Memories of a Murder

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Memories of a Murder Page 24

by Sid Kar


  “Better yet, we are going to see the video, clear up the confusion,” Frank said. He accelerated the car again and sent it flying down the road.

  “Back to Herr Mad Scientist again?” Joe laughed.

  “This will be our last video of memories from Adam’s brain. We have to return it today,” Frank said, “Joe call Friedrich and inform him we are coming. And tell him to extract as many of the memories as he can about the shooting scene in the woods.”

  “With pleasure,” Joe replied and took out his cell phone.

  They did not stop for lunch on the way over to Friedrich’s company in Princeton, but they did pick up food from the drive thru at a fast food restaurant. Joe was hungry and got himself two big burgers with extra bacon and eight ketchup bags and proceeded to make a mess of Frank’s passenger seat by dropping bits of bacon and drops of ketchup all over the floor, much to Frank’s chagrin.

  They reached Princeton around 1:00 and were in the parking lot of Friedrich’s office in less than ten minutes thereafter. The security guard recognized Frank and let him in.

  “Mr. Brandt left instructions that you were expected,” the guard said to Frank.

  “Let him know we are on our way,” Frank replied and they headed to the elevators.

  Friedrich had left the door to his office open and when they walked inside they saw Friedrich was leaning over his computer editing the visuals that were coming from Adam’s brain which sat in the freezer with far more electrodes and wires connected to it than any of the previous times.

  “Aha! Frank and company, you are arriving at the right time,” Friedrich said, “I just managed to download and finish the processing of his memory surrounding the gunshot scene in the woods,” Friedrich raised his hands with fingers crossed and a wide smile across his lips, “would you believe me if I told you this man was witness to not one, but two murders in his life?”

  “We would,” Clara nodded without an expression.

  “You would? Just like that?” Friedrich asked. He was taken aback by their lack of enthusiasm for his discovery. He put his hands down and curved his lip in puzzlement.

  “Frank already told us,” Joe said.

  “I should have known. You are a detective after all and damn good one to go along with this…experiment of mine,” Friedrich said.

  “We dug up a skeleton in the Applewood Forest,” Frank said.

  “You did what?” Friedrich exclaimed, “Oh WOW that’s great! I mean it’s not good in a moral sense, but we know for sure this works!” He appeared giddy with joy even as he tried to restrain his grin considering the fruit that had been uncovered.

  “We knew it worked before too,” Frank said, “we saw Adam’s killer’s face and I IDed him as Panther.”

  “We did, but we could not be certain,” Friedrich said, “a coincidence or just a figment of his fleeting memory. But this time we used the visuals to make a concrete discovery that would not have been possible if we didn’t have access to his actual memory.”

  “He has a point,” Clara said.

  “Friedrich, did you actually see an ‘Applewood Forest’ sign and not just ‘Applewood?’” Frank asked.

  “Yes, I did why?” Friedrich replied.

  “And did he actually turn his tanker around on the road?” Frank asked.

  “I told you this over the phone,” Friedrich replied, “he missed the forest road the first time.”

  “That’s what I told you Frank,” Clara said.

  “You did, but Friedrich, I would like to see that video before we get to the gunshot scene,” Frank said, “and fast forward it to just before Applewood Forest. We don’t have much time.”

  “Are you in a hurry?” Friedrich asked while he started hitting keys on his computer.

  “So are you, because this experiment is over today,” Frank said, “we have till 2:15 and 2:30 is the absolute hard stop.”

  “What? Why?” Friedrich turned around on his heels to face Frank, “there is so much more to explore.”

  “Adam wants his brain back,” Joe chuckled, “boy has been missing it lately.”

  “Joe! Be respectful to the poor guy,” Clara said, “we are already invading his most intimate thoughts.”

  “His daughter is getting the body at 3:00 or soon thereafter,” Frank said, “I have to return it before that.”

  “Alas, this moment was inevitable,” Friedrich said, “I will show you what I got.”

  Friedrich started the video where they saw Route 80 West out of Adam’s windshield as he himself would have seen except the visuals were a bit hazy. Friedrich punched some keys and fast forwarded through the driving scene and stopped just when he saw the “Applewood” sign with a right arrow appear on the screen. He played the video on normal speed.

  “That’s the sign where we entered the woods,” Frank said.

  But the view in the video did not change from the road scene and the sign passed by at the right. They saw Route 80 West further ahead as Adam’s truck drove on.

  “He saw the sign. These are his memories after all,” Frank said, “why didn’t he turn?”

  “Peripheral vision. He saw it but his brain didn’t process it at the time,” Friedrich said, “that would be my guess.”

  “That could be,” Frank said, “in the interest of time, fast forward to just before where he turns the truck around.”

  “Sure,” Friedrich said and used the computer mouse to move the video along.

  When he stopped and resumed play on normal speed, they saw the road ahead while Adam’s truck passed a power plant on the right and a gas station on the left and suddenly the video skipped and they were staring at the view of the road from the opposite side.

  “Woah! He is now on 80 East, but where is the scene where he turns the tanker around?” Frank asked.

  “I didn’t bother capturing those signals,” Friedrich shrugged.

  “Why not?” Frank asked agitated.

  “You were hurrying me along, Detective,” Friedrich said, “remember you wanted it fast. Once I saw him miss that sign for Applewood, I knew the further electrical signals emanating from his brain were just for the memory of the drive and a turnaround. I jumped ahead.”

  “Have you saved those signals for later processing?” Frank asked.

  “Signals already processed into audio or video can be saved on the computer, but not the electrical impulses,” Friedrich said, “I can retrieve them again from his brain given few hours, but you don’t have time.”

  “Why are you so interested in this, Frank?” Clara asked.

  “A crack in the wall,” Frank said, “I don’t like holes in stories, loose ends in theories and cracks that break the narrative.”

  “Frank believes in thoroughness,” Joe said.

  “Explain how it’s a crack? I understand you started as a patrolman and know the roads by heart, but him…” Clara said.

  “He was a lifelong truck driver,” Frank said, “Route 80 is the mouth to Pennsylvania and Mid-West for Jersey truckers and drivers. But forget it. We are starved for time and I do want to see the gunshot video in its entirety.”

  “Let’s get to it then,” Friedrich said and closed of the video on his computer and then played the file for a new one.

  The video of Adam’s memory began where the Tanker entered the dirt road into Applewood Forest. The tanker drove on the same road Frank and company had just driven on. Even many of the trees and boulders were the same and they watched in stunned silence. No matter how many times he saw the video, Frank could not believe he was actually watching memories of a dead man.

  Adam’s tanker came to a stop at the same Clearing they had parked in and then Frank saw it.

  “Stop right there!” Frank yelled and Friedrich was jolted out of his concentration and fumbled to hit the pause key.

  “That’s a second tanker, Frank,” Joe said.

  They saw an identical gasoline tanker parked at the Clearing through Adam’s windshield’s still image on the computer
.

  “It wasn’t there before,” Clara said.

  “It must have been following Adam’s lead all along. But he did not miss the dirt road or he turned much earlier than Adam and reached first,” Friedrich said.

  “That makes me want to go back to the first theory that they were trying to bury something,” Frank said, “not just a human body. Why bring two tankers to transport one dead body.”

  “Frank you are not making sense,” Clara said, “I thought it was supposed to be a hiker or hunter who stumbled upon them and got shot. Not that they planned on bringing a body for burial.”

  “How would I know what is what,” Frank replied, “that was just a guess. Another guess was Dunlap brought someone along to execute him and transport the body in oil. Prevents the escape of rotten smell. Stage a fiery tanker accident to dispose the victim’s body without notice. Perhaps something made them change their plan and bury it right there and then.”

  “There is indeed a car in here,” Friedrich said, “If you would let me play.”

  “Go on,” Frank replied.

  Friedrich hit play again and they saw the second tanker without the windshield glass, presumably Adam had exited his own truck. Then they saw the car and Friedrich paused on his own.

  “Look’s like an old car,” Frank said.

  “He should know,” Joe said nodding towards Friedrich.

  “I do, because I once owned the exact same car,” Friedrich smiled, “it’s the 1990 model of a Mercedes-Benz.”

  “Larry Dunlap, the rich tycoon,” Clara said.

  “Yep,” Frank said, “Friedrich, how old would you say that particular car is,” Frank pointed to the still image on the computer screen.

  “It’s not brand new, but looks in fine condition, not more than one or two years,” Friedrich replied.

  “Then it’s reasonable to assume we are looking at an event that happened in 1992?” Frank asked.

  “You could say that,” Friedrich said.

  “The year Calvin mentioned,” Clara said.

  “Exactly. Go on. Resume the video,” Frank said and Friedrich hit play again.

  They saw two men walking in the video with Adam presumably walking behind them. Adam caught up to them but they didn’t turn around till they got to the place where the troopers had found the skeleton. There were shovels lying around. They started digging. Faces of the two weren’t in view but even when they saw a glimpse it was blurred and unrecognizable.

  “Why are the faces so fuzzy?” Frank asked.

  “Characteristic of human brain: easier to remember events than faces from long past,” Friedrich said, “especially if they are not family or friends. Adam wouldn’t remember how someone looked thirty years ago, not with any clarity.”

  “What about the hitman’s face I saw in a different video?” Frank asked.

  “That was the most recent memory his brain collected,” Friedrich replied.

  “Let’s skip the digging ditches part,” Frank said looking at his wristwatch, “time is running out.”

  Friedrich skipped the video, stopping occasionally to make sure he hadn’t jumped too far ahead.

  “This is where it gets interesting,” he said stepping back and letting the video run.

  The view on the computer monitor was now looking down at a large, wide hole they had dug out. The three of them walked back once again with Adam at the back because they saw the other two walk in front. One of the men got in the second Tanker and Adam jumped in his. The third man got in his car and parked it further away. They saw the front view receding from them.

  “Is this a real memory?” Clara asked.

  “Reverse gear,” Friedrich replied.

  “They are backing as close to the hole as possible,” Frank said.

  The view stopped receding and then the door opened. Adam had walked out. He walked back to the rear of the tanker. The other two men had assembled there too. The two tankers were backed into the woods.

  Then they proceeded to open the large and thick rear steel cover of the tanker.

  “I am getting a bad feeling,” Frank said.

  “What do you mean?” Clara asked.

  “Those lids don’t open usually. They just attach a hose to the hatches on the top or valves on the sides. They must have planned this in advance, made preparations,” Frank replied, “not an on the fly operation to hide just a murder. Something bigger.”

  As they watched the video, the view moved to the second tanker and they did the same by opening the rear steel cap of the truck. Then the man who had driven the car walked back and returned with a plastic bag and handed each of them a pair of thick gloves. They put on the gloves and reached in together and pulled out a gray, metallic barrel from the tanker’s rear that looked about four feet in height and two feet in diameter. They rolled it across the forest floor and then kicked it down into the hole they had dug. The men in the video did this four times—taking out two barrels from each tanker. Then they took off their gloves, tossed them after the barrels and started shoveling dirt again, this time filling up the hole.

  “Toxic chemicals?” Clara wondered.

  “Why not attach a long hose?” Joe commented.

  “Those chemicals could seep and leak,” Friedrich said, “they are not going anywhere in metallic drums.”

  “Fast forward to the end of the shoveling,” Frank said.

  “I believe you will want to see this,” Friedrich said. He fast forwarded the video but not till the end when the hole had been filled. Instead he stopped where the three had stopped for a break and sat down. They had filled in the hole half way through and the barrels were not visible now.

  A static arose from the speakers of the computer and increased in volume as minutes passed.

  “We don’t have time for this Friedrich,” Frank said.

  “Patience, Frank. I am aware of your deadline,” Friedrich replied.

  The static increased while the two men in the video seen from Adam’s eyes stood up and were seen at an upward angle. Then the view was level with them again indicating Adam had followed suit and was on his feet.

  “Can you remove this interference?” Clara asked.

  “It’s not interference. It’s them talking, arguing actually,” Friedrich replied.

  The static sound grew even louder and those two men moved closer towards each other and started bickering.

  “Can’t understand a word they are saying,” Joe said.

  “Do you remember words spoken three decades ago?” Friedrich asked, “Audio memory decays much faster than the visual memory in the human brain. Now watch this carefully,” Friedrich moved forward and hit some keys to reduce the speed of the video to half of the normal setting.

  One of the man – the one who had come in the car – walked back from the second man who was the driver of the second tanker. He strolled away slowly then suddenly stopped. He turned around and there was a revolver in his hand that was raised up straight.

  “Whoa!” Joe exclaimed, “there’s that revolver.”

  Frank whistled and Clara jumped back.

  The tanker driver raised his hands slightly but otherwise stood still in shock at having a gun aimed at him. The revolver fired. The shot was loud and the driver was hit in the face. He tumbled down in the hole.

  “We heard that sound clearly,” Clara said.

  “A gunshot is a distinct and unique sound, not easily forgotten,” Friedrich shrugged his shoulders.

  There was some more static but it had quieted down. Adam did not appear to be as combative towards the gunman as the other driver had been. The other man started shoveling dirt again and they assumed Adam joined in as they saw another shovel up close flinging dirt.

  Friedrich returned the speed to normal.

  “Can we get to the end?” Frank asked looking at his watch. It was now 2:10 and he wanted to wrap it up.

  “Sure, it’s just them shoveling dirt now,” Friedrich said as he moved the video forward to just a minute be
fore it ended. It showed them pushing more dirt in the hole that they had filled in nearly three fourths of the way through. Even the dead body was not visible now. Then the video went black.

  “That’s it?” Frank asked.

  “All I could get for now,” Friedrich said, “this took a lot of doing too. Will take me hours, even days to get more but the window of opportunity is closing.”

  “Yeah, we have to return it,” Frank said.

  “Not just that, but the brain is decaying rapidly to a point where it will be completely electrically dead soon, and not just dead from the medical point of view,” Friedrich said.

  “You kept it in cold storage all along didn’t you?” Frank asked.

  “Cold can stop or slow organic decay, not the fade out of the already miniscule electrical activity,” Friedrich replied.

  “Can you process the static sound into words we can understand?” Frank asked.

  “Not possible. It’s too jumbled up. Besides the noise we are hearing may be left over sound memories from a completely different event at a different time.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Frank asked.

  “I am deriving the sounds from the Auditory Cortex of the brain which – you can guess by its name – is responsible for audio processing and storage of audio memories,” Friedrich said, “however, the video is from visual memories stored in his Hippocampus. Unlike the actual brain, I have no way of coordinating the impulses from these two regions to present a coherent picture.”

  Frank looked at his watch again as quarter past two just ticked by.

  “Hippocampus? Last time we spoke, you were pulling memories from a different place,” Frank said, “maybe there are more memories there. I really would like to see the faces and hear the words spoken.”

  “No. Sorry,” Friedrich shook his head, “Hippocampus is the place where electrical signals corresponding to this memory were retrieved from. It is the prime region for the storage of spatial memories in humans. Especially driving a large tanker would light up regions of the brain responsible for navigation and three dimensional awareness. Hippocampus is also where memories of vivid and intense events collect. We had only seen a glimpse of the gunshot in the woods earlier. I found all of the rest I showed you in this part of the brain.”

 

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