by Philip Cox
‘And that’s so easy on a Friday night,’ Chrissy replied as they left the house, Will locking and bolting the front door. ‘I’ve done the back, by the way, before you ask,’ she added.
‘If we can’t get a cab,’ Will said, ‘we could always walk.’
‘Walk?’ exclaimed Jake. ‘But they live miles away. Can’t we take the car?’
‘Not exactly miles: half an hour, tops. And we can’t take the car: Mom and I want to drink. Anyway, there’s one there. Taxi!’ He rushed into the street to hail the cab.
EIGHTEEN
Dan and Jia Gleave lived in a condo on Elizabeth Street, which straddles Chinatown and Little Italy. Their building was on the corner of Hester Street, at the Chinatown end of Elizabeth. The commissionaire at the entrance called up, and showed them into the elevator. As they were whisked up to Dan’s floor, Will always wondered how his friend and partner managed to afford this place. Maybe Jia’s family had money.
‘Hey guys,’ Dan said as he opened the condo door for them. ‘Come in.’ He greeted Chrissy and Louise with a kiss and Will with a handshake. To Jake he said, ‘How’s it going, Jake? Clyde’s in his room.’
Jia was in the kitchen, chopping up peppers. She greeted Will, Chrissy and Louise.
‘Something smells nice,’ Chrissy said.
‘I’m making seafood Cajun gumbo.’
‘Mm, lovely,’ Chrissy said. ‘Need any help?’
Jia passed Chrissy a knife. ‘I hope you all like,’ she said to Will.
‘I’m sure we will.’
‘I like to have a break from the norm now and again,’ Jia said. ‘Dan doesn’t always find Chinese food filling. He seems to be hungry an hour later.’
Will looked over at Dan, who nodded in agreement. Will smiled slightly, recalling the old joke he heard in High School that if a guy has sex with a Chinese girl, he can get a hard-on half an hour later.
‘Beer? Wine?’ Dan asked. Will took a beer.
The condo was open plan, and while Jia, Chrissy and Louise were in the kitchen area, Dan and Will wandered over to the other corner. Through the wide, full length window, Will could take in the view of Lower Manhattan, with the silhouette of One World Trade Center against the setting sun. He momentarily reflected on how different the view was when he first moved to New York and what he was doing on that day.
‘Will,’ Dan said, ‘tell me more about your experience in the mall Sunday. You told me some the other day, but just run over it again.’
‘There’s not much to add to what I told you,’ Will said, recounting the events at the mall. He didn’t bother to tell Dan about the white and green card; in fact, since Chrissy had told him about the other houses being burglarized, he had hardly given Carmine DiMucci another thought.
‘Jeez,’ Dan said quietly. ‘Pretty scary, yes?’
Will nodded. ‘More for the fact that I had Louise in the stall with me.’
‘It’s not been your week, has it? What with that, and the break-in. You must be well known to the police by now.’
Will laughed. ‘Different precinct. Actually, Dan, while we’re here, there’s something -’ He stopped as the others came over.
‘What?’ Dan asked.
‘After we’ve eaten,’ Will said.
‘Almost ready,’ Jia announced. ‘Louise, baby: would you mind telling Clyde and Jake that dinner’s ready?’
‘Yes please,’ Louise cried inexplicably and ran off to get the boys.
After the dinner of seafood gumbo followed by chocolate ice cream, the boys returned to Clyde’s bedroom and Jia put a movie on the television for Louise.
‘She’s almost asleep,’ she remarked to Chrissy.
Chrissy nodded. ‘Long week. If she falls asleep we can carry her down to the cab home. Here: let me help you with those,’ she offered as Jia began to collect up the dishes.
Dan watched the two women in the kitchen. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’ he asked softly.
‘It’s about Clyde,’ Will said. Dan frowned slightly. ‘We were wondering what you and Jia do about computer security with him. You know: while he’s in there online.’
Dan’s frown left him. ‘Oh, that. Jia’s the expert on that.’ He called his wife over. Chrissy followed.
‘Will was asking about what we’re doing about the boy’s internet activity. I told him you’re the expert.’
Jia nodded, sat back down and poured her and Chrissy another glass of wine. ‘How we protect him, you mean?’
Will and Chrissy both nodded.
Jia took a sip of wine. ‘A while back, both Dan and I were concerned about what he was getting up to on his own in there. Not that we suspected anything; just that we didn’t know…’
‘Or plain didn’t understand,’ Dan cut in.
‘That’s right. Well, one day, I got to talking with another mother at my father’s restaurant, and she got me in touch with a sort of parents’ group that meets in Chinatown every month. Around the beginning of the year they got a couple of guys - no, a guy and a woman, it was - from the FBI’s cyber crimes division to come and talk to us.’
‘So now Jia’s an expert in cyber crime,’ Dan laughed.
Jia shot him a stare of disapproval. ‘Not exactly. But I did take on board what they told us, because it is important.’
‘Absolutely,’ Chrissy agreed, taking a sip.
Jia continued. ‘They started by talking about social media sites, and the dangers there. Sites like Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr; but also places like MeetUp, Tagged, ClassMates, which parents don’t always know about.
‘Basically, they said every teenager is pissed off about something. Isn’t that right?’
Will and Chrissy nodded.
‘The guys who are out there grooming the kids,’ Jia went on, ‘are a kind of shoulder to cry on; they empathise with the kids. They pose as their contemporaries; they are aware of kids’ latest tastes in music, hobbies, and interests. After a while, they begin to slowly lower the kids’ inhibitions by gradually introducing sexual content into the conversations.’
‘Sons of bitches,’ said Dan. Will agreed.
‘They are also evaluating each kid for future face to face contact. And they’re not necessarily dirty old scumbags in a filthy raincoat. The FBI guy gave us an example of a case in Denver where a twelve year old boy was sexually groomed by a nineteen year old.’
‘Dear God,’ said Chrissy. ‘He was just a kid himself.’
Jia nodded. ‘There are things we have to look out for, warning signs.
‘If our children are spending a lot of time online, especially at night. The greatest risk is in the evening. The creeps are probably at work during the day.
‘Have our children got pornography on their computer? It could be straight porn, or gay. Or child porn. And not necessarily between humans. Anything.’
‘I feel sick,’ said Chrissy.
‘So did I. Then there’s the matter of phone calls. Kids might not actually give a stranger their phone number, so the creep might give them theirs, and use Caller ID or Star 69. Or get them to call collect, or use toll-free 800 numbers. That way the parents don’t even know about the calls.
‘Does Jake get anything in the mail you can’t explain?’
Will and Chrissy looked at each other. ‘He hardly gets any mail,’ she said.
‘Good. Does he turn off his computer when you enter his room?’
Will took a deep breath. ‘Most times, yeah.’
‘Is he withdrawn? He doesn’t seem it, to be honest.’
‘No more than any other teenage boy,’ said Chrissy.
‘Goddammit,’ said Will. ‘What can we do about all this?’
‘The FBI guys said there’s plenty parents can do. First, you need to talk to him about the dangers online. He’ll probably laugh it off. Then you need to check what’s on his computer. Bear in mind he might have saved stuff to a disk or a thumbdrive or cyberspace.
‘Make use of Caller ID. You can also monitor access to chat rooms,
instant messaging, etc.’
‘How do we do that? He knows more about IT than Will and I combined.’
‘You can use Parental Controls and blocking software. You can register Jake as a child. Then go to Settings, opt for Family Settings. You can block inappropriate websites, games and apps. You can also limit the amount of time he spends on the internet.’
‘Really? How do we do that?’
‘There’s a screen which lets you set out parameters for use, such as not before 10am and not after 9pm, and a maximum of two hours a day, for example.’
‘We’ve done all this for Clyde,’ Dan said.
‘It makes me shiver,’ said Chrissy, looking over at Louise who was dozing on the sofa in front of a Disney movie. ‘To think of all those disgusting men at the other end of…’
‘That’s only half of it,’ said Jia.
NINETEEN
‘What else could there be?’ asked Chrissy. ‘My God, isn’t that enough?’
Jia topped up Chrissy’s glass. Will declined a similar offer from Dan. ‘What I’ve been talking about is what the FBI guy called traditional cyber crime. Kids being groomed by another normally older person. And I know you guys are not going to want to hear this, but we’re all talking on the basis that Jake - and Clyde - are potentially the ones being groomed. How do we know that our teenage sons aren’t online to some ten year-old?’
‘Jesus H,’ said Will; Chrissy just looked helplessly over at him.
‘Anyway,’ Jia continued, ‘that’s just part of it. The guys also talked about radicalization.’
‘You mean Al-Qaeda, that kind of thing?’
‘Partly, but it could be Al-Qaeda, Islamic State, but also home-grown terrorist groups, or even traditional gangs.
‘They told us things we as parents could look out for. Any signs that any beliefs they might hold are under threat; do they talk about conspiracy theories, or show a mistrust of mainstream media? Have they become secretive; do they quickly switch screens when you enter the room? Have you noticed them with any devices - phones, tablets, you know - that you haven’t given them? Have they become emotionally volatile?’
Chrissy looked over at Will. ‘Well, to be honest - thank God – none of those. Apart from the secretiveness and hiding the screen.’
‘Which could be normal teenage boy stuff,’ Will replied. He looked over to Dan. ‘So, all we need to do is a few things in Settings?’
‘Does he have his own email address, his own account?’
‘Yes, he does.’
‘But is it a secondary account?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Is the main account - the primary account - in your name, or Chrissy’s? And you just added an account for Jake?’
‘That’s right, yes.’
‘Then it’s simple. Have you upgraded to the new Windows platform yet?’
‘No.’
‘Perfect. Upgrade – Jake will appreciate what that’s all about. Then you can make those changes and tell him sorry, Jake; it’s all part of the upgrade.’
‘But won’t he be able to override all Will does?’ Chrissy asked.
‘Only if he knows your password. Or if he guesses it. Tell me it’s not something like Loulou?’
Will looked sheepish.
‘Then you’d better get it changed, PFQ,’ said Jia.
Chrissy nodded. ‘We will. He will. And you’ve already done all this for Clyde?’
‘You bet we have. And what’s more: I even get an email every week telling me what he’s being doing, where he’s been going, online.’
Will and Chrissy looked over at each other. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said.
Dan said, ‘And the beauty of it is, he’ll be enthusiastic about an upgrade, so he should accept the changes that come with it.’
Jia got up and walked over to Clyde’s room. Knocked and peeked in. When she returned to the table she said, ‘They’re playing a game. Aliens vs. Predator, by the look of it.’
‘That’s a relief,’ Will said. ‘Something normal.’
Chrissy looked at her watch. ‘I think it’s time we called it a night. Will, you’re going to have to carry Louise.’
Jia walked back to the kitchen. ‘Best to phone for a cab. You’ll never hail one round here this time of night. I’ll tell the boys another ten minutes.’
Jia booked them a taxi for half an hour later. Jake reluctantly left Clyde playing AvP, and Will carried a still awake, but very drowsy, Louise down to the street. The ride home in the cab took less than ten minutes, but neither Will nor Chrissy said a word during the journey. They both stared out of their respective windows, deep in thought.
TWENTY
Chrissy walked briskly up Hudson Street. It had turned cooler the last couple of days, and the late summer heat wave had given way to cooler, fresher autumnal mornings. As she hurried past James J Walker Park on her right the green and brown dried leaves from the park blew across the sidewalk in the breeze. The next cross street was Leroy: on the corner of here and Hudson a woman she recognised - one of the other mothers from Louise’s school - was also waiting to cross. They each smiled, mumbled a greeting and stared ahead, waiting for the walk sign. When it appeared, Chrissy stepped off the kerb quickly, determined to get ahead of the other woman. She was in a hurry and had no time to chat.
When she finally turned into Charles Street her pace quickened even more. Crossing the road, she quickly stopped as a cab sped past, sounding its horn. Impatiently, she waited to let two more vehicles pass then crossed the road. Home was fifty yards further on.
As she scurried along the last few yards, she reached into her bag and pulled out her keys. Key in hand, pointing forwards like a gun, she ran up the four steps to their front door and unlocked the door.
Breathless with exertion and excitement she pushed the door closed with her back and headed for the stairs.
Then froze.
The house was empty: Jake was at school; Louise was in kindergarten, and Will was at work.
So why could she hear footsteps upstairs?
She listened again. The houses in the street were fairly old - 1920s or 30s, she believed - and sometimes floorboards creaked; sometimes they could hear the people living next door climbing their own stairs, or even the sound of their washing machine as they did their laundry. However, the sound definitely came from upstairs.
Chrissy paused. It was over two weeks since the events at the mall, and the break-in. In those two weeks, Will had lost his paranoia about there being another break-in: he had added razor wire to the fence out back, and they had double and triple and quadruple checked all the windows and doors. Since the news that other houses had also experienced similar intrusions, Will had been far more relaxed. They had taken the advice Dan and Jia had given them about Jake too: Jake was enthusiastic about a systems upgrade and seemed to accept the limitations it made on its use. It was quite surprising really: she and Will were sure he would kick off about it. They had also wondered whether Jake had been able to override what Will had done, but Dan had assured them that as long as he was ignorant of the password, the system was secure. Will had changed the password to something less obvious. But all the feelings she had two weeks ago returned as she heard the footsteps from upstairs. Somebody was walking around. Will had said that the intruders might return, and expressed concern that the house might not be empty when they did.
Shit, she thought. Not what I was expecting.
Chrissy looked around. What should she do? She debated running into the kitchen, grabbing a knife, and running upstairs to confront the intruder. But what if they were armed? The only sensible thing to do would be to go back outside and either call Will or call the police. She had dialled 911 when she got home to find the place ransacked the other week: she would do the same now.
Her heart beating rapidly and her palms sweating, she reached for the door handle, praying that she could not be heard. Then the person upstairs coughed.
Chrissy frowned. ‘What i
n…?’ Then, still with her hand on the door handle, called out, ‘Jake? Is that you?’
A few footsteps, then the sound of the toilet flushing, then more footsteps.
‘Mom, is that you?’
With a mixture of relief and anger, Chrissy ran up the stairs. Jake was in his room, lying on his bed.
‘What’s the matter?’ Chrissy asked, not calmly. ‘What’s wrong? Why aren’t you at school?’
‘I came home sick.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Bad stomach. I got the shits.’
‘Great. Shit,’ she swore appositely, and took out her phone. Quickly sent a text.
‘You telling Dad?’
She put the phone away. ‘No, I’d just arranged to meet a friend for lunch. I was just cancelling.’
‘You can still go. I’ll be all right.’
‘No, I can cancel. They’ll understand. Do you want anything?’
‘Maybe a glass of coke.’
‘Not on a bad stomach. A glass of milk, maybe.’
Jake pulled a face. ‘Aw, whatever.’
‘I’ll bring something up when I come back upstairs.’
Chrissy left Jake in his room and went to the bathroom herself, being pleasantly surprised that it did not smell as she expected it to. She walked into the bedroom to kick off her shoes. Something was not quite right. She paused a beat to figure out what it was. Oh yes, that lacy cloth they had on the dresser was adrift. Godammit, Will was so untidy.
She tidied up, looked in on Jake one more time and went downstairs. Poured out a glass of milk, then slammed the fridge door shit. ‘Damn!’ she said.
She was about to take Jake’s milk up to him when her phone rang. It was Will.
‘Hello?’ she said sharply.
‘Hi Honey, what is it?’
‘Nothing. I’m at home. Jake’s at home, sick.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘I’d been out to the shops. Got home and found him lying on his bed. Says he’s got an upset stomach.’
‘Great.’
‘Yeah. What’s up with you, anyway?’
‘Not having a good day. I was just calling to tell you I’ll be late home.’