Final Notice, page 6
“When was the last time you saw Quentin … I mean the last time before you examined him after his death?”
Tapping some keys on his computer and looking at the screen, … “Sorry, but this computer stuff is all new to me. Emails, patient records. All very complicated. Let’s see … exactly two months ago. In fact, he was due for a routine visit next week.” Looking at his screen again, “Hmm, I forgot to mention the watch.”
“Watch?” Zoe asked as she tried to keep calm.
“Yes. As part of a field test, I had received a new watch prototype to pass along to a patient – it monitors vital signs, I think. Quentin enjoyed technology so I gave it to him to try out. It’s supposed to be the latest and greatest but I’m still in the analog age, I’m afraid.”
“Could the watch, or the information it fed back, have influenced Quentin’s behavior?”
“I don’t know, but I remember now. The watch had just come in and it was still on my desk unopened when Quentin came in for his appointment. I had read the cover letter and, knowing he liked new technical things, I just gave him the box with the watch in it. I assumed it had documentation inside. I don’t even remember the name of the company. I don’t put much faith into all these new gadgets, but I knew Quentin did.”
Zoe jotted down a note and asked, “Does VT2 ring a bell?”
“No.”
“Are you aware that Quentin had two guns?”
“I knew he had one, that’s right here in his file, but it was there before legislation was passed that prevents us from asking that question anymore, so I wouldn’t know about a second one unless he volunteered that info.”
“He bought a second gun two months ago. He didn’t mention it?”
“No. Do you think there’s a connection between that purchase and the shooting?”
“I don’t know. It just seems odd. Dr. Feldman, thank you for your time. I’ll let you get back to your patients. If you think of anything else, please give me a call.”
“Sure thing. Good-bye”
Zoe left thinking that she may have made a bit of progress but there were still so many questions. But now she had some hard evidence that may answer some of them and give her some working leads.
Checking for messages, Zoe saw that Sharon Moore had left a voicemail with the date when her husband had the altercation at KwikServe. Looking in her notebook, she called the number of the Joplin Avenue KwikServe store and was put through to the manager.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Reynolds, my name is Zoe Brouet, Special Agent for the FBI, and I’m looking into the recent shooting of one of your cashiers, Stephen Kinsead.”
“Good afternoon, Ma’am. How can I help you?”
“Can you tell me who was working the cashier position on the afternoon of November 10th?”
“I should be able to. Just a moment.” Zoe heard the sound of clicking keys. “Rhyana that’s R-H-Y-A-N-A Adams and Stephen Kinsead. Both were on duty from 3:00 to 9:00 PM.”
“Thank you”, Zoe replied, trying to tone down her excitement. “That’s all I need. Bye for now.”
Zoe thought, “This is a link but what exactly does it mean? They had a history, but it would be pretty unusual for someone to blow someone away for a simple angry encounter, and Moore didn’t have a history of aggression. There’s something else we don’t know. Let’s see if the lab can pry something out of these things,” glancing at the evidence bags with the watch and iPhone. “In the meantime, I need to get back to the office, write up my reports and fly out to San Diego.”
***
San Diego, California. Zoe rang the bell at Stan Mason’s townhouse in the Chula Vista suburb of San Diego. Stan answered and let her into his ground floor living room. Zoe had a single purpose for this trip, and she was pleased to see the VT2 watch and iPhone sitting on the coffee table, when Stan invited her to have a seat on one of his modern, but surprisingly comfortable, chairs.
“Here is the watch and iPhone. As I mentioned on the phone, I was surprised to find them amongst my dad’s possessions and I’m even more surprised that you think they may be a clue as to why he did what he did.”
Zoe pulled the watch and phone closer and looked at the watch to verify it was a VT2. “We’re not entirely sure yet but after we analyze the watch and associated app, it may help our understanding into what triggered your father to do something so out of character.”
Zoe asked if Stan had any additional thoughts since his interview with the Tucson police. He hadn’t, but Zoe now had two matching possessions of the two killers. She hoped that her techies could find something in common with the two VT2’s that would give them some insight into what triggered violent reactions in what appeared to be normal, non-violent people. She gave Stan a receipt for the items and returned to San Diego International Airport.
***
CHAPTER 7 – DINNER & GUNS
Pasadena, California. As Trudi and Vince were getting ready to leave for the Khan’s, Vince asked, “I wonder how they feel about the talk and suggestions about banning Muslims from entering the country? Would it be rude to ask them?”
“I don’t think so. They’re a poster family for why immigration is good.”
“I’ll say. They’re nothing short of laudable Americans and their kids, wow! Talk about success stories!”
“You like them because Alma cooks that amazing lamb dish,”
Trudi joked.
“Yeah, but she tempers my affection by thrashing me in ping pong! Maybe I’ll feign an injury if she asks me to play.”
“She actually likes playing with you because you give her a good game. And she actually doesn’t slaughter you as much as very consistently beats you.”
“Like, every time!”
The Khans had immigrated to the USA when Ahmed secured a position with CalTech Labs. He had been a computer engineer doing things that nobody outside of the (very) high tech community would ever understand, and now he was a department head. Alma was a nurse by profession but before she could get qualified in the US, she became pregnant with the first of their two children. Their son, Aziz, was currently finishing up a post-graduate degree at Stanford, and had already been accepted at Google, when he graduated. Their daughter, Fatima, graduated from the US Naval Academy and was a Navy pilot.
“Well, we better get moving if we don’t want to be late. And don’t forget the wine.” The Khans didn’t drink but welcomed them to bring something if they wanted.
They arrived a few minutes late and when Ahmed opened the door, Vince gave a sigh of pleasure as he breathed in the mouth-watering aroma of Alma’s lamb dish.
“Trudi, Vince, welcome!” Ahmed greeted them warmly, giving Trudi a hug and Vince a bro-shake. How are you two? It’s been too long!”
Trudi replied, “I know. How can retired people be so busy?”
Vince added, “Was it the Anderson’s Christmas party when we saw you both last?”
Ahmed thought and replied, “I think you’re right.”
“How have you two been, and how are Fatima and Aziz?” Trudi asked.
“Alma and I are fine, and the kids are both doing very well, but come on in. We’ve invited the Martinezes, too.”
Trudi and Vince were pleased that Rueben and Doris Martinez were there and their enthusiasm for the occasion raised even a few more notches. They had been introduced to them through the Khans and they were a warm and very down to earth couple. Rueben’s experiences as a police officer were always interesting conversation points.
Ahmed led them into the living room as Rueben and Doris rose to greet them.
Trudi stepped forward and gave Doris a hug and kiss on the cheek as Vince gave Rueben a hearty greeting, before switching partners for polite but warm hugs.
“Is Alma slaving away in the kitchen?” Trudi asked. When Rueben confirmed her guess, Trudi grabbed Doris’ hand and said, “Let’s go invade her space.”
Ahmed asked Vince if he’d like something to drink, “Some water, apple or orange juice or shall I open your wine.”
“Or a beer?” added Rueben.
Vince noticed that there was a glass of beer where Rueben had been sitting and assumed he had brought that. “A glass of wine. Thanks, Ahmed,” he said, as Ahmed disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
“How have you been, Vince? Retirement agreeing with you?”
“I’m surviving it. Miles helps keep me fit and on schedule, Trudi watches my weight, and I’ve been re-immersing myself into technology with a new toy from Apple.”
“A toy? Literally?”
“No. Not literally,” chuckled Vince. “No, after a lifetime of using Windows machines and software, I bought a Mac and both Trudi and I are having fun with it. In fact, I may have to get Trudi one of her own, or an iPad, we’re both using it so much.”
“Boy, when they began introducing computers into the department, there wasn’t much enjoyment going about.”
“That was a long time ago and they weren’t any fun then, even for work. The new ones, although I can only speak for the Apple machines now, are really very user friendly and intuitive. And so fast! I can recall my old machine taking so long I could go get a cup of coffee … from Starbucks!”
“Yeah, and that was when the closest Starbucks was eight blocks away! But everything was being re-invented at the Force at the same time. The computers allowed us to change our entire process, create and change existing forms, and learn what had been a foreign language, all at once. It did get better, and in time, easier.”
Ahmed returned with a glass of wine, followed by the ladies. Vince greeted Alma with polite affection and gushed, “Alma, it smells wonderful. Is it your lamb recipe?”
“Yes, and I won’t even make you play ping pong for it tonight!”
“Whew!” Vince parried.
Doris turned to Rueben. “The lamb recipe is from her family who have a famous restaurant in Pakistan called Salloos. There’s one in London, too.”
Alma added, “A meal at the one in London will cost almost 20 times as much as the one in Lahore. Probably safer though,” she smiled.
Rueben replied, “I agree with Vince. It smells delicious!”
To which Alma replied, “It’s ready now, so why don’t we go to the dining room and see if you like it.”
They did, and Alma basked in the warm glow of compliments.
***
They had finished their dinner, followed by mango kulfi, and were just sipping their coffees, when Vince asked the question he had mentioned to Trudi earlier.
“I hope this isn’t too awkward, but we consider you good friends and we were hurt and embarrassed by the talk that Muslims might be banned from entering the country. We think it’s awful, but I can only imagine how you must feel about it!”
Ahmed spoke first, “I wish I could slough it off and say, ‘consider the source,’ but that sentiment is coming from a much broader number of people, which has me concerned. It may be my imagination, but it feels like people are looking at me differently, in a wary and suspicious way. Not even surreptitiously.”
Rueben chimed in, “Well, I’m not Muslim, but I’m the other group that’s being vilified. I have definitely seen a difference since I’ve taken off the uniform. And it’s like you said, Ahmed ... people look at me as if to say, ‘I’m watching you.’ ”
Vince asked Rueben, “Are you hearing anything from your ex-department colleagues about how, if at all, the talk has morphed into incidents?”
Alma, eyes down, interjected. “I saw something yesterday at the store. A Muslim woman wearing a hijab was checking out ahead of me in the same line, and although I didn’t see or hear what caused it, the cashier shouted at her and told her to ‘Go back to where she came from.’ I left the line, pretending to have forgotten to get something, and returned to a different line. I was scared.”
Sympathetically, Ahmed said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You would have gone down there and made it worse.” “But the cashier shouldn’t get away with that.”
Rueben said, “You asked about incidents, and yes, they are on the rise. Small ones like what Alma saw and bigger ones, too. And I’m not saying small means unimportant, but my friends on the force tell me they are seeing physical incidents, property damage and even shootings. Someone shot a man the other day because they thought he was stealing from a K-Mart. He wasn’t stealing but he was guilty of being of Mexican descent.”
“At CalTech, most of us are immigrants of some sort, mostly with darker skin, so it’s not an issue there; but once we leave the lab, it’s open season. In fact, Rueben, I wanted to ask your opinion on having a gun.” Vince perked up at Ahmed’s question as Rueben replied.
“Are you serious? Hmmm. OK, but this is my opinion and not what a nationwide survey of police think. I’ve carried a gun most of my life now. Fortunately, I never had to use it, but if I had, I was well trained, and except for the last ten years, I really didn’t assume that everyone had a gun, unless a report came in that a suspect was armed. That change in assumption has created – again, this is my opinion – a change in the way police go about our jobs and interact with people. We now assume everyone is armed and this escalates the interaction. Some of us are better than others in trying to keep emotions low, but when you are on high alert to keep from getting shot, mistakes happen, as we’ve seen, over and over in the news.
“But let’s be clear, it’s not just racial incidents that are increasing. Violent crime in general is increasing. Break-ins, senseless beatings, and shootings are on the rise. So, even if I hadn’t been a cop, I would want to have a decent chance to protect my wife and family, and perhaps because I was a cop and am comfortable and trained in handling a gun, I have one.”
“Are you carrying now?” asked Ahmed, smiling at his own use of jargon.
“Yes.” And when everyone looked at him to see if they could see it, he added, “It’s in my jacket over there,” pointing to the windbreaker on a chair.
Vince asked, “If I wanted to get a gun, what kind of training should I get?”
Trudi, surprised, said, “Are you really thinking about getting one?”
“It’s just a hypothetical question.”
Rueben replied to Vince’s question calmly. “OK, but before you even think about training, I want you both,” looking at Ahmed as well, “to think about something else: If you have a gun, and we’re talking about protection, not hunting, you need to be very clear that if the time ever comes ... that you are prepared to shoot someone. Simply waving a gun without the will to use it can cause a situation to escalate beyond what it might have been.”
“That’s a very good question. Trudi and I need to consider that before we decide if we should go ahead.”
Trudi shot Vince a quick disapproving glance.
“As for training,” Rueben continued, “I’m glad you said ‘should’ instead of ‘need.’ It’s actually embarrassing because you don’t ‘need’ any training to buy a gun; you just have to have an HSC, Handgun Safety Certificate. That involves answering 75% of 30 questions correctly. Getting a concealed carry permit in California is pretty difficult, although you’d be amazed at how often that detail is flouted, even by otherwise law-abiding citizens.”
Vince remarked, “Ergo your assumption that everyone is armed.”
“Exactly, although it’s a fact that concealed carrying is not as prevalent in California as in states that routinely allow it. So, an assumption that everyone is armed, at least in California, is wrong and may lead us to overreact.
“But getting back to your question about training – shooting itself isn’t that hard, although it takes a lot of time and practice to be a marksman. But we’re talking self-defense, with a handgun, and typically at short range, so being a crack shot isn’t the goal.”
Trudi asked, “What is the goal?”
“First of all, safety. Safety for the shooter and for those around him that he or she doesn’t want to shoot.” This evoked some chuckles from the group, but Rueben went on. “You’d be surprised at how often innocent people are shot when a ‘good guy,’ even an experienced gun owner, starts shooting. There is always a risk that your shot will miss, just graze your target, or even ricochet, and the bullet continues and hits someone else. Experienced shooters take this into account and often will not take a shot if there’s a risk of hitting someone other than the intended target.”
Alma added, “I read about someone accidentally shooting a person in an apartment next door when the bullet went through a wall.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. You can get beginner’s training for two hours. Guns are pretty simple to operate. That’s why they give them to cops,” he said as he laughed. “But seriously, the hardest thing to do is shoot under pressure, and if there’s a break-in and someone has a gun, believe me, there’s pressure. Worse than the difference between shooting baskets on your own or shooting baskets with a 7-footer waving his arms in your face.”
