Neil Knight Private Dick

Cogito Ergo Sum

As a young boy Wallace E. Tobin III had been singled out for ridicule.

It wasn't as if he had done anything to invite the attention of his peers, but even in one of the most prestigious boarding schools in America a hierarchy had to be established, and Wallace had been identified as the weakest member of the pride.

He'd been stuffed in his own locker, stripped of his clothes and left in the boys bathroom, been kidnapped and tied to benches in parks all over the town to spend evenings waiting until the local police arrived to rescue him, had his school books soaked in water and left outside in the winter to freeze into solid blocks of knowledge, had been provided fake schedules each semester which had him rising early to cross the campus to attend classes that didn't exist and even had his eyebrows shaved off. And that was just in his freshman year.

By the beginning of his second year he'd retreated into his own world, no longer vocal, socially unresponsive. He no longer reacted to taunts or outright abuse from his peers. He'd built a safe place for himself where no one could bother him. He was no longer any fun as a target.

The pack moved on to more fertile ground.

His father paid for a new residential wing for the Lawrenceville School, and his son got his own private room, where he could think his own private thoughts. Wallace focused on his studies as a student in the Interdisciplinary Studies Program, where the goal was to, in the school's own literature, "answer a question, solve a problem, or achieve an understanding impossible through a single discipline alone".

He pursued courses in heuristics, poverty, cold war intelligence gathering, civil liberties, Hispanic history, religion, urban education, mythological gods and the kharma of words.

As a senior he graduated at the top of his class. Standing at the podium before his school as their Valedictorian on graduation day, he stared out at the faces of the fawning audience and spoke three simple words. The only words he had directed at his classmates since the end of his freshman year.

"Cogito, ergo sum."

He turned from the podium and retreated to his seat.

The crowd was silent.

'Where were the words of encouragement?' his classmen thought.

'We've allocated fifteen minutes for a speech in the program' considered the administration.

'We spent fifteen thousand dollars a semester to have some punkass kid say three words at my child's graduation?' the parents collectively considered.

And then the unthinkable at The Lawrenceville School in the historic Lawrenceville section of Lawrence, Mercer County, New Jersey happened.

The audience began to boo.

The crowd seemed to feed off each other.

'How dare this happen on their graduation day' they thought as the multitude rose from their seats, booing and yelling and shouting epithets.

'Where was their due? Their pound of flesh?' they thought.

There. On the stage. One-hundred-forty-five-pound of flesh. Wallace E. Tobin III.

Their displeasure increased and veins appeared in the reddening faces of the now enraged crowd. They left their seats en masse and moved forward, rich men and rich women and coddled children feeling dismissed and disenfranchised.

Acting on instinct rather than command, local law came to the rescue of young Wallace as they hustled him off the stage and into a waiting police sedan.

With the target of their anger removed the crowd stood bewildered, unsure of what to do next, until the school chancellor took to the microphone and asked the crowd to join him in prayer, taking the opportunity to vilify the young whelp who had ruined their graduation and ask that the Lord find some way to help them heal from this experience.

For Wallace though, the satisfaction was in the act itself.

His peers, their parents and siblings had needed something external to feel whole, to complete the graduation experience. They had needed a speech to validate their efforts; the money spent, and the time committed. Their actions had only supported his words.

"I think therefore I am."

He had only needed to know that he was aware that he was present in the moment. The richness of his thoughts and the insight into the human condition were validation enough.

Years later his ability to devise patterns and understand human motivations had moved the law firm of Birnbaum, Cohn & Hirschfeld of Orange County to hire him as part of their brain trust.

There was a knock on the door, and a white-haired gentleman poked his head into the sparsely appointed office.

"Forgive my intrusion Wallace" said Abe Birnbaum, opening the door a little wider. "I'd like to introduce Neil Knight, a detective who works with us from time to time. He'd like a moment to discuss a case he's having a little difficulty with in establishing motives and patterns."

A smile graced Wallace's face.

Another challenge. Something to feed his voracious power of insight.

Cogito, ergo sum.