Date: Sun, 04 Jul 2004 23:37:19 +0800
From: Matthew McKendrie <my_group_e_mail@graffiti.net>
Subject: The Matthew J. Edison Chronicles: Prolog /Chapter 01/ Chapter 02

The Matthew J. Edison Chronicles

by Matthew J. Eddison


Prolog

Bill Jackson sat at his desk rubbing the stress of the day from his eyes.
Looking to the clock on his phone's display he noted it was two o'clock in
the morning.  Shaking his head he had to wonder why he had just spent
twelve hours reading and re-reading the stack of contracts, bank records
and internal memos spread over the desktop.  He hadn't found anything out
of place, no smoking gun, nothing amiss at all.  Still, he couldn't shake
the feeling that something was wrong.

He had only been the CFO of Holcomb Omnitech for six months, having been
wooed away from his previous employer by the title, and yes, by the mid-six
figure salary.  Too, the chance to work for Jefferson Holcomb was a dream
come true.  Holcomb had single handedly changed the way businesses
integrate new technologies by providing a single point of purchase with
customized hardware bundled with multi-vendor software tailored to meet the
clients needs.  In the fifteen years since starting the company out of his
garage it had grown into a 2 billion dollar monolith - still closely held.
If it ever went public, Jackson felt sure he would be well rewarded.  That
thought drove this all-nighter and all the other all-nighters he had and
would pull scouring every document processed through the major accounts
division.  The difference this time was in his gut.  It didn't feel right.

First, he had never heard of Burgess Property Management.  The only
reference he could find to the company, a short blurb in a Chattanooga
newspaper, played it off as a small company that ran no more than 200
rental units for poor and low-income families in rural East Tennessee.  Yet
here they were, signatories to a $30,000,000.00 contract for a multi-state
intranet.

Second, Burgess Principal was listed as Phillip T. Burgess III, a
well-known football hero from Chattanooga's leading prep school who had
only recently graduated from the University of Tennessee with a degree in
Hospitality Management.  A few phone calls to friends in Knoxville had
shown the young man to have been much more interested being a bar patron
than a bar owner and someone who had expressed frequent disdain for his
grandfather's company in general and his grandfather in particular.

Finally, the younger Burgess didn't work for Burgess Property Management.
He had recently joined the Morgan Hospitality Group as a banquet manager
for their 4-Star Hotel in Nashville.  That little tid bit had been found in
the local newspaper's new hire and promotions page.

Jackson read over the assembled documents one more time. It had been an
exhausting day and there was a breakfast meeting scheduled for 7 A.M. to be
considered.  With overstuffed briefcase in hand he headed down to the
secured parking garage located beneath the Holcomb Tower.  He fumbled with
the keyless remote to unlock his brand new Jaguar XJ when he felt a bump to
the back of his head a dropped the key ring.  As he bent forward to
retrieve the keys he felt himself falling. He briefly recognized a shadow
behind and felt the second .22 caliber slug enter his skull.

Bill Jackson, 42, good husband and father of two teenage boys lay dead in a
growing pool of his own blood.


01 - The New World


Matthew J. Edison, 21 and recent graduate of Ohio State University, felt
himself falling and reached out for support.  None being had, he hit the
transmission hump in the back seat floorboard of the old Jeep Cherokee with
a thud, pain shooting through his right side radiating in waves from his
hip to his toes.  Startled and disoriented he looked up and saw only
blackness, then a flash of light then blackness.  It took a moment to
realize he was watching streetlights pass over the truck, and that he had
fallen asleep somewhere along the drive from Cincinnati to Nashville.

"Zach, where the fuck are we?" his question was directed at Zachary Mason,
driver and best friend.

"Just coming into Nashville, shithead - I thought you were going to keep me
company," the edge in his voice showed the wear of driving five hours at
night.  "It was your idea to leave right after the party and you've been
asleep since before we got out of Cincy'.

"Sorry, Zach.  I think all that parental attention must have taken it
toll."

It had been a party, both boys having graduated with honors the day before.
Matt and Zach had driven from Columbus to Cincinnati early in the day to
spend some time with their parents, shopping and getting ready for the trip
to Vanderbilt University.  Ezra and Miriam Mason had driven in with Matt's
mother, leaving their small town comfort zone at the insistence of Jack
Edison, lawyer, pompous ass and long distance father.

"Your dad was in rare form - I guess there's something to said for divorce
guilt, after all".

"You know he's only like that when Mom and your folks are around.  When
we're alone or just you there he can be pretty cool.  Besides, we have a
fully charged Amex and just about everything Target has to offer for the
trouble".

"I know - but it drives me nuts watching my dad do metal calculations and
raising his eyebrow every time your dad reaches for his wallet.  CPA's
don't go in for that kind of shit".

The Jeep glided up the ramp, coming to a stop as Zach tried to remember
which way to exit to get to their new digs. "Right, then two blocks down".

"Three hundred miles asleep and now you want to navigate".

The sun was beginning to rise and the street lamps started to turn off one
after the other just as they passed underneath.  Within minutes they were
in the alley of their new home, looking at the small two-bedroom guest
cottage found and promptly rented a month earlier when they had visited
with Mr. Mason.  At $700.00 a month it was a bit steep, but well within
walking distance of both the Business School and the Law School where Zach
and Matt were to spend the next three years.  The ever-frugal Mr. Mason had
negotiated all utilities - except for cable television and Internet access
- as part of the deal.  Too, he liked the fact that the Landlady lived in
the main house just a dozen or so yards away.

Mrs. Billings, a genteel lady of unknown age, was already at work on her
roses.  Oversized gloves, big floppy hat and kneepads that looked like they
must have belonged to a long grown son's High School wrestling days simply
added to the already eccentric impression both boys had taken away from
their first meeting.

"Good Morning boys," the southern charm dripped from every word.
Struggling up Mrs. Billings walked over to the white picket fence that
separated her yard from the cottage.  "Ya'll must have driven all night to
get here this early.  Looks like you brought enough stuff to fill two
houses".  She eyed the extended U-Haul and packed jeep that now filled the
small drive that served the cottage.

"Good morning ma'am," Matt took the lead with the charm of a lawyer's son.
"We left a little after one. I guess we're a bit anxious to get unpacked
and explore the city".

"Honey, ya'll just call me Miss B," pulling off one of the gloves she
reached into the pocket of her smock and removed a ring with two keys,
handing it to Matt.  "Trash pickup is Wednesday morning and that big green
thing is for recyclables only.  Put garbage in there and the city'll leave
it and I'll get a nasty note".  She turned her attention back to the roses,
close to three-dozen shrubs with nearly as many colors mixed up
together. "Ya'll just let me know if you have any questions, power's on and
the TV man will be here sometime between eight and noon to hook up that
cable ya'll wanted".

Between eight and noon.  Both boys rolled their eyes at that.  "Thanks Miss
B."

The unpacking took the better part of six hours, but in the end everything
was in its place.  Matt, an unmitigated slob had long ago resigned himself
to the fact that his roommate was a neat freak.  Too, at just over five
foot six and 140 pounds soaking wet Matt hadn't challenged his best friend
since the eighth grade when a growth spurt had taken Zach to five eleven.
With four years of varsity wrestling and soccer training bringing him to a
hair over 200 pounds it just wouldn't have been much of a challenge,
anyway.

The cable van showed up at 12:15 and the extra lines he had to run took
close to an hour.  When he was finished the boys had basic cable in both
bedrooms, along with high speed Internet for their computers and a nice
premium package hooked up to the new 32 inch TV in the living room - all a
courtesy of Matt's Dad.

Exhausted and finally finished, both collapsed on the sofa and popped open
a beer.  Zach preferred Rolling Rock, Matt - Sam Adams.  They each held a
can of Milwaukee's Best.  Some things were not on the budget of unemployed
graduate students.

"We gotta find jobs, man," Zach really hated The Beast.

"After the fourth one, it all tastes the same.  Besides, we have time."
Ever impractical, Matt wanted nothing to do with work.  But he knew the
hunt had to start soon.

Watching TV till around eight, both boys were beat and hit the sack -
deciding to put off explorations of their new home until the next day.


Chapter 02 - And So It Begins

The alarm in Matt's room was loud.  Very loud.  And it had been going off
for twenty minutes when Zach entered and slapped the top in order to quiet
the jarring siren.  Looking at his sleeping roommate - not for the first
time in their lives - he wondered how the boy had ever gotten to a single
class.  He sat down on the edge of the bed and began the morning ritual of
waking the dead.

"Matt", he gently shook the sleeping figure by the shoulder.  It was not
that he felt particularly gentle this morning, but his friend was not good
at waking up.  Any violent attempt to wake him, any rough shove or shouting
of his name would almost invariably result in something akin to a panic
attack that could last all morning.  It had been that way since they were
children; starting around the time Mr. Edison had packed his bags and left
for his new life in Cincinnati.

"Matt, we gotta get going - it's after eleven," Zach took his time and Matt
slowly rolled over.  He still woke with a slight jolt, but it passed
quickly.

"Sorry, man".  He smiled weakly and realizing where they were silently
cursed.  He thought he had been getting better, but the move and all the
excitement of being so far from home for the first time must have caused
the old insecurities to reset.  "Go ahead and get ready, I'll make some
coffee".

"Done and done bud," Zach moved over to the desk while Matt shook off the
sleep.  Handing him a steaming mug of gourmet coffee.  Both had spent their
college years slinging java for the largest national chain and so had a
freezer full of the best coffees from around the world - low pay and a
pound of coffee every week had made for some long all-nighters and a
caffeine monkey neither could shake.  "We can spend the day reconnoitering
for some non-coffee jobs".

Matt took a deep draw from the mug and felt the warm liquid explode with
flavor and energy.  "Sumatra - good choice.  There's a 'buck's right across
from the Law School.  I could get a job there.  Do you really want to give
up the good stuff?"

"We'll manage", Zach started to leave the room, stopped and turned back.
"Matt, look, I promised my dad I'd find something that uses my degree - he
expects me to sit for the CPA exam and start making it on my own.  He's
happy to pay for B-School, but its different now.  I know your dad doesn't
care until you graduate from law school, but mine does".

"Don't fuck up my buzz", tossing a pillow towards Zach, Matt stretched and
stood up.  Clad only in tight white boxer briefs, his small but defined
body looked like a miniature version of an underwear ad.  His mop of dirty
blond hair went every direction.  "I had the same conversation with him.
Hell, he's been more of a father to me than my own dad, so real world here
we come".  Within an hour they had turned in the U-Haul and found a great
cheeseburger joint just up the street from their house.  They were
disappointed by the local newspaper's want ads.  It looked like no one was
hiring anything but waiters and truck drivers.  Pouring a second beer from
the one pitcher they agreed to share, it was about to seem like a wasted
day when their waitress returned to clear the now cleaned plates.  She was
about forty and in the daylight streaming through the windows looked like
the years had been kind - but the nights had definitely taken a toll.

"You boys save room for some pie?" her smile was automatic but seemed
genuine.

" No thank-you, we'll just take the check, please" Zack was more than ready
to get out of the dark bar.  Matt, on the other hand, liked the cozy feel
of the place and two beers in him were enough to write off the rest of the
day.

"What kind of pie?" Zack shot a look at his friend, but knew well enough
that the afternoon was shot. He should have nixed the beer idea, but he was
pretty tired and it wasn't as if they could go out job-hunting on a Friday
afternoon, anyway.

"Well, we have chess and we have pecan".  Seeing some confusion on the
boy's faces "One is sweet, the other is sweeter".

"I'll have sweet and he'll have sweeter," Matt ordered without
consultation.  As the waitress retreated to the kitchen, he turned his
attention to Zack and his sour face.

"OK, we're not going to find anything in the paper, so I suggest we take my
dad up on his offer to introduce us to some of his old classmates.  What's
the use of breaking our backs to maybe find something when he pretty much
guaranteed a clerical spot with a big law firm?"

Zack groaned at the idea of sitting in some small, cramped room filing for
three years.

"Hey, dumbass, it can't be any worse than the last six summers of my life
being cooped up in your dad's office entering column after column of
numbers in his client accounts.  Besides, I've done your accounting thing,
why can't you at least try the lawyer thing for a while?"

"I know, and they probably won't give us much trouble over scheduling
around our classes.  We'll call him when we get home."  That settled they
dug into the freshly delivered pie.

It didn't take Jack Edison long to secure both boys work with the firm of
an old classmate. They would share one job typing motions and updating
files for the Civil Litigation Team.  Most of the work could be done from
home, via a secure Internet interface, with both required to attend only
one meeting a week for review and new assignments.  They'd split a $400.00
salary and put in about twenty hours a week each.  It was perfect, and even
Mr. Mason was happy - temporarily - that his son had a real job, even if it
didn't have any benefits.  Besides, he'd reasoned, his son needed some
experience with lawyers if he was to be of any help with the large base of
tax clients Mason & Mason Accounting handled.  Zack was the second Mason
and neither had ever doubted his joining the firm.


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