Tune In To Tonight's Episode

by: Dennis R. Humphreys

“Come on, we just got a call. There's been a homicide over on Park,” Detective Maury Schaeffer told his partner. “Let's go. The husband bludgeoned the whole family with a baseball bat.”

“That's odd. They just had a woman use a pipe late yesterday on her family. The oldest boy escaped. That's only about ten miles away in Gary's precinct,” Tyson Phillips observed. “It was all over the news last night.”

“What do they want to do now, outlaw baseball bats?” the lead detective commented, being critical.

The two officers pulled out front of the middle-class neighborhood, where a few other police cars were parked, the coroner's SUV and an ambulance. Neighbors were standing around outside, mostly women, with their arms crossed making comments about the problems with the dead couple's marriage. Everyone was an expert at times like these and of course no one had problems of their own.

Schaeffer lifted the yellow tap barrier and walked under it. Tyson did the same. One of the officers greeted the second detective.

“Hey Chicken Man!” he said loudly and chuckling.

“You know I told you that story in confidence. Everybody has a comment now when they see me,” Tyson chastised his partner.

“Hey, you shouldn't have told me then. I thought it was funny... your mother naming you after a chicken distributor because she ate so much of it when she was pregnant with you!” Shaeffer laughed. “It's a good thing she didn't eat a lot of Bumble Bee Tuna, I'd be calling you Bumbles.”

“Yeah, just fucking make fun. Just wait when I get something on you,” Phillips warned.

They walked into the home. It was bloody. The wife's body was on the floor headed for the hallway, it looked like, to get away, when he must have cracked the bat over the back of her skull.

The television was still on but the sound turned off.

“Did someone turn the TV on or was it like this when the police came?” Schaeffer asked.

“We turned the sound off but other than that no one touched it,” a police officer responded.

The lead detective put on a pair of latex gloves to avoid destroying evidence and picked up the remote to check the channel the couple had been watching.

“Nice television... brand new. I don't recognize the brand though... Merctech? This happened, what time last night?” Schaeffer asked.

“I'll go talk with the neighbors, “Tyson suggested and left the house.

“Around midnight, as far as we can tell,” the officer answered. “Yeah, the box the TV came in is still in the kitchen. Looks like they just hung it.”

The lead detective went to the back and saw the bodies of two children there covered. He opened the body bags and looked... pretty much the same thing. The husband was handcuffed and sitting on the bed, crying. The detective looked at him and decided he wasn't in any condition to talk. He'd catch up with later at the precinct. They needed to get him down there and book him.

“You read him his rights?” Schaeffer asked qs always. When he was younger, he didn't bother to ask and a couple of perfs walked because of some sloppy police work. A good defense attorney loved stuff like that, especially if he could show his superiority and the stupidity of law enforcement.

Everything else in the place looked good... nothing unusual. Nothing was out of place like you normally see with this kind of mayhem.

“Who were these people anyway?” the detective asked the officers in the living room. A younger one came forward.

“Well, Jim Chappino, worked in a large bakery making bread. His wife, Regina was a key input person at the St Mary's Hospital. The kids, Phillip, age 10 and Lucinda age 8 were students at the Holy Rosary School,” the officer informed the detective.

“This looks like pretty much of a standard family murder things we have here,” the detective announced.

“Yeah, but the husband say he doesn't remember a thing of what happened. In fact, he was the one that called 911 this morning when he woke up,” the young officer informed the detective.

“Hmmm... sounds like he's getting ready to plead insanity,” Schaeffer commented.

“I don't think so. I've only been on the force a couple of years, but he looks pretty legit and pretty upset,” the officer told him.

“OK... thanks,” the detective said.

Maury went into the living room and looked around again, looking at the television. It was one of those new Smart TVs. Why would anyone get one of those? Maury understood you could look both ways on those things with the fiber optic technology they used. He swore if his wife ever got one of those things, he'd stop wearing any clothes and he'd make sure he bent over in front of the screen all the time to pick something he dropped off the floor.

The detective walked into the kitchen and looked at the box and peeled off the shipping label just for 'shits and giggles' is what he always said. He walked outside to the garbage, but the cans were empty. It must have just been picked up that morning. They never even got the empty box out to the trash.

Satisfied there was nothing else to see he walked back through the home and out the front door where he met his partner still talking to a couple of neighbors. When Tyson saw his partner, he joined him.

“Anything?” Maury asked Tyson.

“ Not much. Nobody heard anything until they heard the guy screaming this morning, about the time his 911 call went through.. Mrs. Chappino was bragging to the neighbors when she got home from work late morning she had a delivery notice on that television that's in there. Evidently they won it and she didn't remember ever entering a contest,” Tyson filled him in.

“You're right... it's not much,” he answered as they went to the car.

“Oh... I don't think this anything but they both belong to some political organization, 'Citizens for the Constitution'. They were pretty active with it trying to more strongly support the Constitution as it was written and especially the police,” Tyson elaborated.

“My kind of people,” Shaeffer replied.

Jim Chappino was a mess in the interrogation room. He kept repeating he had no idea of what happened. The last thing he remembered was hanging the new television on the wall and sitting down with his wife to watch their favorite Tuesday night shows. He took the remote and set the channel and must of fallen asleep in his recliner because he didn't remember watching anything. He awoke in the morning lying in bed wondering where his wife was. When he went into the other room and saw her body he lost it. Then he found his two children. He wasn't able to contain himself enough to call 911 until maybe a half hour later. Neighbors heard him and wondered what was happening but no one went to see.

The two detectives interrogated him awhile but couldn't get anything worthwhile out of him. Finally, before they left the room Maury made a suggestion.

“Just for shits and giggles... let's get blood samples from you,” he informed the husband, "I'll get forensics on it right away in case there's anything there it doesn't dissipate.”

“You think it's drugs?” Tyson asked.

“I don't know but I don't want to rule anything out. Call the other detectives on that other case you said was ten miles away. See what they have just for the hell of it. I don't think you'll get anything but something's just gnawing in my crawl... maybe I've been in thei job too long,” the detective asserted.

“Maybe it's that sixth sense I've yet to develop,” the younger detective asserted. He only had five years as a detective while his partner had twenty. After a while you've seen enough of this stuff. Sometimes you don't even have to think hard about it. Your get tells you the logic, even as obscure as it might be.

Tyson Phillips might not have been around a long enough time yet to develop that sixth sense yet but he was around long enough to see it in others and trust their instincts. Older detectives and cops, even some of the younger ones developed it to the point where they could go into a situations, ask several key questions of a number of people and automatically know who did it and what happened. People on the outside, might say in some cases, it was a bias but not when you're right. It's like learning complex math algorithms and then looking at complex problems day in and day out. Suddenly a kid can look at a complex problem and instantaneously come up with the answer. Something in the brain gets rewired the way you train it. A lot of autistic kids seem to be that way. Their brains were already wired for complex problems. Tyson often thought about that because of his sister's kid, who was autistic, and often he thought there wasn't a problem with the kid, it was the problem with the rest of society. He even wondered if maybe his nephew represented the new wave for humanity, especially since it was increasing rapidly among all populations and the rest of these so called learned experts were chastising these kids for it when it was a natural phenomena that would one day leave the rest of us in the dust.

“Hey, Maury... I spoke with Jensen, the lead detective on the other case. Two things are interesting. That couple just won the same make and model of television as our perf. And they belonged to the same group, 'Citizens for the Constitution'. I don't know if they knew each other though, because there's about five hundred i the group locally,' Tyson reported feeling good asbout what he found.

“Really? Now doesn't that make the little hair I have on my head stand up!” Maury exclaimed pushing himself back in his chair, behind his desk. “Let's get back out there to the murder scene. I want out people to take a look at that television and the remote. We'll bag the remote and get a couple of the guys to pull that television off the wall for analysis. We'll pick up the shipping container as well,” he told his partner his plan.

“Are you sure you're not just being paranoid? You don't like Smart TVs anyway” Tyson suggested.

“It's not I don't like them... I don't trust them or more so, the people behind them,” Maury commented.

The next day the head of forensics made an appearance at the Maury's desk which faced Tyson's in the detective area of the precinct. Maury looked up when he saw him approacching and saw the look on his face.

“OK... you've got something. What's up?” the older detective asked.

“Some pretty nasty stuff. First the blood test came back on Jim Chappino... he had high levels of scopolamine in his blood,” so he may not be lying about not remembering anything.

“Sco...what?” Maury asked. Tyson became very interested because he had reports on the nasty stuff the CIA had worked with for interrogation purposes back in the middle of the twentieth century.

“Scopolamine. It's what they call the voodoo drug natives used for years in their ceremonies and to control their subjects. The CIA used it quite a lot in the 1950s and 60s for mind control. There were some assassinations committed using the stuff. Some of their FOIA reports showed how effective it was. The used one woman and her best friend as guinea pigs. The administered the stuff to the one woman who was deathly afraid of guns and was extremely religious. They gave her a gun after administering her a dose and told her to shoot her friend. Without hesitation, she did and killed her. When she went to sleep and woke up she had no memory of the event. If you remember, Sirhan Sirhan, who shot Robert Kennedy in the 60s had the same reaction. He never had a memory of shooting the Attorney General. They supposedly found scapalomine in his blood but then he was assassinated as well so the whole thing was buried along with his body. And that happened at the height of scapalomine's use,” the forensic expert relayed.

“This just gets more interesting...” Maury concluded. “What else?”

“Well, we ran tests on the remote. The on/off button released a dose of scopolamine onto the the person with the remote. When you pressed on the button it released a dose from a small tube inside of the remote where it was absorbed through the skin. You only have to deliver the scapalomine through ingestion, maybe in powder form through the air, or it can be absorbed effectively through the skin,” the man elaborated.

“How about the television? I never heard of the make before,” Maury mentioned to the scientist.

“Neither has anyone else and there isn't a listing for it either, but it appears like any other Smart TV there is. It has four internal video cameras that can basically watch you if you have a receiver at the other end,” Alan, the head of forensics told him.

“And how do you do that?" Maury asked.

“The only thing you need is the TVs address, like and ISP address on a computer and a computer to access it using the Internet. I understand it's that simple,” Alan explained.

“And another good reason not to trust any of this new tech stuff coming out... and it's all supposed to make our lives better...yeah, right. Give me some other load of bullshit,” the detective made his feelings clear. “Tyson get hold of those other detectives again and tell them what we have and what to look for. If they confirm what we have we've got half our jobs done.”

“Well, they confirmed with me this morning they have what we have,” Tyson told his senior partner as he placed a cup of coffee in front of him and sat down.

“OK, we need to find out how manufactures that television. These people are 'winning' these things in contests they don't remembering entering so they're getting them for this purpose that they're intended. Who's going to turn down a free big screen, state-of-the-art television?” Maury questioned.

“If they're conditioning people to kill, I suppose if they use a gun the radicals wanting gun control could politically hang on to that,” Tyson surmised.

“Oh sure, and they will but I think it's simpler than that. I saw where this group these people belong to are gaining momentum and lots of it in this political clime. I think it may be a scare tactic or more to stop these people from having any political clout,” Maury figured, after all it wouldn't be the first-time scare tactics were used.

These kinds of tactics had been used for years against particular groups that had the potential of blocking certain political desires. Look what happened after the Civil War. Those that instigated it to keep their way of life down south lost but their first stgep in their agenda was to kill Abraham Lincoln, the biggest obstacle in their agenda. Then the began chain gangs to continue a kind of legal slavery and maintain their way of life to a considerable degree. Then so they could avoid losing political elections they started the KKK in an attempt to intimidate anyone interfering with their plans. During the rise of unions, dirty money exchanged hands but the flow was kept going through intimidation by union leaders and organized crime. If you didn't join and pay the required dues, your home could be visited during the night with bat wielding ruffians who thought nothing of delivering, many times, a lethal blow to the side of your skull. The only difference now were the hi-tech tactics that were being used where the perpetrators might remain anonymous or at the very best be let go under the lead of a good defense attorney. But then the same tactics could be employed against the prosecutor to be sloppy enough to cause a mistrial. It took a brave person, one with impeccable morals and strength to fight these people today just as the founding fathers had when they created this country. Maury felt the very values that set forth were being attacked by the same type of people as in the past and they were slowly eroding what was the best system there was. It wasn't perfect because the least common denominator, which were the people, were imperfect, but it was and is the best thing going.

“Where is this group headquartered? Probably D.C., that's where most of them are, because of the money and the lobbyists,” Maury guessed and Tyson did a search quickly on his computer.

“Yeah... they're actually on Pennsylvania avenue, right down the street from the White house.

“That's about an hour or more away. Let's get down there and talk to someone about alerting all their people about these televisions. If anyone wins some contest and gets a free TV, we need to know. Is there some way we can hook into one of these televisions that if someone comes in with a message to kill their loved ones we can find where it's coming from?” Maury reasoned to his partner.

“I don't see why not. There's software the security groups use to tell when they're being hacked and where it's originating from,” Tyson relayed.

“Hey, you guys have something going on with the 'Citizens for the Constitution' don't you? I thought I saw something in your reports about it and the other precinct,” Wendell Pierce, the captain asked as he flipped the television on in the room to listen to some politician talking. “Listen to this.”

“... these 'Citizens for the Constitution' are a far-right extremist group. We had two complete families killed by a family member, including the kids. We've had reports of five more in other parts of the country. I have it on good authority that three of the murders included guns... another reason for outlawing all guns in this country. They're a dangerous bunch and I think they show how far they are prepared to go. They're a deranged lot I think need to be condemned and forced to disassemble before any more of these heinous crimes happen...” congressman Al Whitlock, from Wisconsin touted.

“If they're that crazy to begin with how is disbanding the group going to help?” asked Tyson before even Maury could open his mouth.

“My sentiments exactly,” Maury added. “So, we know this is happening elsewhere too. At least they answered that for us before we down to D.C. But how did they know there were five more elsewhere so quickly? Makes you wonder, doesn't it?”

The trip to Pennsylvania avenue was a typical trip driving through D.C., lot of traffic and Maury hated the traffic circles. You'd normally miss your first turn in one even using a GPS because no one would let you pull over to make it. When you finally did it, seemed the GPS was not always much help in forewarning you of your turn. Finally, they managed to park in front of the place. They had called ahead to make sure the director would be there when they stopped.

“Yeah... we called earlier to see the director. I'm Detective Maury Shaeffer, this is my associate Detective Tyson Phillips,” Maury explained to the young woman at the front desk.

“Like the chicken?” she asked.

“Exactly!” Maury answered after getting a kick in the ankle from the other detective.

“You ass hole. You told her to say that” Tyson accused his partner who was snickering then.

“No, I didn't” Maury defended himself but thought it was hilarious thast she was the one mentioned it since Tyson commented she was really cute. Now he probably thought she wasn't as good looking as he thought. It was one of those cognitive dissonant things the police psychiatrist was always talking about in their meetings, trying to get all the officers into the minds of some of the criminals, and how they thought.

“Detectives Schaeffer and Phillips... I'm Lawrence Adams, the director. I'm glad you came. Especially after the congressman from Wisconsin had his press conference earlier. Those guys are never on top of things unless they perpetrate them. I'm not a conspiratorialist mind you but it does give me cause,” the director said motioning them into his office.

“Call me what you want, a son-of-a-bitch... an asshole... whatever, it still gives me reason to think,” Maury added as he took his seat, and the director closed the door.

“Did you know anything about this whole TV contest bit before today?” Tyson asked after he waited for the director to sit down.

“No, I didn't that's why when I saw the press conference, I was so surprised. I called out to the other chapters since then and found out he was right about the number in several other cities where our chapters are,” the director said taking a sip from his cup of coffee.

He motioned to the cup to see if the detectives wanted a cup and they both said yes so, he got up and walked to his door and opened it to ask the girl to get two cups for the officers. When he op0ened the door the young girl almost feel into the room and was visibly embarrassed as she straightened up, pretending she stumbled or some such nonsense. The detectives just looked at each other and Maury raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry about that gentleman,” the director excused himself for the interruption as he went back to his seat.

“No problem... I was going to ask you how someone could get hold of a list of your members top ship put these televisions to, but I think that just answered my question,” Maury told the director.

Adams acted surprised not having even thought of it until the detective mentioned it.

“Really? Patti's been with me for three years now. I've never questioned her loyalty.

“Sometimes the answer stares us right in the face but we're too close to it to see,” Maury told him, and Tyson agreed, especially if you're young and cute. It's easy not to look past that.

“Excuse me gentlemen. Let me see what's taking her. The coffee was right there, she should have gotten two clean cups and brought it in by now,” Adams told the men as he got back up to go the the other room.

Adams opened the door to an empty room.

“Patti? Patti?” the director called out and then looked back at the detectives. “I'm afraid Patti is gone and so are her things.”

“That answers that. Don't worry about the coffee Larry. Can we have a list of your people? And can you get warnings out to everyone about these televisions? We want to look at them all. It's especially important not to handle the remotes. They're rigged to deliver some mind control substance,” Maury warned the director.

“Not a problem, let me make copies of our master list with addresses and phone numbers. You're in luck though. My wife called before that broadcast all excited because we won a television. It's sitting at home as we speak,” the director informed the officers.

“OK, your secretary might warn them she might not. She might have just gotten out while the getting was good, but I'd like to set the television up in your place and bring in someone at the precinct that's a tech guru. I want to see where the signal comes from at the other end that makes people commit murder.

“Sure... let me get you the list and if you want, we can head to my place in Georgetown,” the director told law enforcement. “First, I'll put out an alert to all the other offices to inform their members to do the same about the computers. I hope that doesn't send up a red flag. Theyu might have hacked our system... my system.”

Maury had Tyson called ahead to the department's computer techie to meet them at the director's home in Georgetown. They wanted him to set up what he needed to in plenty of time to find out where the control was coming from. They set up the television on a larger TV stand instead of hanging it from the wall. They pointed it the length of the living room where the director could be seen sitting in his chair watching the set.

“Now. I guess they have as way of knowing when you turn this set on,” Maury assumed and told Adams as he looked over at Toni Denarro, the department computer geek, who shook her head yes. “So, what you're going to have to do is look like you're stoned. Move as little as possible. They'll figure you're under the influence of the scapa...stuff.”

“Scapalomine...” Tyson reminded his partner. “You just get as relaxed as possible otherwise they'll know you're not under.”

“We will know when they're looking when I get a signal. It's only going to take a few minutes to locate where it's coming from,” Toni told them.

“Oh, well this isn't going to be as bad as I thought,” Maury interjected. “We'll have to have you then go off screen when we say and maybe have your wife scream. You will be recording everything then?”

“Yeah. It might even be a subliminal message behind another broadcast so we can't really see it until I go through whatever he's watching at the time. Their subjects, once exposed to any mind control substance will be given suggestions which the subject will pick up in the unconscious,” Toni added while she watched her computer monitor. Now when I give you a signal everyone has to be quiet. Some noise is OK since this is an active family environment, just they know there's a woman here and two teenage sons. If anythjing looks suspicious they'll pull the plug,” she warned.

“Anything else?” Tyson asked.

“Stay behind me, this way. Those internal cameras can move some and see what's in the room. Again, if they say someone thast looks like a cop they'll probably pull the plug,” she added.

“Got it. Is that it?” Maury asked.

“No... Detective Phillips I keep getting images here of a chicken... does that mean anything to you?' Toni asked.

“You son-of-a-bitch, not you put her up to that,” Tyson accused Maury who was already laughing.

“Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa,” the detective answered. “Sorry Larry, that was an inside joke. You'd go nanna in this job if you didn't goof off once in a while.”

“If you're read turn on the television,” Toni directed.

Maury turned it on wearing his latex glove and placed the remote on the light table next to the chair.

“Now don't touch it,” he reminded the director as he jumped out of sight.

As soon as the television tuned into programming there was activity on the Toni's computer. Even Tyson could see the various activity that the television had also made contact at the other end with a computer. Toni watched as her system communicated through the television as the other computer and the television shared communications.

Toni became busy then on the keyboard punching in various code as information flowed vertically on her screen and she recorded everything. They looked over at the director who had become sullen and silent staring blankly at the screen doing a wonderful job of being under the influence of something.

After about twenty minutes the activity slowed and then stopped on the computer screen. The download of whatever they had from the other end was complete, but the video cameras were still watching. Toni motioned for the director to slowly get up and walk towards her and the hallway which would be off screen for any camera in the TV.

A minute later Maury had Mrs. Adams scream as if she feared something. When that happened the connection with the computer at the other end stopped. The television was no longer operating as a monitoring device, so Maury turned the television off.

“OK, you guys did good,” Maury congratulated the couple. The sons were with friends. “We'll bag this remote here and take it with us so nobody accidentally doses themselves.”

“Thanks officers. How long do you think it'll take to get to the bottom of this?” the director asked.

“I hope not long. Can you take a couple of days off and play dead? I won't put anything out to the press yet otherwise we'd have to set up an investigation here with ambulances and everything to be on the news. A lot of people are dead a few days before they're discovered. I just need them to think they were successful and buy us a little more time,” Maury advised.

“Sure... but how about our sons. They're not home yet,” he asked.

“Have them do the same and stay at a friend's house for a couple of days. I want no activity around here,” the detective directed.

“This thing that's going on seems to be only directed at members of your group. As long as they don't turn on those televisions there won't be any communication,” Toni admitted. “Hopefully these people will think they just didn't get them yet or didn't install them yet. After a couple of days though they'll probably get suspicious.”

“We have enough of the televisions and anymore that come in, to call it an orchestrated plot and not some hair brained conspiracy these people will probably cry, against you people. The remotes are all doctored. All we have to do is trace the communication back and find out who's behind this,” Maury assured them.

“As soon as you get something call me?” Maury informed Toni. I don't then shutting down things on us and starting somewhere else.”

It was early morning when the two detectives met up at the coffee machine at the precinct. They stood around talking when Toni walked in.

“I figured I'd find you guys down here. Why don't you stop by my office in the morning and get a cup of good coffee fresh every morning? At least you'd start the day off on a good note,” she invited them. “I finally pulled up something this morning so I came right down here.”

“Good,” Maury exclaimed as he reached for the paper Toni was handing him. “Maury looked at it. It's in Towson, Maryland. Great at least it isn't in California. The captain wouldn't want to foot the plane fare there. It's maybe an hour and a half away.”

“You're around the seat of power. Those people usually like to keep everything in their backyard to control. I figured it wouldn't be far away. Do you know where it's at There some apartments there of Joppa Road. I already looked. Berkley Lan is right off there,” she informed them.

“Good work Toni, thanks. I'll go tell the captain where we're going,” Maury told Tyson and Toni.

“Hey Toni, you've known Maury for a lot longer time than I have...” Tyson began feeling around.

“Eleven years since I've been here,” she responded.

“He gave me this hard time about my name ever since he found out why my parents named me Tyson. You have to have something on him I can get him back with some time,” Tyson I nquired.

'Well, there is one thing his wife calls him, and he hates. I overheard her call him 'cookie' one time on his squawk box, I guess it's her nick name for him in bed. He got pretty flustered when she said it and picked up the phone right away and gave her flack. He'll know I told you because I kidded him about it,” Toni told him.

“OK, let's get going,” Maury said as he came around the doorway.

“Hey, thanks Toni,” Tyson said.

Traffic was bad getting out of town, but then it was always bad anymore. Then when they hit the Glen Burnie area it was at a standstill with some accident. Tyson didn't acre, they got there when they got there but it always infuriated Maury. He'd sit in the car and fidget with the radio stations, staying on one for a few seconds and then switch like he was a connoisseur of music.

“Why don't you just put on talk radio and be done,” Tyson suggested.

“Now that's too annoying with the morons calling in,” Maury told him and then opted to turn the radio off.

“I guess that's one way to handle it,” Tyson told him. Most of the time Tyson never listend to the radio unless it was talk. He got tired of hearing the same tunes on the radio for six months at a time. Once one singer had a hit three others would produce something similar, so it was almost like you were in a continuous loop with a song.

“The GPS says we're fifteen miles away. I wonder who the sweetheart is behind this,” Maury fathomed.

“Well not the guy at this address. He's just the techie behind it hired by someone to do it. Someone with money is pulling the strings giving away all those big screen televisions. We don't even know who makes them yet,” Tyson warned.

“We have to get this guy first before they start back tracking. After here maybe we can find out who's having this stuff made and where,” Maury told his partner.

“Probably China. And it'll probably be hard to find any records there if at all,” Tyson suggested.

“Yeah, the only ones those people communicate with are the politicians because they get paid off with our money. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if it's not some crazy ass politician behind all this,” Maury started going off. You get him going on politicians, whether you lead him there or he accidentally went there himself, his tirade could go one for hours.,

“Considering who's being targeted here I have to agree... or someone with a lot of money who has a bunch behind one of them,” Tyson suggested.

“Listen we're close but I have to stop at this convenience store to get rid of some of this coffee and get some more,” Maury told his partner turning into a local convenience store.

The two detectives walked in together and Tyson picked up a pack of fig newton cookies plus two coffees. They both drank it black and strong. The best thing she could fine there was a Sumatran black, which he knew was strong.

When Maury returned Tyson alerted him, he already had the coffee.

“We are going in right away when we get there?” Tyson asked his partner.

“No let's take our time and watch the place first. We can drink our coffee. I'll see what floor this jokers on first in case he tries to run. He won't be running far from the second or third floor if it's that kind of apartment,” Maury surmised.

They found the place and parked out from on the far side of the lot. Tyson sat while Mary went to look at the mailboxes. Maury stood out like a cop so if the guy was nervous and saw him coming to the front of his section, he might take off just to play it safe. But it was a three story apartment building with a downstairs, so what were the chances? Soon Maury came back out the front door and slipped in behind the wheel.

“Everything's good. The guy's on the third floor,” Maury announced, picking his coffee up and sipping it. “Damn that's good.”

Tyson reached over with the opened pack of fig bars.

“Care for fig bar, Newton?” Tyson asked. Maury just gave him a side glance wondering why he called him Newton but let it go.

“Don't mind if I do. These things are habit forming to me. When I was a kid, my father never got any, by the time I found them. My mom would buy them at the grocery and hide them, so dad would get some but I always found them first, no matter where she hid them.

When they finished, they got out of the car and went to the building. They climbed the stairs to the third floor.

“At least you don't have to cover the back door,” Maury told his partner as they approached the front door and knocked. “Leonard Hopkins!... open the door, it's the police. We have some questions we have to ask you.”

It took a minute, but they could hear footsteps on the other side of the door. Maury automatically held his badge up to the peep hole in the door. Leonard unlatched the dead lock and the door know and slowly opened the door part way to look out.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” the man inside asked,

“Well unless you want your neighbor here to hear what we want to talk to you about, I suggest you let us in to ask them,” Maury suggested.

The man, maybe around twenty-four, opened the door and backed down the entrance hall like he was going to be shot.

“Listen we're investigating some homicides...” Maury began.

“I didn't kill anyone,” the man uttered nervously.

“No one accused you yet,” Maury replied. “Cool your heels.”

“Cooperate with us and you won't have any problems,” Tyson added.

“Are you threatening me?” Leonard asked.

“No one's threatening anyone, so I don't want to hear that shit. I'm Detective Shaeffer... this is my partner Detective Phillips. “There have a been a couple of homicides in the area and several outside the area. The one thing they have in common is the people that were killed won big screen Smart TVs. They got subliminal messages through them, and those messages were sent via the Internet to them from one location. Our people traced them back to here.”

“Are you saying the messages made them kill someone?” Leonard asked nervously.

“That's what we're saying. Who are you working for?” Maury asked as the kid seemed to start to come unglued.

“The only thing I can say I was asked to upload information to the address I'm given when the televisions go live. The addresses come by way of email. I get paid a thousand bucks for each site. I was told it was for marketing purposes to measure the response to particular programming. I don't even know what it says, it's all encrypted. The televisions are capable of decryption of the message. I'm supposed to stay on until the subject in front of the television goes off screen, then disconnect. It's the same message over and over again,” Leonard told the officers.

“How do you get paid?” Maury asked.

“Debit cards... they send me debit cards,” he told them.

“Debit cards? Crap... and you have no idea who sends them?” Tyson asked.

“No,” Leonard replied getting up to go to an end table nearby. He pulled out an envelope from the drawer and handed it to the lead detective. It was addressed to Leonard, in printed text with a Sharpie. There wasn't a return address and the one opened letter he had was postmarked Washington D.C.

“Do you have one of these debit cards on you?” Maury asked figuring it was a dead end.

“I have all of them. I kept them after I cashed them in for the money,” he said going back to the same drawer and bring back four cards. Maury immediately put them in a small baggie he had and put them into his pocket. “Did anyone but you handle these cards?”

“No,” he replied.

“You have no idea who or what group is behind all this? You don't have any contact with these people other than by email?” Maury inquired.

“There was an initial phone call asking me if I could do this and their offer to pay me and how. I told them it was a piece of cake and they told me I'd receive emails then and payment in the mail in the form of debit cards. I agreed. It was a nice amount of money for less than twenty minutes of work,” Leonard told him.

“And you didn't question it, or the legitimacy of it?” Tyson piped up in the conversation.

“Well, yeah. They told me it was for marketing purposes,” he answered.

“Everything's for marketing purposes,” Maury replied sufficiently annoyed by the stupidity of some people.

“When do you expect to hear from them again with another email?” Tyson asked.

“I don't know... maybe tonight. There's no fixed time,” the young man replied.

“OK we're going to be visiting you for a while. I'm going to have our associate come up here to trace the email when it comes in. Do you have the other emails with the addresses you uploaded this message to?” Maury asked.

“No, they told me to delete them after I was done,” Leonard informed him.

“And you didn't think anything odd was going on?” the detective reiterated in disbelief, shaking his head.

“No but I can do what you want to do and backtrack the email. It might not do any good though. There is software that can constantly change ISP addresses so you can't track things,” the young man told him.

“OK you may be redeeming yourself here, but I want to talk to our person and see what she has to say,” Maurey told him as he pulled out his phone to call Toni.

“HI Toni... yeah, we're here now. Listen, the guy here's willing to trace the emails for us that he got from whoever is behind this but says there's software that changes the ISP address on a regular basis and he might be able to find anything out for us,” Maury informed Toni.

“That's true but there is a way. The security agencies have software that can get around that. It might take a little longer, but it works,” she told Maury.

“Great... what are the chances we can get hold of that software to do this?” Maury asked.

“What if I told you I already had it on the computer here?” Toni enlightened the detective.

“Are you serious? I could give you a big kiss for that one,” the detective told her.

“My girlfriend would have a problem with that,” she replied to informing Maury of something he didn't know until that moment.

“I guess you need to come up here then. He could get another email tonight and he doesn't have any of the others on his system,” Maury told her.

“You don't have to be there and neither do I. If he's willing to cooperate and just need him to do a couple of things for me and I can access his computer at the same time he does. Unless you want to watch the magic,” Toni told him.

“We'll stay but let me turn him over to you and you can get things going. I want to make sure everything is... you know,” he spoke low then to Toni. “Here Leonard, it's Toni the person I was telling you about... you cooperate with her and let's put an end to this crap ASAP.”

And so within minutes everything was ready, but they weren't sure if there would even be an email. Both detectives sat on the sofa while Leonard worked at his computer programming.

“I'm going out to the car,” Tyson finally told his partner. “Those fig newtons are calling me.”

“Do you have any coffee around here, Leonard?” the detective asked.

“Just instant,” he answered him.

“Good enough. You have a pot to boil water?” Maury asked as he stood up to got to the kitchen.

“It's easier to use the microwave. Let me get everything for you,” Leonard offered and put everything out on the counter as Tyson walked back in the door.

Nothing happened that day or evening as both detectives went through many cups of coffee.

“At least this surveillance is inside and not out on a cold, rainy night,” Tyson commented.

“Yeah, we'd through twice as much coffee,” Maury replied taking another swallow, “this isn't the most exciting place to be anyway.”

Tyson reached over and offered his partner a fig bar about that time. He has gotten them earlier sand put them in his jacket pocket and then forgot them.

“Care for a fig bar, Newton?” he asked the officer. Maury took a double take again as he took one but didn't say anything about Tyson calling him Newton.

Tyson took one too and was busy eating it when Maury spoke to Leonard.

“Is it OK if we just hold up here on your sofa for the night in case something come in,” Maury asked the man.

“No, feel free. There's plenty of coffee. You're just like the cop shoes on televisions drinking ton of coffee all the time.” Leonard observed.

“Yeah, at Christmas we all get a fifty-pound bag,” he told him in a serious tone.

“Really! That's a lot of coffee,” Leonard answered, not being too smart about sarcastic replies.

Maury stood up to take his jacket off and relax. As he was folding it, he realized he had left evidence in his inside pocket.

“Shit I still have the remote from Adam's place. I put it in a baggy and stuffed into my inside pocket and forgot about it,” Maury complained to his partner.

“That's the third time this month you've done that. One of these days some wise ass defense attorney is going to get us on a technicality,” Tyson replied taking off his shoes and curling up at the one end of the couch.

The next day Tyson got up and made coffee for the both of them. The senior detective heard him and began moving around, sitting up and having a coughing fit. Maury went to the bathroom and washed out his mouth with water, the best he could do without a toothbrush.

When he came out of the bathroom, his coffee was waiting for him. He took it an savored it as the if it were the finest meal sitting before him. Tyson thrust the fig bars in front of him offering him one.

“How about breakfast? Care for a fig bar, Newton,” he asked the detective. This time he couldn't let it go as he took one.

“Why the fuck do you keep calling me Newton anyway?” Maury asked puzzled.

“Would you rather me call you, Cookie?” Tyson asked laughing.

“Listen you ass hole... who told you that. Was it Toni? If you breath one word of that to any of the other guys I'll be calling you dick head from now on,” Maury warned him as the signal on the computer indicated a new email.

They both got up to go over to where Leonard wandered form his bedroom.

“OK... this is what we were waiting for,” Leonard told them.

They watched as the email came in with it's thirteen-digit code. Leonard had to respond with 'acknowledged' otherwise the email would repeat every ten minutes until he did so.

The phone in Maury's pocked rang ten minutes later and he answered.

“OK traitor, what do you have?” Maury asked right off.

“Traitor? What do you mean?” Tony asked.

“You know full well what I mean... telling my partner about 'Cookie'” he answered her as she laughed at the other end.

“You won't believe the address I got here on the email. I got into the computer at the other end just to confirm things and I found all kinds of juicy stuff that's unusable to us unless you can get the computer under warrant,” Toni explained.

“Yeah... go ahead, who are we dealing with? Maury pushed.

“Congressman Al Whitlock from Wisconsin, the jerk that got on television the other day condemning that group for being radical,” Toni told them.

“What's the address of this computer site?” Maury asked Toni.

“It's three doors down from Laurence Adam's place... ah, Citizens for the Constitution?” she told him.

“Text me the address. I'll call to make sure this ass is going to be in there in a couple of hours,” Maury told her. “Come on Chicken Man we have to head back to downtown D.C. Thanks for your help, Leonard. We'll call if we need you.”

“I can't believe it's that fucking congressman!” Tyson commented as they pulled out of the parking lot.

“Oh, I do. If you asked me to guess, I would have said his name. It's always these loud-mouth politicians that complain about a problem and are part of it. My father always told me when I was a kid, 'Maury if you complain about a problem all the time and can never offer a solution... you're part of the problem'. This ass hole is the problem.

“OK, the asshole's in all day preparing for some hearing tomorrow, so he'll be there,” Maury told his partner.

There weren't any parking places this time so the detectives double parked and went into the building where the congressman's office was. They walked into an empty front room where the secretary's desk was... a Ms. Simpson, according to sign on her desk. The two waited a minute for someone to show up but no one did. There were voices and noise coming from down the hall in the back of place where the congressman's office was.

“Comon, let's go I'm not waiting around all day,” Maury announced taking the lead. Tyson followed his partner down the hall. Tyson realized what was going on before he there, probably about the same time his partner did. When the stood in the doorway it was confirmed. The congressman from Wisconsin was busy in an oral dissertation as his secretary took some intense 'dick-tation'.

Maury looked at his parner.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked but neither of the performers heard him. Tyson was just smiling as he watched thinking he wasn't even sure if she was of legal age.

“Well, well, congressman... I see we caught you in the middle of one of your 'cunt-stituents' “Maury jokingly rattled. The two immediately broke it up and the congressman quickly pulled up his pants and then took a seat at his desk.

Maury held up his badge and Tyson did the same.

“How can I be of help officers?” Whitlock asked.

“Sorry we interrupted your connubial bliss there between you and the young lady,” Maury said sarcastically which was his normal manner when he had the upper hand.

“Me and the young lady? I don't understand. It's just the three of us in this room,” the congressman acted perplexed.

“Wow... a scene right from 'The Guide to the Married Man'. Maury commented but no one knew what he was talking about, so he let it go.

“Congressman, we're investigating some murders that have occurred in the area with people of the 'Citizens for the Constitution'...” Maury began but was interrupted by Whitlock. Maury was peeved.

“Yes... they are an extremist group and I'm working on dealing with them as we speak. They're a perfect example for gun control,” the congressman explained.

“Yeah, well in your press conference the other day, you mentioned a number of murders when that wasn't even revealed to the press yet. Three used handguns in their perpetration and that wasn't released until after you mentioned it in...” Maury was saying when Whitlock started talking. “I'm talking here, just shut the fuck up. It wasn't known publicly until you mentioned in your press conference. Can you tell me how you knew before anyone else?”

“You can speak to my civilly here. We're all educated adults here, some more so than others. But I have my contacts and I make use of them,” the man replied.

“And they're all just dying to hop on the phone and call you up with information?” Maury went sarcastic again.

“I'm going to get right to the point. We know how these murders occurred. You people have been practicing some kind of mind control games with people using a television sent to them as part of some lame contest. You've been using some kid in Maryland to broadcast something over the set he's in direct control with to accomplish your plan,” Maury was saying.

“Now wait just one...” Whitlock began.

“I didn't hear myself give you permission to speak. Tyson, did you hear me give this ass hole permission to speak? Maury asked and Tyson shook his head 'no'. Listen up...you can't deny anything because we backtracked your communication earlier this morning right back here to that computer there on your desk... the one with that young lady's thong hanging from it. Is she old enough to be poking by the way? Never mind, we can get to that later. Your cooperation may make things better for you. I can't promise anything but who else is in this with you?”

“I don't understand what you're asking?” Whitlock played dumb.

“Well, for some of us that are better educated than the others, you are one stupid dumb fuck!” Maury accused the man getting more nervous by the minute.

“I want to speak with my lawyer,” the man argued.

“Lock that door Tyson,” the detective commanded. Tyson went calmly over to it and locked it. “You'll speak to your lawyer when I find out who else is behind this. It has to be a big money man orchestrating this thing,” Maury claimed.

“Fuck you,” Whitlock proclaimed.

“Now the real man emerges,” Maury joked. 'Tyson hold this guy down.”

Maury pulled out a set of his latex gloves and slipped them on. Both Whitlock and Tyson watched and wondered what he was up to. Then when he reached into his inner pocket and removed the remote controller from Lawrence Adam's television they realized.

“Shove something in this guy's mouth,” Maury commanded as he moved closer to the congressman. There was fear in his eyes. “For a guy not knowing what I was talking about you sure seem to have recognized this remote... just how is that Whitlock...Witless Whitlock?”

With that the older detective grabbed the congressman's right hand and shoved it on the remote... on the off/on switch and pressed. Within minutes the politician was a zombie, not that he wasn't to begin with but more so now.

“OK congressman... the first thing I want to know is,” Maury asked as he turned on his digital recorder, “who is the money man behind this whole deal murdering people belonging to Citizens for the Constitution?”

“T. Wihelm Bates...” the subject responded.

“How exactly is do you get the job done in these people's homes?” the detective asked.

“Bates has the televisions built to his specs in China. We send them UPS to homes with congratulatory letters about winning a contest. No one ever questions that. The TVs have two-way communications in them because of fiber optics and they each have four cameras in them we can control by computer. When the person turned the television on it activates the link and they've inadvertently administered a mind control drug to themselves through the remote. The message is broadcast over the television, and they do what we want,” Whitlock explained.

“Why are you doing this?” Maury asked.

“This 'Citizens for the Constitution' is becoming a pain in the ass for us. We want to get rid of them and if in the course of things, we can create severe gun legislation we will do that,” he answered.

“Now, I'm going to read a list of names here I have,” Maury told the man as he unfolded a piece of paper that you guys induced to kill their families. I want you to confirm their innocence based on your mind control games as I read them off...” Maury continued, going through the list and confirming what Bates and the congressman had done. “Now, I want to know where and when you're meeting Bates again.”

“Tomorrow night at seven for dinner at the Tarkington Hotel,” the politician answered.

“Good... are you going to be here in your office tomorrow when you head over there for dinner?” Maury asked. “And you won't remember any of our being here to question you...”

“I'll be here,” Whitlock told them.

On the way out the door Maury turned to the secretary doing her nails as a call came in. He laughed watching her as she answered th phone upside down and had to turn it around. She looked at it first like something was wrong with the speaker.

“Your boss is doing some work for us and doesn't want to be disturbed for a couple of hours. He said you could take off the rest of the day if you wanted,” Maury lied to her.

It didn't take any more than that for her to throw on her sweater and prepare to leave.

“This was just too easy,” Maury retorted to Tyson.

“What are you up to? We have his confession on your recorder,” Tyson admitted.

“I don't trust these defense attorneys. They might make mincemeat out of that confession and get the jerk off... more than that underage dimwit he has working for him. No... I'm going to make sure justice is served for all those families that have been fucked over by these guys They're amoral no matter what way you look at it,” Maury explained.

“I'm with you a hundred percent, whatever you're up to,” Tyson said in support.

“First thing we do when we get back, I put this into evidence and get another one, unused, from the evidence room,” Maury told his partner obviously having a plan already in his head.

They returned to the congressman's office the next day and asked to see Whitlock just before he was planning to leave to go to dinner with Bates The secretary was gone for the day, so they had clear sailing walking directly into Whitlock's office.

“Gentlemen, the office is closed. I can help you tomorrow just call my secretary to set something up in the morning,” Whitlock said standing up and reaching into his pocket for a card that he began to hand to Maury. He remembered nothing of meeting them the day before thanks to the scapalomine.

As he reached out Maury grabbed the man's hand and pushed him back into his chair and sat on him.

“Pull the gloves out of my pocket and put them on. Now get the evidence bag out of my pocket and get the remote,” the congressman reacted hysterically knowing what was about to happen.

Within minutes the politician appeared semi comatose.

“Do you have a gun, congressman?” Maury inquired.

“Yes... but not here,” he replied. Maury pulled out his throw away revolver he had in a holster around his shin.

“You take this with you tonight to dinner. I want you to use this on Bates. When you do you announce to everyone what you two have done and how you set up innocent people in these murders involving the elimination of 'Citizens for the Constitution'. When you're done leave the gun on the table and wait for the police to arrive. Go that?” Maury told the man who confirmed he had. Tyson was beside himself knowing this was iron clad without defense attorneys doing their magic.

The television had an interesting report in the morning in the squad room when the two detectives met up.

'In local news, Congressman Alvin Whitlock of Wisconcin, big proponent of gun control and the creation of a new Constitution for this country, shot and killed T. Wllhelm Bates, billionaire industrial giant in a public setting...the Tarkington Hotel yesterday evening as they met for dinner. Observers...” the announcer went on.

Maury looked over at his partner sitting at his desk.

“And that's that Chicken Man,” Maury concluded.

“That's that, Newton,” Tyson added, but what more could you?