by Ike Hamill
While the waiter was walking away, and before Jim could resume his explanation, Ed asked his real question, “You ready for another job?”
“Sure. What is it?” Jim asked.
This was a huge change since the first time they had worked together. When Ed had first met Jim, it took him a year and a half to convince him to go to work. Before he met Ed, Jim always had a difficult time starting a job. He would dive into the work head first, but it usually took his co-workers a few months to catch up to Jim’s way of thinking.
But when Ed put Jim into a job, it was always smooth sailing from the first day. The company knew what to expect, and Jim would be productive within hours of sitting down at his new desk.
“There’s a company down in Alexandria. They’ve got big data, but it’s all divided. They’ve got transactional data in one place, operational data in another, and demographics in a third silo. They can’t get decent analytics,” Ed said.
“What’s the infrastructure?” Jim asked.
Ed rattled off a series of acronyms and initialisms.
“And what kind of analytics are they trying to pull? Are we talking basic reporting or are they feeding into BI software?”
Jim peppered Ed with precise questions until the food came. As he chewed his food, Jim was already designing a solution to the problem based on Ed’s description. By the time he went to work, he would already have the entire approach mapped. This wasn’t Jim’s strength though. Ed knew dozens of database people who could listen to the same problem and come up with similar solutions.
Jim’s strength was that he would solve the problem in his head and then let that solution fade away. When Ed set up a job, Jim would walk in with no preconceived notions. He would let their marketing and IT people describe the problem and he would hear it with fresh, inquisitive ears. Then, he would lead them, step by step, to the right approach. Everyone in the meetings would walk away with the correct notions, supplied by Jim, and they would all feel invested in the solution. Only the managers would have the perspective to spot Jim’s miraculous influence. The project would proceed with very little friction.
Of course, this magic only happened when the company knew what to expect. That’s where Ed came in. He would set the stage and make sure all the pieces were aligned before he sent in Jim. That was one of Ed’s talents. He called himself a recruiter, but he was really a facilitator. He got the talented people to the right place and he set the table so they could create.
The clients were often mystified. They were always satisfied.
As they finished their food, Ed gave Jim the details of where and when and told him how much he would be paid for the work. The engagement would last about six months. Jim would get a salary. Ed would get a fixed fee. Jim was compensated well. Ed got just enough. Neither man was rich. Ed worked all the time, but he didn’t demand a large fee. Jim earned a ton but only worked about half the year.
With their business finished, Ed prompted Jim to finish his earlier thought about atoms and molecules. Jim surprised Ed by changing the subject.
“I’ve been working on a new data structure,” Jim said.
“Oh yeah?”
Jim pulled out his phone and began typing.
“You know how I record all my food and exercise?” Jim asked.
“Sure,” Ed said. Jim was skinny and fit, but he hadn’t always been. A couple years before, Jim had made a project of optimizing his health.
“I decided to put that data together with all my environmental and behavioral stuff.”
“Like what?” Ed asked.
“I’ve got my house automated,” Jim said. “I’ve been working on it for years. I put motion sensors around, hooked up the thermostats and lights, and I added a bunch of biometric sensors.”
“Cool. What for?”
“At first, I just wanted to start my coffee at the right time,” Jim said. “I hate when I get up and the coffee isn’t ready. But I also hate it when I get up and the coffee has been sitting out for two hours. I want it to finish brewing right when I’m done with my shower and I’m walking to the kitchen.”
“Can’t you simply turn it on before your shower?”
“I don’t like to walk to the kitchen before my shower,” Jim said. “I have a specific order for my morning, and I’ve arranged it carefully.”
“Couldn’t you move the coffee maker to the bedroom, or put it on a remote control?”
“I considered those approaches, but they’re crude. I wanted something elegant and extensible.”
“You mean you wanted to be able to apply the approach to future problems?”
“Yes. Like in two weeks, when I start that job, I’ll want to step into a warm car. I don’t need to warm my car up now, but when I start that job it would be nice if the system started my car to warm it up before I needed to leave. It could take into account the outside temperature so it would know how much in advance it should start the car. It it’s fifty outside, the car should start as I’m entering the garage. If it’s thirty degrees, the car might start five minutes earlier.”
“And your routine is regular enough for the system to predict when you’re ready to leave?” Ed asked.
“My routine varies from day to day, but patterns exist and could be predicted closely enough to be useful.”
“But is it worth the time to figure out? You can wear a jacket when you get in the car and take it off at the first red light.”
“If the approach is generic enough, you could save a tremendous amount of effort and time. I could eliminate routine shopping, save on gas and electricity, know how much sleep I need tonight for maximum alertness tomorrow—there are so many problems you could solve.”
“You’d need sensors everywhere,” Ed said.
“Not as many as you’d think. There are already a bunch around if you count your cell phone and all the computers—most have microphones and cameras. They can collect a lot of data. All your purchases are recorded in different systems. Most of that data is available. I’m already recording everything I eat. For food shopping, all I have to do is correlate all this information and I know what food I need to buy each week. The system can put in an order to a grocery store that delivers. All I have to do is put away the food.”
“What does Jessica think of automated food shopping?” Ed asked.
“We broke up,” Jim said. “She wanted kids. I always told her that I didn’t.”
Ed nodded.
“So are you building this system?” Ed asked. He was simply making conversation. He knew that even if Jim did create this amazing system, he would never sell it. Jim never sold any of his personal projects.
“I’m working on it,” Jim said. “The problem is the data. There are plenty of databases robust enough to handle the volume of information, but you can’t index and query them in the way I need. I want to be able to take all this information and instead of querying what happened in the past, I want to query it for what will happen. I need to index everything based on past and future occurrences.”
Ed laughed. “If you can do that, just query it for the upcoming lottery numbers. Then you can hire someone to shop for you.”
Jim smiled and nodded. Before he began his next sentence, he wiped his hand across the table, as if he wanted to clear away Ed’s joke.
“I’m putting together new data structures that I think will solve the problem. I won’t know until I get farther with the implementation. Can you call a dinner?”
Their group of friends had a standing lunch every two weeks, but dinner was something special. A dinner could take months to arrange. They all had complicated schedules, and “dinner” could easily last six or seven hours, depending on the topic being discussed.
“I can,” Ed said. “How much time do you need to get ready?”
“At least three months,” Jim said.
Ed pulled out his calendar and counted off the weeks. With client work, Jim had become an expert estimator. He could guess within a day when the
project would be completed. But, on his own pet projects, it was best to double Jim’s estimates.
“How about April?” Ed asked.
“Perfect.”
“Is this a concept review, design hierarchy, code walkthrough, what?” Ed asked.
“Full demonstration,” Jim said.
“Really? What for?” Ed asked. When one of the group asked for a dinner, it was always so they could bounce their ideas off the others before they were finished. It was their way of finding roadblocks or validating their approach before they spent too much time with the computer on a dead end. A dinner seemed unnecessary for a demo. He could do a demo at lunch.
“I’ll be done with the system, but I’ll want to collect input before I put a user interface on it,” Jim said.
“Oh. That makes sense,” Ed said. It really didn’t. Their group was thick with big brains, none of whom had any idea what a good user interface looked like. They were all too technical to understand how a mere mortal would approach using a piece of software.
“Thanks for lunch,” Jim said.
He nodded to Ed before he left.
# # # # #
InterviewAfterJim1();
/*****
August, 2013 (1 week A.J.)
Aster and Ploss knocked again.
The door was better than the rest of the house. It was thick and sturdy. The house looked like it might blow over in a high wind, leaving just the door standing.
“Yeah?” Ed asked as he opened the door a few inches.
“Oh,” Ed said as he saw the badge clipped to Aster’s suit jacket. “Come on in. Why didn’t you guys ring the bell?”
Ed opened the door and waved the two officers into his living room. The room had nice furniture, but not enough to make it look full. On the wall over the fireplace, a TV was mounted. Aster noted the cables dangling from the device.
“The bell doesn’t always work. People thing it’s rude to ring and knock, so we just knock,” Ploss said.
“I see,” Ed said. “Would you like to have a seat?”
Aster took a seat on the couch and crossed his legs. Ploss perched on the edge of a chair. He pulled out a notebook and balanced it on his knee.
“I’m Ed, but you probably guessed.”
He held out his hand.
“I’m Detective Aster, and this is Detective Ploss. You didn’t ask us what this is about,” Aster said, shaking Ed’s hand. “Everyone asks that.”
After shaking with Aster and Ploss, Ed reached back to his dining room table and grabbed his bottle of beer. He wiped the bottom on his shirt before he set it on the table next to his chair. Ed sat down with a sigh.
“I’ve been expecting police to show up,” Ed said. “He was a close friend of mine, and I’m sure my number was one of the last he dialed before... Do you guys want something to drink?”
Ed took a long pull from his beer.
“No, thanks,” Aster said. He was about to ask another question, but it died on his lips as he watched Ed. The man seemed normal enough—he was forty-something, maybe fifty, had some gray hair, dressed well for a Saturday, wore his hair short and kept a clean shave even on the weekend. But what Ed was doing was anything but normal. Ed opened a drawer on his end table and pulled out two pieces of paper. He handed one to each of the detectives. As soon as they took the paper, Ed put a finger to his lips.
The paper explained, in a way. The text was printed with a pencil in neat block letters:
# # # # #
Dear Officers,
I wrote this note in anticipation of your arrival. I’ll be happy to talk to you about your investigation, I but I need to ask you for one precaution. Please place any cell phones or radios in the box in front of me. It merely blocks electronic communication so I can speak freely. Your devices will be unharmed. If you’re uncomfortable with this process, or mention it aloud before I’ve closed the box, you’ll find me unwilling to answer any questions today.
Thank you,
Ed
# # # # #
InterviewAfterJim2();
/*****
When Aster finished reading, he looked up at Ed. The man was gesturing towards a box on the floor, next to the coffee table. It looked like a safe, sitting on its back. Ed held the door open and while Aster and Ploss watched, he put his own cell phone in the box.
Aster felt Ploss’s eyes on him. He looked over at his partner and nodded. The two detectives took out their phones and put them in the box. Ed closed the lid.
“I’m sorry for all the cloak and dagger stuff, but I can’t be too careful now that Jim is dead,” Ed said.
“We’re not allowed to record any conversation without your knowledge,” Ploss said.
“I know,” Ed said. “But The Organization is what I’m concerned about. It doesn’t follow your rules.”
“And who is that, Mr. Statler?” Aster asked.
“I’m going to hold off on answering that one,” Ed said. “Please—you had questions about Jim?”
Aster bent his head and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked like he was gearing up for a bad day. Aster’s hair was clipped down to about a quarter inch of fuzz. He ran his hand back and forth over the top before he began with his questions.
“How long have you known James Owens?” Aster asked.
“About fifteen years, I guess. Yeah, fifteen,” Ed said. He finished his beer.
Ploss scribbled something in his notebook.
“And what was the nature of your relationship?”
“Friends. He was a friend of mine. I also placed him in some jobs. I’m a recruiter and he’s a contractor of sorts,” Ed said.
“Like construction?”
“No,” Ed smiled. “Database guy. Software stuff. He was a software contractor.”
“And you found jobs for him?”
“Yeah,” Ed said. “I work with a number of software and hardware guys. I find them work and I get a fee. I’m like a pimp, but it’s all legal.”
“We’re familiar with employment recruiters,” Ploss said.
“These guys work a little differently,” Ed said. “Normally, a head hunter will find a permanent job for his clients. I find short-term work. It’s more like an agency, but the work is so specialized that these guys don’t fit in an agency model. It’s kinda unique. Anyway, Jim was a friend, but I also found him work.”
“And he was working on something for you recently?” Aster asked.
“No, not for me,” Ed said. “He was working on his own stuff. He had been on a break since the beginning of June.”
“His calendar shows a meeting with you next week.”
“That’s our standing lunch. A bunch of us get together every two weeks for lunch. I organize it—those guys aren’t much good at reservations and such. It’s a miracle they all show up most of the time. We were supposed to get together next week. Now, I’m not sure if anyone will have the guts to show up.”
“The guts?” Aster asked.
“Yeah, after Jim, you know...”
“I don’t follow,” Aster said.
“You know,” Ed said, “I watched a couple videos last year that described exactly why one should never talk to the police. Guilty or innocent, there are always pitfalls and traps. In fact, a thoughtful person should never answer any question, lest their answers be misconstrued. I’m not suggesting you guys are up to no good, it’s just a minefield of unintended consequences.”
Ploss wrote several lines in his book.
Aster narrowed his eyes.
“But I’m going to tell you guys what I know, because I think it might save some lives in the long run. Not all of them, but maybe some,” Ed said. “You’ll think I’m crazy, I’m sure, but if I’m right, you would end up thinking that anyway. This doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“No, of course it does,” Aster said.
Ed laughed.
“You’re a really good liar, Officer, sorry, Detective Aster. I’m going to grab another beer. Are you sure I can�
��t get you anything?”
Aster glanced at Ploss. Ploss flipped closed his notebook and rose. “I’ll get a water, if that’s okay?” he followed Ed into the kitchen. Ed came back first, followed by Ploss.
Ed flopped back down in his chair and killed about a third of his beer immediately.
“I suspect that lunch next week might not be well attended. Now that Jim is dead, a lot of the other guys will be laying low, trying to stay alive.”
“You’ll be there?” Aster asked.
“Yeah. I’m stupid that way. Even though Maco predicted Jim’s murder, I still only half-believe that The Organization really exists. I probably won’t be fully convinced until there’s a bullet in my head.”
“Maco?” Aster asked.
“Terrence Macomber. He lives in Fairfax,” Ed said.
“And he predicted the murder of James Owens?”
“Yup. Lister—that’s Ulrik Pedersen, which is spelled U-L-R-I-K and Pedersen with all E’s and a D—anyway, Lister said that Jim was probably murdered when he didn’t show up to the last lunch. Maco said, ‘Nope, when Jim goes down, she’ll do it in a big way. She’ll want everyone to know that she took out Yawgmoth.’”
“Yawgmoth?”
Ed waved his hand. “It’s just a nickname for Jim.”
“So Lister thought Jim had been murdered, but Maco predicted that Jim would be murdered in public?” Ploss asked. He held his pen perched above his notebook.
“Yeah, but not just in public, in front of a lot of cameras. Lots of physical evidence,” Ed said.
“She?” Aster asked.
“Pardon?” Ed asked.
“You said that she took out Yawgmoth.”
“Oh, right. The guys refer to The Organization as a girl. I guess the same way you would do with a boat.”
“What’s the name of this organization?” Ed asked.
“That is the name. I call it ‘The Organization’. It’s as good a name as any. I’ll tell you about it in a second. Like I said, I’m not convinced it exists.”