Draft of another chapter.

Draft of Chapter 6. The plot thickens.

6. Flaws in the Hood.

“To have and to hold, say I do”
“I do”
“You may kiss the bride.”
We'd done it. For better or worse Laura and I were going to give married life another try. Though this time it was with each other which could only be an improvement over our past choices. With the service over, it was off to Jamaica for a honeymoon. Despite having Danny in tow we had fun. My cell didn't work, I stayed unplugged from the Internet, and nothing happened. Well at least nothing I would tell you about.
Eventually something did happen. On the way back to Atlanta, transferring through Miami, we ran into an old acquaintance on his way to a scientific meeting. Dr. Qieng Li, in the physics department at Bejing University was both a friend and a rival in the world of sensor physics. “So Will,” he began as we waited for our bags, “What brings you to Miami?”
“On the way back from my honeymoon.” I introduced him to Laura and Danny. He joked with Laura, “You have to watch this one, keep him busy and out of the lab so I have a chance to publish first.” They laughed. He then turned to me and said, “One thing, though, Will, would you tell the TOEFL-tutoring team at GSU how well they are doing?”
“How well they are doing?”
“Yes, our students have been using your service and it's made a huge difference for them. It's been well worth the money.”
“Money, I suppose they charge, how much?” If it was enough I could always have the more literate of my students supplement their stipends with a few hours work.
“Depends, can be as much as $10,000 a student. If they need a lot of help that is.”
“Wow. I had no idea it was so profitable.” Something told me the university didn't either.
“It really works too. One of my students, Xa Shen, could barely read English, but after two months, he scored well enough for MIT.”
I was speechless. It sounded too good to be true.
“There's my bag! Say 'hi' to Dr. Lee for me.”
2
I first noticed the Bengali contingent when we were transferring in Miami. International travel to the US goes through customs at the first airport where you land. There was some number, more than I could quickly count, of excited young women in matching brightly colored saris, chatting away over in the foreign passport line. I didn't think much of it at the time as Danny was asking where there was a bathroom and I wanted to make sure that we reentered the good ol' USA successfully.
It wasn't until we met again at the baggage claim at Hartsfield Jackson airport in Atlanta that they impinged more seriously on my consciousness. I chatted to one, who looked barely 16 and knew some variety of English, while we were waiting for the bags to arrive from the bowels of the airport.
“So is this a girl scouts or youth group outing?”
“No, we have jobs, in the US.”
“Oh, where?”
“Atlanta, maids. So exciting.”
A rather muscular man came over and interrupted us. He very brusquely told the woman “Don't talk to anyone.” and then warned me, “This is none of your business. Nosy people who ask questions tend to lose their noses.”
“I was just being sociable, welcoming them to Atlanta.”
“Don't.”
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
“I mean it. Stay away from this.”
After picking up our bags I told Laura about out conversation. “Sounds like you've run into one of the human trafficking rings.”
“Trafficking rings?”
She pulled up a photo on her cell. “Did the man look like this?”
“Yes, that's him.”
“Can't prove it yet, but those poor girls don't have a clue what they're in for.”
“Damn. They seemed nice enough. They seemed just like a bunch of excited freshmen eager for their first classes.”
“INS is on it.”
“Good.” I had other problems to pursue, and the Feds could look after that one.
3
The next day I caught up with my student Tom and found out how the class was going. The physics teaching was fine. Unfortunately the rest wasn't. “We're down to 48 students now, and not another dropout.”
“Damn. Did he survive?”
“She collapsed about halfway through the class. Might make it, at least she was alive when the EMT's left. Our friend Steve helped with the CPR.”
“I'm glad someone was there.”
“Yeah, he said it was much nicer with a pretty girl than the CPR dummy.”
“Let's not go there, shall we. Who was it?”
\\ will track down the victim. Find her with Steve? Anyway she wasn't “stung” but scratched. And yes she's involved with ESL online tutoring.
“Tamika Harris.”
“Which one was she?”
“She was the young black woman who always sat up in the front, the middle of the row.”
“Damn, one of the better student's wasn't she?”
“Do you know where she went?”
“Dunno, probably Grady.”
“When was this?”
“A week ago, just after you left.”
“Has anybody tried to contact her or her parents?”
Not surprisingly, no one from GSU had tried to find them. I opened up 'gosolar', the web-based grade tool we used, and found her record. There was a picture, her student e-mail address and little else.
My office phone rang. It was her parents.
Grady hospital, being only a few blocks away from campus, was an easy walk. I found Tamika and her family in her hospital room.
I was greeted enthusiastically, “Dr. Sharpe, we're so glad you could visit. Tamika was enjoying your class.”
“All part of the GSU service.” It wasn't, but this made for a nice story. “How is she doing?”
Her father answered, “As well as can be expected.” He paused, awkwardly, then continued, “Dr. Sharpe, we've heard that you're not just a physics professor, are you?”
My reputation preceded me. “No, I have 'other interests'.”
“One of those is an investigator, isn't it?”
“Yes.”
“I want to know who did this to my baby.”

Draft of Chapter 4

4. Gate Crashing.

Dr. Vazio of the ESL department couldn't believe what he found. The discrepancy between overseas results and the tests he gave his foreign students when they took the ESL classes was beyond any statistically reasonable possibility of being an accident. If it were only one or two students, he could understand it. There were thirty of them, supposedly fluent in English, but barely able to make themselves understood. They were supposed to be GTA's, teaching undergraduates in the next term. There was simply no way that they could perform to expectation. He brought this to the attention of his chair and was told to ignore it. It wasn't his problem. He made an appointment with the Dean for tomorrow morning. As he exited the elevator for his floor in the G-deck parking garage and headed towards his car he felt a sharp sting but ignored it. The yellow jackets were active this time of year and he assumed one had caught him on his way to the car. He began to feel a little ill while sitting in his car, but started it and backed out of his parking spot. Swerving wildly he accelerated to the exit gate. He passed out, jamming the accelerator pedal open. The car leaped through the checkout gate, sending splinters flying and flew across Courtland street. Crashing through the pedestrian barrier it fell down into the parking lot on the ground level 30 feet bellow between the Athletic Center and the ROTC building. The autopsy showed that he died of a sudden heart attack, or as they labeled it spontaneous idiopathic fibrillation.
2
I stopped my chair's office to remind him that he was invited to Laura and my engagement/wedding party on Saturday. He was sitting with the department director of graduate students. They said that they would be at the party, and then asked, “Your student Tom, he's writing up isn't he?”
“Should be, especially if he expects to graduate at the end of Summer.”
“So you'll be looking for another student then?”
If I stayed, that is, but I replied, “Probably.”
“Anything against a foreign one?”
“As long as they're good. No.”
“Take a look at this one from China, named Shen Yi, he specifically asked to work with you.”
They handed me the student's file which had the standard mug shot, statement of interests and glowing recommendations. I glanced at his GRE's and TOEFL scores. “Why on earth would he want to come here, with scores like these he could go to Harvard or Yale?”
“He doesn't say, but he says he wants to work in your lab.”
“That's unusual.” I looked more carefully at the scores, his classes and recommendations. “His verbal TOEFL is phenomenal. There are always ways to fake the written ones, but faking the verbal test is a little harder. It's like there was a ringer.”
“I gave him a phone interview. His English is very good. He said he's been practicing with an American friend online.”
“Want to bet the friend lives in Atlanta; I wonder who she is? Well then, if he wants to come here, send him an acceptance letter.”
3

Class over, this time without any medical emergencies, I was preparing to leave for Northside. In the absence of any real evidence, I thought I would see if I could interview Jane. Either heart disease had become infectious or there had to be some common thread between the victims. Morrison called as I was headed to my car.

“Will?”

“Yes.”

“The medical examiner said his results were 'interesting'. He couldn't check all the cases, but what he found was unusual.”

“What's that mean?”

“Is there a drug problem at GSU?”

“There's almost certainly some drug use, but it doesn't make the newspaper.”

“One was an overdose on Adderol.”

“That happens at 'Tech¹ occasionally, I guess our classes are getting harder so it's bound to happen here.”

“Another looks like a potent mix of illegal drugs. Meth for sure, maybe some others.”

“Wouldn't surprise me,” with more than 30,000 students at GSU there was bound to be an addict or two. “That's two. What about the rest?”

“He said most of the bodies had been released to the families. When he very carefully went over the one he still had, there was something that looked like a recent injection site, maybe. It was just a pin prick.”

“People inject meth sometimes, don't they?”

“Yes, but this wasn't on the body where there were traces of Meth and the wound was much more superficial than he'd expect with a meth addict.”

“So I guess there's nothing to go on.”

“He said he's going to keep his eyes open. No clear evidence of crime, but he wasn't happy that these were all normal deaths. That's not bad.”

“Not good, either.”

“It's a start.”

4

Jane was sitting up in bed when I arrived. She had a heart/breathing monitor still attached, but was no longer in the ICU and was in a normal hospital room. I asked, “Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

She nodded, “Beats watching game show reruns and soap operas.”

“A few of the questions I want to ask have to do with drug use. I won't tell your parents.”

“There's nothing to tell. I have the odd beer with my friends. That's all.”

“You don't take anything to do better in school? Some illicit Ritalin for example.”

“Absolutely not. Besides, I had to take a drug test before I could teach. I was clean. Why?”

“Good, that eliminates one set of leads.”

“Leads?”

“I'll fill you in after I've asked my questions, but I'm trying to see if there is any common thread between the students who've had 'heart attacks' lately.”

“Sweet.”

“Can you describe what happened the day you collapsed?”

“Well, I had class in the morning. Then lunch, and drove out to my school. Nothing unusual.”

“Really?”

“There was that insect sting.”

“Sting?”

“I was out watching the children on the playground when a wasp or bee stung me. It just flew into me, stung me and I brushed it off. It was a bit odd, there was a sort of 'pop' noise at the time.”

“Ever been allergic to bees?”

“No.”

“Can I see where it stung you?”

She bared her arm, but there wasn't much to see. There was possibly a small mark where she pointed. If there had been a wound, it was well-healed. That line of questioning wasn't going anywhere. So I tried another, “The other thing I need to do is look for a common social thread between you and the other possible victims.”

“Grilling me about my private life?”

“Not really, you just have to tell me if you know the person I mention.” I started with the boys from my class. “Sam Green or Steve Jordan?”

“I knew Sam, we both worked tutoring jobs for the online ESL service. He was a nice guy, for a Freshman.”

“Steve?”

“No. I don't think so.”

None of the other names I knew about were familiar. Before I left I asked her how she was doing, Danny wanted to know when his favorite teacher would return. She replied, “Pretty well, it's funny though, parts of me are still numb or don't work right. It's like I'm a robot and my wiring is wrong.”

5

I tried talking to the ESL lab to see if they would let me see the list of students who worked for them. They said there was this little issue of student privacy involved. This was a little odd, since the freedom of information act makes everything spent or done at GSU a matter of public record². So I asked again, and received the same answer, this time a little more forcibly. If I showed up with a police detective, a warrant and the down of an unhatched pterodactyl they'd let me know. Otherwise, would I please go and do something anatomically impossible to myself.

I gave Arthur a call. He asked me, “When are you going to get back on a case that pays?” Then he agreed to see what he could find out via informal channels. “I've helped a couple of people in personnel, they should return the favor.” I didn't ask any questions and he volunteered no further information.

6

Laura and I threw and engagement/wedding party, partially to celebrate our coming nuptials, and also to introduce our disparate friends to each other. It also meant that we could skip out right after the ceremony to have a honeymoon without a lot of fuss. I'd suggested we go somewhere safe, say Somalia or Columbia, but Laura insisted that the northern beaches of Jamaica would be best. In retrospect, she was correct, I don't think she'd look good in a burka.
The party started well enough, given the mix of professors, the occasional scared-looking graduate student, detectives and lawyers. Most of our difficulty was making sure that the mixture didn't self-segregate into knots of people who knew each other talking about things they mutually knew. It was in this spirit that I introduced one of the chemists, Isabelle Carling to a knot of detectives containing my friend Alvin Morrison. They were discussing shop, the status of the local drug trade, and I figured her interests in synthetic organic chemistry would fit right in.
One of the detectives was saying, “There's a new source of Meth in south side.”
“Really,” Dr. Carling observed, “How interesting.”
“It is,” he continued, “It's much cleaner than the usual stuff. Most of these Meth cooks produce a mixture of products that is not very pure.”
“What do you expect, it's hard to do a clean synthesis.”
“This stuff, it's clean, almost as if they used a real chemist to make it rather than cooking it up in some shack in the woods.”
Isabelle dropped her glass. “I'm sorry. Didn't mean to do that.”
While I was mopping up the mess I overheard a bit more. The detective was continuing to expostulate, “It's called 'blue panther' for some reason. Couldn't have anything to do with State could it?”
“No, no.” Isabelle quickly replied, “We have strict controls on our chemicals. It would be impossible to set up a drug lab at GSU.”
I wandered off to dump the debris and rinse my rags, by the time I returned the conversation was over. I also noticed Isabelle had made her excuses and left.

1Since the stimulants used to help people with ADHD will also improve performance for others there is a black market in them among college students at high pressure universities. Since their use carries a significant risk of causing or exacerbating heart problems, there is the occasional 'promising career' cut short.

2Seriously, if you want to see how much money is wasted on your professors salary, just ask. But before you write your state representative about it, check out the football coach, college president and various senior administrators.

Grammar checker for Libreoffice

I tend to use libreoffice for writing. Simple, easy to use, runs on linux and windows. What more could I want?

How about a working grammar checker? The languagetool extension fits the bill (mostly). It's easy to install and gets many of the simple errors. It's not perfect, sometimes gets confused, but I've been finding it useful. Everything it flags may not be incorrect, but is worth examining. Often what it flags is confusing, even if it is really correct.

I give it my five skulls for excellence.

Another trivia question

Anyone figure out whose statue I'm using for my picture? There's a connection to the book I'm currently writing. It's a bit tenuous, but real.

A Hidden, Almost Covert Blogger Channel

There is a simple way to use the comments on blogger-based blogs to communicate with a friend largely free from monitoring.

1. Set up. Exchange or generate a Google ID/password pair. The exchange doesn't have to happen over the net, it could be by a phone call or a physical mail. 
2. User 1 logs in and opens a comment on one of the many, many low volume blogs on blogger. (This is one, being connected with a beginning mystery author). He, she or it puts down part of the message and saves a draft comment.
3. User 2 logs in and edits the comment. He can either read and delete the comment or he can put his message in. If he isn't done with the communications, he saves the draft.

The reason I said he, she or it, is that you can automate the process. I suspect that an IRC channel could be constructed this way.

Prolog and revised chapter 1

The prolog gives the reader critical information about part of the mystery of the plot. The major actors in the book do not know about these events. This might be a 'red herring' or a 'red red herring' subplot. 

0. Prolog.

They met in a dark staircase, in the evening just past dusk, in one of the apartment towers near Donghua university in Shanghai. The stale smell of dinners past filled the air, just barely overwhelming the sulfurous smell from the coal smog.
The young man said in his most desperate voice, “I need to do well on the TOEFL to enter Harvard. My parents could not live with the shame if I fail.”
The foreigner coughed from the smog then quietly replied, in his strongly accented and not quite mastered Cantonese, “The money, you it have?” By his build, he was unmistakably a foreigner, despite his smog mask, dark glasses and hat pulled down over his eyes. Even though he wore clothes from the local department store.
“Five thousand dollars?”
“Six. Cash. Now.”
“Here.”
The foreigner counted it. “You're short. Not enough. More.”
“It's all we have, we'll pay you. I promise.”
“No. Not enough for Harvard.”
“UGA then?”
“OK.” The foreigner pocked the money. He then gave the young man a written sheet with his gloved hand. “This instructions is. Understand?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Now forget you saw me.” He left down the stairs and out into the deepening fug. He had long a series of appointments to keep that evening before catching his plane home.



Shen Yi carefully read the paper he bought. They contained detailed instructions on how to log into a site using a virtual tunnel through the 'Great Firewall of China'. He could hardly wait, and once home fired up his laptop and got started.
The most beautiful girl he ever saw was on the screen when he logged in. She looked very much Chinese, for an American. He wasn't expecting that. He sat there, agog at her, his jaw dropped with amazement. She began to speak, “Do you want to start with the English practice?”
He stammered, in Cantonese, “Do you speak Chinese?”
“A little,” she then continued in English, “I'm adopted and my parents insisted I learn my culture's language. You're here to learn English aren't you?”
“You're very beautiful,” Yi, continued this time in English. She blushed. “Thank you.” She looked down at a paper on her desk and asked him, “The first question is 'what is the difference between to and too?'”
“One means also. Can you give me your email address so we can talk later?”
The girl paused, “I'm not allowed to tell you that.” She wrote something on a sheet of paper and held it up in front of the camera. Yi hastily wrote down her address. She continued, “The second question is give me an example of using too.”
“I like know if you are a college scholar too.”
“Very good, but it would be better to say, 'I would like to know if you are a college student too'.”
“I would like to know if you are a college student too.”
“Great. And I would reply, 'I am, I am a student at Georgia State University'.”
“You are?”
“Yes. Where are you?”
“Donghua. I want to graduate study in Georgia.”
“Good, but 'Donghua, I want to do graduate study in Georgia', is correct”
“Donghua, I want to do graduate study at Georgia State University.”
The girl blushed again, Yi was a fast worker. He seemed nice enough, but coming halfway around the world after a couple of minutes of an online chat was a bit excessive. “Don't be silly.”
“What's silly about it? What is your name?”
“Jane.”
“Jane I think I you love.”
“Now you are really being silly. The right way to say it is 'Jane I think I love you', which you can't yet. We've just met.”
“Jane I know I love you.”

1. Put Your Hand Up before You Die.

Spring semester found me back practicing academic physics. While it was not quite as spiritually rewarding as chasing down a network of serial killers, my sudden death was a lot less likely when I was standing in the front of a classroom blathering away. It was a fair swap, especially since Laura Brown and I had hooked up. Having a reason to live changes your outlook on life. During summer, class breaks, and on the occasional evening, I still worked with Arthur Ellis, the head and sole full-time detective for Argus detectives. If I kept at it, I'd have my two years employment as a private detective and could become a certified private investigator. Given the status of funding and the way this university ran, that was looking more and more attractive each day. I'd drawn the short straw in the class assignment lottery for spring semester and was teaching PHYS 1101, non-calculus physics. Or as we liked to call it 'physics for poets'. It allowed the non-mathematical types to satisfy a science requirement for graduation, but far more importantly than that it brought credit hours and the tuition dollars that came with them to the department budget.
I'd finished lecturing a class of 50 freshmen and sophomores in Classroom South. They mostly sat there slumping in their seats almost as responsive as lumps of mud. Today's lot looked suitably glazed over, with their brains well cooked and at the limit of their endurance. While occasionally one would realize that this science stuff was interesting and worth the effort to learn it, there would be no such revelations today. One student in particular looked a bit more thoroughly glazed over than the rest. I told the class, “See you next time, and don't forget to at least try the homework.” which was followed by the bulk of them rising and running for the door. They were 'free at last'. The student who was particularly glazed over lifelessly dropped to the floor when he was jostled by the others. I ran to him, while someone screamed in the background. I shouted, “Call 911”, and watched as several students complied. One student ran up, “I know first aid, CPR. Can I help?”
“You bet. Start on CPR while I go and get the AED from the hall.”
I dashed out into the hall, then down it towards the center of the building where there were AED's mounted on the wall. The alarm on the AED holder was already sounding. Someone had just removed the device. Two heart attacks at the same time on the same day was not a foreseen event.
Racing back to the room, I found the student pumping away as hard as he could. He shouted at me, “Where is it?”
“Already in use. When you're ready I'll spell you.” For the next few minutes we alternated for a minute each at pumping on the student's chest. CPR is exhausting work and the two of us were nearly shot when the EMT's finally arrived. We'd been doing our best to match the beat of 'Stayin Alive' which happens to have the right tempo for CPR. Unfortunately it was more a case of 'Another One Bites the Dust' which also has the right tempo.
EMT's aren't allowed to declare a patient as dead, but it was pretty clear that after a few minutes of their hard work, there wasn't much hope for the student. As they were leaving I heard one say to the others, “Funny, that's the tenth one this week.” His friend replied, “Wonder what they're taking?”
It had been a while since GSU had a serious drug problem. Most of the students worked part time to pay for college and didn't have the time or inclination to spend it high. Those that had the time tended to favor beer.
2
That night at dinner Laura noticed I was distant. Ms. Laura Brown, former assistant DA for the city of Atlanta and now a rising star among the state prosecutors and I, decided to get married. As she now had full custody of her son, I was going to be an acting stepfather. It seemed wise to move in a bit ahead of time and let her 6 year old son Daniel get used to me. “Will, what happened?”
“Lost a student.”
“You don't usually get upset when one drops your class.”
“Hardy,” I laughed, “No, it wasn't that. He died from heart failure at the end of class.” At least that's when we found out about it. He could have been dead for a few minutes before without my noticing it. That thought only made it worse.
She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “That's awful.”
“I didn't think my lectures were that boring.”
“I'm sure they're not.”
Danny had a different take on things. By age 6, he'd seen his parents divorced, then had his stepmother reject him when his father was put on trial for organizing an embezzlement ring with murderous consequences at the university research foundation. Mind you, his biological father had just doped Danny's stepmother preparatory to chopping her up for smoked ribs and was extending his family in several sideways directions at the time. So she wasn't completely unjustified in dumping Danny into Laura's lap. My relationship with Danny wasn't helped by the fact that it was my efforts that put his biological father in prison. We had our good days and our not so good days. This was one of the not so good days. I was getting the silent treatment until he spoke.
“They are too.”
It was going to be interesting living as a new family.
3
Next morning I text messaged my TA. We had to discuss what happened yesterday in class and figure out a plan to deal with it for the next lecture. He showed up at my office and we talked about how to handle the death in a respectable and professional manner. I vetoed the ideas of talking about the heart as a pump and measuring the electrical impulses from its muscles. It would have to be an emotional and forthright discussion about feelings.
Since neither of us was particularly skilled at social or emotional intelligence this was promising to be difficult and I was looking through the university website to see if there were counselors who could help when the undergraduate who helped me with CPR knocked on my door.
Even though he was one of the more alert ones, with 50, well now of 49 students I hadn't learned his name yet.
“Dr. Sharpe?”
“Hi, I'm sorry, I don't quite remember your name, but thank you for helping yesterday. It's a shame it didn't work.”
“Steve Jordan, well,” he paused, “we did our best. When I took CPR they warned us it didn't usually work.”
“Steve, I'm sure you've seen my TA and graduate student Tom.”
“Yo.”
“Anyway, the student who collapsed, did you know him?”
“Same scout troop. We were buddies.”
“I'm sorry. Did he have health problems?”
“No, we just did Philmont last summer. 100 miles in a week and a half at 8000 feet. Couldn't have gone if he had a weak heart.”
“He wasn't doing any drugs? Cocaine will sometimes do things like this.”
“Sam, no. He was a straight arrow. Wouldn't even drink a beer.”
“So nothing unusual?”
“Nah, he was even earning extra money by tutoring foreign students with their English. Great guy.”
“I'm sorry.”
“He'll be missed.”

A bit of trivia (spolier alert)

About a third of the way through one of the characters, David Breen, mentions his family recipe for ribs.









Why is this a clue?