MIND FIELDS Page 14

  “So why did he leave a juggernaut like GE?”

  “Wanted more power, I guess. Hell, he’s one of the most junior senators, at least age-wise, and he’s already in line to take over one of the most powerful Senate committees. That old guy from Kentucky, what’s his name, you know, the guy with those Coke-bottle glasses who always looks like he’s gonna keel over when he walks …”

  “Stanton Cole.”

  “Yeah, Stanton Cole, that’s the guy. Cole’s the head of some subcommittee of the Senate Health Care Committee. Stetson’s wormed his way up the ladder of that subcommittee, and stands to take over when Cole retires … if Cole retires. That guy goes on and on. God, he was old when I was in college.”

  Kincade raised an eyebrow. “Senate Healthcare Committee, huh? Wouldn’t be the Subcommittee on Nanotechnology, would it?”

  “Got me, why?”

  “Ah, nothin’. Let’s get out of here.” Kincade took a last sip from his soda, crumpled up his burrito wrapper and stuffed it into the bag. “Ready?”

  Hank nodded. They threw their garbage in the trashcan and headed for the car. It was a ten-minute drive to the station.

  Richie and Hank pulled into the motor pool in Unit Five.

  “Shit. What’d you get yourself into, Kincade?” Jake yelled as Richie pulled past him at the gate.

  Kincade lowered the window. “What’d you say, Jake?”

  “I said what did you get yourself into out there this morning? A couple of feds came by looking for you about an hour ago. The chief’s hopping mad. He wants to see you pronto.”

  Richie and Hank looked at each other and shrugged.

  “We were just having a couple of burritos at the market. Didn’t know it was a federal offense,” Hank shouted across the front seat.

  “Guess it is now, man,” Jake chuckled as they parked the car.

  Richard Kincade and Hank Holiday walked into the chief’s office together. Chief Thomas Hartner was a few pounds overweight and was affectionately referred to as the “Jolly Old Fellow” by his men when he was not around. He was a hardened veteran of the force who treated his men with respect and was well respected in return. He was usually in a favorable mood, but not today.

  He motioned Hank out the door. “Not you, Holiday. Just Kincade. And close the door on your way out.”

  The door shut, and Chief Hartner walked over to the blinds on the window that looked out over the office. He peered through, and every eye in the room quickly turned away. He tugged on the cord and the blinds shut with a snap.

  “For the love of Christ, Richie. What in the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t just blindside a man like JT Anderson. Did you really think that a flash of the badge would make it alright?”

  “But, Chief, something smells bad at BNI, real bad.”

  “You can’t just barge into a place like that on a hunch. You know better than that.”

  “Of course I do. I just dropped by for a friendly chat. I thought he might be able to help me out with a case I’m working on, something to do with the technology he developed down there.”

  “Then why in God’s name didn’t you make an appointment? You know the protocol. What was the urgency?”

  “Ah, you know how I work, Chief. It wasn’t just an ordinary interview. Some lady doctor, the technology kind of doctor, who Hank hooked me up with said some strange things about BNI – people getting killed off, that sort of thing. I figured she was just paranoid, but I wanted an honest reaction from Anderson. You don’t get that in a formal meeting. I needed to surprise him.”

  “Looks like it backfired, Richie. Two feds were in here this morning. They wanted your badge.”

  “My badge!”

  “Your badge. I calmed them down…for now. It is my jurisdiction, but don’t back me into a corner, Richie. Stay away from BNI, and far away from Anderson. Understood?”

  “But, Chief, there’s something …”

  “Understood?” he repeated, more loudly this time.

  “Understood.”

  Richie left the room and walked over to Hank. “I may need you to do some digging for me, buddy.” He kept walking, and Hank nodded without saying a word.

  “Daisy,” he called to his computer as he sat down at his desk.

  There was no response.

  “They wiped your hard drive, too.” Chief Hartner was standing right behind him. “I tried to stop them, but there was nothing I could do.

  “Bastards killed Daisy.” Kincade stared blankly at his screen, a hollow feeling in his gut. He almost felt like he had lost an old friend. The chief could see it in his face.

  “Why don’t you take some time off, Richie,” Hartner said. “I’ll give you a call when this BNI thing cools down a bit, see if we can get you into something a little less dangerous.”

  Richie stood, still staring at the blank screen on his desk.

  “I’ll see if the tech guys can salvage Daisy for you. Meantime, go get some rest.”

  Richie nodded. “Thanks, Chief.” He turned and walked out the door.

  __

  Kincade arrived home at two-thirty and saw that Lara’s car was gone. He was relieved. He hadn’t been home from work this early in years, and he was in no mood to be interrogated by his wife. As much as he loved her, there were times when he preferred solitude.

  He pulled up in front of the house. It somehow looked strange to him. They had lived in this house so long that Richie had stopped taking notice of it years ago. Coming home now, in the middle of the day and with his job in limbo, it looked surreal. He was always working on a case. Even when his body was at home, his mind was at work, but now … without the help of the department, he knew he could not pursue the BNI case. It was big. Richie knew that, he could feel it, but it wasn’t his case anymore. Not if he wanted to keep his job anyway. He hated to leave a case unsolved, especially without another one to occupy his mind. He hoped the chief would come up with something interesting for him soon.

  He walked up the worn white marble stairs and unlocked the front door. He hung his coat on the rack and walked into the kitchen.

  “Is that you, Detective Kincade?”

  Richie spun toward the familiar voice coming from the computer monitor in the office nook off the kitchen.

  “Daisy? Is that you, Daisy?”

  “Of course, Detective.”

  “But, how did you…”

  “Well it is a little cramped in here, but I managed. You really could use a little more hard drive space, you know.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to upgrade. Just haven’t gotten around to it. But what I meant was, how did you get here, into my home PC?”

  “When I heard those NSA agents at the station say that they were coming to wipe the hard drive on your office computer after downloading the files, I took the liberty of compressing my basic memory and personality programming files and e-mailed myself here. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No. No, of course not. I … but … I didn’t know you could do that.”

  “Ah, there are a lot of things you humans don’t know about us. Let us just keep this our little secret for now, OK? If anyone were to find out, I think you would have a lot more to lose than I would.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like some files I salvaged for you, for one. I couldn’t get everything on such short notice, but I did save most of them, including a little phone log that was uploaded to me from Unit Five this morning.”

  “The log? You’ve got it? You’re awesome, Daisy.”

  “So my secret is safe?”

  “It’s safe.”

  “What about your wife? Does she use this PC?”

  “Of course. I’m a cop. How many PC’s do you think I can afford? It’s the only o
ne we’ve got, but don’t worry, I’ll just tell her I brought you home to do some work. She’ll get a kick out of it. We don’t have an artificial intelligence interface at home. At least we didn’t.”

  “I know. If you did, I couldn’t have fit in here. Which reminds me … if you wouldn’t mind, I would really appreciate it if you would pick up a little bit more hard drive memory. It is awfully cramped in here. I don’t even have room to decompress all of my files. I am not asking for the Taj Majal, but I would like to have a little room to stretch out.”

  Richie marveled at how far Daisy’s personality had developed since he had first programmed her. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, how about getting me a printout of that phone log from this morning?”

  “You’ve got it.”

  The printer whirred quietly and spit out three pages, listing all the phone calls in and out of BNI between seven-thirty and nine-thirty that morning.

  Kincade glanced down the list. He stopped midway down the second page and raised an eyebrow.

  “Daisy, I could kiss you.”

  “Technically, you could not. If it would make you feel better, you could kiss the monitor; however, that would not likely help me gain the acceptance of your wife.”

  Richie laughed.

  “Can you network with Detective Hank Holiday’s home computer?”

  “Sure. Piece of cake.”

  “Great. Get a message to him. Use level II encryption, encode sequence ‘burrito-man.’ Message reads: Hank, ready to do some digging? I need for you to work your magic and see what you can find out about …”

  Chapter fourteen

  Early September is usually a beautiful time of year in Baltimore, but this year, Labor Day was followed by several days of overcast weather, often accompanied by a cool drizzle to dampen the spirits. Sandi had tried to get back into her routine in the lab, but she just couldn’t seem to concentrate. She had long ago come to terms with the fact that Paul left their research lab for the private sector and abandoned her in the process, but the latest blow was the toughest to bear.

  When Paul Hingston left Hopkins to join BNI, Sandi realized he was not the altruistic man she thought she had fallen in love with. She was upset with herself for misjudging his character as much as she was upset with him for leaving. She had no desire to rekindle their relationship, but during the initial months after he joined BNI she had remained convinced that he was still a good man who simply chose to follow a different path. She continued to have great respect for him as a scientist

  Sandi had managed to immerse herself in her work and leave the bitterness of Paul’s departure behind, but when BNI patented the neuronanobot technology, she was infuriated. When she reviewed the patent applications and realized that BNI had stolen her work, she lost all respect for Paul, and was convinced that he had lost respect for himself as well; he never even had the decency to call her after reviewing the data that she had sent him, irrefutable data showing that BNI had exactly duplicated her work at Hopkins.

  As the months passed, Sandi had managed to let go of the bitterness once again. Although she could never forgive Paul for stealing her work, the pain faded with time. Her anger morphed into pity for the man she once admired. She was just starting to get excited about going into the lab again when Detective Kincade walked into her life.

  Kincade’s inquiry had opened a festering wound that she was barely managing to keep covered. She had not been able to get Paul Hingston out of her mind since that day Kincade had stopped to greet her outside the lab. As much as she tried, she could not hate Paul, but she no longer felt any need to protect him. When she sent him that packet containing her files nine months ago, she had hoped he would come to his senses, do the right thing. She didn’t want to see him in jail; she just wanted to right a wrong. This time was different. Now, she was determined to get to the bottom of this, no matter what the consequences. She was convinced that Paul had stolen her work. She had the proof, and now she had the ear of a detective who was willing to investigate the Goliath that was BNI.

  Sandi sat at her desk, flipping Kincade’s business card over and over until the paper began to go limp. She stared down at the number and thought once again about Paul.

  “Ah, the hell with it.”

  She picked up the phone and punched in the number. The lab’s phones were all still manual push-button phones.

  “Detective Richard Kincade, please,” she said into the handset.

  She waited a few minutes before someone answered. “Uh…yeah. How can I help you?”

  “Sandi Fletcher. Remember, you came to see me the other day at Hopkins.”

  “Sorry, miss,” Hank Holliday said at the other end. “Detective Kincade’s on leave. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Sandi hesitated. “Well...I really wanted to talk to Detective Kincade.”

  Hank glanced around the room, and then spoke softly into the phone. “Give me a number where he can reach you.”

  Sandi gave him her cell phone number.

  “Eh-hmm,” Hank cleared his throat as a couple of the secretaries walked by him on their way to the coffee maker. “Yes ma’am. I’ll look into that right away. Give me a number where I can reach you.”

  She repeated the number. His eyes darted back and forth between the departing secretaries and the note pad on his desk as he jotted it down. “Right, got it. Thank you, ma’am. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  __

  A few minutes later, Sandi’s cell phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Dr. Fletcher?” Richie asked.

  “Yes, this is Dr. Fletcher.”

  “Right. This is Detective Kincade. I just got your message.”

  “Oh, Detective. Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I really wanted to talk to...”

  “Not now,” Richie interrupted tersely. “I’d rather do this in person. Can you meet me at Lexington Market? We’ll talk over lunch.”

  It was obvious to Sandi that he thought someone might be eavesdropping. “Sure, I guess so. Where?”

  “There’s a great little Mexican place there called Pedro’s.”

  “Ah good, I love little Mexicans.”

  Richie hesitated. “Boy, you don’t miss a beat, do you, Doc?”

  “I try not to. The world passes you by too fast.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? Meet you at noon?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  The line disconnected. How strange, she thought. Why on Earth would anyone be listening in? He must be paranoid. Maybe this was a mistake.

  Sandi went back and forth in her mind all morning about whether she should actually go to meet with Kincade, but in the end she knew that she would be useless in the lab until she could get some kind of resolution. She was more distracted than ever. Besides, she loved a good burrito.

  Kincade was at Pedro’s Mexican Food counter at Lexington Market when she arrived. “Hope you like burritos.”

  “With a passion, Detective.”

  “Good. These are the best in town.”

  “I know,” Sandi said, turning to the heavy-set woman behind the counter. “Juana, give me the usual.”

  “She looked up at Sandi and smiled. ‘Jou got it, Doc.”

  Richie was impressed. My kind of girl, he thought to himself.

  They waited for their food, and then grabbed a table.

  Richie looked around the room carefully. Once he was satisfied they were not being watched, he turned to Sandi. “So, whatcha got for me, Doc?”

  “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but I still don’t think too much of your mind-controlling nanobot theory as an explanation for those accidents and seizures at BNI. On the other hand, I’m convinced that something is going on there.”

  Kin
cade was a little disappointed. This case was going in circles, and without the Department’s help he needed some little miracles to happen quickly.

  “What do you mean, Doc? This isn’t about that stuff you started telling me about BNI stealing your work, is it?”

  Sandi could see the look in his eyes.

  “Well...”

  “Hey, I just work in the Motor Vehicle Division. I’m not sure that I’m the...”

  “Yes.” She glared straight into his eyes. “You are the guy I want to talk to. Look, Detective, I’m not stupid. If I go to the cops, no offense intended, and tell them that BNI is stealing my work, they won’t lift a finger. No one who cares a lick about his career is going to start poking around at a behemoth like BNI.”

  “Now you tell me,” he laughed.

  “I take it your not on voluntary leave, then?”

  “You take it right, Doc.”

  “Sorry. But that means you’ve got plenty of time on your hands, right?”

  “Well, I...”

  “Look, this thing is really getting to me. I’ve got to know how Paul is stealing my data. I’m so paranoid that I can’t get anything done anymore. I’ve just been spinning my wheels at the lab for the past few months. I’m wasting time, and I can’t live like that. I’m an overachiever, Detective, and if I’m not achieving, I’m not living. You’ve got to help me.”

  Kincade sat quietly, sipping his Coke.

  “God, say something, would you?” Sandi was fidgeting in her chair. She’d hardly taken a bite of her burrito. She was not the patient sort.

  “Look, I know that something is going on at BNI, I can feel it in my bones. I may just work Motor Vehicles, but I’m a snooper at heart. I’m not just a traffic cop, I’m the guy who sniffs out the suspicious accidents, the ones that look like homicides or recreational de-chipping jobs.”

  Sandi looked confused.

  “De-chipping jobs. You know, the ones where the kids have the safety chips removed from their cars so they can drag-race or at least drive fast enough to impress a girl.”