MIND FIELDS (16 page)

“After that, we figured we were ready for the big time.  Our first real target…”

“Yeah, I read about that one,” O’Grady said with a smile.

“Thought you might have,” JT said proudly.  “Well, we got him to hurt someone he trusted more than his own mother, and to kill himself in the process.  If we can do that, we can do anything.”

  O’Grady listened intently as he ate.  He was clearly pleased.

  JT Anderson felt much better when he walked out of Flanagan’s than he had when he walked in.

  The crab cakes
were
good.

__

  “Two beef burritos, extra hot, two sides of slaw, two Cokes.”  The heavyset woman with graying, medium-length hair slapped the freshly wrapped burritos down on the counter.  “Anything else, hon?”

  “That’ll do it.  Thanks.” Richie paid her and grabbed the burritos off the counter.  Every Wednesday, he and Hank would treat themselves to lunch at Lexington Market.  It was Richie’s turn to buy this week.

  He walked over to the table that Hank was holding for them.  “Here you go, buddy.”  He set the bag on the table and pulled up a chair.

  “God, I love these things.”  Hank had already pulled his food out of the bag and taken a hearty bite out of his burrito by the time Richie settled in.

  Kincade smiled as he watched Hank frantically grab for his Coke as the hot sauce kicked in.  “What a wuss.”

  Hank snarled as his took a swig of his soda, two things not easily done simultaneously.  He put the can down and belched.

  “Nice, Hank.  Real nice.”

  “Thanks.  Say, what’d you think of Shelly?  Pretty hot, huh?”

  “Oh yeah.  How’d you get her to go out with someone like you, anyway?”

  “Oh she was dyin’ for me, man.  She was just lucky I called her, you know? 

  “Yup, one lucky gal.”  Richie didn’t even feign sincerity.

  “Did she help you out on that BNI case?  Anything useful?”

  “Very.”  Kincade still wasn’t sure what was going on at BNI, but his strange meeting with JT Anderson this morning had convinced him that there was something there worth digging for.

  “Good.  Hey, what do you think of the Ravens’ chances against the Packers this weekend?”  Hank didn’t mind talking about his success with a gorgeous woman, but he hated talking about work when he didn’t really have to.  He always changed the topic of conversation to sports at the first opportunity.

  “Hadn’t thought about it much.  I’m not really into football yet.  It’s still too early in the season.”  Kincade was proud to root for the local teams, but he was more of a fair weather fan.  He liked to see if the team was a playoff contender before he invested his precious weekend time watching the games.

  They ate quietly for a few minutes, only peripherally aware of the CNN newscast that blared from the TV hanging in the corner of the room.  The presidential primary campaign updates were starting to show up more often as candidates declared their interest in the battle to become the Republican nominee who would challenge the incumbent Democratic president.  Huntley Forsyth was one of the most popular presidents in history and many of the leading Republicans were hesitant to join a race they were likely to lose.

  An attractive young news anchor on CNN was interviewing one of the few who decided to take on the improbable task of unseating President Forsyth:  Senator Russell Stetson of Maryland.  The local senator had a lot of friends in Baltimore.

  “Turn it up, turn it up.  I went to school with Stetson,” someone shouted from a table at the other end of the dining area. 

  The TV volume rose and filled the room.  It was no longer easy to ignore as background drivel, and the two detectives focused on the television along with everyone else.

  “Even if you do manage to capture your own party’s nomination, do you think a young senator like yourself really has a chance against President Forsyth?” the reporter asked a polished looking Senator Stetson, grinning ear to ear and dressed in a pin-striped, three piece suit.

  “I’ve got nothing but respect for Mr. Forsyth.  He’s a heck of a nice guy, but I think the American people need and deserve more than a nice guy.  Sure, life is good for Americans now, but the world remains a tinderbox and we’ve been resting on our laurels for too long.  Our military is the weakest it has been in three decades.  We’re getting soft in the middle, and there are those who salivate at a chance to hit us when we’re down.  I aim to make America strong again and assure that this wonderful lifestyle we enjoy will still be here for our children when their time comes.

  The sound dimmed as CNN faded to commercial.

“Spoken like a true Republican, eh Richie.”

Kincade was preoccupied, still staring at the screen.

“Richie?”

“Uh, yeah…true Republican.  Say, what do you know about this guy Stetson?  I know he’s our own senator, but I never pay much attention to politics.”

“Oh, real up and comer.  This guy’s either really got something on the ball, or he’s got something on a lot of people in Washington.  I mean, he’s like forty-seven, forty-eight … something like that, and he’s already on his second term in the Senate.  He’s got the ear of the majority leader, and was even rumored to have been offered the VP slot on the Republican ticket in the last election.  He supposedly would have gotten it too, if it weren’t for his age.  Everybody likes this guy.”

“What’d he do before politics?”

“Hey, I’m not a total geek, you know.”

“Sorry.”

“Actually,” Hank said, “I’m embarrassed to say that I do know the answer to that one, though.  See, Stetson worked at GE in the legal department with my brother-in-law, Bill.  That’s how I know so much about him. I’ve got to admit, I’m no political whiz kid either.  Bill say’s Stetson was a great schmoozer.  You know, knew just what to say and what to do to get on everybody’s good side.  Bill never trusted him, though.  Said he knew his stuff, but he had kind of a skewed view on life, a supporter of the idea that the government should control of all aspects of our lives.  Not too big on the personal freedom thing.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  “Yeah, but that was all on the QT.  It was just the kind of stuff that he’d mention to Bill over a two-martini lunch, you know?  On the record, he never says anything that could offend anyone.”

  “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 one 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.”