A Dubious Device: The Nanobot Terror (A Colton Banyon Mystery Book 10)

by Gerald Kubicki

  His secret was very unique. He could talk to a spirit. Since he was a boy, Colton Banyon knew that he was predisposed to speak to spirits and ghosts. Like many people, he could see and hear them when others could not. He had seen ghosts in his old house growing up and was sure that there was something more than just humans and animals in the world that could communicate. He believed in a quote from Albert Einstein. “Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it can only be changed from one form to another.” He believed that after all, when a person died, where did their energy go? The book he had written, “My House,” had recapped some of his experiences with ghosts.

  A few years ago, one started speaking to him on a regular basis. It was all part of a curse, put on him by a Sharman named Abu Patel in India at the request of a then living, but dying person. At first, Banyon had been freaked out by the voice in his head, but he had learned to use the spirit like a researcher to find things.

  The spirit had a definite agenda. He wanted to rid the world of old Nazis or bring them to justice. The spirit was after those Nazis left over from World War II. He also worked against the newer generation which went by another name, but were still brutish, racist, prone to violence, and keen on taking over America. They called themselves the Effort.

  The spirit, who called himself Wolf, responded to any question Banyon asked. But he had to ask a question. The spirit couldn’t tell him about the future, but could research the past. Wolf explained that everything that has happened in the world left an energy trail. Wolf could follow the energy trail and pass on the findings to Banyon. All Wolf needed was a time, a name, and place to begin his search. The world was a big place, with a lot of history, but he had never failed Colton Banyon.

  Wolf could also view current history in real time and had the capacity to view many events or people at once. He told Banyon that he had a big monitor-like portal in front of him at all times. He could divide it up into many small monitors as well. On occasion, Wolf could also put a notion in someone’s head. He sometimes appeared as a ghost, when necessary, to convince them.

  Banyon used Wolf like a modern day cell phone that could track past events. He was like the ultimate search engine. Banyon could just sing out what he wanted and the spirit would reply, although he sometimes told Banyon what he wanted him to hear and not always the data requested.

  Wolf used Banyon to bring down old Nazis and Effort people. Their collaboration had been successful for both. As long as there was an old Nazi or an Effort member involved, Wolf had always come thru with information.

  ***

  Once convinced that he was not being monitored, Banyon turned away from the guard and whispered. “Wolf, are you out there?”

  “I’m here,” an older more cultured voice filled his head. No one else could hear the voice.

  “Wolf, what is going on?”

  “Someone is killing neo-Nazi Aryans,” the spirit replied. “I can’t say that I am unhappy about that.”

  “I know that already,” Banyon huffed. “Tell me something I don’t know. Who is doing the killings?”

  “I don’t know that I can tell you that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, neither the Effort nor an old Nazi seems to be involved,” Wolf replied. “You know what will happen if I violate my curse.”

  Wolf had violated the terms of the curse only once before. Wolf had done it to save his new found grandson. The grandson, Eric Grey, was now part of Banyon’s team, but Banyon and Wolf had lost the ability to communicate for almost a year as a penalty. It had led to a perilous situation. Banyon and his team were almost eliminated. Fortunately, both Banyon and Wolf were very resourceful and had survived.

  “But do you know who has been doing the killings? I know that they are bad guys, but right now, I need help to get out of jail.”

  “The research has already been done. Don’t worry, you will be exonerated. There is nothing to be concerned about. It’s just a matter of time before they release you and we can go after more Nazis.” Wolf had proven to be very selfish many times in the past. He cared little about what happened to anyone that didn’t affect his goals.

  “But people are dying, Wolf. Can’t you do something? No matter what, murder is still murder.”

  “So far, they are all Aryan assholes. Why would I interfere? My goal is to rid the world of these vermin.”

  “Wait, you said so far. Did I hear you correctly?”

  “You heard me properly.”

  Chapter Six

  M

  artha Wright sat on a couch in her daughter’s living room. She had been living with her daughter for several years now. The sixty-four year old woman had no place else to live. She had moved in because, as she described him, her arrogant, nasty, son-of-a-bitch, husband had landed in jail for killing a man in a bar. He had used a beer bottle to cut the man’s throat. She had loved him, but now was not sure.

  His defense had cost her everything. The defense lawyer cost over three hundred thousand dollars. They lost their house, their car and all of their merger savings in the attempt to keep him from being incarcerated. It didn’t help as he was charged with a hate crime, the victim was black. Then as soon as he got to jail, he killed another inmate, and was currently sequestered in solitary confinement. He was a lifer now. She rarely went to visit him anymore. He was just so bitter and mad at the world.

  Martha blamed it all on the heinous people he hung out with. The people he called friends. She and her husband had been lovers since junior high school. He had been a good man back then. She had known her husband before he had turned into the monster that terrorized prisoners in the security correction facility. Before all the tattoos, the shaved head, the knives, the guns, and the black leather outfits. It was before he lost his job to a village in China. He had turned bitter and blamed everyone for his short comings. He had found people who thought like he did.

  His new friends were all neo-Nazi Aryans who mostly drank all day and harassed people. They put the notion in his head that he was superior despite not even finishing high school and having no marketable skills. She was very disappointed with how her life had turned out. She knew that her daughter didn’t want her living with them either. She was thankful that she still had family.

  She noticed the small mustard-brown package on the coffee table. Darren, her husband, had given it to her on her last visit. He said he had bought it for her and she should read it to understand him better. She had avoided opening the package for three weeks, but had nothing better to do today. She picked it up and ripped it open. A book tumbled out.

  Three hours later, Martha’s daughter found her dead on the couch, her face in a grimace, her body contorted. The book lay half-finished by her side.

  Chapter Seven

  A

  bout an hour after he had been sent to the holding cell, Colton Banyon was again handcuffed and led back to the interrogation room by a friendlier officer. When he entered, Detective Haleigh Taylor was already seated at the table. She appeared anxious to talk to Banyon.

  He was confused and concerned. Wolf had refused to help solve the mystery. He instead told Banyon to find a connection with one of Wolf’s Nazi targets before he could help. When Banyon had asked him how he could solve the mystery on his own, all Wolf would say was “follow the evidence”.

  Detective Taylor began asking questions before Banyon was seated. This time they didn’t chain him to the table. She seemed anxious to Banyon.

  “Do you know how many books you have sent to prisons in the last four weeks?” She nervously asked as she twirled her golden hair with her finger.

  “I have no idea,” he replied. “I don’t recall ever sending a book to a prison,” he added with emphasis.

  Your PayPal account shows that you have sent fifteen books to prison inmates in the last month.

  “That many? That doesn’t seem right. How can that be true?” Banyon quickly realized that something was wrong. That was a large number and he didn’t have any re
collection of sending them.

  “You were paid for them through your PayPal account. We have the records,” the detective explained as she held up a piece of paper.

  “But I don’t remember sending any books to prisons,” he lamented.

  “Then how did they get there?”

  “I don’t know,” Banyon blustered loudly. “You’re the detective. You figure it out. Can I go now?”

  “On another front,” Detective Taylor announced as she gave the stop sign with her hand. “We have our first recorded civilian casualty.” The detective said sadly.

  “Someone else died?” Banyon was feeling panicked again.

  “An older woman died this morning.”

  Banyon thought for a second and then asked a question. “Does the casualty have a connection to an inmate?”

  “Yes,” Detective Taylor advised him. “She was the wife of an inmate at the Ely State Prison.”

  “And was my book found at the scene?”

  “Both your book and the package that it was sent in was found near her body. They are being tested as we speak.”

  “Is she listed on my PayPal account?” Banyon quickly asked.

  “No, but her husband is.”

  “Do you think that he ordered the book knowing that it would kill her?” Banyon asked as he considered the possibility that the inmate wanted his wife dead.

  “At this point anything is possible. The one thing we know for sure right now is that your book is involved somehow,” the detective explained.

  “And do you still think that I’m killing my own readers,” Banyon asked.

  “No, I no longer think that you are the one killing these people, Mr. Banyon,” Detective Taylor admitted.

  “That’s good to hear,” Banyon said almost sarcastically. “Why do you say that? What has changed your mind?”

  “We found only your thumb print on each of the books. We found all the finger prints of the victims, but only one of your fingerprints on each book. You can’t handle a book with just one finger, can you?” Banyon was beginning to feel that Detective Haleigh Taylor was pretty smart.

  “So, you think that the prints were somehow placed on the books on purpose. Is that right?”

  “I think that you have been set up,” The detective continued.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because, more inmate murders have been reported,” she quickly replied. “Another book, from another author, was found in their cells.”

  “What can you tell me about the other author?”

  “He writes books like yours. Lots of Aryan asshole stuff,” Detective Taylor said with a waving of her arms in the air.

  “It looks like a trend to me.” Banyon replied under his breath.

  Chapter Eight

  T

  he Nevada’s Department of Corrections system consisted of both jails and prisons. They are often referred to as “correction facilities”. Jails are used to hold prisoners for less than a year or those awaiting an upcoming trial. They are usually located in the cities and counties around the state. The prison facilities, of which there are nine, are usually located in remote out of the way areas with nothing around them for miles. The state of Nevada runs all the prisons in Nevada. There are no Federal prisons in the state and no Federal help to finance them.

  Nevada’s prisons have minimum, medium and maximum security areas. They also have separate facilities for women and men. This all added to the cost and like many states today, the prisons are vastly overcrowded and have to deal with continued budget cuts. State legislators are always under siege to reduce the cost of incarceration in the face of the increasing number of inmates. The cost of maintaining a prisoner is not going down.

  To make things worse, Nevada is a death penalty state as well. Several of the correction facilities in the state have a dedicated “death row”. The prisoners on death row are generally kept away from the general prison population because some of them have killed other inmates. They have nothing to lose. They also require special attention and a higher number of correction officers per inmate. The cost of housing the death row inmates is staggering, and in the last several years the state has been reluctant to execute its prisoners.

  The records show Nevada executed their first murderer before it had even become a state. The first official hanging took place in 1860. Nevada became a state in 1864. Since then there have been seventy-four executions in Nevada. There are currently over eighty inmates on death row. The last execution was in 2006. Some inmates have lasted there as long as thirty years before dying of natural causes, all paid for by the state treasuries.

  Although Nevada does not have a Federal prison, used for the most hardened prisoners convicted in Federal court, the Nevada prison system does contain a social element that originated in the Federal prisons, prison gangs. The gangs contain many criminals that are tied together in a blood oath and some who had served in other prisons. Prison gangs are present in all the facilities. One of the strongest and most feared prison gangs is the Aryan Brotherhood.

  It was the death row inmates of the Aryan Brotherhood that were targeted by the unknown killer in Nevada. No one knew if the murderer was driven by revenge, cost cutting measures, insanity, bloodlust or something else.

  At the present time, law enforcement authorities didn’t understand that the murders were actually committed by members of the Aryan Brotherhood as an experiment — and for the publicity.

  Chapter Nine

  “W

  hy do you think that someone is trying to set you up, Mr. Banyon,” Detective Taylor guardedly asked as she fumbled with some paper.

  “Call me Colt, please,” he quickly responded. He detected a change in her approach to him and wondered why?

  “Alright, I’ll call you Colt,” she replied. “Now give me a reason to continue to be nice to you.”

  “I have no idea why someone would set me up,” he added as he shook his head. “Maybe they don’t like my writing.”

  Haleigh Taylor did not react to his joke, but she did change tactics. “Well answer this for me then. We have had a devil of a time trying to collect some background on you, Colt. Why is that?”

  “I work for Dewey & Beatem & Associates. They are a law firm in Chicago. Speak to the managing partner, his name is Bart Longwood. He can vouch for me,” Banyon told her with confidence. He didn’t want to tell her that he really worked for the President of the United States. It would only beg more questions.

  “We’ll do that,” she retorted. “The FBI says that your files are sealed,” she further commented. “We have also gotten a call from the Secretary of Homeland Security and the White House. They are all very interested in your situation, Colt”

  “I do have some friends,” he commented, thinking of the President and Marlene Moore, the Secretary of Homeland Security.

  “And I think that you are hiding something. Care to share?” Her voice was demanding but not threatening.

  Banyon had plenty to hide and sensed that solving the mystery would keep those secrets from being revealed. “I know nothing about these murders, but I might be able to help you solve them. I’m kind of good at solving mysteries.” In the back of his mind, the words; follow the evidence, kept repeating.

  “I’ve been told that,” she said flatly.

  “Do you want my help?”

  “I’m told that you could help us crack this case. Just how would you do that?” She was becoming sarcastic and leaned forward, mocking him as she spoke. Banyon could clearly see that she didn’t want any help but was probably ordered to seek his assistance. He needed to win her over.

  “We need to follow the evidence,” he quickly blurted out for lack of anything better to say.

  “What evidence?” she exclaimed as she hammered the desk with her open hand. “We don’t even know how these murders were committed. We don’t know the cause of death of inmates. We don’t know why they were killed. As far as we can tell, the only connection between them is t
hat they were all murdering Aryan Brotherhood assholes, and they all ordered your book or the other author’s book. What evidence do we actually have?” Detective Haleigh Taylor was clearly frustrated. “Hell, we don’t even have any possible suspects.”

  “Well,” Banyon started. “We do have some evidence. We know that all the victims were sent a book, right? And we know I didn’t send the books. That means that someone else sent them the books.”

  “The money went into your account though. Also, all the books went sent from Chicago under your FedEx number.” she informed him.

  Banyon now realized she had divulged new information. “Can’t you find out who ordered the books?”

  “They were all ordered through your website using prepaid credit cards. Each man ordered the book under his own name. It’s a dead end. There is no possible way to identify who paid for the orders.”

  “There might be another way. Maybe we can find out who is behind placing the orders,” he replied after some thought.

  “I’m listening,” she said impatiently as she tapped her manicured fingernails on the metal table top.

  “I’m pretty sure you won’t find that the orders were placed by any computers in the prison system. I don’t think that the victims actually ordered the books,” he commented. “Somebody else ordered the books.”

  Detective Taylor suddenly started writing on a pad of paper. “That’s an interesting intuitive thought,” she acknowledged. “Do you have more?”

  Banyon continued. “So where were the orders for the books placed? That’s the question. I’m guessing someone placed all the orders from the same computer. If we can get that, we might get lucky and find our murderer,” he explained.

  “But couldn’t they place the orders from many computers?” she countered. “That’s what I would do.”