The following is an excerpt from my Irish mystery novel, Into the Fog, a sequel to Through the Fog.
“Niall; Fearghal. Step in side and have a whiskey.” The look on their faces was almost worth the days that came after.
“Told you he was here.”
“You also said he wasn’t a fool. You’re one for two, Niall.”
Niall glared at his older, larger (but, shall we say, less intellectual?) brother and moved toward the front step. “I’ve given up whiskey entirely, Martin, but a cup of something hot wouldn’t go amiss.” I had to step back inside to make room in the doorway for them to come in.
Fearghal O’ Quinn wasn’t quite tall enough to duck as he came through, but he filled a normal sized room well enough. Niall, not as tall and not as broad, always seemed restless, as if he were anticipating a surprise he wasn’t going to like.
Niall jostled Fearghal. “Get in, get in; my backside’s hanging out the door.” Stepping around his brother, he stopped cold.
“Awwww, Jesus, Mary and Joseph he’s workin’ for the government. I knew this was stupid. Stupid to come here. Stupid.”
Fearghal’s mouth had been working to produce a sound since he first stepped through the door. It was no ordinary suburban living room they’d stepped into.
Attached to every wall was a computer worktable, with keyboard trays, monitors, cables and what must have looked like a rummage sale of electronics on every surface. Lights blinked. Fans whirred. Looking at it with fresh eyes, it was indeed the very picture of a B-movie image of a clandestine government operation’s headquarters.
What it was, instead, was a fairly advanced interviewing and analysis system for cognitive recognition — a method of analysing and interpreting body language and facial expression with a comparative analysis of verbal expressions. In other words, I’m learning how to read minds by learning how to read faces. I’d recently run into a little hitch, though.
I have amnesia.