Delirious (45 page)

“But I killed people,” Joe said. “I did it.”

Charlie shifted position so that he could see his brother’s face. The truck had picked up speed. They were on the highway now. Charlie had to shout to be heard.

“Do you remember anything?” Charlie asked. “Rudy Gomes? Do you remember ever meeting him? Hurting him?”

Joe shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “I don’t remember a thing. All I can remember are these horrible nightmares I’ve been having lately. I killed two men in the one I had last night.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Charlie said.

“I’m scared, Charlie.”

“Whatever happens,” Charlie called out, “you’re my brother. I will fight for you. We both know the truth. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You know something?” Joe shouted back. “For the first time since we were kids, I actually believe you.”

R
achel, Charlie, and Joe stood outside Arthur Bean’s apartment in Waltham. Charlie never saw the face of the man who had driven them there. Rachel had waved good-bye and said something to the driver. He’d left with a single toot of his horn, turned the truck right onto Main Street, and driven out of sight.

Charlie knew the neighborhood well. It couldn’t be more than a few miles from where Joe lived with their mother. Where they all lived, he reminded himself. Arthur Bean lived on Pleasant Street, only a short walk to a robust downtown with plenty of shopping, restaurants, and a well-respected art house cinema.

Charlie didn’t know much about Bean but thought he was married. Rachel made a move toward the apartment entrance. She stopped at the steps.

“My watch died when it got wet,” she said, looking down at her wrist. “But it has to be after ten. What makes you think he’ll be home?”

Charlie laughed. “Bean’s like a lot of coders I know. Even if he got a new job, that guy keeps vampire hours. The only way he’s not home is if he’s on vacation.”

“Let’s hope for you that he kept his new gig local,” Rachel said.

Together they climbed the short flight of stairs and rang the bell to the second-floor apartment. Then they waited.

Charlie heard footsteps and he saw through a window on the door Arthur Bean run down the stairs to the small foyer. Bean was a short, stocky man with a flat nose, deep-set eyes, and a wide face bordered by a bushy dark beard. Between the beard and his thick
arms and legs, Charlie couldn’t help but think of the dwarf from the film trilogy
The Lord of the Rings.
He held a steaming mug of coffee, which dropped and shattered on the wooden floor once he saw who was greeting him.

“Holy Jesus,” he said. “Charlie, everybody is looking for … I mean, everybody,” he stammered. He managed another “Holy Jesus” before backing away.

Charlie didn’t hesitate. He stepped inside the small foyer as Bean backed himself up the stairs leading to his second-floor apartment.

“Arthur, I need your help,” Charlie said.

Bean continued his retreat. “You need more than my help,” he said.

“I know what the police reports are saying,” Charlie said. “But it’s not as it seems. This is Dr. Rachel Evans.” Charlie motioned toward her. “She’s with Walderman Hospital in Belmont. And this is my brother, Joe.”

“Yeah?” Bean asked. “Great to meet you all. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to call the cops.”

“Arthur,” Rachel said in her best psychologist tone. “Somebody is using InVision to control Charlie’s brother. They’ve hacked into it and used sound and music to trigger epileptic seizures.”

Bean interrupted his retreat a moment and crossed his arms. He was a third of the way up the stairs. “Hacked into InVision,” he breathed. “I told you that OS was a sieve.”

“I know you did, Arthur. I know. But now I need your help,” said Charlie.

“You’re wanted for murder, Charlie,” Bean said. “I can’t help you.”

“Look,” Charlie said, holding up the waterlogged InVision system he had extracted from Joe’s Camry. “I need to get at the system registry. Somebody hacked it, and I’m hoping there is still an artifact of the IP used. Just give me ten minutes of your time. Take a look at the OS. If you don’t see anything that looks like a hack to you, I’ll dial the cops myself.”

Rachel and Joe looked at Charlie with alarm. Bean uncrossed his arms. Charlie took his blank expression as him calculating his next move.

“Look, Arthur,” Charlie said. “I know that I treated you unfairly. I was wrong. But there is nothing I can do to take it back. If I could, I
would. But I promise you, what we’re saying is true. And you’re the only person who can keep my brother and me from spending the rest of our lives in prison for something we didn’t do. Ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

“You guys are soaked,” Bean said.

“The InVision system triggered my seizure,” Joe said. “Then it commanded me to drive my car off a bridge and into a lake. I would have killed my brother and Rachel. Arthur, please help us. We have to know what is going on.”

“I knew that thing was a traveling security hole,” Bean said.

“Will you help us?” Rachel asked.

“Ten minutes,” Bean said. “If I don’t find anything, I’m calling the cops. Give me five minutes to set up a Webcam. If you guys try anything stupid, all I have to do is hit SEND and I’ll have the police here faster than you can say nine-one-one.”

“H
oly shit,” Bean whispered.

“What is it?” Charlie asked, leaning over Bean’s shoulder to get a better look.

Arthur Bean’s crowded office looked like a science experiment gone haywire. Dozens of computers were strewn about the tiny room, which had once been the back porch. He had converted it into his personal lab. At least half of the computers were open, revealing a multitude of wires and circuit boards.

Bean had put the waterlogged InVision system onto his desk and plugged it into his desktop computer through a standard USB connection. Arthur Bean was able to access the system’s computer code and the OS using a graphical user interface tool designed for coders and instrumental in debugging applications. He was scanning through endless lines of complex computer code with the efficiency of a speed reader.

“Unbelievable,” Bean said.

“What? What’s unbelievable?” Charlie asked, peering closer at the nineteen-inch flat-panel computer monitor.

“This is no hack job,” Bean said.

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked.

Joe and Rachel remained seated on a sofa at the far end of the makeshift lab. Their ears perked up. They both leaned in closer to get a better listen.

“I mean, whoever modified the application knew a lot more about the internal workings than just a regular hack.”

“So you agree the code’s been compromised?” Charlie asked.

“Agree? The freaking thing has been rewritten,” said Bean.

“By whom?” Charlie asked, more to himself than to Bean.

“Well, that’s the best part. So you’re right about the protocol used to control this InVision system. It’s not the Wi-Fi. It’s definitely the I P. But what’s great is that there’s a lot of work put into masking any trace of the IP.”

“What’s great about that?” Charlie asked. “Without an I P, I won’t be able to trace the source.”

“Well, let’s just say, if your clothes weren’t soaking wet, we might be out of luck.”

Charlie looked blankly at Bean. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“Whoever did this had to write the IP to the OS registry. Otherwise the ports communicating from wherever this person was located back to the InVision system would have been closed. The application is coded to erase the IP once a session ends. It’s like deleting an e-mail or a voice mail, but in such a way that it could never be retrieved, because it’s written at the lowest level of the operating system. When it’s gone, it’s gone forever.”

“But what does that have to do with our wet clothes?” Charlie asked.

Bean looked up at Charlie from his perch upon his high-tech Herman Miller chair with a wide, almost devious smile.

“Because when this thing hit the water, the OS fried. That little cleaner application never got a chance to clean.”

Charlie slapped Bean on the shoulder. “Did I ever tell you that I should have promoted you to the Magellan Team?” he asked.

“No. I don’t think that was mentioned during my exit interview,” Bean said.

“Look, Arthur,” Charlie said, “I’ll never forget this. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not out of the woods yet,” Bean said. “I still need to get the IP.”

Bean worked for several minutes before calling Charlie back over to his desk. “Got it,” he said.

Using a Web browser, Bean plugged the IP address into a WHOIS database that listed the owner of all registered IP addresses. “A n IP is really no different than your home address,” he told Rachel and Joe.
“If this guy uses a static I P, we’ll be able to give you the town, street, and apartment that it is registered to.”

“And if not?” Charlie asked.

Bean didn’t answer. He hit SEND and frowned at the search results. “Well, that’s a problem,” he said.

“What? What?” Charlie asked.

“This is a Verizon I P. I’d need to get into the Verizon database to pull up the physical address.”

“Is that hard?” Charlie asked.

“Hard?” Bean said with a laugh. “Try almost impossible. Unless you know somebody who works for Verizon.”

“Your hacker club?” Charlie asked.

Bean nodded. “I have contacts all over the world. It’s what we do for fun. Some people like to go to the movies. We like to find weaknesses in computer systems.”

“And someone in your hacker posse works for Verizon?” said Charlie.

“You name a major company and I can find you a hacker on the inside,” Bean said.

“Arthur,” Charlie said, “I need that address.”

Bean thought a moment. He looked at Rachel and Joe, who sat quietly and helplessly on his sofa.

“He really has this …” Bean tried to recall the term.

“Musicogenic epilepsy,” Rachel answered. “And yes, he really does.”

“And somebody was controlling him?” Bean asked.

Rachel and Joe nodded in unison.

“So you’re saying that you’re being framed,” Bean said to Charlie.

“There is no other explanation,” Charlie said.

Bean nodded. “Okay, then let me see what I can do.”

Rachel and Joe stood up and walked toward Arthur and stood behind Charlie.

“There’s one more thing, Arthur,” Charlie said.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Bean asked.

“When you get the address,” Charlie said, “I’m going to need to borrow your car.”

A
rthur Bean didn’t require much convincing. At least, he didn’t require as much as Charlie had anticipated. After all, if things went poorly, then Bean could be charged with aiding and abetting a murder suspect. Perhaps it was the thrill of the mystery, or the power he enjoyed having over Charlie. Whatever his motivation, the only demand he made before handing over the car keys was that one of the three stay behind. It was, as he put it, a little collateral to ensure he’d get his car back. He also insisted that Charlie take one of his cell phones. It had a built-in GPS, so he could track their location. If the car went anywhere other than to the South Boston address, Bean made it clear that he wouldn’t hesitate to call the police. Charlie programmed Bean’s home number on the cell phone speed dial.

“Why don’t you just go to the police?” Bean asked.

Charlie had already thought that one through. “There is more evidence against me than I can even imagine,” he said. “The police aren’t going to be quick to believe me, and even if they did, I’m the only person I trust to make sure all the evidence I need to exonerate myself is collected. I’m not burdened with search warrant responsibility,” he added.

Nobody disagreed with his logic. Rachel volunteered to stay behind, acknowledging that Joe’s physical size and strength might be an asset in what could be an extremely dangerous situation.

“We’ll track you via GPS,” Rachel said. “If things go bad, call and we’ll get the police to the address ASAP.”

Charlie thanked her. They embraced briefly. “I can’t thank you enough,” he whispered in her ear.

She pulled him closer. “Just get what you need and get out,” she whispered back. “I’m looking forward to the dinner date you haven’t asked me out on yet.”

Their eyes locked briefly. They held their embrace long enough for Joe to do a quick double take. Charlie held up a hand to keep his brother from saying something that didn’t need to be said. Moments later Charlie and Joe were in Arthur Bean’s Ford Taurus, heading east toward Boston.

Bean’s source at Verizon found the static IP registered to an address on K Street in South Boston. Charlie knew the area well enough to know it was near Summer Street, but that was about it. The GPS would get them there without needing to stop for directions. Arthur also had a FAST LANE tag, which meant they could avoid risking detection by one of the MassPike toll collectors. So long as they drove at the speed limit and didn’t get into an accident, they felt confident they could make it into the city without being spotted.

A bigger concern was what awaited them on K Street. Charlie hoped that whoever was behind this thought they were dead. Then they wouldn’t be in such a rush to close up shop and make their getaway.

But who?
Charlie wondered. Who had the skills to compromise the InVision OS with such insider knowledge? Who knew enough about the available security holes that enabled the sabotage? Not to mention Joe’s condition and his own history with Eddie Prescott?

Charlie’s mind raced through the Magellan Team members. The name Harry Wessner jumped to the top of the list. It wasn’t the first time Charlie had considered Harry a suspect. Still, he couldn’t fathom what Harry had to gain from his demise. Then again, Harry had access to a lot of tech talent at SoluCent. Money? How would Charlie’s death help Harry Wessner financially? Charlie believed Harry could have pulled it off. But the unanswerable question remained why.

It wasn’t until they were driving down K Street, along the wide, trash-strewn boulevard, flanked by tall, seemingly abandoned warehouses and factories, that he forgot all about the questions. He started to focus his energy on the most important thing of all. Getting the answers.