Booktree.ng_Forgotten-Witness

much healthier man. He was intelligently posed, his gaze
honest, and his demeanor temperate. The accompanying article
was dated 1981 and entitled Effects of Sleep Deprivation on
Neural Functioning. She found references to his published
writings in 1978, 1983, 1989, and 1994. That didn’t mean
other information didn’t exist, it only meant she was eager to
get on with the real task at hand. Josie took the thing Ian
Francis had thrust into her hands out of her pocket before it
burned a hole through it.
It was a piece of white plastic, cylindrically rolled and
secured with a thick blue rubber band. It was no bigger than a
stogie and wrapped with origami precision. She ran her fingers
up and down the length. She couldn’t feel anything inside;
there were no wires along the skin and there was no
discernible smell. She peeled off the rubber band. The plastic
was so tightly wrapped that it didn’t immediately come apart.
She picked at the triangular end with her nail, unrolled it,
paused to pull out the folded ends, and rolled again.
When she was done, Josie was staring at a cheap plastic bag
measuring five-by-eight and heat-stamped with the crude
image of a tall building of no particular architecture. There
were no words, numbers, or symbols on the outside but she
could clearly see that there were things inside so she opened
the bag. It yielded a very small clear plastic bag of white
powder with a numeric code written on it, a lock of hair
wrapped round with yellowing scotch tape, and a little torpedo
of rolled paper.
As much as Josie would have liked to think the lock of hair
was at least proof of Hannah, she knew it was not. Hannah had
shaved her head before she spirited Billy out of the hospital.
This hair was smooth and chestnut colored, not black and
curled and kinked like Hannah’s. This was something a mother
kept of a child or a man kept of his lover. These things made
no sense and yet the man’s voice rang clearly in her head. He
was so sure; so specific.
I know where she is.