Chapter 31
Fred was awakened by the shrill sound of the phone on his nightstand. It was Jim. In a rare emotional tone Jim said, “What the hell happened, you’re already an hour late for work, are you all right?”
Fred struggled to bring into focus the digital numbers on the bedside clock. When the numbers finally became clear, he realized that he had in fact overslept for the first time in his police career.
“Sorry Jim, it was a long night,” he responded without attempting to provide additional details.
“Well, Fred, a lot has happened this morning so you better get down here, the chief is champing at the bit.”
Fred took a fast shower and dressed rapidly. Maureen was still asleep. He thought perhaps he should also try earplugs like hers. He left her a note on the nightstand—“Have to go—great, great night—see you later. Love, Fred!” In less than thirty minutes after receiving Jim’s phone call, he was in his Miata on his way to the station.
When Fred walked into his chief’s office he was greeted with the sardonic response he had expected, “Well, Fred, are you still employed here? When I looked in your office two hours ago, I thought you might have resigned!”
Fred started to respond that this was the first time he had been late in all his years on the force, but thought better of it. Instead he said, “Sorry Chief, it won’t happen again.”
The chief, having gained his pound of flesh, decided to move on to the events of the day. “While you were off, it turns out that an assault rifle was found by two fishermen in Sarasota Bay. They called in from Tim’s Restaurant to report their finding. I told them to stay where they were. That was over an hour ago. Now you get out there right now!”
Fred left the station immediately, not wanting to listen to any more expletives and wrath from his chief. In ten minutes he reached the parking lot of Tim’s.
As he exited his car he saw two middle age men, looking very frustrated, sitting on the front restaurant steps. A large bait can, and two fiberglass fishing poles rested on the nearby lawn. Fred walked up to the men, verified that they were the fishermen that placed the call, displayed his badge and asked where the weapon was.
The smaller of the two men replied, “We left it in our boat, we’ll take you to it.” The other fisherman asked, “This won’t take much longer, will it?”
Fred said, “Only as long as it must. I need to view the exact spot where you two found the weapon.” He walked with the men about a hundred yards until they reached a small marina where at least twenty boats of various makes, sizes and shapes were docked.
The men showed him their rig, a boat about twenty feet long badly in need of paint with two outboard motors. The craft was large enough to enter the Gulf of Mexico; but Fred hoped that would not be the case since the wave action in the ocean was still quite violent from the remnants of the last storm. Fred had lived within a couple miles of the ocean for over a decade; but in all that time he had tried not to get closer to the water than the beautiful, alabaster Siesta Key Beach. He was both prone to sea sickness and had an unsettling fear of deep water. That fear stemmed from a near drowning incident when he was ten years old.
The ship’s cabin contained a blanket concealing a large narrow cardboard box, which in turn contained an assault weapon that was just starting to show early signs of rust. Fred asked the men to take him to the exact location where the weapon was found. The boat’s engines started immediately. In a few minutes they were following the inter-coastal waterway, staying well within parameters of the green and red lights which signaled the edges of its navigational area. Within the channel the depth was as deep as eighteen feet which provided adequate draft to allow large sea-going crafts to negotiate the waterway without problems. Outside the channel, the depth rapidly dwindled to as little as a foot, causing even the smallest boats in the bay to be grounded in the soft bottom sand. The boat churned through the bay’s waters, sending a light vaporous mist into Fred’s face which he found strangely refreshing. He was happy that they didn’t have to stray from the bay area; their destination was a few hundred feet off Midnight Pass, a former access area to the Gulf of Mexico which had been closed by a past hurricane.
Fred observed the area where the weapon was found. There seemed to be nothing significant about the spot. However, the fact that the weapon had been dropped overboard in the bay area indicated to him that the boat that had been used to dispose of the weapon was most likely too small to safely venture into the Gulf of Mexico. The gulf was less than a few hundred yards from the bay; and it would certainly have been preferable to drop it into deep waters to insure it was lost for eternity.
When the boat returned to its docking site, Fred took down the names of the boaters, advised them he might need to contact them in the future for more information, and for the first time took a good look at the weapon’s container. Based on its weathered condition, he noted that it had been immersed in the water for an extended period and had been subjected to the erosive effects of moving water. The former letters on the outside of the box had been almost totally erased. Two large letters were still partly legible, a “Y” and what seemed to be part of an “O”.
Fred returned to the station and asked Sgt. Brown to check for any prints on the weapon and determine if he could find any additional writing on the cardboard container which was not visible to the human eye but might be legible under intense magnification. He also directed that the weapon be fired to extract its signature on the bullet and compare it to those of the bullets recovered from the movie theater. As he walked past the chief’s office, he noticed his boss was totally engrossed in a discussion with subordinates. Fred knew he should brief the chief as to the results of his recovery of a weapon, but he understood such a meeting would only bring more consternation. Instead he left for home with directions left for Brown to phone him when the results of the examinations were complete.
* * *
The next morning Sgt. Brown determined that the weapon recovered by the fishermen was in fact the murder weapon used in the theater. The signatures etched on the casings found at the murder scene matched those of the firing chamber perfectly. As Fred expected, the weapon had been wiped clean of fingerprints. Brown had not been successful in finding any additional markings on the container. He did affirm that the first two letters of the LOGO were “YO” but nothing beyond that was legible. Fred directed Sgt. Brown to look through the Sarasota Yellow Pages and commercial directories to identify any company whose name started with the letters “YO”.
Fred reasoned that the killer either had a boat of his own which he had used to dispose of the weapon in the bay, or he had rented a boat for that specific purpose. During this heavy boating season the murderer most likely could not rent a larger vessel which would have permitted him to go into the deep waters of the bay. Acting on a long shot, he directed his subordinates to get the names of all boat renters from the day of the theater murders until yesterday. Earlier he had acquired from Schultz’s secretary, photographs of all the workers in AU, on the remote chance that someone in that organization had something to do with the murders. Initially she had refused but quickly relented once Fred indicated that he would have a court order within 24 hours directing her to do what he asked.
Sgt. Brown and Sgt. Penrod identified all boat rental businesses from Bradenton to Venice. There were a total of 13. For their protection, all the boat owners required a full identification of all boat renters in case of the remote possibility the renters decided to retain the boats as their own.
While his staff was performing their gumshoe work, Fred checked out the condition of Schultz. When he called the hospital he learned that Schultz had been released. He called Schultz’s office and was told that Schultz was recovering at home. When he called Schultz’s home, Schultz himself answered on the fourth ring.
Fred conveyed to Schultz his sympathy for his injury, immediately adding that he wanted to visit him to continue with his questions. Schultz paused and then, displaying none of the bravado that he had two days before in his office, meekly agreed. Fred said, “Then let’s make it now.” Schultz hesitantly agreed.
* * *
The Schultz home was situated on the grounds of a multi-million dollar enclave, which was bordered on one side by Route 41 and by the inter-coastal waterway on the other. The grounds were protected by a twelve foot stucco wall and a formidable white metal gate. On close examination Fred noticed that the iron work resembled two dolphins jumping out of water. On the residential side of the gate stood a rent-a-cop who seemed to take his limited authority very seriously. The guard examined Fred’s badge closely, and seemingly satisfied, opened the gate and pointed to Schultz’s massive residence.
Two minutes later Fred pulled into a large circular driveway crafted of poured, gray cement which had been artistically structured to look like individual stones. In the center of a colonial bent grass area stood a large water fountain. Water was gracefully exiting from the mouths of five, greater than life size, dolphins and cascading down into a large copper basin. Schultz really likes dolphins, Fred thought. He exited his Miata and rang the front doorbell.
Immediately a Hispanic woman wearing a black dress and a white apron opened the door. When he gave his name, she nodded and showed him to a large great room covered in gray stone façade walls. The great room opened up to a large pool area beyond which was a green expanse providing a welcome visual entry to the inter-coastal waterway. As Fred peered out the window towards the bay, he realized the Schultz home was not far from where the fisherman had found the murder weapon.
Schultz was sitting on a lounge chair facing the gulf. When he turned to greet him, Fred was shocked. Schultz’s entire face was covered with bandages with the exception of a single eye and mouth opening.
What had been false sympathy on Fred’s part, one hour earlier on the phone, had turned to real concern when he looked at the tragic sight before him. Fred asked with true warmth, “How are you doing?”
Schultz said, “Not too good, the pain is under control but they don’t know whether or not they can save my eye.” Then Schultz asked in a quivering voice, “What do you think caused the light to fall and shatter?”
Fred said, “I really don’t know, but the most reasonable explanation is that the vibrations from years of traffic caused it to loosen over time, what else could it have been?”
Schultz didn’t answer, but what little emotion exited from his bandaged face indicated that he didn’t buy the conventional rationale.
Fred said, “I know you are in some discomfort so I will make this brief. First, my information source indicated you were a salesman before you landed your current job. Let’s go straight to the truth; you weren’t really a salesman, were you?”
“No,” Schultz said with barely a pause, “I worked for the CIA, the salesman handle was simply a cover—but how did you know?”
“Actually I didn’t,” Fred acknowledged, “But I felt it was too much of a radical transition from being a salesman to the rapid ascent to the C.E.O. of a large corporation involved in some type of national intelligence work. Besides, your bio was so shallow, it had to point to some type of cover up. Second question, what does your firm actually do, and please add a few more details than you were willing to provide me with during our last meeting?”
“Without revealing anything confidential, we work for the black world of the government. You know, the black world is that which is identified as the secret component of national security.”
“OK,” Fred said, “and more specifically your assignment is?”
“As you might know,” Schultz continued, “most of the money that is spent on defense goes into the production and operation and maintenance of weapon systems. For example, it’s no secret that our government is working on a massive project to disable incoming missile systems entering our atmosphere. The cost of such an effort is in the billions and there’s no proof the system will even work when countering a multiplicity of offensive weapons which potentially could enter our atmosphere at the same time. Even President Kennedy back in the 60’s recognized what a difficult task that could be. Suppose, though, that we could disrupt the incoming missiles at the moment they were sent into space, with a cost to the taxpayer that is much, much lower than that of the systems currently under development? Wouldn’t that be worth the effort?”
“I suppose so,” Fred ventured, “but how does that fit into your company’s mission?”
“Well,” Schultz offered, “I know this must seem like a stretch to you, but one of our assignments is to determine if the concept of mind over matter really works.”
Fred could not see the connection. “OK, but I’m still not sure how that fits into our missile defense system.”
Schultz responded, “If such a capability could be harnessed, then we could in theory alter the flight path of an incoming missile simply by a mental process, and have that missile land harmlessly in the ocean miles away from its target. The only casualties might be some fish and a passing shark or two.”
Fred laughed. “Come on, that’s pure bunk, simply science fiction bullshit.”
Schultz said, “Not at all. Its premise has been established at various universities around the country. Of course, up to now it has only been proven on a small scale in very simple tests. In reality the number of times an object’s path and projection has been mentally altered from its natural course falls well beyond a statistically random occurrence. A limited number of people really do have the capability to deflect, if you will, the movement of an object.”
Fred was shocked at Schultz’s revelation. “Do you really think that we can eventually alter the flight path of an incoming missile through a mental process? I can’t believe we have advanced anywhere near that point in the state of the art.”
Schultz countered, “No not yet, but someday we hope we will be successful, and in the near rather than the distant future.”
Fred asked the 64 dollar question, “How would these people know when the missile is going to be launched? Would they have to wait for endless periods before they would be asked to do their special thing, so to speak?”
“Not necessarily,” Schultz replied, “Suppose we combined that paranormal ability with another such as remote viewing or precognition. We could then determine intentions well before the actual act. In fact we could introduce a preventative conventional strike on the hostile missile sites; and any stray missile not destroyed by conventional weapons would have its flight altered by mind-over-matter personnel.”
Schultz was now outwardly excited, “Just think, we could also add other paranormal abilities to our arsenal; and in such a synergistic effort that would render a potential enemy almost defenseless!”
Schultz continued, “We currently employ preventive attacks based on the military’s best intelligence that a foreign power is building weapons of mass destruction which might be ultimately directed at us. Often our intelligence is inadequate or faulty so we can’t be sure that their country is actually building such a weapon or more importantly that they in fact intend to use it on us. Our current intelligence in that area can best be described as primitive. If you recall, JFK had to use in-country spies to determine if Russian missiles were aimed at our country during the Cuban Missile crisis. We don’t always have such a luxury. I can also use the example of our Iraq invasion as an example of very bad intelligence in that area.”
Fred asked, “How can you be assured that these people, supposedly having paranormal capabilities, can do what they purport to do?”
“Well, testing ESP capabilities is not new. In the 30’s a man by the name of J.B. Rhine was one of the first parapsychologists to actually test ESP phenomena in the laboratory. We have gone much further these days. We can use high speed networking to link a supercomputer to an MRI scanner and identify which parts of the brain lights up, so to speak, during selective mental activities. That’s called neuroimaging. In recent years, neurobiology has become another tool to analyze the brain’s mechanism. We are also starting to use neuro-endocrinology to gain additional insights.”
Fred was openly astonished. After an extended pause he said, “So I assume that in the final analysis you are now operationally testing these various ESP theories?”
“Yes,” Schultz affirmed, “and a lot more! Of course,” he added, “My job is not to determine how these capabilities will be used in the future, just to verify that they can be used.”
Fred was so mesmerized by what Schultz had been telling him, he almost forgot that his purpose for the visit was to discuss the two employees who had been killed in the massacre. But now he realized for the first time that the killings could have been executed by a foreign power which had knowledge of the nature of the company’s business. At the same time, to the best of Fred’s understanding, his station had never been visited by any CIA, FBI or national security personnel asking questions about the murders. Fred theorized that the government had not yet realized that the killing of Schultz’s employees might have been something other than a meaningless mass murder.
From the next room Schultz’s wife called to state, in no uncertain terms, that the doctor had forbid any extended visits until Schultz was feeling better. Fred was eager to pursue the questioning further, but he also had sympathy for Schultz’s condition.
Schultz suggested that Fred interview Ron Lyons, who was temporarily in charge of the Stealth Division. “He has been around the company for quite a period and he can give you some good information. From there you can select whatever personnel you want to talk to.”
Fred thanked Schultz for his cooperation and indicated that if Schultz was feeling better, perhaps they could continue their discussion later in the week.
* * *
The next morning Fred had an early appointment with Lyons. Arriving a few minutes early, he decided to make a stop at the security guard’s desk. He reintroduced himself, putting his hand out for the stern man to shake. The guard had been sitting each time that Fred observed him, so when he got up Fred was shocked at his size. If one thought Schultz was big, this guy had to be described as a monster. Both of Fred’s hands could have been placed in one of the security guard’s and there would have still been room left over. The man seemed to understand his massive strength and when he shook hands, Fred felt virtually no resistance.
Fred realized that the security guard witnessed all the comings and goings in the company. He decided it would do no harm to try to enlist him to act as a couple of on-the-scene eyes for him.
Fred said, “As you might know, I am involved in a murder investigation. I would appreciate it if you would call me if you observe anything that you consider strange going on.”
The guard laughed. “Seems to me everything going on in here is strange, but I understand your drift. I’ll be happy to do it.”
Fred provided a copy of his business card. His old office number had been crossed off and his new number written above it in ink. The title, Sergeant, was also crossed off with Lieutenant written above it.
“Do you need some money for new cards?” the guard asked, holding back a smile. “I believe I have a couple of bucks in my pocket that could go to a good cause.”
“No, not more money, just more time in my life.”
* * *
The Stealth division was less than half the size of most of the divisions that he had observed during his first cursory introductory visit to the company. Outside the division’s front office, were three modular office areas, as opposed to the five that characterized the company’s other divisions. Conspicuous by its absence was a secretarial desk. Fred assumed this small division had to use the service of secretaries from other parts of the company.
“Not to be insulting,” Fred said to Mr. Lyons, “But your division seems slightly smaller than the rest, or am I not seeing things?”
“That is appropriate humor for our stealth division,” Lyons replied. “If we are doing our job properly, you shouldn’t see things; actually we have two other modular units directly outside my door that are invisible.”
Fred’s jaw opened wide. “I can’t believe it; you are really able to do that?” he said incredulously.
Mr. Lyons smiled. “If you can’t believe it, then please don’t believe it; I am putting you on, Lieutenant. We are the smallest division in the company. Most of our company’s effort is concentrated in areas where we are absolutely sure that a useful and specific paranormal capability exists and that it will have a viable future application for our customers.
“In the case of our small organization, we are just starting to explore, and experiment in, a highly questionable field. Most of our funding comes from military research and development funding. If what we are attempting to do becomes viable, then will be expanding our operations to a size comparable to the company’s other divisions. In a way you might consider what we do is similar to the NASA’s study of intelligent life beyond our own planet. NASA scientists don’t even know if the subject matter exists, yet they continue to investigate it. The same is true with the concept of human invisibility. We are not entirely sure of its existence, but our purpose is to investigate it.”
Fred said, “Without going into a lot of scientific stuff, just please tell me what you do in here?”
“We simply focus on various methods to create invisibility.”
“Wait a minute, I heard that Japan accomplished that objective already; is that not true?”
“Yes, to a very limited degree; I assume that you are speaking about the technique used by the University of Tokyo to create the illusion of invisibility. However, please remember that the operative word for what they accomplished is illusion. They call it an invisibility cloak; but it is nothing more than an expanded application of optical camouflage. It is a fairly simple concept but unfortunately one that is not particularly useful for our purposes. It is a much better device to be used by a stage magician than by the Department of Defense or our nation’s top spy agencies.
“More specifically, what the Japanese use to achieve invisibility, is a type of outer garment that looks something like a silver raincoat with a hood attached. It is composed of a special reflective material that is capable of kicking an image back to the eyes of the observer. Video cameras are positioned to take pictures of the scenery directly behind the person wearing the raincoat; that perspective is then processed by a computer. Ultimately a computer enhanced image is projected on to the raincoat. The coat’s unique material reflects the image from the raincoat back to the observer. What the observer now sees is an uninterrupted scene of the entire image behind the person in the raincoat which blends into the areas outside of the raincoat, making for all intents and purposes, the person in the raincoat invisible.”
“Why couldn’t such a technique be used for national defense purposes?”
“Well, simply because it requires a highly controlled environment in order to make it work as intended. That type of environment does not exist on a dynamic battlefield. However, we are just starting work on a different process which ultimately could make fixed military objects invisible to the enemy; that effort does show signs of practical possibilities. Much of what we are doing in that arena is in the highly classified stage, so I can’t tell you anymore about it.”
“So where do you go from here, as far as making people invisible?”
“We have some limited anecdotal evidence of people who have actually become invisible, not by any elaborate technical trick but through their own mental processes. That evidence is quite strong but is still not understood. In most cases the phenomenon seems to be a spontaneous one; and even if true it’s generally not controllable. In all the examples we have identified, it is a temporary event, usually not lasting more than a few minutes. In at least one case, though, we were told that a person had willed himself to become invisible and it worked. At this stage in our research, regrettably none of the subjects understood what mental forces they triggered to make themselves invisible.
Our job is to verify if these testimonies have a scintilla of truth attached to them. If we witness anything positive, we screen the subjects to determine if we can uncover the mental mechanism that makes them invisible.”
“Have you witnessed this phenomenon yourself, Mr. Lyons?”
Lyons paused and said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. Then he said, “Please look directly behind you, Lieutenant.”
Startled, Fred turned quickly in his chair. He saw nothing.
Lyons laughed, “I’m sorry, a just a little bit more humor, compliments of the Stealth Division. Of course, Lieutenant, if someone were invisible you would not be able to see him anyway, would you?”
Fred didn’t enjoy being the butt of a continuous joke at his expense. “I am serious. Have you ever seen an example of invisibility?”
Lyons became serious. “Let’s just say I would rather not talk about it.”
Wow, Fred thought, he has witnessed it.
As Fred left the office he noticed that all of the three office modules were vacant. The area was as quiet as death, yet Fred sensed a presence near him. That’s insane, of course, nothing is there, he said to himself.
But as he exited the division, the hairs on his neck begin to rise.