Max wandered over to the new cars. He could feel the eyes of the hungry salespeople watching him. Still, he had to admit that maybe, just maybe, it was getting to be time to consider moving on in the automotive world.
He paced around a brand-new Aero 640SL, the spiritual successor to his Aero Ventura. He grimaced at the nameplate. “Alphabet soup.” Still, he had to admit that the dark-red coupe looked pretty slick.
He grimaced again when he reached the price sheet. It was uncomfortably close to what his parents had paid for their house a few years back. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Right on cue.
Max put on his best shit-eating grin. “Why yes, it’s gorgeous.”
“Jeb Deveron!” The salesman stuck out a manicured hand. Max reluctantly shook it. “Couldn’t help but notice you falling in love with this beauty!”
“Oh! Yeah I uh… It’s pretty nice… Expensive.” Max muttered the last word under his breath.
“It sure would be an upgrade from that old, beat up Ventura! Those things can be pretty darn expensive to fix nowadays.” He gave Max a knowing wink and a smile.
Max didn’t return it. “Shouldn’t be a big deal. The ECM just needs to be re-flashed.”
Right on cue, the auto tech appeared from around the corner. “Sorry to interrupt. I’m pretty sure that you’re going to need a new engine control module, sir.”
Max sighed. “Did you re-flash the memory?”
The tech looked uneasily at the salesman. “Well um… no. It’s just…”
Max held up a staying hand. “Just re-flash the damned ECM. Please.”
“Yes, sir.” The tech ran off with his tail between his legs.
Jeb Deveron shrugged. “He hasn’t been here that long. You know how it is.”
“Yeah…”
Jeb laughed uneasily. “Anyways… How about I get the keys to this baby and I’ll let you take it for a spin? I think your heart will be set after a couple miles, eh?”
“Well…” Max heard a familiar engine roar to life. He smiled and patted Jeb on the back. “Maybe next time I’m down this way!”
The life rushed out of Jeb’s eyes. “Oh… Well, I guess that’s fair.” He produced a business card as if by magic and handed it to Max. “Stop by any time!
“Thanks.” The auto tech pulled up nearby in Max’s old Aero Ventura. “See ya around.”
“All set, mister!” The auto tech held out a payment pad.
Max made a face when he saw the price. He reluctantly put a thumb on the screen. “Re-flashed the ECM?”
The auto tech blushed, talking quietly. “Yes, sir. Sorry for the trouble.”
Max smiled and winked. “No problem, kid. Keep your nose clean.” He hopped into his car and beat a hasty retreat. Maybe he didn’t need a new car after all.
“That’s everything we got.” Richard O’Connor slapped down another black plastic sheet beside the one that Max was looking over. Both had glowing blue words on them like the newspaper Max had earlier.
“You know Hanlon is going to have a baby if he finds out you’re in here working on a day off.”
Max shook his head without looking up. “It’s a… favor, for a friend.”
Richard crossed his arms. “Must be some friend. Why this guy, anyway? He’s a druggie and a kook. He bust someone’s chops or something?”
“No. Nothing like that. In fact, he’s trying to claim that someone is trying to bust his.”
“Oh! I remember this guy! Yeah, he came in trying to claim someone was out to kill him. He was acting real weird, talking funny. We sent him off to be evaluated and never heard anymore.”
“Well I can definitely believe he was on something. Looks like things fell apart for him when he lost a job with Benjamin and Associates.”
“Say, that’s that big accounting firm on the other side of town, ain’t it?”
Max nodded. “Yeah. He was probably one of the plebes that got scratched when they merged with Moore and Jackson.” He looked up at the ceiling while he did some figuring. “Yup. His first arrest for possession would have been a few weeks after the merger was complete.”
Max picked up the sheet Richard had brought him. “See, now this is the report from when he claimed someone was stalking him. The interesting thing is that this all came about several months after his last arrest for possession.”
Richard shrugged. “So, what? You saying he was clean when he came in? Even if he was, it doesn’t mean his mind wasn’t messed up.”
“Maybe not, Richie, but that’s why we had him evaluated, isn’t it?” Max pointed halfway down the sheet. “Says here that Psych said he was borderline neurotic but blood tests showed he was completely clean.”
“Okay, so let’s say he’s stone cold sober. Who wants to kill him? A dealer?”
“That would be my first thought. Although…” Max scrolled down the electronic page with his finger. “This says he went on about some deal called SomniCorp. They do memory recording and ‘adjustments’ it says.
“Something about he had his memory ‘backed up’… Kind of creepy. It was part of a free deal thing with Benjamin and Associates. He said he went in for a ‘memory adjustment’ when he was trying to kick his habit. He said things went weird after he had this adjustment.”
Richard laughed. “Well can’t be them, can it? If they did him wrong, they could just erase it from his mind, couldn’t they? No need to kill him.”
Max smiled at Richard. “Good point, Richie.” Richard beamed. “Still…” Max returned to the sheet. “It could be that whatever they messed with in his head is giving him some sort of false belief he’s being stalked.”
Just then came a knock on Max’s office door. “You in there, Kincaid?” It was Chief Hanlon. “You better not be.” Oh, crap.
Max looked at Richard, who stared back like a deer in the headlights. Max grinned. “I’m not here, boss. I’m off today!”
The door bounced open. “Not here, my ass!” He eyed Richard. “What, did O’Connor drag you in here?” Richard started babbling.
“No, sir. He was just giving me a hand with some research. I was doing a favor for a friend.”
Hanlon chewed at the tip of his cigar and blew out a cloud of smoke. “A favor, huh?”
Max nodded. “Just a favor. In fact…” He rounded up the paperwork in front of him and stood up. “I was just getting ready to cut out for the rest of the day.”
“Good enough. Don’t go getting too wound up in other shit, though. I want you focused on Esposito first thing tomorrow.”
Max smiled and winked. “Been looking forward to it, boss.”
“Haven’t we all? Now get the hell out of here, would ya?”
3
The sun was shining as Max walked up to the precinct. He barely noticed, though; his mind focused only on Esposito. “Good morning, Max!”
Max smiled at this. “Good morning, Jax! You remembered!”
Jax’s LED smile widened. “Correct! I made a note in my memory banks to remember your request, and acted on it when I saw you!”
Max shook his head. “Indeed you did. Good man… Oh! Well, good bot. I can’t talk this morning though, I’m afraid. I have a date with Victor Esposito.”
“Oh! I didn’t think you were that kind of man. Well, good luck, then!”
Max nearly choked laughing. “No! No, too literal. Esposito and I are going to have a talk.”
“I understand!“ Jax saluted goofily as Max walked into the precinct. “I think…”
Jake Cunningham smiled from behind his bulletproof glass. “Here comes trouble! I hear you finally made some time to play with your new friend today.”
Max smiled back. “Yeah, I’d say it’s about time. Has Esposito softened up any now that he knows Adesso doesn’t want anything to do with him?”
Jake shook his head. “Not one damn bit. I honestly think he’s got it in his head that we’re just messing with him. He’s certain Adesso is going to peel him out of here any day now.”
“Funny thing is, that sounds just like something we’d try.”
Jake snorted. “Fair enough. He’s waiting uncomfortably for you in room three. Give him hell, Max!”
“That’s the idea.” Max walked down the hallway to his right. He put his thumb on a black plate to the left of the door at the end of the hall. The plate beeped and the door clicked. He walked through and let the door click shut behind him.
Door number three. Max bent down and gazed through the peephole. What he saw didn’t surprise him, even though it should have. Esposito was gently rocking at the table in the dimly lit room. He looked scared.
Max pushed open the door. “Afternoon, Vic.”
Any fear Esposito had disappeared off his face in the blink of an eye. “Go to hell, Kincaid.”
Max pressed the door shut behind him and walked over to the table. “Vic, you’re hurting my feelings, buddy. I thought we were friends.”
“Very cute. I told you before, I’ll tell you again: Go to hell. I’m not telling you anything.”
“Yes, that’s right. Your good man Don Adesso is going to get you out any day now, isn’t he?” Max sat down across from Esposito.
“You’re damn right. He’ll never abandon me. He and I are like family. You don’t abandon family.”
Max leaned back in his chair. “Sounds to me like you’re trying your best to convince yourself of that.”
Esposito pounded the table with his fist. “It’s a fact!” Max barely flinched. “I know you cops. He’s probably tried to get me out already. You probably cooked up some bullshit excuse to keep me in here and make it look like he doesn’t care.”
“You know Vic, you could get yourself out of here if you helped us out a little.”
“I told you, I ain’t telling you nothing! Don’s entrusted me with the knowledge I have and I ain’t about to go spilling it to anyone, least of all you!”
Max slowly leaned forward. “Let’s play a game, Vic. Let’s pretend for a minute that I’m not bullshitting you. Let’s pretend that Adesso could care less if you ever see the sun again. If that’s the case, then he doesn’t care if you’re alive or dead, right?”
Esposito grinned and shook his head. “And in that case I’m better off telling you what you want to hear, right? It’s better to have you for a friend than no friend at all.”
Max kicked back again. “You’re pretty good at this game, Vic! That’s right, we can protect you from Adesso. All you have to do is tell us what you know.”
Esposito started laughing. “That’s a good try, Kincaid. I’ll give you that. The fact is that even if I do talk, I’m still a dead man. I told you, Adesso will kill me for leaking what I know.”
Max grinned. “Fact is, he probably already believes you did, Vic. Think about it, you really don’t have anything more to lose.”
Esposito stared Max down for a full minute before he spoke again. “You might be right…” He shook his head. “I still ain’t talking.”
Max sighed and stood up. “Have it your way, Vic. We can have this conversation again tomorrow. Unless you have a change of heart…”
“Go to hell, Kincaid.”
“It was good to see you too, Vic. Take care of yourself.” Max tipped his hat. He left, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Chief Hanlon was waiting on the other side. “So… Progress, I suppose?”
The look on Max’s face was noncommittal. “It’s hard to tell with him this time around. I think Adesso’s silence is really tweaking his mind. He’s scared and he’s trying to feel out which way he should turn.”
“Well, let’s just hope he goes toward the light.” Hanlon smacked Max on the shoulder. “Good work. You working on anything else right now?”
“I’ve got a possible case I’m working over. I’ve got to discuss a few things with a collaborator of mine first.”
“Very good. Do what you need to do. I’ll ring you if Sunshine changes his tune.”
Max settled himself down onto his old, familiar stool and spread the files on Daryl Marston out before him. Sam put a coffee mug in front of him. “Well, I’ll be damned. You really did look into that kid’s story!”
Max winked and held up his coffee. “I couldn’t go disappointing my favorite source of free caffeine, now could I?”
Sam delivered Max a well-deserved cuff on the arm. “Is that all I am to you, Max Kincaid?”
“That, and a whole lot more.” He smiled at her. That was enough to melt her. He turned back to the files. “I was honestly expecting another psych case, but I think there’s something more to this kid.”
Max explained the concept of SomniCorp to Sam, and how Daryl had his memory both backed up and modified. “That’s the part that’s tickling my brain. It’s a stretch, but this SomniCorp might have messed something up and they’re trying to cover their tracks.
“On the other hand, maybe it’s all in his head. The twist is that SomniCorp might be the reason it’s all in his head. Either way you cut it, I think this company might have some explaining to do.”
Sam crossed her arms. “Sounds to me like you might have a new pet case.”
The door to the diner opened. “I got your phone call, Detective Kincaid. I came over as quickly as I could.” Daryl sat down next to Max.
Sam’s eyebrows were riding high. “Wonders never cease!” She turned to Daryl. “Can I get you anything, sweetheart?”
Daryl blushed. “Uh, nothing for me. Is that alright?” He looked uneasily at Max.
Sam laughed. “That’s perfectly fine, hon. I’ll leave you boys alone to talk.” She gave Max a wink and walked off to check on a couple on the other side of the diner.
“Say, I just want to thank you again for taking me seriously.”
Max shook his head. “Don’t mention it, kid. We’ll see if we can’t get things figured out for you.” He scanned down a glossy black file. “Says here you went to this SomniCorp place a couple of times. What can you tell me about that?”
Daryl grimaced. “That was a mistake twice over. They mainly market in ‘memory collection’, as they put it. They basically make a hard copy of your brain, is the way they explained it to me.
“My old job offered it as a perk. I think they just wanted to bank my work-related memories like they saved my work files. In retrospect the whole thing was kind of creepy.”
Max rubbed his chin and scrolled down the file. “Well that explains the first time you visited. What was the second visit for?”
Daryl sighed. “That would be after I had lost said job. Regardless of employment, the memory files at SomniCorp were mine. I figured if they could record and recall memories, then maybe they could suppress them, too.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “You wanted to forget something. Did it have to do with trying to overcome your addiction?”
“Oh, you read up about that part, huh?” Max nodded. “Yeah, that was a big part of it. I also wanted to forget about my fiancée.”
“Your fiancée? Well I guess they failed at suppressing that part of your memories, at any rate.”
Daryl chuckled. “I’d say they failed pretty much altogether. They called it ‘memory adjustment’. They said they would give me an adjustment for free, since it was so new and experimental for them.”
“So they failed to shut out your old woman… What about the addiction?”
Daryl smirked. “That’s the odd part: It worked! Any cravings I had disappeared virtually overnight. It seems like that’s the only thing they got right.”
“Alright… So when exactly did you get the idea that someone was out to kill you?”
Daryl stared at the ceiling for a minute. “Oh, I’d say maybe two weeks after I visited SomniCorp for the second time. I started receiving these cryptic e-mails every couple of days or so. They were just weird at first, disjointed…”
“Weird how?”
“The best way I can think to explain it is they were like a computer generated spam e-mail. You know the kind. They try to make just
enough sense that they don’t get kicked to the spam folder.”
“So how do you know that wasn’t what they were?”
Daryl shook his head. “They were too personal. The parts that did make sense related directly to me, my life, my ex…” He swallowed. “Anyway… Eventually the messages started to sound threatening.”
“Threatening how? Like death threats? Bodily harm?”
“Nothing so concrete. They’d say things like ’someone wants you dead,’ or ’you don’t know the danger you’re in.’”
Max nodded. “I take it you had the presence of mind to save those e-mails.”
“I did. I still have them on my computer back at my place. I can get you copies if you want.”
“I think that’d be a good idea. One more thing… I’m sorry I have to ask, Daryl. Do you think your ex would have any reason to want you dead?”
Daryl took a sudden interest in the pattern on the countertop. “I don’t know why she’d want me dead. She couldn’t wait to get away from me after I started in on the whole drug thing.”
Max put a hand on Daryl’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, kid.” He rounded up the files and put them in a neat pile next to his coffee. “You get me those files off your computer, alright? I’ll see what I can learn about this SomniCorp place.”
Daryl nodded. He sounded distant. “Thanks again, Detective Kincaid.”
“Call me Max.”
“Max! Nice to meet you. I’m Chance Grasso!” The slick-looking salesman thrust out a manicured hand.
Max stared at the man for slightly longer than what would be considered acceptable before reluctantly shaking his hand. “Well you’re a ray of sunshine, aintcha?”
Grasso shook Max’s hand for slightly longer than what would be considered acceptable before finally freeing him. “Well, we here at SomniCorp understand how dour a topic memory preservation and recall can be. We try to keep things as upbeat as possible!”
Max wiped his hand on his trench coat as Grasso walked to his desk. “I feel better already.”
Preservation Protocol Page 3