Scattered Graves dffi-6

by Beverly Connor

  Edward smiled. ‘‘That has something to do with sci ence fiction, right? Mother said you are a fan. We got a lot of science fiction at the family reunion.’’

  ‘‘So I understand,’’ said Diane.

  He seemed bemused by the whole idea.

  ‘‘Didn’t the report say you’re having to rewire the

  security cameras back into the grid Bryce had discon nected?’’ said Edward. ‘‘I think we can call this a grace period—adjusting back to your rule.’’

  My rule. An interesting phrase, thought Diane. ‘‘The cameras will be back in the security net tomorrow,’’ she said.

  ‘‘What I came to talk about is Izzy Wallace,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I’d like him to be part of my team. I need someone to replace Jin in the crime lab, and Izzy has expressed a desire. He’s also been very helpful and has shown a willingness to learn the process.’’

  Chief Monroe nodded his head as though he liked the idea. Diane thought it was probably a done deal as far as the police were concerned. She suspected that perhaps Izzy had already set everything in motion.

  ‘‘We have an officer who’s injured and we want to put him on a desk job,’’ said Chief Monroe, ‘‘so this will be a good move. Izzy’s a good guy. It’s a shame what happened to his family. What happened to a lot of families,’’ he added.

  ‘‘Yes,’’ said Diane. ‘‘That was one of Rosewood’s worst times.’’ Worse than now, she thought, because it was young people who died then.

  ‘‘I’ll put through the paperwork,’’ said the chief.

  Diane went back downstairs. She spotted Izzy car rying a file to one of the detectives and waved to attract his attention.

  ‘‘I’ve cleared it with Monroe,’’ she said when he walked over to her. ‘‘If you want to back out, now’s the time, before he gets the paperwork in.’’

  Izzy grinned. ‘‘When do I start?’’

  ‘‘Chief Monroe will let you know. I imagine it will be right away,’’ she said.

  Izzy rubbed his hands together and looked around the room grinning. Diane realized this was his end run around the politics and bureaucracy that hadn’t let him become a detective. He wouldn’t be a detective now, exactly, but he would look like one and on occa sion would get to do what detectives do. She really hoped this was the right course of action.

  Janice motioned for Diane to come to her desk. She held a phone next to her ear and looked as if she was waiting.

  ‘‘At first it looked like all Garnett’s reference bul lets were accounted for,’’ Janice said. ‘‘But the clerk noticed that his file had been tampered with. I told him to verify all the bullets again. I also called the gun range and asked if Edgar Peeks liked to collect rounds. He did. Interesting, huh?’’ said Janice. She looked happy.

  ‘‘This looks like a good lead, then,’’ said Diane.

  Janice nodded. ‘‘I’ll let you know when I find out anything.’’ She got back on the phone and Diane left for the museum.

  The desktop screen with all the little rows of soft ware icons was still showing on Jefferies’ computer when she walked into her office sitting room. It looked as if David and Frank had not made any progress. But they both looked upbeat. There were several flash drives lying beside the computer. She pulled up a chair. Frank reached over and squeezed her hand.

  ‘‘The two of you look happy,’’ she said.

  ‘‘We’re making progress. David and I pooled our decryption tools,’’ said Frank. ‘‘David has written some impressive ones himself.’’

  ‘‘Is that what’s on all the flash drives?’’ she said.

  Frank nodded. ‘‘We had an idea. Neva’s gone over to the crime lab to get a gadget the mayor had.’’

  ‘‘A gadget?’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘You’ll see,’’ said David. ‘‘At first we thought it was a webcam. Actually it is a camera, but I noticed the other day it is also something else. In the mean time, Frank and I have been able to get into several programs. Unfortunately, none of which does us any good unless we want to play solitaire or work in Pho toshop. We can’t get into word processing, spread sheets, calendars, or anything that might have useful information in it.’’

  Neva came through the door carrying a box and handed it to David. He opened it and took out what indeed looked to be a webcam. The labeling on the box said it was an iris scanner.

  ‘‘Iris scanner?’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘The mayor liked gadgets. He had a lot of them. Most of them we left in the house, but we brought all his computer gadgets here. The picture on the box looks like a webcam and I didn’t actually read the box. Or rather, it didn’t register until now. Frank and I were talking about all the kinds of security measures that could be in effect, and it just hit me,’’ said David. ‘‘Did you get the photographs too?’’

  ‘‘Of course,’’ said Neva. She handed Frank a folder. ‘‘Photographs?’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘Of all the principals involved,’’ said David.

  Neva pulled up another chair, and they all sat around the computer.

  ‘‘Where is Rikki?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘She requested the day off to show a friend the museum,’’ said Neva. ‘‘David, being in charge in your absence, gave it to her. She’s probably lurking some where here in the museum. The crime lab is being cleaned. Jin agreed to babysit it while TechClean’s in there doing their thing.’’

  David connected the camera cable to the USB port and immediately the software came up on the screen.

  ‘‘This is good,’’ David said.

  ‘‘Very good,’’ said Frank.

  ‘‘What are you going to do?’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘We’re going to see if the camera will recognize Jefferies’ iris pattern,’’ said Frank.

  ‘‘It doesn’t seem like it would be much use as a security device if you can use a picture instead of the real person,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘It’s not made for unsupervised applications,’’ said Frank. ‘‘If the pictures are high-resolution enough, we should get some action.’’ He smiled at her.

  Frank apparently enjoyed this part of his job— decryption. In that respect, he and David were two of a kind.

  David selected a full-face glossy publicity photo of Jefferies. He put one eye in the photo in front of the camera lens. A large image of the eye appeared in one window of the software. Another window printed a message and played accompanying music—the first line of the song ‘‘Bad Boys.’’

  ‘‘That’s interesting,’’ said Frank.

  ‘‘Are we making progress?’’ asked Neva.

  ‘‘We are,’’ said David, grinning. ‘‘We now have es tablished a dialogue of sorts.’’ He rubbed his hands together.

  It reminded Diane of Izzy. She told them she had arranged for Izzy to join the team.

  ‘‘Did I hear someone mention my name?’’ said Izzy, walking through the door.

  ‘‘I suppose Andie will let just anybody in here,’’ said Frank. ‘‘You’re going to have to speak with her, Diane.’’

  Frank shook his hand and congratulated him. Izzy pulled up a chair and sat down on the other side of David. All the team were there now except Jin. Diane didn’t think another person would fit around the computer.

  They tried a photograph of Peeks. Same message.

  ‘‘What does this mean?’’ said Diane. ‘‘I don’t think this is how the mayor would have it set up.’’

  ‘‘Maybe you have to hold it longer,’’ said Neva. ‘‘Don’t you have to wait several seconds? And isn’t there supposed to be some sort of laser scanning the eye?’’

  ‘‘That’s what I was wondering,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘You’re thinking of retinal scans,’’ said David. ‘‘Not the same thing. A retinal scan shines a low-energy infrared light into the eye and reads the pattern of blood vessels. We are just reading the pattern of the iris. It only takes a second.’’

  ‘‘Still, this thing
doesn’t sound friendly to Jefferies or Peeks,’’ said Diane.

  ‘‘No,’’ said Frank, ‘‘it doesn’t.’’

  David tried the photograph of Peeks again. Same message.

  There was silence around the table.

  ‘‘Well, watcha gon’ do?’’ asked Neva, giggling.

  ‘‘It’s still progress,’’ said David, unfazed. ‘‘We know it’s reacting to them. I may be able to use this program to worm my way into some of the others.’’

  Diane got up and looked over David’s shoulder at the readout, as if maybe there was something in the lyrics of the song that would help. As she leaned in closer, the readout changed, as did the audio.

  ‘‘Hello, Dr. Fallon. I’ve been waiting for you,’’ it said in that quirky machine voice.

  Chapter 41

  ‘‘What the hell is that?’’ said Izzy, recovering his voice first.

  They all turned to look at Diane. She stepped back and stared at the screen.

  ‘‘This isn’t normal, is it?’’ said Izzy. ‘‘I know I haven’t been here long, and I don’t know a thing about computers, but is this—normal?’’

  ‘‘Okay, this is weird,’’ said David. ‘‘Really weird.’’

  ‘‘It scanned my iris?’’ asked Diane. ‘‘It knows me? How?’’

  ‘‘Don’t be alarmed,’’ said the voice.

  ‘‘Well, I am,’’ said Diane, though she didn’t know to whom. ‘‘What does this mean?’’ She looked from Frank to David as if they had done this as some kind of joke.

  ‘‘We didn’t do this,’’ said David. ‘‘Honest. It knows you.’’ He gestured to the machine.

  ‘‘What does that mean exactly—it knows me?’’ said Diane.

  She looked at the scanning camera. It now looked like a little creature with a big head and one big eye and a neck sitting on small shoulders. She almost ex pected it to tell her she was going to be assimilated.

  ‘‘Let’s ask,’’ said Frank.

  David touched a key and a screen popped up for him to type in. ‘‘How do you know me?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘You are someone I trust with the information that I have,’’ said the voice. ‘‘If you are hearing me, then my plan worked. It was a long shot.’’

  ‘‘Talky little fellow,’’ muttered Izzy.

  ‘‘Who are you?’’ typed in David.

  ‘‘Who do you think I am?’’ said the voice.

  ‘‘Is it alive?’’ asked Neva.

  ‘‘That’s what I want to know,’’ said Izzy. ‘‘Is there someone somewhere listening to us?’’

  ‘‘Could it be bugged?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘No,’’ said David. ‘‘You know how I check things like that.’’

  Izzy looked quizzically at David.

  ‘‘Ask it what it wants,’’ said Diane.

  Frank laughed. ‘‘Do you know how that sounds?’’

  ‘‘Yeah,’’ said Diane, ‘‘I do.’’

  David typed in the question. What do you want?

  ‘‘I want to give Diane Fallon my information. I know you must have been looking for it if you got this far,’’ said the voice.

  ‘‘Jin is going to kick himself for not being here,’’ said Neva.

  Frank got up and went to his laptop, which was sitting on the coffee table. He started typing.

  ‘‘What information?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘Do you want to type?’’ said David getting up. ‘‘It wants to talk with you anyway.’’

  Diane sat down in David’s place at the keyboard.

  What information do you have? she typed.

  ‘‘Ah . . . that is the question, isn’t it?’’ it said—which sounded really strange in the synthesized voice.

  ‘‘I have two sets of information for you. The first is a list of names and businesses. I think you know what I’m talking about. Please be kind. Not everyone is a willing participant,’’ it said.

  Computer people? typed in Diane.

  ‘‘Yes, I think,’’ said the voice. ‘‘But it would be easier if you would write a complete sentence.’’

  Is this a list of hackers? typed in Diane.

  ‘‘Some of them are hackers,’’ it said.

  Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country, Diane typed.

  ‘‘I don’t understand,’’ said the voice. ‘‘Please ex plain.’’

  ‘‘What was that about?’’ asked David.

  ‘‘It seems awfully smart,’’ said Diane. ‘‘I just wanted to type in a non sequitur and see what happened.’’

  Give me the list, please, typed Diane.

  ‘‘Look me in the eye,’’ said the voice.

  Diane looked at the camera.

  A list of names scrolled by quickly. She started to say that it was too fast when she heard the sound of her printer on her desk in the adjoining room start to print.

  ‘‘How are you doing that?’’ she typed and said aloud.

  David laughed. ‘‘You notice she didn’t ask us,’’ he said to Frank.

  Frank looked up from his keyboard and smiled. ‘‘I noticed.’’

  ‘‘You have a local area network. I just tapped into it,’’ it said. ‘‘It’s nothing to be alarmed about.’’

  Frank got up and went to the printer in the other room. He came back with several single-spaced pages of print.

  He flipped through the pages. ‘‘I know some of these names,’’ he said, shaking his head. ‘‘There are a lot of names here, and they’re working in very datasensitive places. No wonder identity thefts and cyber crimes are up around here. They will be up all over the country. If the people are good—and I know many of them are—they can get at information all over the world through these businesses and institutions alone.’’

  David looked over his shoulder at the printout.

  ‘‘Wow, there’s your case right there.’’ He looked at the computer. ‘‘Way to go... cyberguy,’’ he said.

  Why are you doing this? typed Diane.

  ‘‘To keep people from getting their life savings sto len,’’ said the computer. ‘‘People can lose their home and not even know what happened.’’

  ‘‘You notice how comfortable Diane is talking to a com puter,’’ said David. ‘‘She probably thinks it’s an alien.’’

  Diane ignored him.

  ‘‘Well, I think it’s fascinating,’’ said Neva. ‘‘I want to know if there’s a real person on the other end of this. You know, like instant mail.’’

  ‘‘That’s a good idea,’’ said Diane.

  Neva wants to know if you are a real person on another computer talking to us, she typed.

  She made it a more complex sentence on purpose to see what kind of answer she would get.

  ‘‘Hello, Neva,’’ said the voice.

  ‘‘Oh, my God,’’ said Neva.

  ‘‘I am not a person on another computer. I am in the computer,’’ said the voice.

  ‘‘This is unbelievable,’’ said Neva.

  Can we believe you? asked Diane.

  ‘‘Yes. But that doesn’t help you, does it? I could be lying,’’ it said.

  You sound real, typed Diane, who had decided it was a person after all and felt vaguely disappointed, like she would prefer to be talking to HAL.

  ‘‘I know. That’s the beauty of it,’’ it said.

  Do you know who killed Jefferies and Peeks? typed Diane.

  ‘‘No. But you should have asked a better question,’’ said the voice. ‘‘Remember, I am a computer.’’

  I don’t know what you mean, typed Diane.

  ‘‘Good,’’ said the voice.

  Are you lying? typed Diane.

  ‘‘I am exactly not lying,’’ said the voice on the com puter. ‘‘Don’t you want to ask what other information I have?’’

  I’m sorry. I do want to know what other information you have, typed Diane.

  ‘‘You are so polite. That’s nice,’’ said the voic
e.

  I think you are real, typed Diane.

  ‘‘That is the nicest compliment you could have given me,’’ said the voice.

  ‘‘I’m not getting anything going out or coming in,’’ said Frank, looking at the screen on his laptop. ‘‘My guess is the guy is really good, or he’s telling the truth and it’s a program.’’