The Killing Collective

by Gary Starta

  Deeprose was mesmerized by the hundreds of tiny stars above her, sparkling gold and silver against a pitch-black ceiling that she could almost convince herself was the night sky. Deeprose noticed Agent Seacrest was also looking up at the stars, but she was frowning.

  She’s still thinkin’ about the case…like Ah am.

  The jukebox blast into the room with a whole string of Duke Ellington classics. And Seacrest knew the name of every one of them. Deeprose was impressed; she would never have guessed that Agent Seacrest had a passion for World War II oldies.

  The live music shows were well known for playing all kinds of jazz, from legitimate to straight-ahead to swing. Here, you could kick back, avoid the tourists, and hear a pianist whose Rhapsody in Blue left you with your mouth hanging open. Then, if you were invited, you could stay after hours and listen to the band blow their heads off until the early hours of the morning.

  Deeprose, the incurable optimist, clapped with enthusiasm when the band finally came on.

  “Ready for another Manhattan, ladies?”

  Deeprose answered, “Not just now, ma’am. Just some water. What’s in those things, anyway?”

  “Three parts bourbon and one part sweet red vermouth. And a cherry.”

  “Good God! Is that what Ah’ve been drinkin’?”

  Seacrest rested her chin on her right hand. “This time I want something, a bit more…I don’t know…wild.”

  “How about a Red-Eyed Zombie?”

  Seacrest sat straight up. “I like that idea. Bring two, please.”

  “Ah haven’t had a stiff drink since leavin’ Alabama.”

  “Noooo problem, Shania. Can I call you that outside the office now?”

  “Ah’d be pleased if you would, Jill. I wonder where Agent Carter is.”

  Seacrest turned toward the stage to watch the band. “Not going to worry about that! Carter’s a big boy.”

  “It’s pretty amazin’ that y‘all can be so different and still work so well together.”

  “It’s a big pain, sometimes, but mostly very nice. Very nice, indeedy-do.”

  “Ah hope Ah get along with my husband like that.” Deeprose looked sideways at Seacrest and burst out laughing. “But first Ah gotta catch ‘im.”

  Seacrest glanced around the room. “Maybe it’s not going to be as hard as you think. There’s a nice-looking gentleman at one o’clock who’s got his eye on you.”

  “One o’clock from where?”

  “From where you are. To your right and a few feet behind me.” Seacrest picked up the drink menu again, and with downcast eyes and a frown of concentration, furtively checked him out using her compact mirror. “I think you should go for it!”

  “What makes you think that fella’s lookin’ at me?”

  “Why not, Shania? He’s certainly not looking at me. You can see my wedding ring from space and besides, my back is to him. Seacrest held up her hand to reveal a magnificent Vera Wang diamond and sapphire engagement ring and matching wedding band. “This is the only jewelry I wear except for my necklace. See the pendant? It’s the night sky. The disk is made of Lapis Lazuli, and the moon and stars are diamonds. Carter gave it to me six months after we met. When he put it around my neck, he said that we both risked our lives for a living and that he wanted me to promise him that if anything ever happened to him, I would look up at the night sky, say a prayer, and search for the brightest star. That would be Carter telling me that I had been loved and that wherever he was, he was content.” Seacrest choked up a little.

  “Agent Carter said that? Ah didn’t think he had that many words in ‘im.”

  “Still waters run deep. Look, why don’t you visit the restroom, so you can walk past him? When you clear him, take a quick look back. If he’s been watching you walk away, he’s as good as hooked. Carpe diem, Shania.”

  “Maybe after another one of these zombie things. It’s hot in here!”

  Seacrest knocked Shania’s menu off the table. “Ooops!”

  Deeprose bent to pick it up and took the unexpected opportunity to glance at the chocolate-brown man wearing a lime button-down shirt with a matching tie so deep in color, it was almost black. Slightly nervous, she began winding a strand of black hair around her finger. “But do ya really think he’s my type?”

  “Wouldn’t know. But he’s in the band. Ever date a musician, Shania?”

  Deeprose scanned the walls without moving her head. Sure enough, the man was featured on a poster. He was holding a saxophone and smiling like he really meant it.

  “Men are a little slow on the uptake, Shania. If you don’t grab him with both hands, it could be a long, lonely winter.”

  “Ah see.” Deeprose giggled. “Is Agent Carter thick too?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Seacrest rolled her eyes. “Top of the list.” She nodded her head. “You don’t know how many coffee dates I had to sit through until the light finally dawned on him. Thick as a brick. Some Zen Master!”

  “Dear Lord, that gentleman’s headin’ this way. Keep an eye on my Red-Eyed Zombie. Ah’ll be right back.”

  ***

  “Before I answer your question, Agent Carter, tell me about how you caught your suspect.”

  Carter gripped the arms of his chair. “Carter went on to explain that he studied the video of Michael taken by the security camera at the museum, until he could mimic, in his mind, Michael’s gait and posture, and tried to crawl into his head. They took a chance that the murderer might hang around the area where the crime was committed, and it all hit pay dirt.

  I know that sounds ridiculous, but that’s what happened. I just tried to get a feeling for who he was and we found him. I haven’t told Jill or Agent Deeprose about it, yet, and I’m not sure I should.”

  “It doesn’t sound ridiculous to me, Agent Carter. Women do that all the time. It’s hard to say exactly what it is. We plug into the social conscious pretty much the same way you do, except that we don’t have to think about it. I can suggest a book, easy and quick to get through, that will show you how to reconnect with people. If you follow the instructions to the letter, certain habits and behaviors of the mind and body will change, with practice and over time, until it is a second nature.

  “Agent Carter, I’m about to save you thousands of dollars in therapy; you look inward. A lot. You do your best to ignore people but worry about not understanding them and about them misunderstanding you. You see where ignoring them has gotten you. Excessive worry won’t change your situation or your outlook. Only you can do that. Change your behaviors and your mind and heart will follow.

  “Agent Carter, you are far too introspective for a man who claims he can chuck everything away in the back of his mind and not be bothered by it. You are spinning your wheels worrying and worrying so much about worrying! Worry is self-focused and results in thoughts and behaviors that are self-centered. For instance, your body language, voice, and demeanor clearly discourages people from approaching you.”

  “Really? I thought I was so much better at that now. You know all that about me just from me being here and telling you this story tonight?”

  “Textbook, Agent. We can work more on this together, but the upshot is you have to force yourself to be interested in others, try to like them for who they are, interact with them, ask questions and give honest answers to theirs. Be interested in their problems, their joys, their sorrows. Get involved. Paste a face on it; it someone’s crying on your shoulder, don’t push them away. Smile a lot more. Or at all. Do your best not to think about yourself when there are people around. It’s called engaging the world. Work on open and welcoming body language and your tone of voice.

  “Now, tell me everything you can about the facts of the case. Let’s see if there’s anything helpful I can add.”

  Carter explained everything he could to her, in detail.

  “Regarding how likely it is for a group of angry or fearful people to ignite into a raging mob, the answer is ‘very likely’ if the combined elements are present i
n the right proportions at the right time. From a psychosocial perspective hate can be said to be a contagious disease because it travels through a live social system infecting everything in its path, like cancer devouring a body. Have you ever heard of the Contagion Theory?”

  ***

  Deeprose extended her right hand to Wilson. He took it in both of his and smiled back at her.

  Be careful, now, remember he’s a musician. Oh, shut up and live a little.

  “You have beautiful green eyes, pretty lady. We match tonight.”

  “Thank you. My name is Shania. Ah saw your name on one of the posters. Wilson, isn’t it? Are you playin’ tonight?”

  “I am. I am.” Wilson patted a hand on his chest. “Best saxophonist on the East Side, if I do say so myself.”

  “Ah’ve always heard that musicians and bartenders are a great judge of character. Do you consider yourself a great judge of character?”

  “Funny you should ask that question! Yes, I consider myself an excellent judge of character. I’m pretty good at knowing the real stories from the bull, but tonight I overheard a conversation a bunch of college-age kids were having about some meeting they went to. It was a kind of a part social, part political organization called the Collective. The ideas they heard there had some of them pretty freaked out. To tell you the truth, just hearing about it freaked me out a little, too.”

  “Tell me, Wilson, are they still here? Can you point them out to me without using your hands?”

  “I can. They’re sitting three tables to the left of yours- just there, against the wall - the big, round table with all the twenty-somethings. Don’t let them know I eaves dropped and spilled the beans, O.K.? They’re potential fans.” Wilson beamed at Deeprose and pointed at the stage. “Excuse me for just a little bit, Shania; I have to start warming up for the next set. I hate to be so forward, but I’d like to see you again. Can I have your number?”

  “With pleasure, Wilson. Maybe you can even put me on your mailin’ list.” Wilson grabbed a pen on a nearby table and wrote it down on the back of his hand.

  “Stick around a while. I’ll find something real special to play for you.”

  Shania smiled to herself. She was beginning to feel more at home in New York, and she liked that.

  ***

  Dr. Lewis pointed at the T.V. screen hanging on the wall. “If you take a look at the screen, you can read all about Gustave Le Bon, a French psychologist, who proposed that crowd psychology differed from that of the individual.” She returned the remote to a small table beside her.

  “I would rather hear it from you, Dr. Lewis.” Carter smiled attentively.

  “Certainly. Crowds can radically alter the individual’s mindset and subsequent behavior, at least within a very short window of time. Le Bon believed that the influence of the crowd could make a sane and very moral person do things, as part of a crowd, that he would never do as an individual or anywhere else. However, there are some who argue the Convergence Theory, which states that certain individuals come together to behave in a certain way and often influence others in the crowd who already share their beliefs. Freud believed in something he called a circular reaction, where each person repeats the bad behavior of another, allowing the perpetrator to keep his influence resonating. Because this is a stimulus which generates an almost automatic reaction, individuals might be able to abandon logic or morals, even for one momentary thrill.”

  “Dr. Lewis, could contagion or convergence theory work on huge numbers of people? Could it be used to influence people on a national level for political, social, and economic purposes? I’m trying not to go there, but…is that a technique that would have been employed by a man like Hitler on crowds of thousands?”

  “Maybe not on such a dramatic level most of the time, but the comparison is valid, yes. On the opposite side of the coin, for sheer reach and influence, there’s Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. It's the central teaching of one of the world's great religions, and, as you know, still studied and recounted not just in schools and religious institutions but by people all over the world. Jesus inspired passion, but it was for love and forgiveness instead of vengeance, gain, and punishment.”

  “Doctor, how could this speaker get through to the hearts and minds of the crowd so easily and in so short of a time?”

  “He would indicate that he’s one of them and that he understands their pain, give them a reason for their suffering that seems plausible, encourage and inspire them to hate and punish, and promise them a better life or after-life if they put his ideas into practice. Men like that have even convinced their followers to commit suicide.”

  “Do you think people are still as susceptible to manipulation as they were in the past? Could it still happen today?”

  “Absolutely. A crowd can be connected technologically; they no longer have to be physically present to gather together, so now you can easily communicate with so many more people at one time and deliver audio-visual effects that are captivating, even theatrical. As long as the techniques used are pretty much as I described, and assuming the audience is affected by this person to the degree that they become passionate to join the cause, anything is possible – from joining a club to riot and revolution. Effectively manipulating people and exerting one’s will over them in the modern world requires only access to their eyes, ears, and mind.”

  “What about a drug? Could a drug be used to exacerbate the effects of the contagion and convergence theories enough to make an individual want to….kill?”

  “Yes. However, if ‘wanting’ becomes ‘doing’, no matter how strong a drug is, we still have free will and can choose whether or not to resist it, with an exception. If a person is unaware he’s been drugged, he may not be able to distinguish fantasy from reality. Drugs can be used to control brain activity and hormones, but you never know what else you may be letting out of the can when you use them. A drug would be considered by anyone administering it, a temporary measure or a safeguard.

  “Le Bon suggested that, in a period of widespread discontent, crowd action serves to destroy an old order in preparation for a new one. Social movements help to build the new order, but really, it doesn’t matter what’s discussed at the large gatherings we’re describing. The speaker doesn’t care about anything other than getting people there and keeping them there because he has plans of his own for them.”

  “Unbelievable. I truly appreciate your insights into social behavior in general as well as my own. This has been most enlightening, Doctor.”

  Dr. Lewis glanced at her watch. “I hate to say it, Agent Carter, but we’ve just about run out of time for today. Would you like to schedule another appointment?

  ***

  Carter hustled through the foot traffic, abandoning his cab to make better time. He was excited and disturbed by Dr. Lewis’ explanations, but that would keep until tomorrow. He raced to the jazz club, ready to kick back and let go.

  ***

  “Nice of you to show.” Seacrest stood up, teetering slightly on her heels. She offered Carter a mighty scowl. “We waited all night for you. What could possibly have been so important?”

  “Really, Jill, it was very important and very last minute, or I never would have been so late. I promise to explain the whole thing to you.”

  “Explain it to me now, big guy…”

  Someone was tapping Seacrest annoying and persistently on the shoulder. “Agents, y’all gotta see this for yourselves.” Deeprose maneuvered them toward a bunch of millennials at a large table next to the wall

  A man with shockingly red hair and a baby blue sweater waved his cell phone in Carter’s direction. “Maybe you can settle this for us.” Carter smiled and nodded at the young man. “Sure, buddy. What’s a night out with friends without a good debate?”

  Carter blushed as a tipsy Seacrest trailed her hand along his thigh closest to her.

  The red-haired man smiled back. “Dude, that chick really likes you.”

  “You know, I think you may
be right.” Carter whispered in the man’s ear. “Think I should ask her out?”

  “Yeah, but have a drink first; she’s way ahead of you.”

  He showed Carter a video he’d recorded earlier that night. That was the subject of the debate. After he saw it, Carter nodded to Deeprose, who rose to follow him. “We’ll be right back, everyone. Don’t finish the party without us.”

  “Look man, now he’s got another one!” The party roared with laughter.

  “What’s going on, Agent Deeprose? What is it you think they can tell me? All I saw was a replay of a video of a speech given by some evangelical-type of man. I’m not connecting the dots. Can you help me out, here?”

  “These people may have just broken our case, Agent Carter!” She quickly described to Carter, in detail, the event they all attended earlier this evening. “They told me, Agent Carter, in their own words, that as soon as they realized this man was talkin’ about real violence, they bolted.”

  Carter had to acknowledge to himself that when it came to enthusiasm, socializing, and charming information out of people, Deeprose was truly gifted. And as it turned out, she was right. She’d spied out a group of attendees and flushed out a promising suspect like it was all in a day’s work.

  “I think I know where you’re going with this; you think this speaker may be connected to Michael and the drug we confiscated. All right, let’s run with it and see where it leads. We’ll have to tread lightly, though. We don’t want to scare them off. I want a closer look at that video. Agent Deeprose, you’re a natural when it comes to putting people at ease. Do you think you could get that redhead to let you borrow his phone?”

  “Piece o’ cake, sir.”

  “ Ah think Ah can settle your debate, all right, Red!” She tousled his hair and he blushed furiously. “How ‘bout Ah spring for a round o’ drinks for y’all, an’ you can tell me all about it? Ah’m all ears.” Deeprose gifted the man, now known to her as Red, with a thousand-watt smile he’d never forget.

  Millennials, one and all, raised their glasses, and shouted, “Cheers!”