Memories of a Murder

by Sid Kar

  They were inside in under half a minute and Frank locked the door. Both of them put on the gloves from a wall dispenser. Frank went over to the locker number that held Adam’s body and pulled open its door. The body had not been moved out to the Morgue because Frank as the case officer had to authorize its release. Now he would be in no hurry to do so. Meanwhile Joe had laid down his donut box on a side table.

  Frank and Joe pulled out the aluminum flat from the locker and then slowly rolled over Adam’s body onto the center steel top. Frank walked over to Adam’s head and motioned for Joe to bring over the freezer. Joe took out the freezer from the donut box and walked over. Frank was trying to pull off the top of Adam’s head that had been cut earlier by Dr. Evans.

  “I hope he didn’t glue it back,” Joe nervously giggled.

  “He wouldn’t have. I haven’t signed off yet so he can’t be certain if I won’t ask him to examine the brain again,” Frank said.

  The top did not come off so Frank tried spinning it and then it came off in his hand. He put it aside on the steel table.

  “Bring that freezer, Joe,” Frank said.

  Joe opened the freezer. Frank picked up stainless steel tongs from the table, knelt down to look inside the skull and gradually pulled out the brain and dropped it in the freezer.

  Joe was trying to look away, so Frank himself closed the freezer.

  “It’s shut,” Frank said. “Put it back.”

  Joe went back to put freezer in the box. Frank reattached the removed top back to Adam’s head. Joe had started eating a donut.

  “Joe, what the hell?” Frank said.

  “I can’t eat them after they are in it with his brain,” Joe pointed to the freezer. Frank walked over and put the freezer in the box himself.

  “Forget them. I will get you more,” Frank said, “help me put him back.”

  Frank and Joe pushed Adam’s body back in the locker. Frank quickly washed the tongs. They took off their gloves and shoved them in their own pockets. Frank peeked out the door, saw no one was in the hallway and jumped out followed by Joe holding the box. They trotted out of the police headquarters without looking left or right. As they approached Frank’s cruiser in the parking lot, a trooper crossed their path.

  “Hey, Joe, are you not going to share that with the rest of us?” she asked.

  “All mine,” Joe smirked and walked past her. Frank said nothing.

  They got in the car and Frank backed out of the lot and put them on a course to the office of Friedrich Brandt.

  “He working today?” Joe asked when Frank pulled off of the highway and into the parking lot of the pharma company.

  “I texted him early this morning that I am going through with the plan, and he said he would be here,” Frank said, “no one but him will be here to get curious seeing the police.”

  The company office was a nondescript two story office building of glass and steel. It was set independently amidst its own parking lot and its own road to the highway. There were only two cars in the parking lot besides Frank’s.

  Frank knocked on the glass door and the security guard inside let them in.

  “Officers, no one called 911,” the private guard behind the desk said.

  “I am here to meet Friedrich Brandt,” Frank said.

  “I don’t think anybody…” the security guard checked his computer and saw his ID had actually entered the building, “…surprisingly Mr. Brandt is here. Anything wrong?”

  “No, we are off duty, it’s a social visit, he is expecting us,” Frank put on a fake smile, “on our way back home from the station, so didn’t bother changing out of the uniforms.”

  “Alright, officers, go to the right hand hallway, a floor up and all the way to the end,” the guard said. Frank and Joe followed his directions, went up and knocked on the door of the last room down the corridor with Friedrich’s name plate.

  “Come in, boys,” Friedrich’s voice called out from inside. The door was open and Frank and Joe walked in. Frank locked the door from inside.

  Joe took out the portable freezer from the box and handed it to Friedrich.

  “I can’t tell you boys how excited I am,” he exclaimed opening the freezer, “we are making history here.”

  “Or circus,” Joe chuckled.

  “Have you done preparations?” Frank asked.

  “After our conversation yesterday, I could not sleep,” Friedrich said, “I have been here since early this morning setting up equipment, collecting materials we will need for the experiment.”

  “I want to make it clear—the brain can’t be damaged during this experiment,” Frank said.

  “You mistake me again; I am not a neurosurgeon,” Friedrich laughed. He already had gloves on and picked up the brain from the freezer and walked over to a large black granite table with lab equipment placed atop. He placed the brain on the weighing scale.

  “Good, because I want to return the brain as is before anyone notices tomorrow morning,” Frank said.

  Friedrich turned his neck to look at Frank with disbelief.

  “Frank, this isn’t your fast food. It will take me weeks, months to extract memories from this…if I even can,” he said.

  “Months…no way, you have two weeks,” Frank said, “I have to release the body after 15 days to the family members or provide a written reason and have it signed by my Captain. We are already on the third day, but the weekend after the last day gives us two more. And I don’t believe it is right for us to try to pry into this man’s personal memories.”

  “What are we doing then?” Friedrich asked.

  “I am conflicted. On one hand, he would want his killer to be identified and caught, but we can’t go beyond that,” Frank said.

  “That’s not possible, you see. I can’t separate memories related to his murder from others without first extracting and processing them,” Friedrich said.

  “But you will delete anything not related to this crime right away or I will stop this experiment,” Frank said.

  “I promise,” Friedrich replied then turned to the brain on the scale, “one point three kilos or for you three pounds, give or take. What I expected although it has lost some mass due to the bullet. Otherwise the brain is healthy.”

  “Boy had lung cancer,” Joe said, “smoked like a chimney.”

  Friedrich turned his head to look at Joe wide-eyed but said nothing. Frank suppressed his laughter.

  Friedrich picked up the brain and inserted his gloved finger through the hole tunneled by the bullet. Joe squirmed back.

  “Bullet entered through the frontal lobe and exited top from the parietal lob,” Friedrich explained, “rest of the brain is intact. This is not optimal – I would have preferred an undamaged specimen – but we are fortunate the bullet didn’t strike at a straight angle and shatter the brain.”

  “I believe the killer fired from the steps hence the upward angle,” Frank said, “So, Herr Friedrich, when do we come back? I was hoping today you might pull out some…” Frank stumbled on words. He meant to say clues, but he didn’t really know what he expected. What information did one get from the dead brains?

  “Stay, Detective Frank, and you too, Constable Joseph,” Friedrich said, “I think I will have something for you.”

  “Just Joe,” Joe said, “And I ain’t a damn constable. Proud deputy of Gaston and honorary detective of State Police.”

  “As you say, Joe,” Friedrich said then turned to his lab table, dumped the brain into a large glass beaker that was half filled with solutions and the splash sent a few drops over the edge.

  Frank was startled, “What are you doing? The brain is not to be damaged.”

  “No worries, Frank,” Friedrich replied, “This is just an ionized solution of sodium and potassium that is necessary to get the electric signal to pass from the brain into my instruments. We will soak it just for two minutes.”

  Frank watched with apprehension as Friedrich clocked two minutes on his wrist watch.

&nbs
p; Then he picked up the brain in both hands from the beaker, let it drip for a few moments and then placed it in a square shaped freezer of his own that was made of glass and transparent on all sides with a door in front. He turned on the freezer to the maximum cool setting and a gust of white fog rushed out of the machine. Slowly it dissipated and then stabilized. Friedrich started attaching a multitude of electrodes to the brain.

  “These electrodes are going to send electrical signals from the brain into my computer,” Friedrich said.

  “Huh…forgive my ignorance Herr Friedrich,” Frank said, “but how in the world are there signals in a dead brain?”

  “All you are going to get Err, is a flat line on your screen,” Joe added.

  “No…no…no,” Friedrich waved his finger at Frank and Joe, “this is where I disagree. It is currently believed that the brain is a unitary whole and it lives and dies all at once. The flat line as you call it, no doubt what you have seen on television,” Friedrich said, “is supposed to be the end of the brain as a whole. But my theory is that the brain is not a unitary organ, we only feel the illusion of it. The neurons have their own independent life. Just like any other machine, Brain has parts and components. Failure of a critical component may shut down the machine and stop it from working altogether but that doesn’t mean all the other parts have become completely useless.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Frank asked confused. Joe had already tuned out.

  “We know from evolutionary biology that the human brain has many layers that were added over time – reptilian brain, mammalian brain and all that, and I know from my research into Alzheimer’s that some parts of the brain, some collection of neurons can die out, while others are alive. There is memory loss of many events and facts, but not of the memory altogether. Perhaps the memory that was lost leaked in bits and pieces to other parts that are functioning and can be put back together. Mayhaps with computer algorithms.”

  Frank scratched his chin and looked at Joe who had completely blanked out with his eyes and mouth open wide. “Just get me some memories of the murder,” Frank said.

  “Here we go,” Friedrich had a wide grin on his face now. Even if he hadn’t convinced the policemen, he had dazzled them sufficiently that no further resistance would be forthcoming from them.

  He connected half of the electrode wires to a powerful voltage amplifier and connected the wires from the amplifier to a device attached to his large 40-inch computer monitor.

  “Why you got to amp the signal?” Frank asked.

  “As it is the strength of nerve signals is very low even in a live brain. From this one the signal might be down to microvolts,” Friedrich said

  “You are doing an EEG?” Frank asked

  “Yes Electroencephalography. I am going to feed this brain’s remaining electrical activity into my computer,” Friedrich replied. Then he connected the remaining electrode wires directly to a second device on the other side of his monitor. “But I am also going to do a Magnetoencephalography using the other electrode wires. This gives me a picture of the magnetic fields generated by the brain.”

  “I have seen EEG and MEG results for suspects considered insane, and I never saw anything that could be called a memory,” Frank expressed skepticism.

  “Any neuroscientist can do those,” Friedrich scoffed, “my work begins now. I feed the electromagnetic signals into these connected devices,” he pointed to the two gadgets connected to the electrode wires, “They convert them into data that computer can process. I have written algorithms that take that data and then utilizing the software programs used for special effects, movie editing and audio editing, the algorithms will try to generate audiovisual equivalent of the initial memory represented by the EM signals.”

  “Go right ahead,” Frank said. At this point he just had to see this tried. Joe was still blanked out. Frank wasn’t sure he was even hearing all this.

  Friedrich started his proprietary software program. The screen went blank and then waves appeared fluctuating up and down.

  “The audio goes live first,” Friedrich said tapping a few keys. He turned the volume to the highest. There was noise of the static. Friedrich tapped a few more keys and static slowly died down.

  “The program is trying to calibrate and hone in on the discernible noise,” he said. They heard a “tap tap tap” noise and Frank was puzzled.

  Suddenly a loud gunshot and the audio died and the program stopped.

  “What the Hell!” Frank barked.

  “Holy…is that the noise from that dead boy’s brain?” Joe asked.

  “Technically the software program created those from his brain signals,” Friedrich said, “based on the closest match in the audio database, but you could say that’s how he would have heard it.”

  “But that is wrong, he would not have heard it,” Frank said, “We believe the killer used a silencer. Dead of night, no cars passing, open door, close by homes and no one heard a gunshot.”

  “Is that so?” Friedrich said.

  “What’s the speed of sound, like a little over 1000 feet per second,” Frank wondered aloud, “Joe, what is the speed of 0.45 caliber shot from a pistol?”

  “Frank, the distance was short enough that I would go with the muzzle velocity, I say 800 – 1000 feet per second for 0.45 calibers,” Joe said, “bullet and sound reaching almost the same time. Gunshot would not have registered in Adam’s ear.”

  “You mean, it would not have been processed by his Auditory Cortex,” Friedrich said. “Let me try to add in the memory visuals now,” he said and then entered a few more commands on his keyboard. “This man was shot through the head and died instantly?” he asked.

  “Dead before he even hit the ground. You can see the hole yourself,” Frank said.

  Friedrich then turned to Frank and said, “I am afraid if you want to extract the memories of his murder I am going to have to make a small incision in his brain, actually two incisions.”

  “What? No the brain can’t be damaged,” Frank said.

  “The brain is already dead Frank,” Joe said.

  “Your friend is right,” Friedrich added, “Anyhow, I need to reach Thalamus.”

  “I vaguely remember Dr. Evans sometimes using that term…” Frank said.

  “It is sort of a main junction for the nerve signals going to the brain from the body,” Friedrich said, “it will further pass them on to the rest of the brain for processing but in case of this man, what he saw would not have had time to be passed on before he died. It would be still stuck in his Thalamus.”

  “Why the incisions?” Frank asked.

  “Thalamus is deep inside the brain, and has two parts like twins,” Friedrich said, “hence two incisions.”

  “Go ahead then, but be careful,” Frank said.

  Friedrich was already on it. He picked up a long and narrow needle and made two deep insertions in Adam’s brain. He picked out a couple of narrow wires with micro electrodes and guided both of them through the incisions. He connected these wires to the other wires. Then he started up his software again and a few minutes later stepped back to stand along with Frank and Joe as they all stared at the screen.

  “The visuals are starting combined with the audio,” Friedrich said, “we should get last few seconds of his life.”

  They watched the blank screen quietly then it came to life showing the trailer door in reddish hue. Frank jumped from bewilderment and Joe’s jaw dropped to the ground.

  “Frank, that’s the door I took out, holy…” Joe exclaimed.

  Frank looked at Friedrich who was grinning with pride at his accomplishment.

  Frank turned to look at the screen again and they heard the “tap tap tap” sound from earlier. Apparently, it was Adam’s footsteps walking towards the door but as they were looking from his perspective all they saw was the trailer door.

  “The color is redshifted. If I reduce the numbers for Red in my algorithm, it should be fine,” Friedrich said moving towards his
computer, but Frank grabbed his arm.

  “Stop, let it play out.”

  As they watched, suddenly the door flung open, a figure dressed in all black with a black ski hat took a step forward, his hand rapidly came up in the view holding a pistol with a silencer. The next moment, they heard the same loud gunshot, and then they saw the hitman’s finger squeeze the trigger and a muted flash of the muzzle blast.

  The screen went blank the next moment just as all three of them had jumped back with shock.

  They stared at the screen for a few moments not believing their eyes. Even Friedrich could not believe he had managed to make it work.

  “This is some scary stuff,” Joe said.

  “This can’t go out beyond this room,” Frank turned to Friedrich, “Can you rewind it please, in slow motion, and stop at the assassin’s entry.”

  Friedrich walked over to the computer, reduced the redshift and started the video again in slow motion. This time when the black clad figure stepped into the view he hit a key to pause the program.

  The face was grainy and could not be made out. Frank looked at it intently then scratched his chin.

  “I think I have seen that man?” Frank said in deep thought.

  “Where?” both of them asked.

  “In Afghanistan,” Frank said, “Not sure where or when exactly. He wasn’t a soldier, maybe a contractor, a diplomat or a spy. I will have to think about him,” Frank looked up, “go ahead Herr Friedrich, play in slow motion.”

  Once again they watched the scene of the pistol being raised, a gunshot and the muted flash of the silencer. The screen went black again.

  “Frank that shot rang out before the flash,” Joe said.

  “An error in your program,” Frank said, “and there is a silencer to boot.”

  “Detective Frank, I do know what a silencer is,” Friedrich said, “I have never fired a gun or held one, but I have seen movies, and I have an imagination and that is exactly what the problem is here, imagination.”