“And what about your electromagnetic spectrum doohickey?” asked Vince. “Did it tell you anything?”
“Nothing, so far,” said Akash, “but this is great. We’ve got our first data point, and it proves my plan to map the size and shape of the Dead Zone is a sound one. Why don’t you get back in, and we’ll head in another direction to the next road.”
The two men repeated Akash’s strategy on several more roads on the west and south of town. Each time, Akash carefully noted and stored the exact spot where the motorcycle had stalled out. On the main highway south from Cottonwood, all the previously stalled-out cars had now been cleared away, but Akash noted that the tour bus remained, and, predictably, Vince gave the cut-sign and Akash heard the motorcycle engine die out within a few hundred feet of where the tour bus was stranded.
“Guess they still haven’t found something large enough that’s electric to tow this bus away,” said Vince as Akash stood nearby on the highway, next to the trailer.
Akash wasn’t looking at the bus; he was staring out at the large and relatively flat terrain extending out toward the east from the highway and then rising up dramatically to the rugged mountain range beyond. “Let’s get that motorcycle down from the trailer,” said Akash, turning around and walking toward the back of the trailer. “And make sure it has plenty of gas.”
From where they had been on the highway, Akash followed along on foot behind Vince, who rode the motorcycle in a slow, plodding zigzag pattern across the field. When Vince would head to his left, which was toward Cottonwood, the motorcycle would stall out. Akash would then catch up and carefully note the exact point on his GPS unit. Vince would then push the motorcycle just a few feet, usually under twenty, toward his right, and he was then able to restart the motorcycle.
In this way, the two men proceeded across the field for several miles, with Akash quickly entering dozens of what he called his “data points” into the global positioning unit. Eventually, they came upon a natural barrier, preventing them from continuing any further to the east—the Little Bear River.
The two men were both more than happy to take a rest and sit by the river. It was late afternoon, and the cool breeze by the river was a nice change from the heat of the highway and field they’d just crossed.
“Don’t be surprised if we see a dead body floatin’ by,” said Vince, catching Akash by surprise, as he was nearly napping and lying back in the grass.
“What was that?” Akash asked, sitting up.
“We’ve got a missing person here in town,” said Vince. “His name is Old Blind Carl—one of Cottonwood’s best citizens. He’s gone missing, now goin’ on about three days. We looked for him on Saturday, just north of here along the river, but no luck. Maybe his body was tangled up in weeds or somethin’, and we missed it. Anyway, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if we saw his bloated body floatin’ past us.”
“What makes you so sure he’s dead?” asked Akash. “You said he was missing—not dead.”
“All I know is the sheriff wouldn’t have had us searching out here unless he suspected something. I also heard a rumor that the sheriff has the old man’s cane. The only reason a blind man wouldn’t be needin’ his cane anymore—is because he’s dead.”
“Maybe he got a new cane, or maybe he’s sick and in bed or just lost it, or maybe for a thousand other reasons,” said Akash. “In all my years of investigation, my intuition has taught me to never focus on just one answer to a mystery or jump to the easy answer, or you might never find the right answer. It seems Cottonwood has two mysteries—a missing blind man and a Dead Zone.”
“And my intuition tells me they’re related,” admitted Vince, staring at Akash.
“The government again? Behind both?” replied Akash.
“It sure all adds up—when you stop and think about it. What better place to test an electromagnetic-pulse weapon. Old Blind Carl knew too much.” Vince said, continuing to stare.
“I don’t agree,” Akash replied quickly, “but I do think it’s time we head back to the highway.”
Akash rode on the back of the motorcycle as Vince drove it back to the highway and the car and trailer. Vince was careful to take a more southerly route back to the highway to avoid going into the Dead Zone and stalling out the motorcycle. Their original trail was quite easily seen in the dirt.
There were no real roads due east of Cottonwood for Akash and Vince to conduct their testing, but they drove north, through the town and past the Home, and gathered the one last data point Akash wanted. Precisely on cue, the motorcycle stalled out approximately five miles north of Cottonwood. Akash barely noticed the two roadside-memorial markers very close to where he’d gathered this final data point. They then drove back to town, and Akash thanked Vince for his help as he dropped him off at the starting point of Al’s Garage.
“What’s the next step?” asked Vince while unhooking the trailer and towing ball from the electric car.
“I will begin an analysis of the data,” replied Akash, getting back into his car. “Now that we’ve dropped off the motorcycle, can I give you a ride home?”
“Nope, I’ll walk. Thanks all the same.”
Akash promised to keep Vince updated on anything he found out as the investigation progressed—even if it ended up looking like a government conspiracy. He also asked Vince where the best place was to get a great meal in Cottonwood, and of course Ernie’s Diner was immediately suggested. Akash headed directly there, planning to eat first and then do a quick analysis of all the data he had gathered during the afternoon. He would satisfy his stomach first and then his scientific curiosity. As he pulled up in front of the restaurant and was walking toward the front door, through the window of the diner he spotted Agent Westmore sitting alone in a booth. The agent didn’t seem to notice Akash walking by, as he was intensely engaged in reading something.
Sixty-Seven
Perfect Pies & Perfect Circles
After devouring several jumbo Tasty Burgers, Agent Westmore was still hungry for dessert, and nothing on the fast-food menu interested him. He wandered down Main Street, stopping by the Cottonwood Inn to secure himself a room for the night, and then made his way over to Ernie’s Diner, where he sat for several hours drinking coffee and trying all four varieties of fresh homemade pies on the menu—apple, peach, blueberry, and banana cream. It was not his custom to make a glutton of himself, but he realized he hadn’t had a full meal since eating at the Golden Spike Restaurant & Hotel in Ogden two days before. He remembered that meal as outstanding—but the homemade pies he was enjoying at Ernie’s were the best he’d ever tasted. The fruit fillings burst with flavor in his mouth, and the flaky crust melted on his tongue in a golden brown delight—he had found pie heaven.
While enjoying his extended dessert, he read through more of Matthew Duncan’s case files, all of which were a continuation of the court transcripts of The People vs. Matthew William Duncan. Though generally engaged with the transcripts, he was occasionally distracted by the waitress coming by to refill his coffee, remove an empty pie plate, bring a new variety of pie, or by the occasional sound of a cowbell being rung and the scattered cheers that always followed. He had asked his waitress what the ruckus was all about, and she mentioned something about a “miracle fridge,” but her answer made little sense to him.
Over the course of the afternoon, he worked his way through many of the last documents, until only a very few remained. The prosecution had rested its case, and the defense had called only a few witnesses. Agent Westmore’s anticipation grew, as he knew the major witness the defense was planning to bring to the stand was to be Matthew Duncan himself. While finishing a piece of banana cream pie, he began to read the next file in the case:
Edgewood Court Transcript, Part X
Edgewood County Court
Official Court Transcript
Case #020086044
The People vs. Matthew William Duncan
(WHEREUPON the following was heard and recorded in open
court, to wit:)
Bailiff: All rise. Court is now in session. The Honorable Montgomery S. Nelson, presiding.
Judge Nelson: Thank you, and welcome back everyone. Happy New Year. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday. Jurors, we especially thank you for amending your holiday plans, as necessary, so that we can finish up this trial in this first week of the new year. The defense should be ready to call its next witness. Ms. Yates, are you ready?
Ms. Yates: I am, Your Honor, and a Happy New Year to you as well. The defense would now like to call Matthew Duncan to the stand.
Judge Nelson: Mr. Duncan, would you please rise and approach the stand to be sworn in by the bailiff.
Bailiff: Do you, Matthew Duncan, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, under penalty of perjury, so help you God?
Mr. Duncan: I do.
Bailiff: You may take the stand.
Ms. Yates: Mr. Duncan, first of all, do you fully realize that you are presumed innocent in this case, and there is absolutely no requirement that you take the witness stand in your own defense?
Mr. Duncan: I do realize that.
Ms. Yates: And furthermore, Mr. Duncan, do you realize that if you didn’t take the witness stand, the jury could not consider that fact in any way to draw any conclusions about your guilt or innocence?
Mr. Duncan: I understand that.
Ms. Yates: Good. Well, first of all, could you tell the court what it is that you do for a living?
Mr. Duncan: Currently, I don’t do anything. I’ve been living in the jail for over six months. They’ve given me a place to sleep and three meals a day. It’s all very nice of them, but I really do like to pull my own weight.
(Courtroom laughter)
Ms. Yates: Well, prior to being in jail, what was it you did for a living?
Mr. Duncan: I was a forest ranger for the United States Forest Service.
Ms. Yates: And how many years did you do that?
Mr. Duncan: I guess for about four years or so.
Ms. Yates: Mr. Duncan, do you recall being a patient at the Edgewood Medical Center in late May of last year?
Mr. Duncan: Very clearly, yes.
Ms. Yates: And do you recall what you were admitted to the medical center for?
Mr. Duncan: I was taken there initially for a head wound and, I guess, for the inability to communicate verbally.
Ms. Yates: And was it the head wound that caused you to be admitted to the hospital?
Mr. Duncan: No, I’m pretty sure it was my inability to verbally communicate. I don’t think the head wound was that serious.
Ms. Yates: And so, to what part of the hospital were you admitted—that is, what unit were you a patient in while at Edgewood Medical Center?
Mr. Silverstein: Objection, Your Honor. I don’t see the relevancy of this line of questioning.
Judge Nelson: Overruled. His general situation while at the medical center certainly could be relevant to this case. Proceed, Ms. Yates.
Ms. Yates: Thank you, Your Honor. Again, Mr. Duncan, on what unit of the medical center were you a patient in late May of last year?
Mr. Duncan: On the Psychiatric Unit.
Ms. Yates: And this was because of your inability to verbally communicate?
Mr. Duncan: That’s right.
Ms. Yates: And during your time at the hospital, did you come to know of or come into contact with a patient by the name of Mr. Dominic Montoya?
Mr. Duncan: I did.
Ms. Yates: And could you tell us under which circumstances you came into contact with him?
Mr. Duncan: The first time I met Dominic was during my time in the emergency room as I was being admitted. I believe he was admitted at about the same time. The second time was when I went to his room.
Ms. Yates: And during either of those times, did you ever come into physical contact with him?
Mr. Duncan: I never touched him physically, no, but we did have contact.
Ms. Yates: And could you tell us what the nature of the contact you had with Mr. Montoya was?
Mr. Duncan: Which time?
Ms. Yates: Did you actually have contact with him while he was in the emergency room?
Mr. Duncan: It depends on what you mean by contact, I suppose.
Ms. Yates: Why don’t you just tell us about the nature of the interaction you had with him during each of those times.
Mr. Duncan: Well, the first time, he was being operated on in a room adjacent to mine in the emergency room. And the second time, I visited his hospital room a day or so after his surgery.
Ms. Yates: So the first time, you were not even in the same room as him?
Mr. Duncan: That’s correct.
Ms. Yates: And the second time you visited Mr. Montoya—tell us more about that.
Mr. Duncan: I went to his room and sat by his bedside. We talked for a while.
Ms. Yates: And you said you did not physically touch him or any of the equipment in his room?
Mr. Duncan: I did not. The only thing I physically touched was the chair I was sitting in—and the floor, I suppose.
Ms. Yates: Did you go to Mr. Montoya’s room with any intention at all of causing him any harm?
Mr. Duncan: Of course not—quite the opposite.
Ms. Yates: The “opposite?” What do you mean by that, exactly?
Mr. Duncan: I wanted to give him a chance to live.
Ms. Yates: Was his life in jeopardy?
Mr. Silverstein: Objection, Your Honor. This calls for witness speculation, and he has not been established as an expert in the medical field.
Judge Nelson: Sustained. Rephrase the question, Ms. Yates.
Ms. Yates: Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. Duncan, did you feel that Mr. Montoya’s life was in jeopardy?
Mr. Duncan: I did.
Ms. Yates: And that’s why you went to his room?
Mr. Duncan: Yes.
Ms. Yates: Thank you, Mr. Duncan. I have no further questions.
Judge Nelson: Mr. Silverstein, cross-examine the witness?
Mr. Silverstein: Thank you, Your Honor. How are you today, Mr. Duncan?
Mr. Duncan: I’m very well, thank you.
Mr. Silverstein: I’m glad to hear that. Now, just a few minutes ago you stated that you visited with Mr. Montoya at the Edgewood Medical Center. Do you recall saying that?
Mr. Duncan: Of course.
Mr. Silverstein: Good, because there are some additional questions related to your contact or, as you stated, your multiple contacts with Mr. Montoya that I’d like to ask you. Let’s begin with your alleged first contact in the emergency room at the hospital. You say you had contact with him there, correct?
Mr. Duncan: As I said before, it depends on what you mean by contact. I think Ms. Yates used the term “interaction.” That works for me.
Mr. Silverstein: Thank you for that clarification. Could you tell us more about the nature of that interaction?
Mr. Duncan: The first time, he was being operated on, and I was in a room right next door being treated for my head wound.
Mr. Silverstein: I’m not sure I follow that, Mr. Duncan. How was there a chance for interaction with Mr. Montoya at that time? Were you in the same room as Mr. Montoya?
Mr. Duncan: No, there was a wall between us. I think it was a brick wall.
Mr. Silverstein: So, how did you have interaction with Mr. Montoya through that brick wall? Was it verbal? Did you yell or scream out to him?
Mr. Duncan: No, I wasn’t able to speak at the time.
Mr. Silverstein: So again, how was it possible to interact with him through that wall?
Mr. Duncan: That’s a good question. I’m not sure exactly how it’s possible. I’m not sure I currently have the right words to explain it.
Mr. Silverstein: The right words? What do you mean by that?
Mr. Duncan: I mean that words can often fall short of describing things. Reality is often so much bigger than our vocabulary—especially when that reality suddenly expands. Wo
rds can’t catch up and possibly never do.
Mr. Silverstein: Okay, well, that’s all very interesting, but the fact remains, in the words that you yourself used, that you had some kind of contact or interaction with Mr. Montoya through a brick wall. Is that correct?
Mr. Duncan: That’s what I said, yes.
Mr. Silverstein: Okay, rather than quibble then about how such interaction could be possible—tell us more about the nature of that interaction. What sort of interaction was there?
Mr. Duncan: Again, it’s hard to describe in so many words. Words simply can muddy the waters—so to speak.
Mr. Silverstein: I’m sure they do, but go ahead and give it a try anyway.
Mr. Duncan: Well, in a single instant, I could see Mr. Montoya’s entire life—all that he’d done, all that he stood for, and all that he meant to the world and those around him—his complete life was open to me.
Mr. Silverstein: What do you mean by that?
Mr. Duncan: Each of us, by our actions and intentions, creates a sort of story of our life. Some call that the book of our life and some call it karma. The important thing is—it is what we mean to the world.
Mr. Silverstein: Okay, and you could see his book or Mr. Montoya’s karma through that brick wall in the emergency room? Is that what you’re saying?
Mr. Duncan: Yes, I could. The wall didn’t matter, and it was as though it were not even there. What Mr. Montoya’s life meant to the world was clear to me.
Mr. Silverstein: And why Mr. Montoya? What about others in the room with you at the time, or even me right now? Can you read our books too?
Mr. Duncan: I can, but is that important to what you want to know right now? Don’t you really just want to attempt to prove that my actions brought about Dominic’s death? Isn’t that what you mean to the world right now?
Mr. Silverstein: I’ll ask the questions here, Mr. Duncan, thank you. So, please go on then about Mr. Montoya’s book. What did his book, the one that you were reading through the brick wall, tell you about his life?
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