone buzzed. She read the message, her face darkening. "Forensics says the accelerant used matches three unsolved arson cases. All police vehicles."

Benjamin studied the frozen image of Maria's face. "I believe your 'hypnotist ghost' just became a serial arsonist, Detective."

Rebecca grabbed her keys. "Let's go see what else she's burned."