A Sound in the Night

By John G. Jung

Tony McGrath is an internationally successful architect who falls on hard times. His new world is on the streets and in the Boston Commons. A serial killer that has not been heard from for several decades is targeting the people he has become familiar with. Although he and others leave Boston, the killer pursues them relentlessly. And they know they are being pursued. Working in cooperation with the police and FBI, Tony and his colleagues come up with an ingenious plan to try to trap the killer. In all the years that the Zodiac Killer has avoided being caught, will Tony and his colleagues be smart enough to outwit him or will he meet the fate of so many others by the Zodiac Killer?

• Language: English
• Publisher: John G. Jung
• Release date: Mar 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005609054

John G. Jung

John G. Jung is an award winning registered professional urban planner, urban designer, professor and economic developer. He originated the “Intelligent Community” concept in the early 1990's and continues to serve as the Intelligent Community Forum's leading visionary, co-founder and Chairman. He has headed up key portfolios and initiatives in global cities such as Toronto, Calgary, New York, Hong Kong, London and Waterloo. Author and global keynote speaker at such events as Rio’s TedTalks, Mobile World in Barcelona, APEC in Beijing, Ottawa Writer's Festival and Global Forum conferences in Europe, he has led global business missions, workshops, design charrettes and is active teaching, consulting and participating in city-building initiatives. John is co-author of “From Connectivity to Community”; “Brain Gain”; “Seizing Our Destiny’; and “Broadband Economics” available at: https://www.intelligentcommunity.org/books and chapter author of several other books on cities and urbanism; and over 100 published articles and blogs on technical topics related to cities, climate change, artificial intelligence, human centric design, etc. EDEN 2084 is John's first work of fiction.

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A Sound in the Night

By John G. Jung

Copywrite 2022 John G. Jung

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9781005609054

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Other Books by John G. Jung:

Eden 2084

Last Tree Standing

All Around the Circle

Brain Gain

Seizing Your Destiny

Broadband Economics

From Connectivity to Community

Performance Metrics for Sustainable Cities

Innovative Solutions for Creating Sustainable Cities

CHAPTER 1 - June 29, 1995

The trigger felt tense, balancing tenuously between his aching sweaty finger and the roller bearings itching to release the striker. As Tony McGrath sat looking at his Colt American 2000, he wondered if it would actually kill him or not. He left it in his office safe since he purchased it in 1990 at the SHOT Show, but it was recalled for trigger issues in 1993. His office was far too busy to follow the latest news about firearms. Tony should have returned the Colt when it was recalled, but here he was looking down the barrel and wondered if it would actually deliver the results he was speculating pursuing at the moment. He sat hunched over his office desk in the exclusive Fort Hill district of Boston, looking over the expanse of towers toward the waterfront. The sunset reflected a reddish tone on the buildings, surrounding the McGrath and Macher tower. Tony eyed the horizon past the mussel of the Colt and placed it down onto the desk. He reached out to embrace instead a bottle of bourbon, his $200 W.L. Weller 12-year bourbon that he had been drinking directly out of the bottle.

This was no ordinary day. Today was one of those one in a million moments when darkness took over. The bourbon was doing what it was supposed to do. The images of his past faded in and out. He pulled the bottle over to his face and bent it toward his lips. Tony was sweating and shivering at the same time. He looked past the bottle and scanned the horizon. What could be so bad that he felt that he needed to end it all? He almost forgot. But then his guilt reminded him.

Tony McGrath was a fortunate soul. Very fortunate. He had a tower in Boston named after him. He was 51 years old and at the top of his game. Architecture. He and his partner, Gordon Macher, were city builders. They developed large buildings, complexes, and urban ecosystems. They competed globally with the best. Gordon and Tony met as roommates at Harvard. Tony in Architecture and Gordon in Urban Design. They parlayed their first commissions into a major international competition and won. That was back in 1965. They were in their twenties and had to pull together a staff. Quickly. They said in their bid that they could develop the drawings for the concept and development permits within 6 months. There were only two of them. They estimated that they would need a team of 20 to do the work. It would take weeks to just gather a reasonable staff together. But they were able to get it done. After that project, they had the confidence of world-class designers and developers. They never looked back.

Tony finished the bottle. He lit a cigarette and drew on it slowly, contemplating whether he should pull the trigger. Or not. As he exhaled, he saw a picture of his wife, Emily, and his two daughters, Sarah and Milly. They were such sweet kids, he thought. What would my wife and children think of me? Was I being selfish? Was I a coward? What would my secretary find after they discovered my body in the morning?

Tony was born in Stratford in Southwestern Ontario in 1944. The town and river were named after Stratford-upon-Avon in the United Kingdom. Tony’s father, Jeremy, worked in a furniture factory, one of the key business sectors in this town of 17,000 people in 1944. His mother, Agnes, worked in a restaurant across from city hall. They had a simple life tied to the agricultural base of the region. Tony’s grandparents had a large farm. But with eight siblings, his father had to find other work. Nevertheless, the family farm that his Uncle Bill tended gave Tony a grounding in agriculture and building during the summer months. He helped his uncle rebuild the barn and designed several outbuildings, ranging from outdoor toilets to an addition to the family farmhouse. Tony became enamored with architecture and after graduating two years early at age 16 from Stratford Central Secondary School, he successfully competed for an international scholarship to Harvard and its prestigious architecture school. Upon arrival, he met his new roommate, Gordon Macher from Tulsa, another boy wonder, also 16 in the architecture program. They became inseparable.

Tony and Gordon became students of French Architect Le Corbusier, Finnish Architect Alvar Aalto, and Estonian-American Architect Louis Khan. They were keen to join one of the world-famous firms but instead found that their drawings and ideas as students attracted interest among local Boston area clients. Consequently, they started their own independent firm as students. They were so successful in small commissions that they grew their firm directly out of college. They set up a studio in a small office above a corner grocery store on Brattle Street in Cambridge near Harvard University. They employed sophomore students from the school to assist them in the drawings while they met with potential clients and government officials.

As entrepreneurs in their young twenties, they became known for being highly social and polished among architects in a city of highly recognized architects and designers. The name McGrath-Macher regularly appeared in proposals. Being among the lowest bids, they won many of the public projects that Cambridge and Boston publicized. Their office grew quickly and within 5 years, their office expanded to nearly 100 full and part-time architects, urban designers, landscape architects, and urban planners. Within a few short years, their firm exploded when they began to win large-scale projects ranging from tall structures in New York City to suburban new town developments in the Washington-Baltimore corridor. International projects soon followed after they added an engineering and infrastructure division as well as a government consulting agency with satellite offices on every continent.

Both Tony and Gordon traveled extensively to promote their growing business. Tony, still a Canadian citizen, was invited to join Canada’s Governor-General, Roland Michener on a trip through Europe in 1967, promoting excellence in trade, culture, and design. Tony was only one of three private sector individuals traveling with the government officials. McGrath and Macher had just opened a satellite office in Toronto amid glowing media reports. Consequently, the Prime Minister’s office of Lester B. Pearson recommended that the Governor-General showcase McGrath’s new office as a Canadian example of excellence to the world and McGrath himself as a Canadian-born wunderkind in the field of architecture. Likewise, Tony was most anxious to be able to open new opportunities for his Canadian office. The other two included the President of General Motors in Canada and the Chief Operating Officer of the Canadian Ballet Company.

Along the way, they met presidents, prime ministers, royalty, and heads of industry. Tony was particularly pleased to meet with the President of Germany, Heinrich Lübke; Prime Minister of The Netherlands, Piet de Jong; French President Charles de Gaulle; Queen Elizabeth of Great Britain; Queen Juliana of the Netherlands; Baudouin, the King of Belgium; and the monarch of Luxembourg, Grand Duke Jean. These opened doors for Tony with the administration of key cities to discuss potential redevelopment options and with private clients in Europe that he met during receptions that involved some of the continent’s business elite. Soon after Tony’s trip to Europe, their offices in the USA and Canada were successful in winning bids on several large Boston area developments as well as being short-listed on development projects in waterfronts in NYC, Boston, London, Paris, San Francisco, Baltimore, and Toronto.

By the 1970s the firm grew into an office boasting 1200 staff. A new tower in downtown Boston was built to house most of the McGrath-Macher staff as well as many companies that affiliated with them. There was a waiting list of potential tenants that wanted to be close to the wunderkinder of architecture, as the press had called them. In 1980, Tony and Gordon were on the cover of Time Magazine. Each was positioned, arms folded in crisp white cotton shirts, rolled up sleeves with their backs to each other looking directly out at the reader. Tony was a tall, striking, and sharp-faced young 36-year-old man, with blonde hair that could easily be mistaken for white, with a small dash of light gray hair on the left side. He wore heavy dark-rimmed glasses, extremely fashionable among architects, and methodically held a pipe. Gordon was slightly shorter, with dark red curly hair, wearing a thin black tie. In his right hand, exposed in the picture from his folded arm was a 12-inch architectural ruler. They each offered a smile, but it could be interpreted as a smirk. What else could two 36-year-olds say as heads of a multi-million-dollar architectural firm except we’re on top of the world, and we’re just getting started?

CHAPTER 2- On Top of the World

Tony finished the first bottle of bourbon. The world around him was growing darker. It was late in the day, but the alcohol was taking over his ability to continue. He tried to open the second bottle, but he was unable to maintain control. He tried to turn the bottle cap, but he lost his strength. The room became darker, and everything became quiet. Tony lay sprawled across his desk. Two bottles of bourbon flanked both sides of his head, one empty and the other full. The bottles framed the shiny gray Colt American 2000 at the top of the desk.

Early morning daylight rose over the eastern horizon. Its pale-yellow glow mixed with an early morning gray-blue layer of Boston pollution. Small, flickering lights across the panorama out of Tony’s office windows announced the end of the dark night and the beginning of the early morning. The phone at the end of Tony’s desk continuously pulsed on and off with its small yellow light. Tony slept with his head and outreached arms sprawled across his desk. Overnight, both bottles of bourbon were unceremoniously pushed off the desk. The Colt 2000 was also pushed off the desk, falling into the waste-paper container next to the desk, out of sight. Suddenly the desk phone buzzed and woke Tony from his deep sleep. He grunted in pain.

What the fuck? Tony slurred as he reached for the phone. His usually well-groomed hair stuck out at odd angles. The left side of his face was red with a mark left after sleeping on a pile of paper clips that had spilled from a tray next to the phone. His eyes were red, and he had a splitting headache resulting from the hangover from the night before. It was still part of the night, so he was still extremely inebriated. He pushed the button on the phone to accept the call. The voice on the other end of the line was Gordon Macher.

Tony are you alright? asked Gordon with concern. He waited for an answer. But Tony was still trying to get his bearings. He slipped back into his chair and felt around for the bottles on the floor. He then remembered his purpose in being there but could not find it. Where was the Colt?

Tony, answer me, please. Are you alright? called out the voice over the phone.

Tony dropped the phone and continued to grope for the Colt under his desk. He grabbed the empty bottle and put it to his lips. Unsatisfied, he launched the bottle across the room, exploding on a picture of him with Paul McCartney, one of his clients in England. Gordon could be heard yelling on the receiver on the ground as Tony continued to search for the Colt. Instead, he unceremoniously connected with the full bottle of bourbon. He twisted the cap off, flinging it across the room, and took a long hard drink of the golden liquid. He coughed and spit what remained in his mouth across the desk. He forgot for a moment that he was trying to find the Colt and turned to the noisy receiver on the floor beside him. He picked it up and listened from afar. He slowly put it next to his ear and immediately reacted to the noise coming out of it, pulling the receiver back several feet from his ear.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, yelled Tony into the receiver. I have a fuckin’ headache!

Gordon was quiet for a moment trying to ascertain what was going on but immediately realized that Tony was intoxicated. He understood why.

Tony, Tony, I was just trying to find you, said Gordon in great relief. You left the restaurant in the club after you heard the news, and no one knew what happened to you. Your wife called me since she couldn’t reach you on the phone. I thought you might have gone to the gym to work out your stress. I didn’t think you would go to the office, but I am glad to know you are there.

What time is it? slurred Tony.

Quarter to five. Pretty early, replied Gordon.

"Why ya’ callin’? grumbled Tony passively.

Because we were concerned about how you took the news, answered Gordon matter-of-factly. After another pause, Gordon rubbed his face from his forehead to his chin in one wave of his outstretched hand. He was tired. He was out looking for Tony in several places where Tony may have gone. Emily called Gordon as soon as it was determined that he wasn’t at home. She was about to call the police, but Gordon persuaded her to leave it to him to find Tony. He was calling from his house after searching several clubs, gyms, and familiar Boston area pubs that he and Tony had frequented over the years. It didn’t dawn on him to check the office.

The news? You mean our death, spat Tony angrily. That wasn’t news. It was the end of us.

Don’t be ridiculous, Tony, responded Gordon quickly in defense. It was an accident. Nothing that you could have done about it.

What do you mean? We were responsible! shouted Tony, slurring his voice as he grabbed the bottle of bourbon and took another long drink. You and me, Gordon. We should be executed for what we did.

Get a hold of yourself, man. You are being absurd, claimed Gordon. I am coming to the office, and I am going to take you home.

Fuck you, Gordon! shouted Tony. Fuck you. Don’t bother. There is nothing to come for. I’m done.

Just hold on, shouted Gordon, I’m coming now.

Tony dropped the receiver onto the desk and immediately dropped to his knees. He reached out for the Colt beneath his desk, but he could not find it. He desperately searched for it. Failing that he franticly looked around the room for something, but he couldn’t for the life of him know what it was. He held the bottle of bourbon in his hand as he searched and periodically took a quick swig from the bottle. He raced out into the hallway from his corner office and looked into other offices. He pushed obstacles out of his way as he continued his quest throughout the dimly lit empty office. He eventually found his way into the Xerox room and opened the cupboards filled with stacks of paper, toner, and office supplies. A package of packing material was unopened in a bag. He tucked the bottle of bourbon into his pant pocket and ripped the package open exposing several feet of plastic packing rope. He struggled to pull it apart as he rushed back to his office.

Upon entering his office, Tony slammed the door and locked it. He struggled to pull a heavy oil painting off the wall next to the door. He drew a chair toward the wall and climbed up, falling twice but eventually standing upon it. He reached toward the ceiling next to the door where a metal hook extended beyond the wall, formerly holding up the heavy oil painting, and tugged at it. Tony took another drink and tossed the bottle across the room. He stretched out the rope and made a short noose at one end of it and another wider noose at the other end. He tugged on both ends and decided it was what he wanted.

He started to murmur the words Top of the World over and over again as he lashed the short noose to the metal hook and pulled. It made a snug fit around the metal hook. He then slid the larger noose around his head and without any further thought he kicked the chair out from under him, shouting and crying for the very last time: Top of the Fuckin’ World. Tony slammed against the wall, dropping nearly to where his toes could touch the floor. He instinctively struggled and slammed his legs and arms against the wall. He made a sound that no one could hear but in his own ears, it was the gurgling sound of death. He struggled some more and felt himself flying. He was now in another world. It was dark and quiet. He was no longer in pain. The headache from his night of intoxicating medicine was gone. He felt nothing except the sensation of flying amongst the clouds. Before the end of all sensations, there was a loud noise that sounded like a thud in his ears. And then there was nothing.

CHAPTER 3 – Collapse

Tony, Tony, cried Gordon. He turned Tony over to see if he was still alive. You alright, man? What the hell?

There wasn’t any movement. Gordon rushed over to a small refrigerator where he was sure to find some cool water bottles. He returned and unscrewing the cap, he poured it over Tony’s reddened puffy face. Tony reacted to the water and swore obscenities as he raised himself up by his arms. He shook violently and gave out a shrilling cry. He was still extremely inebriated and unsure of where he was or what happened. A security guard at the door called 911 and soon medical assistance came to Tony’s aid. Within a few hours, Emily and McGrath and Macher’s senior partners arrived after Gordon called them to the office. It was almost 6:00 a.m. – well before the regular office staff normally arrived. After the ambulance took Tony and Emily to the hospital Gordon met with the senior partners to alert them of what happened.

Gordon paced back and forth in front of the partners seated anxiously around a large board room table. Gordon held a cup of coffee in his hands and took a few sips. Where do I start? he said still quite flustered and tired after the long night.

Is Tony OK? asked one of the female senior partners, concerned for Tony’s well-being. She had seen him being taken out of the office on a stretcher with a huge red welt around his neck.

Tony will be alright. He received news last evening of a building collapse in Seoul that incorporated one of his patented designs. He wasn’t responsible but he took it pretty hard and blamed himself.

What happened in South Korea? asked another senior partner.

Well, started Gordon, placing his coffee cup down and sliding into the chair at the top of the board room table, All of you probably heard in the news yesterday, that the Sampoong Department Store in South Korea collapsed killing 502 people and injuring 937. As you know, McGrath and Murdoch set up a South Korean office in 1986 entirely filled with South Korean architects and designers and registered as a South Korean company called Sangwoo Architects and Engineers. Their goal was to compete for buildings and engineering services for the 1988 Seoul Olympics. To do so all of the firms had to be Korean. That was the only way we were going to get any of the business from the Olympics. Early in 1987, our firm in Seoul received a call from Sampoong Group who was interested in developing their flagship development of the Sampoong Department Store in the Seocho-gu district of Seoul.

I recall that, remarked another senior partner, but we didn’t build it. Sangwoo never went on the site. How were we involved?

For the sake of the newer partners let me explain a bit more for background. I spoke with authorities over the phone last night in Seoul before a dinner that Tony and I had planned with our wives at the club here in town. The authorities had been on the site and quickly determined the root cause of the collapse. The site was a former landfill, and it was originally only approved for four floors of apartments. However, the blueprints were changed by Lee Joon, the Chairman of Sampoong Group's construction division to create a large 5 story department store.

Lee Joon! exclaimed one of the partners. He’s a crook. I met him in Seoul the last time I was there in the 1980s. A real cheap bastard. I hope he burns in hell!

Wait, you are getting ahead of me. Let me finish. pleaded Gordon. "As part of the redesign, Lee Joon looked for additional opportunities to make money from the approved drawings. He included 8 restaurants on the 5th floor with a heated concrete base comprising large hot water pipes, adding greatly to the weight and thickness of the slab. Large supporting structures would have been needed to be added to be able to carry the additional weight. But they were removed from the drawings to create a central area with escalators. Lee Joon knew that they were never part of the original plans for the apartment building, but he thought no one would make that connection. In addition, to provide air conditioning for the complex, three huge 15-tonne air conditioning units were installed on the roof, which exceeded the permitted weight limit by four hundred percent. When the original consulting engineers saw the proposed drawings, they advised Lee Joon that the increased weight could not be supported. That firm was immediately fired. That is where we came in. Our new firm, Sangwoo Architects and Engineers were invited to solve the problem of the additional weight. To spread the weight and allow for the escalators and open interior space for the new department store, the satellite office deployed a McGrath-patented flat-slab design for the structure.

While Lee Joon was glad to receive the new city-approved plans designed by Sangwoo, he altered the approved drawings again to save costs. Lee Joon ordered his construction company to build floor columns at 60 cm thickness rather than the required 80 cm which was the minimum legal thickness required for the slab. He also changed the drawings to indicate columns spaced 11 meters apart providing more retail space. However, this design placed far more load on each column creating undue stress throughout the structure. Furthermore, only 8 steel reinforcement bars were embedded into the concrete rather than the required 16. And to top it off a recent safety feature was incorporated. Fire shields needed for the elevators to halt the spread of a potential fire were installed. But in order to install them, they cut away at the support columns, which concentrated the load on a smaller area of the slab. This led to an eventual puncture of the slab. It was a perfect storm of conditions for the building to collapse. Any one of them, the reduction in the slab strength, the reduction in column thickness, the elevator safety feature, the overloaded weight on the fifth floor, and dragging the air conditioning units could have been the tipping point for the catastrophe. McGrath’s flat-slab design would have far exceeded the strength needed to carry the structure by at least 200% had it not been for Lee Joon’s actions."

That bastard, cried out several of the senior partners.

Sangwoo provided the drawings to the city, continued Gordon. They received the appropriate approvals and then were ordered by Lee Joon to sign off on the project. Lee Joon said that his Korean construction company would complete the job without any further involvement of Sangwoo Architects and Engineers. When McGrath and Macher’s Korean staff protested, I recall that Tony received a call from Lee Joon himself, who assured us that his construction company was capable of seeing his flat-slab design to completion. To thank Sangwoo for their work, Lee Joon agreed to provide them with his next project on a sole-source basis. Tony agreed to this and signed off on Sangwoo’s behalf. I recall that three of our staff in Korea quit over Tony’s actions. Tony simply shrugged his shoulders at the time and we arranged for more architects to be hired for the firm.

What happened since that time, Gordon? asked one of the junior partners.

Well, as I recall, the department store was completed in 1989 and opened to the public in 1990, attracting something like 40,000 people per day. After 3 years of operation, Lee Joon finally agreed to meet local citizens’ complaints that the air conditioning units on the roof were too noisy. I remember this since we had a project in Gangnam at the time. I recalled seeing it in the local news that the neighboring community was protesting the store. Lee Joon made it into a PR stunt suggesting that he was meeting community needs. But instead of replacing the air conditioning units with newer, quieter models, he ordered his staff to move the existing ones to the other side of the building away from the residential apartments. And rather than acquiring hoists capable of lifting the units, Lee Joon ordered that they be moved across the roof on rollers.

Gordon stood up and walked over to the boardroom window. He took a deep breath. It was a very tiring evening. He looked toward the hospital where Tony would have been taken. He turned to look at his partners and continued. As the heavy units were dragged across the overloaded roof, significant cracks appeared within the floors below. The authorities received new information from their investigators yesterday. Apparently, the air conditioning units were placed over column 5E where most of the visible cracks were noticed on the 5th-floor by inspectors before the collapse of the building. To make matters worse, the units were now placed over columns that did not align well with supporting columns on lower floors. The weight of the 5th-floor structure wasn’t effectively supported by the columns. Instead, the 5th-floor load was transferred onto the McGrath-patented flat slab.

Gordon stopped for a brief moment. His eyes began to well up with tears, but he wasn’t going to cry in front of his partners. In April 1995, cracks began to appear on the 5th-floor. As the structure on the 5th-floor made banging noises for hours before the collapse, Lee Joon was more concerned about daily retail sales and continued to operate the store until its collapse without making any repairs or warning his shoppers or staff. Although the structure stood for 5 years, the structure collapsed yesterday killing 502 and injuring 907 people. Lee Joon and his executives are now under arrest. Upon hearing this news last evening, Tony took it personally. He blamed his design and signing off on the work. That was back in 1987.

Oh my god, what a horrible story, said another female partner.

Gordon looked out of the boardroom window toward the horizon. The early morning colors of summer were beginning to sharpen. He could see the Tufts Medical Center off in the distance. Tony would have arrived by now, he thought. The partners spoke amongst themselves. He decided to slip out of the meeting and join Emily at the hospital in case they needed his help.

Gordon arrived at Tufts Medical Center and upon entering sought out the cafeteria. He knew that Emily would need a coffee. He too needed another shot of caffeine. He was growing extremely tired, but his adrenaline was keeping him awake.

I brought you a cup of java, Emily, said Gordon upon seeing her sitting near the nurse’s station. Where is Tony?

They are prepping the room for him and have taken him for an MRI, said Emily quietly. He hit his head hard. Emily was in a smart green winter coat. Her evening attire from the dinner at the club was still beneath. She was in black high heels. Her hair was messed slightly from the ambulance. She was pale and tired-looking.

Yeah, he probably did, said Gordon in agreement.

What happened, Gordon? asked Emily. Her