Amnesia has freed Paul from the knowledge that he is dying, but he is determined to discover the reason why he left his former life so precipitously, and presses his reluctant fiancée who knows the truth, but doesn't want him to.
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Chronology of Events
Friday - Saturday, November 26 - 27
According to my hotel, I have been in Davos for the last three days, having arrived from ATHENS! I can't remember a bit of this time, or for that matter, anything of the last eight months - or so it seems.
But from the stamps in my passport, it appears that I've been all over the world - Africa, India, Laos, New Guinea, and Brazil among others. Paul Bryan, the man who never took a day off work.
The last thing I can remember is saying goodbye to Kate in April, but my passport shows that I've left and returned to San Francisco quite a few times since my departure the beginning of that month.
Going downhill on a toboggan Paul suffers a head injury that leaves him unconscious for 12 hours - and without any memory of the last eight months.
Sunday, November 28
Today, I spoke with a psychiatrist who informed me that this amnesia has nothing to do with the bump on my head - something else I can't remember - a tobogganing accident. He wants to put me under a drug which might help me by releasing some buried memory.
Dr. Werner thinks that I might be trying to suppress some particular experience or knowledge. That I have been running away from something appears a clear possibility.
All I have is that last image of saying goodbye to Kate. Can't help wondering if she went back to Armand. My eternal fear. Could it be that his wife, strong again, had taken off, and enabled Kate and Armand to be together again?
Or maybe it's something political - a scandal or embarrassment so great that I just split - or a similar incident involving my relationship to the firm. But that just doesn't sound like me. Mind you, neither does all the globe trotting.
Have rung Katie again and again at home, but no answer. Not at her parents either. This would have to be a day the gallery is closed, but I'll try there tomorrow.
A psychiatrist suggests that the amnesia is circumscribed - not the result of the head injury - but an attempt to suppress some unpleasant knowledge.
Paul's last memory is of his fiancee in April, but he's unable to reach her on the phone.
Monday, November 29
Went under a deep drug, but still can't remember anything but day-to-day things in San Francisco. I keep looking in my passport for a clue, but despite the quantity of them, nothing rings a bell and nothing in my luggage does either.
Was too foggy to make any calls after the drug, but will try tomorrow after getting Dr. Werner's analysis.
Under a deep drug the doctor hears about many things Paul has been doing - which all appear to be dangerous.
Tuesday, November 30
Dr. Werner informs me that, under the drug. I talked about needing to travel around the world.
Looks like I've done that, but apparently a lot more - like driving race cars, sky diving, being arrested for murder - and nearly arrested for trying to kill Fidel Castro, tangling with the mafia in Las Vegas - maybe twice, in addition to being kidnapped, and even jumping off the cliffs at Acapulco.
(That last one has to be a fantasy. Maybe the whole lot were fantasies. I can't see how they could be anything else. So many involve things that I've thought about in the past.)
Dr. Werner also informed me that the woman I appeared to be in love with was not Kate, but someone named Nicole. Keep saying the name over and over to myself, but no face appears, no feeling touches my heart.
No luck phoning Kate's or her parents either, and the woman at the gallery simply said that she wouldn't be in all this week.
When I rang the firm, was put direct to Ben Du Pre who was very welcoming, sorry to hear about my accident, and said that he hoped I'd be accepting his offer. My office was there for me any time I wanted it.
What offer? Apparently, I have left the firm. Tried to act cool and play along with him, and kept the call brief.
When he listens to the doctor's report on the test, Paul finds it difficult to believe that he's really been involved in the various activities.
New York City
Wednesday , December 1
The doctors said I was well enough to travel, so it seemed the best place to go was back home - where my memory ends - and the mystery starts.
All through the flight from Zurich to New York, I kept thinking that some little bell would ring in my head, but nothing. It feels good to be in New York, but no night life. I promised the doctors to be in bed early.
Being well enough, Paul leaves Switszerland for New York.
Thursday, December 2
If I expected surprises in San Francisco, they started immediately. With my house and car keys missing from my keyring, I was going to ask the Morgans next door to let me in with theirs when I noted a bunch of strangers sitting in my house as soon as I parked in the driveway.
Knocked on my door, and was warmly greeted by name, the lady apparently my tenant, and her husband a new associate with HSD. She couldn't have been nicer, showed me the lease I'd signed, was very understanding about my loss of memory, and even invited me to stay in the guest room.
I asked her where my paintings were, and she said that they'd been removed before they moved in. It was surreal. I used the phone, but still couldn't reach Kate, so went to her apartment building.
It was like Fort Knox, and the attendant refused to tell me anything. Got a stroke of luck then, and saw a neighbor I knew slightly, but she said that Kate wasn't living in the building any more.
Bigger shock was going to her parents' home. It was for sale. Checked the phone book then, and actually found Molly listed, but the line was busy for an hour.
In the meantime I tried David Gaffney, having apparently mentioned Pete's name a lot under the drug. Finally someone close I could talk to.
He regaled me with stories about GB Racing, the B being for Bryan!!! If it weren't a man as solid as my father's law partner, I'd be sure this was one big practical joke.
He spoke of how I'd made an incredible move in Rio that probably saved the life of Jim Clark. On and on he dazzled me with the most extraordinary stuff, but didn't have any idea why I'd left in April.
If Pete knew, his father wasn't aware of it, but said that he and June were on their annual vacation in the South Pacific - as always, in communicado for a month.
Also talked to Garrett Hamilton who was very kind, but no help - mystified at why I left. But he too had a bombshell. I'd sold him the Sea Farm.
Gave up with the phone, and went to Molly's. She talked about seeing me in Rio, said that her father was dead, but was uncomfortable discussing the sale of her parents' house.
And when it came to Kate, she wouldn't budge. I couldn't understand it. At that point it was surely looking like she'd gone back to Armand.
Molly was having a little party, Alex Ryder appearing to be her date, maybe live-in boyfriend, and he was the one who finally let the cat out of the bag.
Katie had some kind of breakdown, and Alex made no bones about accusing me of being the cause. He then went on to talk about me coming back to sniff around her now that she had the millions. It was dazzling!
With Molly remaining as much a stone wall as Kate's building receptionist, figured I'd have to find some other way of getting at the truth, and started to leave, but Molly stopped me, suggesting we meet for breakfast.
After that I went to Dwight Sinclair - without ringing first. He looked older, and very care-worn, to give him an accurate description. Explaining about the memory loss, I wondered if he might be able to help me.
Dwight ushered me in the mansion, then knocked me for a loop with the news that his daughter had been shot dead before his eyes. I had not only been there to witness the tragedy, but had killed her assailant.
He was trying to get over the loss by throwing himself into a Constitutional Amendment campaign, and almost appeared unaware that I was there.
When Dwight finally stopped speaking, I asked him if he knew why I'd left San Francisco, but he also had no idea, and assured me that there was no political scandal or embarrassment, only bewilderment on all sides why I'd walked away from my political future.
Dwight insisted I stay the night with him, and I was grateful to have a familiar place to lay my head. Maybe I should take the Abel Leader up. That always cleared my mind. I just have to hope that I'm going to wake up in the morning with my memory back.
When he arrives in San Francisco, Paul can't find his fiancee Kate, and learns from her sister that Kate had a breakdown when he left in April.
He also discovers that her father is dead, but Molly is dubious about letting Paul know where Kate is living.
No one seems to know why he left in April.
Friday, December 3
Molly spelled out a tale of woe that broke my heart. My solid, reliable and ever-resilient Katie had collapsed after my sudden departure, and had been hospitalised for nearly three months.
I kept asking why no one informed me, and Molly seemed to imply that my presence would have made things even worse. She said that it was with great reservation that she'd give me Kate's new address either, unsure what it would do to her if she saw me again.
Told Molly my passport indicated I'd been back in San Francisco quite a few times, and found it strange that I hadn't seen Kate. Molly replied that if I'd tried, the clinic would have barred me.
Whatever I did, she instructed, when I was with Kate, I shouldn't kiss her, embrace her, tell her I loved her or speak of our engagement. I should think of myself as a casual friend or gallery client with a memory loss problem.
“It's crucial for her sanity, Paul!” Molly had insisted, and I promised to pay strict attention to the rules, behave as circumspectly as possible in order to protect Katie.
I asked Molly what Alex meant about the millions, and she answered self-consciously that her father had left Kate all the money and businesses, she and her mother only receiving a monthly income.
It was plenty, she assured, and the three women had spent a warm and amicable Thanksgiving together. I said that Alice might be able to help with my mystery, but Molly indicated that her mother was living in South America with the man she'd been having an affair with!
Before I left, Molly assured me she'd ring Katie soon as I was gone, and warn her that I was on my way.
Kate was living in a new place. Not the grand two-story apartment on Nob Hill, but a simple abode - very modest in comparison.
It felt odd - well, insane - to enter the place, and act like a stranger, but I did my best to follow Molly's guidelines. Katie herself was completely distant - so unsure of herself, I couldn't believe it.
My regal, self-contained darling, a woman of infinite grace, warmth and brightness had become a jittery, tense and almost haunted creature.
As far as being able to help me, she said that I hadn't given any reason for my departure in April, and refused to talk about what had happened to her.
I was crestfallen, so sure that she'd have the answer to everything. Alex wasn't wrong. I had obviously done damage to the core of my beloved, and she didn't even want to have dinner with me.
It was as if she were the one who had lost her memory. I mentioned being in San Francisco several times since April, and asked her if we'd seen one another.
She just turned and said that she couldn't talk to me any more, and begged me to leave, then said “for now, anyway” implying that she might be willing to speak later.
Of all the shocks and surrealism of the last week, this encounter had to be the most incredible. A woman I was within four weeks of marrying, unable to remain in my presence.
Troubled and deeply confused, I went to the firm, and had many discrete conversations with colleagues, but no one had any answers for me.
However, nearly everyone said that they thought Marcella had been in regular contact with me, and I should talk to her. Problem is that she took a long weekend, and won't be back until Monday.
Had dinner with Dick and Maria Phillips who said that they'd been fishing with me in Mexico last June, but that I'd said nothing about why I left. Another blank wall.
Still, their company and warmth was a tonic. When I got back to Dwight's, there was a message from Molly to meet her at Alex's.
When I got there, another party was going on, and Molly only wanted to know how things had gone with Kate. I tried to give her a vague response, and get out of there, then someone shoved a lottery ticket in my hand, insisting that everyone was buying one.
Paid for it, got out of Alex's as quickly as possible, and went back to my office, ploughing through files, drawers and notebooks until giving up around 3 am.
Called Katie after that. We were a little better on the phone, and she's agreed to meet me for dinner tomorrow night.
Paul meets Molly for breakfast, and she tells him where to find Kate who behaves very awkwardly with him. She says that he didn't tell her why he was leaving, and that she can't help him.
He consults colleagues at his old law firm, and looks through all his files until late, then rings Kate, and again asks her to have dinner with him the following night.
This time she agrees.
Saturday, December 4
The day has been a total loss. I've talked to so many people - most of them dear friends,- and no one had even a small lead. If Katie can't be more help tonight, am down to something her sister described from our apparent meeting in Brazil.
Molly had heard me remark to Pete how a redheaded model there looked like a woman I'd seen my last night in San Francisco, after which I'd seemed a little down to her. It sure isn't much to go on.
At the end of the useless day, went back to Dwight's to shave and freshen up for tonight. What I really want to do is suggest to Katie that we get married immediately after this amnesia mess is straightened out - or even if it isn't.
Ben Du Pre showed me the package he'd apparently offered me only a week earlier, and they're terms I have to grab at. The political career is probably gone after my erratic behavior, but it doesn't feel like that matters - at the moment, at least.
Another day with no information on why Paul left.
He has dinner with Kate, and she suggests that he follow up on a tip from her sister - a redhead that Paul may have been with the night before he left San Francisco.
Sunday, December 5
Met Kate for dinner last night, and though she told me nothing, she was transformed back to her warm and loving self; it was like we were before, and so wonderful to be with her.
Was ready to just leave things as they stood, and suggest a Christmas wedding, but couldn't help but be obsessed with trying to find the reason for my departure.
We agreed that I should try and find a track to the redhead whom Molly mentioned. That is, Kate pretended to agree. But when we said good night, she was near tears and begged me not to kiss her.
When I'd broken Molly's rules at dinner, and spoken to Kate about my feelings for her, her kiss had been responsive and loving, so I asked again if we'd seen one another since April, and her voice went to a whisper.
A lot, she admitted. In fact, the last time was only two weeks ago, after spending much of the previous month in Greece together. I was overwhelmed, then delighted and relieved, wanting to know more, but could see that Katie was struggling in this moment.
When she pleaded with me not to ask her about it, I couldn't press her, and started to hit some of my favorite haunts - Georgio's, Eddie's and such in search of the mystery woman.
Eddie suggested that the redhead might be a woman named Jeanie Lake, and tried to assist by linking me up with his bartender who knew her.
That contact nearly got me a broken back, but in the end, the man said he'd tell Jeanie Lake I wanted to see her.
Spent half the day sleeping, but woke from an awful nightmare. Kate and I were walking through Fleischacker Zoo, and when we came to the elephants, always our favorite, I brought out a rifle - from nowhere - and shot all of them.
There was something about the dream that made me feel it held an answer to my mystery, but was just too elusive.
Shaken by that, and worried that I missed a call, I sought out Dwight, but he said that no one had phoned. Rang Kate, and asked if she would see me if I promised not to ask her about why I left or anything between then and now. She was dubious, but consented.
Going on a crawl of his old haunts, Paul comes up with the name of a redhead, but her protective friend nearly kills Paul when he suspects him of representing the woman's brutal husband.
Monday, December 6
Went into the office to see Marcella, and she asked what weird and wonderful thing I needed her to do today. When I said that I couldn't remember anything of the last eight months, she brought out a volume from her office safe, and handed it to me.
Inside, from April 1 to November 25 - the day I'd apparently left Athens for Davos, including the name of my hotel there - was an entire record of everything I'd done - and everywhere I'd been - day by day, with very few blank.
Not just the addresses and phone numbers of where I'd stayed, but those of countless people I'd met along the way. Flight schedules, the lot.
Also substantial financial information - and what jumped out to me the most - besides my ever-dwindling capital - was the fact that I'd sold the Abel Leader. My heart sank.
I started to read the side notes made by Marcella from conversations - running commentaries about individuals and places. It would have taken me a day or more to read through it all.
Skimming along I saw “evidence” of all the things Dr. Werner had picked from my subconscious - the dive at Acapulco (plus a sad tale of two young fugitives there being gunned down), the murder charge in a place called Pine Grove, even the incident involving Castro on my way to break bread with John Kenneth Galbraith!
It still seemed so impossible, but the detail was amazing. I even saw the name Nicole Longet, but nothing about her rang a bell.
However, to my initial question about why I went away, Marcella had no answers. She suggested that I should try my “Paris apartment” where I kept my journal pages. My Paris apartment?? That has to be the best lead yet!
As we were speaking, the mail came in, and there was a letter from my aunt. I tore it open, feeling instinctively that there had to be something in it. Alma's handwriting had become almost illegible, and the content was only about personal activities and Almeria gossip.
My eyebrows raised when she said that Rosintha Mercedes was now dating Tony Oliviera. I'd thought she was married to that weirdo Robbie Fielding. But there was nothing in Alma's letter to give any clue to my circumstances.
Marcella said that she was about to post all my overseas Christmas cards, and had enclosed the notes I'd sent to everyone inside. I looked at the stack of cards, saddened that I was unfamiliar with the names of all these people who apparently meant so much to me.
Brought the book with me back here to Dwight's, and keep hoping for the phone call about meeting Jeanie Lake, as I leaf through the fascinating content.
Kate was prominent through the latter months, and in addition to the time in Greece she'd mentioned, I saw that we were together in the Bahamas and Seychelles in August.
In the wonderful time we'd spent yesterday, she hadn't said a word about that, though admittedly, I'd kept my promise not to discuss such things.
Of course, Molly had been all wrong in her well-meaning advice. Unaware that we were back together, she'd dreamt up a behavioral cocktail for me that caused Kate to also act with equal stiffness on that first meeting at her new apartment.
I can't understand why she remains reluctant to talk about my leaving. Can it really be that she doesn't know the reason? Nevertheless, grand and daring a lifestyle as Marcella's book describes, I'd be contented just to be with Kate, and starting our life as a married couple here in San Francisco.
Paul gets a chance to speak to the woman, and indeed she is the one he was with on his last night in the city. But she has no idea why he left.
She does, however, give him a tip about an office building, and when he goes there, Paul's steps automatically lead him to the office of his doctor - where he learns all over again that he has only a short time to live.
Tuesday, December 7
It's taken me some while to come to terms with what I learned yesterday, and sitting here in one of Gene Mason's rooms, waiting for the next round of tests, I'm trying to put it all together - without thinking about things too much.
My memory is back, but when I read the last lines written in this journal, the pain runs almost too deep to breathe.
Maybe I could have gone on - as Katie and I dreamed that night at my grandmother's house - happy for what ever months are left - instead of constantly living under this dark cloud, and pretending it's not going to rain.
While Jeanie Lake knew nothing, she pointed me to the Sheaffer Building, and from its portals, my footsteps took me the rest of the way to this office.
Dr. Mason actually thought that I'd come for my scheduled early December check up, but I was in no shape for anything, and set it up for today.
It was like finding out all over again. The same horror, but this time I had Katie to run to instead of away from. We went to her old apartment, and she said that she was moving back in, but it was difficult to find consolation.
Katie had lived on the hope that I wouldn't rediscover the truth, but said that she needed her psychiatrist's advice on how to deal with me, and it had been all cold turkey when we met on Friday.
We tried to laugh at our behavior with one another, but any mirth was feeble at best. It's all pain today. Not to mention the physical kind I'm experiencing here in Dr. Mason's office.
Subjected myself to all his tests, and told him that I'd be back in San Francisco at Christmas, if he had anything to tell me. Meanwhile, there was racing to do, but I'm first going to see Julie Foster in San Diego.
Doubting that he would share any privileged information, Mason surprised me by saying that she was holding her own - in other words, no bad news.
Before I took my poor battered, picked and prodded body out of the office, Gene asked me if I might see another of his patients, and we agreed to discuss the matter at the holidays.
Then he said that he wants to see me once a month from now on. What else would I expect than to leave Mason's on a negative note?
Notes on Anomalies and Contradictions in the Broadcast Episode
The times mentioned in the broadcast episode have been disregarded in this unique case, due to the numerous contradictions contained therein.
Molly mentions being with Paul in Rio de Janeiro two months earlier (referring to the episode “The Carnival Ends at Midnight”), but since Carnival takes place in February, the time would now be April, not October.
That episode ended with Molly having just killed the man who murdered her father. Though it was an accident, and the man signed a note to the effect before he died, she had used the same gun to wound him on the street, and would hardly have escaped prosecution and likely incarceration, something a million miles from the flippant way she refers to the occasion.
In that episode, Paul tells Molly that he met her sister in the Bahamas, but in “The Day Time Stopped,” she refuses to let him know where Kate is, as if Molly didn\t know the two haven't seen one another since Kate's breakdown.
Another problem exists with Paul skiing at Davos in October, as the season there does not begin until November, making the above journal scenario far more believable.
8 - 14 December 1965 ("I Am the Late Diana Hays" / Retreat in Mexico)
Paul and Kate try to once again repair their relationship, and make a plan to be together as much as they can in the months ahead.
Paul reflects on all that has happened as he goes through a battery of tests at the doctor's.