JUSTICE REBORN (A Charlie Taylor Novel Book 1)

by Ivan Bering

  Just because we signal AHEAD, it’s no guarantee that we will end up at some future event. This all depends on the skill of the scanner and I think luck. Not all brain schema behave or present the same, some are very complex and not a simple chronological street address pattern. Dr. Kate used to say she can’t explain the scanning process, but she says it’s important the scanner not be interrupted. She says it’s not logical, but a good scanner will get a feeling for the patterns

  I hope the next jump doesn’t land us a few hours prior to the cruiser scene; if we go back a couple of hours in time, Ronald is finished. No way the Historian or the scanner will move away from that image, a body, and three drunk teenage boys..

  Next image up is a prison setting; good, we have jumped ahead; may the scanner has the pattern; I hope we can keep this rhythm. Both of us hit the ‘BACK’ button. Again there is a delay before a new set of images develop.

  This is it. A perfect scene for our purposes, two men in a heavy discussion. Ronald is arguing with a small unpleasant man; this guy I know, the robber at the liquor store; he was shot during the robbery and died at the hospital a few days later. Before he died, he provided a death bed confession and declaration …….. find my old partner, Ronald……the bastard fled the scene….my old partner shot the clerk……..Ronald was the one who panicked.

  He said it was Ron’s premature fleeing which pissed him off and lead to his being shot and captured. The monitor displays a small club with a long bar which runs from the front door to the back of the premise. Tall bar stools run in parallel to the bar, and on the wall facing the patrons is a large mirror, the full length of the club. It’s in this mirror we see Ron and his buddy.

  Reflected in the mirror both faces are clear, even with the many bottles of booze blocking the bottom segments of their bodies. The heavy discussion has escalated into a violent argument. The guy is close to a frenzy. This job is an easy score, and he is already counting the money.

  He needs Ron and the refusal angers him. He begs but this is not working, next he tries physical threats but this is rather pathetic, given the size discrepancy. Ronald continues to refuse the guy, and after some heavy screaming and cursing, the man walks away. With a few fist shakes, he leaves the bar.

  A tall woman with an extreme hair style slides on to the vacant stool next to Ron; they’re instant friends and the drinks arrive for both. This is the woman no one could find and who was his alibi for the time of the robbery and murder.

  I still remember the bar and the decor which I considered over the top, many ersatz pieces. This old fashion club proves to be Ron’s salvation. One of the gaudy pieces is a huge pulsating wall clock which reflects time and date; the clock hangs slightly above eye level on the mirror, easy to read. I let it play to ensure we get the confirmation to prove he was in the bar at the critical time. I give the ‘sign off’ signal, the Historian follows.

  This killer who died in the hospital was an angry, mean son of a bitch, and his final act of revenge was a false declaration. I leave the room with the Historian. John is teasing me. I never knew the bastard had a sense of humor. He sees my shaking hands and thinks this is funny, a homicide detective stressed with a crime scene. The Historian says his goodbye; he’s in a hurry; their team is going to celebrate. The Fort Green project is completed. I’m surprised to hear him say he will join a team celebration.

  I’m feeling damn good, and I know the Monk will be dancing when he hears. I won’t tell Sam; I’ll make him call me for the news. Time to get the hell out of here.

  CHAPTER 44: Charlie’s Log: the Parking Lot

  I think about visiting Ron’s cell but reject the idea.

  It’s a long walk to the parking lot. Jesus, why do they have these long halls and frigging security gates every 20 feet? I want to get out of here. I’m almost through the last gate, when I hear my name being called. Oh Christ! It’s Red. I knew she was in control of the scanning today, alone because of the staff shortages. What the hell does she want?

  “Charlie, I was the Medical Tech for Ronald today and thought I should make you aware of a few things about the process. Even when I have a probing position established, I have to work with numerous screens and a range of memory pockets. An interesting and confusing array bounce around before I allow an image up to a Watcher’s monitor. Often these pockets jump around the main event; some streams are ahead of the event and others after the event. But they all are on the screen for five to ten seconds and then flick to another set of transient images.

  These temporary screens are all valid images derived from his memory and assist with the process which we use to establish a focal point and a stable output stream. We don’t allow all these images up to the Watcher because it would be confusing. The Watcher would see overlapping pictures with rapidly shifting time frames, a mixed kaleidoscope of future and past all around the event. Hence, we keep that to ourselves. We observe and wait until we have an established firm picture we can feed up to the Watchers. ”

  She wants a reaction. Well, screw her. I have had enough of her. I don’t know where this is going, but it doesn’t sound good. It appears she saw too goddamn much. I try not to fidget, try to look calm, which has been my goal all day, and ask her. “Alright Miss Scanner, is there a point to this lesson?”

  I can’t read her; she continues. “Yes. When the Watcher signals AHEAD or BACK, his screen goes blank, but our transmission of images keeps rolling. It’s like slamming on the brakes in your car, it takes time to stop the stream from flowing; and, our screens will jump around both forward and backward around the time point. We get to see a great deal more than the Watchers.

  Sometimes these images are very clear, and we see a full history of the primary image the Watchers were monitoring, other times more chaos at these transient points.

  The reason it took a long time to get the cruiser scene up to your monitor is the first control point landed ahead of the cruise scene. On the early history of that night I couldn’t get a firm setting; the pictures kept jumping, and I could barely follow the story. Finally, the scene stabilized, and the cruiser images arrived at your monitor.

  I think the initial memory is very emotional for Ronald; that’s probably the reason it proved so difficult for me to stabilize the stream and stop the violent jumping of the various images. What do you think?”

  I know I’m in real trouble, down the sewer with Ronald. I’m trying to think of a way out and nothing is coming. Screw it, try and bluff. “OK, you get to see the full show and more. I’m still waiting.”

  She is actually smiling and knows she has me. “You’re rather fast to move away from the cruise scene. And the guy in the passenger seat looked familiar and rather young to be helping a patrolman.”

  “Is there a question here, because I am in a hurry?”

  “Relax Charlie, I saw and assessed the entire show. Normally, there’re two of us in the scanner room but because of the Dr. Kate issue I worked alone today. I made the decision about which part of the scan to save for the court records. I didn’t think there was anything relevant about the cruiser scene and didn’t retain any of the transient images occurring prior to the cruiser scene

  I just kept the bar scene. Before you ask: legal representatives have their own facilities. I only send them the memory stream which is relevant and the Historian has sanctioned; they don’t get swamped with all the intermediate hits and misses.”

  I’m usually not lost for words but not one smart ass comment surfaces; at this point I remember her reputation, empathy for the less fortunate. I mumble. “Thanks Emma, Ronald will appreciate your expertise.”

  “Charlie, I know Ron’s history, an overzealous prosecutor, a sloppy detective, a biased judge and numerous failed appeals. I thought he was unjustly sentenced and feel Ronald has suffered enough and shouldn’t have to pay another penalty for one night of a teenage drunk.”

  With that she starts walking away down the hall; after a few steps she turns. “Why don’t you call me
tomorrow? I will be finished here, and we can go for the dinner and the dance you wanted.” After that bombshell, she turns and walks down the hall.

  Can you believe this?.........What a great ass……Jesus Christ!

  THE END

  An excerpt from the second Charlie Taylor novel: A DISCONNECTED MIND

  It was a computer generated sound, a weird combination of tones, edgy with distorted harmonics. I know it’s impossible, but the voice sounded psychotic.

  I was at Manuel’s desk, at his request, and impatient to get back to mine. In order to face me Manuel shifted his entire upper torso; more rehab was required before he would regain normal flexibility and range of motion in his neck and upper body. A few months ago, the Five Star serial killer stabbed him. The stabbing and subsequent recovery drained some of his confidence; he was a more subdued detective who now frequently asked for direction or permission.

  I said, “Again.”

  Manuel smiled and hit play.

  “You may call me Robin Hood. I will be taking from the rich and famous and distributing to the less fortunate. You will know I have arrived when you start finding the body parts. My final signature will be a painted target on the chest with an arrow right through the bull’s eye. If you want to stop me, solve these audio clues; it will not be easy because I am the avatar of a Hindu god.

  It is Tuesday, August 24th, 2021; you have a few days. Have a nice day.”

  The rest of the audio consisted of four sound bites, each about 30 seconds long with five-second gaps between each sample:

  Giggling: was a high-pitched sound, like a young man or a boy, a little wild or out of control, scared, or perhaps hysterical.

  Snorting: was an emotional man, taking gulps of air between the snorts: ready to attack or under attack?

  Cursing: was an older man who was upset or sounding off: a string of unrelated profanity, loud, angry, some words slurred.

  Wailing: was a young woman or girl, frustrated, almost a screaming, moments of silence and then another piercing wail. A cry for help? In pain?

  The third Charlie Taylor novel: KILL ALL OF THEM

  The random scattering of clothing on either side of the bed made it apparent no one gave any consideration to the next wearing or the disorderly housekeeping.

  On the bed, the large man left little room for the woman resting on her stomach. The giant lay on his back, snoring, arms positioned like a cross, one arm outside the bed, the other over the top of a woman. She did not complain nor did it wake her. Unfortunately, she would never wake up, not this morning or any morning.

  When he did wake up, the hangover headache would not help; but Monk would have some decisions to make.

  The end