Invasion of Privacy: A Deep Web Thriller #1 (Deep Web Thriller Series)

by Ian Sutherland

  “I don’t get it, Derek. There’s got to be more to it. Why would they arrest you?”

  On the screen, Hilary Saxton was pouring water from the kettle into two mugs. Derek sat cross-legged on the floor, holding Izzy’s hands as she bounced excitedly up and down in an elastic harness suspended from the doorframe.

  “Because there’s some evidence they found at the scene which gave the impression that I had invited Anna to the office.”

  “But it wasn’t even your office.”

  “I know. That’s what I told the bloody police.”

  “So why does this evidence link to you?”

  “I don’t know the specific details.”

  Jenny growled, “He bloody well does. He’s just trying to avoid his wife finding out about his affair with Audri.”

  “Well, there’s definitely something fishy going on,” said Hilary Saxton.

  “Definitely,” agreed Derek Saxton. “And anyway, some other girl was murdered the other day somewhere else. They think it was the same killer.”

  “Which brings me back to my original question. Why were you arrested? What aren’t you telling me Derek?”

  “Da-da!” exclaimed Izzy brightly. “Da-da!”

  “Yes, it’s your daddy, Izzy-Wizzy,” said Saxton, in a silly voice. “Who’s a clever girl?”

  “Derek. Don’t ignore me,” instructed Hilary. “And don’t call her Izzy-Wizzy.”

  Still sitting on the floor, Derek turned his attention to Hilary, leaving his daughter to her bouncing. “Listen to me, Hilary. I have no idea why they arrested me. But it’s all over now.”

  “It’s not over for Audri’s mother,” sighed Hilary Saxton. She handed her husband a mug of tea. “It’s just beginning for her. I talked to her earlier. She hasn’t seen Audri in over a year, no contact or anything. And now she’s flying over to collect her dead body.”

  “That’s terrible. She’s not staying here, is she?”

  “I did offer, but no, she doesn’t want to. She’s staying in a hotel in Watford. But she’ll pop over to pick up some of Audri’s things though.” Hilary sat down next to her husband and cooed at their daughter. After a moment she remarked, “You know, she said she knew something terrible would happen the day she watched Audri leave Sweden on the ferry. Imagine if it was our Izzy.”

  Saxton reached his arm around his wife and pulled her to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder. They sat there quietly. Brody thought he could hear sobbing.

  Brody looked up from the computer and caught Jenny’s eye. Her brows were furrowed in confusion.

  “We shouldn’t be watching this,” she said. “It’s not right.”

  Brody put the PC into sleep mode.

  “Let’s give them a couple of minutes before we ring the bell,” he suggested.

  After a few moments, the silence in the car became uncomfortable. Brody broke the silence. “What evidence was Derek talking about?”

  Jenny hesitated and then brought him up to speed, giving him the bare facts. Brody learned how Audri had received a hand-delivered typed letter in Derek’s name, deceiving her into going to what she thought was his office to continue their affair. How she had followed the instructions and left the Saxton household by taxi in little more than an overcoat. How more instructions awaited her in the meeting room getting her to strip naked and effectively immobilise herself. How she had been brutally raped and killed. How Derek Saxton admitted to the affair and the sex games, but that he had an alibi for the evening. And how the DNA of the recovered semen did not match the DNA taken from Derek’s cheek.

  Brody tried to make sense of these events. It was all so alien to someone who lived mostly in cyberspace. Life and death were not concepts Brody ever thought too much about. As he listened to Jenny, he began to appreciate how disengaged he was from reality. This was a life cut short of a beautiful, sexy young woman that he had only yesterday witnessed full of verve. It was difficult to comprehend.

  Brody mentally pulled himself together and forced his analytical brain to take over. He asked about the first murder and received a similar set of bare facts. This time the victim had been another pretty young woman. She was called Anna Parker and was a nineteen year-old cellist in a music school. She too had been lured to a Flexbase meeting room — although in a different building — on false pretences, this time exploiting her lifelong dream to play in an orchestra. She had thought she was attending an important audition, but was raped and killed in the same way as Audri. DNA proved that the same perpetrator had committed both crimes.

  “Can’t you just match the DNA to some big brother police database?”

  “He’s not on file. Which means he’s not been arrested before.”

  “What about a familial search?” Brody was aware that it was possible to use DNA to search for close biological relatives as the genetic data from family members has more in common.

  Jenny raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Watch a lot of detective shows do you Brody? I’m impressed. We’ve kicked one off, but I’m not expecting a result. We only have 5% of the UK population in the database.”

  Brody thought about the two murders. The common factors. There was something they were missing. His brain was closing in on something; he could sense it, just out of reach. He needed to tease it out.

  He went back to basics, hoping to find his way to the missing link. “So, your priority is to identify a connection between the two victims. Someone both of them knew . . .”

  “Yes, go on.”

  “But there isn’t anyone obvious.” He stopped his line of thought and asked a specific question. “I take it you’ve not found a direct link between the first victim and Derek Saxton?”

  “Correct.”

  “But it has to be someone who knew an awful lot of personal information about both victims in order to set up such convincing charades. Like a psychiatrist or counsellor or something?”

  “We haven’t come across anyone like that. Not yet anyway.”

  “A lecturer would know Anna’s dreams. Did Audri go to school or University? Maybe a teacher working more than one school?”

  “No.”

  Damn, this was difficult.

  But then it occurred to him that, in a way, both girls had been social engineered to do something they wouldn’t have done otherwise, just like he did all the time. Although in his case, he usually only tricked his targets into divulging information he could use for another purpose. But the principle was similar. Someone had used privileged information, in this case about both girls’ individual hopes and dreams, to make them walk willingly into a situation where they would be alone with their killer. Like lambs to the slaughter. He needed to approach this as if it were one of his own social engineering attacks. How would he go about finding out if someone was having an affair that involved over-the-top sex games? Or find out about someone’s personal ambition to play in an orchestra?

  “You’ve checked out all the social media sites both girls used? Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, that kind of thing?”

  “Yes, we have. No obvious links between them.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. What about if they shared information about their hopes and dreams? You know, Anna’s desire to play in an orchestra? Something that the killer could use to make the scam work.”

  “Yes, we’ve checked. And there’s nothing like that so far. And anyway, Audri was hardly likely to talk about her sex games with an older man on Facebook.”

  “You’d be surprised what people put on Facebook.”

  “Perhaps, but no, we’ve found nothing.”

  Brody continued his line of thought. He was sure he was onto something.

  And then it clicked into place. It was staring him in the face. There was something he would need to check, but —

  “This is harassment, this is!” a booming voice shouted.

  Brody looked up startled. Derek Saxton’s face was leaning down to the driver side window. Jenny visibly jumped but recovered quickly,
opening the door and stepping outside.

  “We were just coming in, Mr Saxton,” she said coolly. “We have a few more questions for you.”

  “Well, you can stick your questions where the sun don’t shine. I’ve had enough of you lot.” He turned and walked off in the direction of his now open gate.

  “Are you sure you want to walk away, Mr Saxton?” shouted Brody, also climbing out of the car.

  Saxton halted and looked back. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m just someone who spends far too much time on the Internet,” Brody retorted. Saxton doubled-back a few steps and loomed over Brody. He was massive.

  “What are you on about, mate?” Saxton’s teeth were bared. Brody was suddenly convinced this was going to get ugly, but he stood his ground. The adrenaline coursed through his bloodstream. He could hear his own blood flowing inside his ears. Everything slowed down.

  “Mr Saxton, we really do have some questions. Can we please come in and talk to you,” persisted Jenny. “Calmly.”

  Saxton clenched his fists. He glared at Brody. His pupils were like pin-pricks. Brody knew he was about to be punched. It was like the school playground all over again. He thought he’d left that life way behind. Brody tensed his body.

  “Yes, of course you can come in,” said a female voice from further away. It was Hilary Saxton, standing by the open gate, her baby daughter in her arms.

  Saxton pivoted around. “Hilary, no! I will not allow this. The police had me in a cell all fucking night and I do not have to put up with this shit.”

  As if Saxton hadn’t spoken, Hilary asked, “Would you like tea, officers?”

  * * *

  They sat around the rustic kitchen table. Four steaming mugs of tea, a bowl of sugar and a matching jug containing milk were the only items on the wooden surface. Mr and Mrs Saxton sat on one side, Jenny and Brody on the other. Hilary Saxton had placed the baby in a playpen full of toys in the living room.

  Surreptitiously, Jenny glanced up above Mrs Saxton’s head in the direction of where she thought the webcam was, but could see nothing obvious. On the wall was a painting of fruit and just above it on the ceiling was a smoke detector.

  “So what’s the new information?” demanded Saxton. He had calmed down a little since the confrontation outside.

  Jenny had been impressed at the way Brody had stood his ground against the massive ex-rugby player. It had been touch and go. Jenny had seen far too many testosterone-fuelled fights in her time as a police officer and knew that Saxton had been moments away from decking Brody. Brody didn’t strike her as the physical type, but then she hardly knew him. Perhaps she was making assumptions because he was a computer geek, although she had spotted Brody’s hands jittering uncontrollably as he reached for his man bag from the car, a sure sign of someone unused to being exposed to physical violence.

  She decided to approach the subject head-on. “Tell me about the webcams in your house, Mr Saxton.”

  “What’ve they got to do with anything?” asked Derek.

  “Our nannycams?” queried Hilary Saxton.

  “We don’t have to discuss this. Our webcams have got absolutely nothing to do with anything.” He gave a loud sigh and then said, “Just drink your tea and go.”

  “Derek . . .” cautioned his wife. “We’ve got nothing to hide. Think about poor Audri for a minute.”

  Derek ignored his wife. He looked from Jenny to Brody and back. He was clearly uncomfortable with the subject. He went on the offensive again.

  “How the fuck do you know we’ve got webcams?”

  “We’ll come to that,” said Jenny. “When did you have them installed?” She deliberately went for a simple question this time, one that would generate a straight answer and hopefully lead them in the right direction.

  Hilary answered, “Just over a year ago, right after we got our first nanny. A few weeks after she started I began to worry about Izzy when I was at work. Mother’s intuition or something. One of my regular customers at the florist told me about these nannycams you could get. So we did.”

  “Did the nanny know you installed them?”

  “No. And thank God she didn’t. That evil bitch was leaving Izzy crying her eyes out in her cot, without changing her nappy or anything, while she sunbathed out in the garden. She was smart enough not to listen to an iPod, because every time I came home from work she must have heard the car on the gravel and flew upstairs to deal with Izzy. But once I saw what she was up to on camera, I came home and caught her in the act, parking up the street and sneaking in quietly.”

  “How do you access the webcam feeds?” asked Brody.

  “The installers gave us both access to a secure website, just for us,” said Saxton.

  “Would you mind showing it to me?” Brody grabbed his shoulder bag from the floor. “I’ve got my computer here . . .”

  “Sure,” said Hilary.

  Saxton closed his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head, as if resigning himself to what was happening.

  Brody opened up his tablet, ensuring the keyboard was connected, making it look like a regular laptop. He said. “Actually, I’ll need to connect to your Wi-Fi. Would you mind entering the passcode here?” He turned the computer round to face the Saxtons.

  “I’ll just get the card with the Wi-Fi password printed on it. It’s by the router in the hallway.”

  Jenny thought she glimpsed a self-satisfied smirk on Brody’s face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

  Hilary Saxton returned a moment later, handing Brody a card. He read out a series of numbers and letters as Hilary typed them in. Brody stood and walked around the table to be behind Hilary so that he could see the screen. Jenny stayed where she was. She wanted to be able to observe the Saxtons’ reactions.

  “Okay, can you bring up the website you use?” said Brody.

  Hilary clicked and typed. Brody watched the screen. Jenny watched Saxton, who was visibly squirming.

  Brody looked over to Jenny and said, “That’s interesting. They’re using a website called www.HomeWebCam.co.uk.”

  Jenny grasped that this was a different site than www.SecretlyWatchingYou.com that Brody had showed her earlier, but wasn’t sure she understood the implications. She would ask Brody later.

  “Derek, shall we use your logon?” asked Hilary.

  “I can’t remember the password,” he replied. “Use yours.”

  “I’m not sure if I can remember mine. It’s automatically entered when I log in from my own laptop.” She looked up at the ceiling as if seeking inspiration. “Hold on, I think I know what it is.”

  Saxton dropped his head. Jenny was convinced there was something else going on here. He was visibly fidgeting.

  A moment later, Brody, pointing at the screen over Hilary Saxton’s shoulder, said, “So you have three webcams in the house, do you? Let’s see. The Kitchen.” Brody turned around and waved at the wall behind him. “The baby’s bedroom. And, last but not least, the living room.” Standing behind the husband and wife and out of their line of sight, Brody raised his eyes theatrically to Jenny and silently mouthed the word, “Three?”

  Jenny confirmed, “So every day, you go to work at the florists and log into this site from your laptop so that you can observe the nanny.”

  “Yes,” she confirmed. “Derek can log in from his office but he also has a HomeWebCam app on his phone that allows him to observe from any—”

  Saxton placed a hand on his wife’s arm. “So what? I still don’t see what this has to do with anything. I want you to leave.” He stood up.

  Jenny stood up as well, but she had no intention of leaving. Instead, she walked over to the wall where the camera must be. She studied every inch and then lifted the framed painting slightly. “Is the camera inside the frame, then?”

  Derek turned around and answered smugly. “No. The camera needs a power source. It’s in the smoke detector.” Jenny looked upwards and studied the round device closely. Sh
e spotted a tiny grey bubble and guessed that was the lens. Impressive. Although she did feel a little stupid for suggesting the picture frame.

  “It’s wireless presumably?” asked Brody.

  “Yeah, it connects to the Wi-Fi network within the house and broadcasts to a receiver in a dedicated computer upstairs in my study. We access the feeds on the network video PC remotely from this secure website.”

  “It all seems very professional, Mr Saxton,” said Jenny.

  “Derek had a specialist firm do the installation. They were very good.”

  Jenny sat back down, opposite Saxton. “Did Audri know about these webcams?”

  Saxton held her gaze, his face impassive. His wife answered, “No, we never told the nannies. It would have defeated the point.”

  “Are you sure?” Jenny asked watching Saxton. Brody had said earlier that he was sure that Audri knew about the cameras. The fact that he was letting his wife answer all the questions told her plenty.

  “Of course we’re sure,” Hilary said, allowing some frustration to eek through into her voice.

  “And it’s just these three cameras in the house, is it?”

  Again, Saxton said nothing, but this time looked down in defeat as his wife answered for them both. He’d worked out that Jenny and Brody knew there were more webcams and he was powerless to stop it coming out in front of his wife.

  “Were you here the day the installers put in all the webcams, Mrs Saxton?”

  She thought for a moment and then said, “No. Derek handled it. I remember being impressed when I came home, because there was no mess at all.”

  Jenny stayed silent. She hoped Brody would do the same. He had retreated to stand by the kitchen sink and, having zoned out of the conversation, was lost in his mobile phone, keying in something with both thumbs. Typical geek, a second to themselves and they have to play with their toys. But at least he was leaving her to drive the questioning.

  Mrs Saxton looked at Jenny and then at her husband. She was making the mental leap from the line of Jenny’s questioning. Not quite wanting to confront what was becoming obvious, she asked her husband, “Derek, what’s going on?”