Once I reported my side of it, Chris took over. “After Mia left, I was able to identify Footloose and Adrenaline Rush.”
I leaned forward, waiting in anticipation for him to go on.
“We already know Neurotic Boy was van Horn,” he said. “As for Erotic Heart, I can’t find out who she is.”
This was the point at which I’d exclaimed, “What do you mean you can’t find out who she is?” I leaned back in my chair, wondering why this was so. We just had to find out her identity. Right now, she was our only lead to the killer.
“Ferrari,” Dobbs said in between bites of roast chicken. “Let Chris finish first.”
I remained silent, feeling like a five-year-old who’d been admonished by her father. From the corner of my eye, I noted Smythe giving me a look of sympathy. I blushed, thankful it was dark out and he wouldn’t be able to see the colour creeping up my face. A sexy image flashed into my mind of Smythe and I engaged in a passionate sexual act that suddenly had me quaking in my shoes.
“... So what do you think?” Chris’s voice suddenly pierced its way into my mind, thankfully dispersing what Smythe was about to do to me.
I almost jumped out of my chair. “Huh?”
“Ferrari!” This from Dobbs, again. “Pay attention, girl. Good God, I don’t know where your head is tonight.”
If only he knew. “Sorry, Chris.” I turned to him. “I was just thinking of something to do with the case. What do I think about what?”
Chris threw me a querying look but didn’t berate me. Instead, he replied, “I just explained how I found two of the victims’ identities through the ISP. I guess you tuned out of all the technical talk.”
I grabbed onto this like a lifeline. “Yes. Exactly right. I didn’t even understand it the first time round. I guess my mind wandered. But you were saying?” I could kiss the boy.
“Well, I traced the accounts for Footloose and Adrenaline Rush. Footloose is Dr Barry and Dr Weinstein is Adrenaline Rush.”
“Good work, Chris,” Smythe remarked. “Ever thought of joining the force?” He sounded quite impressed with Chris’s efforts.
Chris looked pleased. “Not a chance, Smythe. IT’s my life.”
“Yes, but the police also needs IT experts.”
I turned to Smythe and laughed. “Don’t encourage him, Smythe. If Chris went into the police force, plus worked with me on the side, we’d be the Batman and Robin of the NSW Police and you guys wouldn’t have anything left to do.”
My comment was made good naturedly and I felt pleased when Smythe joined in the laughter around the table while gazing my way with his attractive eyes.
I thought I was going to blush again, so I said, “Chris, what about Erotic Heart?”
Chris looked perplexed. “Well, this is the thing. Remember how we went through the summary of her posts?”
I nodded. “How could I forget?”
“Did you notice how her most recent post was August 2012?”
I stopped with the fork midway to my mouth, looking stunned. I put the fork back down. “Shit! Why didn’t I see this?”
“Probably too busy lapping up all the sex details,” Smythe teased.
I screwed my nose at him and thought how pleasant it was to have friendly banter without us being at loggerheads all the time. I espied Dobbs’s satisfied smile as his glance encompassed us both. But now it was back to business and I turned to Chris. “I kind of did notice the last post was in 2012, but it didn’t really register that the summary was in chronological order.”
“You’re right. It wasn’t. And at first, I thought the same as you. She was in so many threads that some posts would’ve been more recent than others,” Chris explained. “But when I went looking for some of her IP addresses, so I could crosscheck them with the log from her ISP, I couldn’t get anything after August 2012.”
Dobbs held up a hand. “Whoa. Now I’m lost. What do you mean by some of her IP addresses?”
Chris said, “When a person posts, they don’t always get allocated the same IP address. The IP addresses are kind of “leased” out to the customer when they’re on the net posting something or simply surfing around. But if they don’t use the service for a period of time, the IP’s leased to another customer. You see,” he added when he saw the frown of confusion on Dobbs’s face, “each internet service provider has a series of IP addresses allocated to them, which they rotate among their customers. So if today you post to a blog, you’ll get one IP address from your service, but if you don’t post or use the net for a while, someone else will get to use that same IP and the system simply generates another one for you when you go back online.”
Understanding dawned on Dobbs’s face. “So the IP isn’t fixed to anyone customer. It’s like ‘lent out’, right?”
Chris nodded. “Yes. As long as the IP belongs to the same internet service provider, you could have a whole bunch of different numbers over any given period of time. You know, like a usage log.”
I then jumped in. “Which means Chris has to gather a few IPs and match them with the times the person logged in and posted to the forum. Basically, he has to cross-reference the activity of the forum members and match those same exact details with the ISP logs. This way, he can pinpoint who the user is. You see, he carries out a search to find the same sequence in the ISP logs in order to confirm it’s the same user and hopefully, he can find out their real identity by getting into their accounts data.”
Chris threw me an impressive smile. “You were listening after all, Ferrari!”
Smythe shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know how you do it, Chris. It’s mindboggling. And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Chris is brilliant, Smythe. This is why we’re generally way ahead of you cops.” I winked playfully. “Well, it’s just that we move faster because we don’t need search warrants and all that red tape stuff. But back to Erotic Heart,” I prompted Chris.
“She didn’t post for just over a year,” Chris replied. “This could mean she changed her internet provider, although I still couldn’t find any other posts after this date. So it’s more probable that she decided to change her identity altogether.”
“You mean she could be using another name?” I remarked.
Smythe shrugged. “Nothing illegal about that.”
Chris concurred. “Exactly. So I’ll need more time to search for her.”
“We have two more days at sea before we reach Pago Pago,” I reminded him. “Let’s hope we can get to whoever this woman is before then. The last thing we want is another murder.”
As if on cue, when we started on our coffees, Mark Evans made an appearance. He barely spared me a smile as he approached our table with a serious look on his face. My heart sank and I knew something was terribly wrong.
“I’m glad I found you together,” Mark said instead of greeting us. “The captain sent me to fetch you.”
We all stood at once. “What is it?” Smythe spoke for us.
“One of our turndown service attendants just found the body of Dr Cliff Downes.”
“Where is it?” I asked.
“Lying naked in his bed with his throat cut.”
“He bled to death?” This from Dobbs.
Mark nodded. “It’s not a pretty sight. The ship’s doctor is currently gathering more info about cause of death to confirm how and when it happened. But he thinks the killer cut both the jugular veins and carotid arteries. So it was very quick.”
Mark looked visibly upset, but Smythe, Dobbs and I were old pros. I said, “Lead on, Mark. Although terrible, this can’t possibly top a dismembered body in a bathtub. Trust me.”
Mark looked rather dumbfounded as he started to walk and we followed. Only my group knew that I had been referring to one of my finds during the grisly gay mardi gras murders.
Chapter 18
The body of the victim was covered by a towel around the pelvic area so we wouldn’t have to see him in all his naked glory, although I d
idn’t see why Downes deserved such dignity after the way he had attacked me. Aside from this, he lay face up, his throat cut from side to side, with the bed linen around him saturated in his blood. His mouth was open in a chilling grin while his eyes were frozen as if gazing into a void of terror. He had probably seen his killer coming directly at him.
Aside from our group, only the ship’s doctor and Jerry Garcia were present at the scene. “The captain just left to make a call ahead to the authorities in Pago Pago,” Garcia informed us as he nodded a greeting and momentarily stopped taking photographs of the victim. His face looked grim. “This brings back memories of my days in homicide. One of the reasons I quit the force.”
Dobbs nodded with understanding. He could obviously relate. Smythe, in the meantime, had a quiet word with the doctor and then went on to examine the scene while he took notes. I turned to Chris to ensure he was okay. He’d probably never seen anything so horrible, but he seemed to be handling it. We stood back from the scene so as not to get in anyone’s way or contaminate any evidence.
From my vantage point, I noticed something shiny sticking out from under the bed. “Smythe,” I called and pointed with my chin toward the object.
Smythe got closer to take a look but didn’t yet touch it. “Doc, did you see this?”
The ship’s doctor moved to where Smythe was crouched and shook his head. “No.”
“May I?” Smythe asked and helped himself to a pair of latex gloves from a box, which someone had had the foresight to bring along.
“Go right ahead.” The doctor went back to examining the body.
“What have you got, Phil?” Garcia came to stand next to Chris and me, followed by Dobbs. The cabin was too small for all of us to wander about, plus the atmosphere felt oppressive.
Smythe drew out the instrument. “A scalpel,” the doctor exclaimed when he saw what Smythe held by the tip of his gloved fingers.
“You’ll have to check if any such equipment is missing from the ship’s medical centre, Doc,” Smythe suggested. “Meanwhile, we’ll run this for prints. Garcia?”
Garcia grabbed a plastic bag from the evidence kit he had with him and bagged the item.
“What if someone brought it onboard?” I suggested. “After all, we have a whole bunch of doctors running around.”
Garcia nodded. “We always run the luggage through x-ray, of course, but it could’ve been easily missed or mistaken for something else. This item can look like a nail file or some sort of hair clipping instrument. So yes, one of the convention people could have brought it onboard.”
The cabin was getting really stuffy with all of us in it, and I noticed Chris had started to go a bit green around the gills. “Why don’t we leave you gentlemen to work the scene for now? Chris and I are in the way here.” Then, I turned to a surprised-looking Smythe. “Let’s all meet up later for a catch-up.” He nodded with the hint of a grateful smile.
I took hold of Chris’s arm, in case he should faint, and turned to go. Dobbs stepped out into the passageway with us. “That’s a good thing you did, Ferrari,” he said with pride in his eyes.
“What’s that?”
“Staying out of the way willingly,” he returned with a smirk. “And no sparks flying, either! You and Smythe have come a long way.”
I grinned. “Don’t push your luck, Dobbs. Just be thankful Chris needs a breath of fresh air.”
Chris was too immersed in his own thoughts to comment and Dobbs went back inside the cabin with a smile on his face. I led my companion away from the scene.
~~~
We regrouped with Dobbs, Smythe and Garcia a couple of hours later at The Mariners’ Hub. It was almost midnight, but the staff kept the café open just for us. Rather than coffee this time, we ordered alcoholic drinks. I figured this was one night when we all needed a stiff drink.
“You’re right about the scalpel, Mia,” Garcia began while we sipped on our drinks. “Doc Jones checked the medical centre time and again, and not one piece of equipment was missing.”
“Was he able to establish time of death?”
“He said somewhere between five and seven this evening, judging by body temperature and the onset of rigor mortis.”
“I noticed the aircon in the cabin was quite cold when we first arrived at the scene,” I commented. “I guess the killer wanted to throw us off the time of death as much as possible.”
“But why do this? We still don’t know who he is,” Chris stated, sipping quickly on a multi-coloured cocktail.
I shrugged. “I think he enjoys playing around with us. But one thing is for sure.”
“What’s that?” Smythe asked. He was drinking straight whisky.
“The guy’s either a doctor or he has medical training of some kind.” I fleetingly thought of Enrico.
“You’re right, of course,” Chris piped in. “Using a scalpel takes some skill.”
“Not only this,” Dobbs put in while sipping on a coffee liqueur and cream concoction. “Doc Jones definitely confirmed the killer sliced right through both the jugular veins plus the carotid. The guy died within a minute.”
“That would explain the blood splashing all over the place, and it points to the killer having the medical knowledge of knowing exactly where to cut to get to all the arteries at once,” I stated. “But why was Downes naked?”
“Taking a nap when the killer happened upon him?” Garcia suggested.
“Was there any sign of sexual interference?” I still had Enrico in the forefront of my mind. Perhaps, the good doctor had been bi-sexual and he’d enjoyed his last afternoon delight before being dispatched to the great beyond.
“Doc said he doesn’t think so, but we’ll know more when we get to Hawaii and get the experts to take a look.” Garcia knocked back his tequila shot in one gulp. “Aside from this, there were no fingerprints I could find on the scalpel. But again, we don’t have the latest technology onboard; so this’ll have to wait, too.”
I turned to Smythe. “Any CCTV outside the cabin?”
He shook his head. “Some. But believe it or not, this guy must know exactly where all the cameras are positioned because we didn’t catch anything.”
We all sighed at the same time, feeling stumped. Then, Garcia stood. “The captain’s waiting for my full report, so I have to go.” He turned to Dobbs and Smythe. “Tomorrow, my department will run the safety information seminar with the convention group. I’d appreciate it if both of you attend. I think the group will feel more reassured knowing we have some police presence.”
Smythe sounded cynical when he remarked, “Yeah, right, after four murders.”
Garcia shrugged. “At least we can give them a few ideas on how to keep their wits about them.”
Dobbs nodded. “True. Safety in numbers; that sort of thing.”
“Well, I bid you all good night,” Garcia said, “and thank you for your hard work. It’s a good thing you people happened to be on this trip. I can just imagine how much more work we’d have on our hands if we were alone. Our department’s not equipped to handle this type of thing.” He gave us a parting smile and went on his way.
“Why is the killer getting bolder?” I played with my drink of rum and Coke.
Dobbs finished his drink and gazed my way. “You’re right. At first, there was all this skulking around, but now the guy’s walking straight into people’s cabins.”
“Which means he knew his victim,” I jumped in just as Smythe was about to make an observation that was probably the same as mine.
Smythe nodded, confirming my supposition. “Not only this, but unless Downes slept in the nude, I have to wonder whether there’s an element of sexual humiliation in there somewhere. Providing, that is, the victim was not engaged in any sexual acts pre-mortem.”
I felt a jolt of excitement at his statement. “You’re right! Remember I talked about Erotic Heart’s S&M activities? She was into humiliation. This would add to the theory that the killer is Erotic Heart’s partner and he’s se
eking vengeance in kind. Perhaps, Erotic Heart and Downes were into S&M together, hence the reason the killer wanted the victim to go in a humiliating way.”
Chris interjected, “I would hardly call slitting someone’s throat while they’re naked humiliating; it’s more like terrifying.”
“True,” I replied. “But perhaps the killer made him undress first and perform some kind of humiliating act, like begging for his life or something.”
“Then, why not cut his balls off instead?” Chris suggested with frustration. “That’s humiliating enough.”
It was obvious the events of the evening had affected him more deeply than they had the rest of us. I became concerned. After all, Chris had recently turned twenty and he’d probably never seen a dead body. “Chris, I think you should get some rest. I’m going to have some homework for you to do in the morning.”
This seemed to perk him up. Anything to do with IT, he could handle. “What is it you want me to do?”
“I want you to identify which threads the victims were most active in, and see if you can find a link between them and Erotic Heart. At the moment, we have all the victims, except for Downes, posting on the forum. But we need proof they actually engaged in sexual activity with Erotic Heart. Not only this, I’m sure Downes is in the S&M forum somewhere, but you’ll need to come up with his username and link him to Erotic Heart.”
Chris looked a lot more animated as he stood. “I’m off to work on this right now. There’s no way I can sleep after seeing that guy’s blood all over the place. I’ll see you in the morning.”
When Chris left, I remarked, “This is my fault. I should watch out for Chris more closely, but he’s so clever and mature that I sometimes forget he’s so young.”
Dobbs patted my arm in reassurance. “Mia, you’re doing your best. And don’t worry about the boy; he can handle it.”
“Yeah, well, let’s hope his father doesn’t chew off my head for exposing him to all this.”
Smythe remarked, “Mia, don’t forget it was Mr Rourke who suggested we investigate in the first place.”
The South Pacific Murders Page 17