Adelman wants me back, but I told her to take a powder. Tijuana Muck offered me a job and it pays better than the Rag ever did, so I’ll be moving south of the border, down Mexico way.
If you’re worried about Sammy, you can save your concern for someone else. He’ll be fine. I’ll be going back and forth between Mexico and New York, and Munoz and Lynch promise they’ll keep an eye on things. Besides, his BZRK pals are coming out of the woodwork now that the brainwave interceptor gadget is safe.
I feel bad the sisters aren’t around to see that their brother is a hero. Davis got the gadget stashed safe and sound before he went off his nut, and the world owes him its thanks. What became of Sophie and Sylvie? I don’t know. I hope the ending turns out to be happy, but I wouldn’t count on it.
The story of Lear, Sam, BZRK, Nexus, the Morgensteins, and the rest has been quite a journey. After all that, I’m looking forward to reporting on your average, run-of-the-mill drug violence.
I’m not getting any younger. I could use the rest.
Your old pal,
Sam still isn’t saying much. He’s pretty shook up and trying to finish that comic book he started about yours truly. He says he’s waiting on the ending. Something about a big event at a bus terminal taking place tonight.
My old boss over at the Rag has been making overtures. Someone sent her the login for the AmericaStrong site and she understands that I didn’t hack anyone’s phone. It’s against my ethics. Yes, I do have ethics, believe it or not.
“Tijuana Muck” didn’t want an item that came my way, and I’m not ready to hit the “Rag” again, but here it is: a woman named Patricia Lynson shot herself in the head near the Esalen Institute in Big Sur. What makes this unusual for a suicide case? Well for starters, hippies don’t tend to off themselves. For seconds, she was a former Nexus Humanus member who started an anti- Nexus Humanus campaign. Last, she was shot in the back of the head.
How many suicide cases do you see happen that way?
Sloppy work, Nexus. I have a feeling your days are numbered.
I found where they stashed Sam. He’s at the Woodlawn Psychiatric Institute. We can’t leave him hanging there. Someone needs to pretend to be his doctor and call the joint and convince them that I’m some kind of official guardian. I’d do it myself, but they know my voice. Don’t ask.
I’ve been holding onto a whole bunch of crap for some time now. All kinds of inside dirt. People always want to know a reporter’s sources. I won’t tell you how I came across all this material, but I got it.
All I can tell you is that Sophie and Sylvie Morgenstein - sisters of vicious murderer Davis - are a couple of no-good schoolgirls who are in over their heads. They are plotting something bad and are evil to the core.
It’s a good thing that the brave men and women of Nexus Humanus are onto them and won’t let them get away with whatever it is they’re plotting.
The “Rag” won’t publish what I have to say about Lear. Maybe I wouldn’t either. Lear – the anonymous brains behind this thing I now understand is called BZRK. No one knows who he is, except maybe Sam Kascewicz, but he’s not giving answers. My editor thinks I’m as screwy as Sam. Could be he’s right.
I know this. A two-headed monster and an unknown lunatic named for a Shakespeare character are fighting over nano technology and somehow Nexus Humans factors into this mess. A few days back Lear calls in his goons and a bunch of trucks hauling Nexus Humanus books explode on the highways from the U.S. to jolly old England. The truckers die. Hapless bastards driving near them bite it as well.
The books incinerate, sure, but so do human lives. Say what you will about my own ethics, but I’d never order something like this. It’s wrong, and Lear needs to be exposed.
Here’s a dossier he has for new members. I’m not supposed to have this link, but I don’t give a damn.
So all three of us – that’s me, Lynch, and beautiful Munoz – cornered the nutso who’s been trailing us. Munoz won’t give up. Lynch thinks she’s nuts, and she is. I like nuts.
Since their all-powerful superiors aren’t too keen on the investigation, I figure, what the hell… I may as well thumb their noses by printing this little exchange with “Sam Kascewicz,” the nut in question:
Detective Munoz: Did this man you call Shakespeare…
Sam Kascewicz: Lear. King Lear.
Detective Munoz: King Lear. Did Lear make Davis Morgenstein pull the trigger on Katsumoto Hasemi?
Sam Kascewicz: When Lear fiddles, his people dance.
Detective Lynch: This is ridiculous. This guy’s deranged, Munoz. Leave him alone.
Detective Munoz: His people?
Sam Kascewicz: Between you and me, they’re all crazy.
I already told you people that I like nuts. And seeing as this guy is off his rocker, I figure that’s proof positive he knows what he’s talking about.
I’ll have a chance to find out more. Munoz asked me to keep tabs on old Sammy K. Yours truly will be babysitting.
I’ve had worse assignments.
I decided to move to this joint from Facebook. It’s easier to share my garbage and gives me a lot more space to let you little creeps into my mind. Plus there’s no damn friend requests to pester me with.