Chapter 7

“Well, she’s quite the woman,” was Andrew’s understatement of the day.
“We women have a word for women like that.”
“You women have a word for every type of woman, so that’s not particularly surprising.”
“Look, if she were a man…”
“Honestly, I don’t see how gender enters into this. She drugged, practically kidnapped, and half-tortured our boss. How exactly is this a gender issue?”
That ended the conversation.
“Look,” as I tried to interject a little peace, ”the fact of the matter is that she has a great deal more information than she first appeared to. Also, its obvious this case, as with most of our cases, is operating on many different levels. Some of which I may now have access to.”
I’d told them about my fun afternoon with Ms. Beaumont, though I’d left out a few of the more embarrassing bits. This wasn’t the first, nor was it likely to be the last, time this kind of thing had happened and I believe Megan and Andrew were starting to get sick of it. Given that it had happened to me and not them, I was touched by what I could only assume was their concern for my well-being. It was kind of nice.
“So, where do we go from here?”
“I’m not sure, Megan. I’ve got all this crap in my head that doesn’t seem to make much sense. I’ve done a couple tosses of the tarot, and that doesn’t seem to be helping. I’m not getting at the stuff I need. And I don’t know how. But I can very much feel it there.”
“I have an idea.”
“Yes, Andrew?”
“I think we are making this too complex. The tarot and other tools you use are primarily symbolic and you use them to get at the information you keep pushed as far outside your consciousness as possible. The data you want now is much closer. Lets use something simpler. A kind of mnemonic free association.”
“That feels like a pretty good idea. Martin?”
“I agree, Megan. Where do we start?”
“Simple things. Scents, shapes, colors. Scents especially. Very few things cause us to access memory more than scent.”
“Please, for the love of god, tell me we aren’t going to the mall.”
“Martin, he’s right. There’s two places there that will help. The perfume counter is one.”
“And the other?”
“Silly as it sounds, the candle store.”
“My life is a very odd thing to be.”
“Indeed,” came Andrew’s usual insight.
“Can’t I just stay here and get drunk?”
“I promise, when we get back.”
*
I hate the mall for obvious reasons. To prepare, I spent two full hours in meditation. The mall can be information overload for normal people. For me, it was like having all the fans at the superbowl screaming at me and me alone. It was crippling. And not just metaphorically. I mean, I would get so overloaded that I couldn’t keep my balance. Given what we were going to try, I had Megan get out the wheelchair. For those of you who haven’t ever been ferried around by an attractive internet sex goddess, I highly recommend it.
Unfortunately, Megan has her own problems.
“C’mon. It’s a gorgeous dress and its on sale. PLEASE can I go try it on?”
“No. This isn’t a shopping trip. This is work. Be a fashion plate on your own time.” Thank you Andrew.
“I’ll model it for you.” Megan winked in my direction. Totally unfair.
“No.”
Andrew was a much strong man than me. Then again, I was starting to think that everyone, male and female, were much stronger men than me.
“Did we have to park at the other end of the mall?” I asked.
“Did you see another spot? No, I didn’t think so.”
“Have I mentioned that you lose all sympathy for the handicapped when you don’t get your way?”
“Have I mentioned how great I’d look in that dress?”
“Endlessly.”
“Then lets call us even.”
I was completely unsure how that made us even in any way. I was, though, completely sure I should keep my mouth shut.
“You are sweating.”
“Yes, Andrew, I am. I am not having a very fun time keeping out all this signal. I really haven’t gotten deep enough into my meditation to handle all this. There’s lots of spill over. Like that kid over there. He just stole a video game and feels lousy about it. But he’s hoping it will impress his little girlfriend.”
“Always worked for me.”
“You never had a girlfriend.”
“Yes, but it always worked for me in the stories I made up in my head.”
“We have very different definitions of reality, don’t we?”
“Indeed.”
I sighed.
“We could put the bag on.”
“I am NOT getting pushed around the mall in a wheelchair by an attractive internet sex goddess with that bag over my head. I’ll look like someone who might bite the ear off of children.”
“OK, no bag then.”
“Awwww, you think I’m an internet goddess? That’s so sweet!”
“Yes, but I might nosh on children, so take that for what its worth.”
“To each his own.”
“If we can get back to the task at hand, we’ll start at Macy’s, get Martin to start sniffing some of the purfumes there, see if any of them click. I don’t expect them to, but we might get lucky. Do you remember if Ms. Beaumont was wearing anything?”
As we rolled past the food court, I contemplated giving them a very thorough rundown, which I’m sure would have pleased our employer.
“Not off the top of my head. Most of the time I was there I was, y’know, drunk and drugged.”
“Yes. Nicely done with that.”
“Hey! That is not my fault. She offered me a drink. She didn’t ask ‘Would you like a drink of this seriously and very illegally doped up whiskey’. I had no clue what was going to happen.”
“And if she HAD said that?”
“It would have depended on my mood.”
“You inspire confidence in all of us.”
“Someone’s got to.”
We arrived at the Macy’s fragrance counter. An hour later, I was half drunk from all the alcohol in the various scents I’d had sprayed at me. I’d also wasted a lot of effort fighting off Megan’s attempts to get me to try on make up. She was very playful today and I was beginning to wonder if there was a seed of jealousy planted thanks to Ms. Beaumont. Not that I had any illusions about my relationship with Megan, but I think she might have just been pissing a circle around me. As it were.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“This one, whatever it is, I think this one is important.” I sniffed again.
“Was she wearing it?” asked Andrew.
“No clue. Maybe. It might just be part of whatever that painting put in my head. But its like someone adjusted the sharpness on the TV. Things are less hazy.”
“Hm. This has a lavender base. Lets go to the candle store. We’ll try and focus on lavender candles.”
“I think we should also pick up a map.”
“We aren’t lost.”
“Of the world.”
“We still aren’t lost.”
“Just do it.” The wit of my companions is not always what I’m interested in.
We spent another couple hours in the candle store, sniffing each one like a 5 year old getting high off of markers. Then we picked up a big wall map and headed back to the office.
Megan was still upset about the dress, but had let it drop.
“OK, here’s the plan,” I started to explain, “We turn down the lights except for the one by the map. I sit here, have a few drinks, you light the candles, then you stay very quiet.”
“While exceedingly romantic, and much more so than I would have thought you had in you, it makes little sense.”
“As wonderful as a romantic evening with you would be, Andrew, its not that. I’ve got a shape forming in my mind. I want the candles to keep helping me sharpen it. Then, with any luck, I’ll be able to find a corresponding shape on the map. Smarter than I look, ain’t I?”
The lights went down, the candles were lit, the alcohol poured.
And all of us waited.



I breathed in the scents and watched the lights flicker.
“You know, if whatever shape you are seeing is anything other than a country or a state in the U.S., we’re out of luck.”
“Yes. I am aware of that. Now hush.”
The shape in my head was becoming more and more defined. And then is was perfect. My eyes crawled over the map again and again.
“Well?”
“Well what, Andrew?” I said, aggrevated.
“Do you have a match?”
“Obviously I don’t.”
“Obviously. Is the shape clear?”
“Yes. Very. Picture. I can actually visualize it on the map and nothing seems to fit.”
“What does it look like?”
“A blob.”
“Great.”
“I’m guessing it’s a city which, as you noted, means we are out of luck.”
“OK. I think we need to move on then. We’ll either stumble onto it later, or we won’t. What else creeped into that creepy head of yours?”
“Emotions, mostly. It was that kind of painting. A lot of anger and frustration. But I also get the image of a girl. And a secret. A quest or goal. And…”
I doubled over.
“Martin!” screamed Megan.
“No, no, its OK. Blood. There’s blood. Lots of it.”
“So it sounds like Mr. Beaumont is dead,” Andrew offered while Megan helped me back into my chair.
“No. I don’t think so. He’s definitely involved, but its not his blood.”
“You mean like that case with the exorcist?”
“Christ, I hope not.”
The silence signaled their agreement.
“Look, “ I said, trying to drive us away from this topic, and turning on the lights, “Let’s assume that it ISN’T as bad as that, but that Mr. Beaumont is indirectly involved. Its better for all of us.”
They nodded.
“Beaumont is a powerful man. And I believe more powerful than his paper trail would imply. His house is huge and the furniture is unreal. All three of us together couldn’t furnish a single room of his place. Ms. Beaumont says that its inheritance.”
“Not a chance. Or, at least, none of that paperwork every came my way and, in theory, it all came from his accountant.”
“Yes, Megan, I agree. My point was that it obviously didn’t come from an inheritance. And it didn’t come from his job. So we have to start looking at that. And, if possible, see if we can get on that mailing list.”
“What, I don’t make enough additional income for you?” she winked.
“Can’t hurt to get more. That said, I think we need to go over things in more detail. First, find the money source. Second, we need to try and piece together his physical movements. Third, we need to try and find his personal connections outside of the obvious list his wife and work gave us.”
“Gotcha.”
“I’ll take number 3. Megan, you might want to call our cell phone service. I’m about to rack up some minutes.”
*
It is amazingly boring to keep calling phone numbers and trying to convince people on the other end to tell you who they are. Luckily, the internet keeps a disturbingly large amount of information. Again, it is amazingly boring to keep plugging numbers into a search engine. However, a couple interesting things did come up.
“This is very strange.”
“What is?” Megan asked.
“Two things. One, I wasn’t able to get a hold of any of these ‘friends’ that are on vacation. Either they didn’t answer, or the service had been disconnected.”
“Could be that they are somewhere without service.”
“Unlikely. These are high-powered people. The idea of being out of touch would be kryptonite to them,” Andrew deduced.
“And the likelihood of one of them not paying their bill is low enough. But there were three who had disconnected service.”
“That bodes poorly.”
“You continue to be a master of understatement, Andrew. Thanks.”
“Part of my service.”
“Odder still are these five-digit phone numbers.”
“Wrong numbers, I’d assume. He started dialing, hit connect too fast.”
“These calls go on for 15 minutes or more.”
“That’s a long time to listen to a silent phone.”
“Oh, I dunno…sometimes it sounds like it might be nice.”
“Did you call them?”
“Yes, I called them. And I got what I expected. Nothing.”
“Well, that’s a first.” Chuckled Megan.
“But given that these numbers are in his call log and show way too much time spent on the line, we can assume that he wasn’t getting ‘nothing’. I think its time to call in your geek, Megan.”
“He is NOT ‘my geek’. He’s just this guy I know.”
“Yes. Who follows you around like a puppy.”
“He’s gay.”
“All the more reason to consider him ‘your geek’. He’s utterly enamored with you for non-sexual reasons. Let him call you ‘mommy’ and I’ll be he’ll work for free.”
“You are a complete and utter bastard.”
“Maybe. But I’m also right.”
“Can’t argue there.”
*
“Honestly, I don’t know what I can tell you. Your phone simply won’t connect this way.”
“Davey, we know he made calls using these numbers. We know these calls went through. But we can’t make the calls. There must be a reason why he could and we can’t.”
“Oh, there is. His cell is modified to use a pirate network. Someone has piggy backed their own communication network onto his provider’s. His network picks up the seemingly incomplete numbers, and, after a time, rejects them. When they get rejected, the pirate network checks to see if there’s a special code attached to the signal, and if there is, it picks them up and connects them using its own systems. His phone generates that code.”
“Wow. OK. So what do we have to do to find out where this is all going?”
“Get his cell phone.”
“If we could get his cell phone, I assume we could find him. If we could find him, I’m not certain we’d need to be paying you 300 dollars an hour for a consult.”
“I see your point but theres really not much I can do. I’ll talk to some friends though. They might know something. Might cost ya, though.”
“Of course. Look, get results, you get paid. Now go.”
He skipped off, literally. I hate clichés. No, sorry, that’s just untrue.
“Andrew, I think I need you to go be scary for a bit.”
“Oh, goodie.”
“Go find out where his friends went on vacation. I’m starting to have a very bad feeling about this. Start with the company’s travel agent.”
“Or, alternately, I could start with the people these people answer to.”
“Which means that they would have had to actually told people where they were going. The travel agent would have purchased the tickets. That’s the closest thing to a fact that we’ll get. Start there.”
“And if they didn’t use the company agent?”
“Dunno. Ask me later.”
“Just making this up as you go along, aren’t you?”
“Seems to be working so far.”
“’Working’ is an interesting choice of words. May I remind you that not very long ago, we had to spend 4 weeks cleaning fish to get home from hunting down a man who thought he was a bear. ‘Working’ is not quite how I would describe this operation all the time.”
“Did you get home?”
“Yes.”
“Did we get paid?”
“Yes.”
“Did you earn a new respect for the working man and, on top of that, a new love of showers?”
“No and Yes.”
“Then I’m batting .750. I’ll take that.”
“I do not believe that that particular situation is an adequate sampling nor do I believe that your analysis weighed the positives and negatives of the whole situation.”
“No, but then again, what else do you have going on these days?”
“Not very much, I’ll admit.”
“And if you weren’t here, what would you be doing.”
“Probably staring at a blank wall waiting for you to come home and amuse me.”
“So, are you better off here with me improvising or home watching paint while waiting for me in hopes of entertainment?”
“Touche.”
“And now you’ll be doing what?”
“Going out to intimidate the unfortunate person who made reservations for our missing friends.”
“Thanks. Glad we could have this talk.”
I smiled.
Andrew left laughing.
“My, you do seem to be a grumpy gus at the moment, don’t you?
“Megan, if I’m right, I’m pretty sure that we’re going to be getting on an airplane soon, going someplace relatively exotic, trekking over desolate land to some beautiful hideaway.”
“Yes, I can see the source of your misery.”
“And there we are going to find a whole lot of dead bodies.”
“Dead bodies.”
“Murdered bodies.”
“Exotic murdered bodies?”
“Probably.”
“But we’ll also be in an exotic vacationesque area, right?”
“How the hell do you manage to push all that into the background and think about vacationing?”
“It’s a gift. Try it sometime.”
“I’ve had worse advice. Anyhow, when Andrew calls in, do whatever you have to to get us on a plane where ever it is we need to go. And take care of everything else involved too, like if we need to rent a burro or something.”
“Sure, moneybags.”
“Oh, right. Use this.” I handed her a platinum card.
“OK, you’ve been holding out.”
“Read the name.”
“Andrea Beaumont.”
“I figured it was the least she could do.”
She laughed.
“And, y’know, order us a couple pizzas. I’m still really hung-over. And a bottle of expensive champagne. That’ll help too. All on the card.”
“It’s the least she can do. Should I get anything for Andrew?”
“Nah. I think he’s gonna be a while. I plan on being very unconscious when he gets back.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Just to show him I do, in fact, know how to plan.”
“Or fall down drunk. Which ever.”
“Hey, you can plan to fall down drunk. I do it often.”
I started to think about how all this had started, and what I’d just said.
It got funnier by the minute.