Dead Secret

by Peter Kozmar

  “I agree,” piped up Chris.

  “Anyone disagree?” Sprag asked. “Okay, find me images of the central character from around the date of the video and put them on the main screen.”

  The three technicians went to work and moments later images appeared on the screen of the President from around the date of the video. The images were from a time when he wasn’t in politics. However, he was highly social, very visible and loved to stop for photographs. The team had a large selection of images to work with.

  “Split screen, give me the still from the video on the left and start giving me the photos one at a time on the right.”

  Instantly the display changed and re-arranged as instructed. The first photo appeared in the right.

  “No.”

  The image changed.

  “No.”

  Each time Sprag said ‘No’ the photo would immediately be replaced. “No. No. No. No … No … No. Hold it.”

  The two images offered a similar perspective. Andy believed the two men looked the same, just different photos.

  “Thoughts?” Sprag asked the room.

  “Close, but I can see some subtle differences,” said James.

  “I think the video has been enhanced, not brilliantly, but good enough,” Kate added.

  Sprag approached Chris. “You know what to do?” He nodded and put on a set of large, bulky leather headphones. He then got on with his own tasks without looking at the large screen in front and ignored the others in the room.

  “What do you think?” Andy asked Sprag.

  “Our central character on the video is of a similar height to the photograph of the future President. However, our character from the video is packing more weight. I’d say a good five kilos heavier. His face is puffier too. What did you see?”

  “Let me zoom in on the teeth, I want to show you something,” James interjected.

  Both sets of images changed as the technician zoomed in on the mouths. Both sides of the screen were filled by images of their teeth.

  “I see it,” said Sprag, “Well done!”

  Andy could see it too. They had different dental work.

  “Take a snap shot of the teeth from the central character. We’ll need it later when we go searching for who we really have in front of us.”

  “Done!” Kate replied.

  “How’s this been touched up?” Sprag asked Kate.

  “Let me show you the hands.” The image of the central character zoomed out from his mouth and zoomed in on his hands. “I can see a blurring around the hands where the ring finger is.” Sure enough the central character’s finger showed a ring, but the image of the ring was slightly blurred.

  “What does this mean?” Andy asked.

  “Take it forward three frames,” Rick called out.

  The video advanced three frames. The ring remained blurred and not clear like the rest of the image. “It looks like the central character wasn’t wearing his wedding ring, so someone’s photo-shopped it in frame-by-frame.”

  Sprag went back to Chris with the headphones and tapped him on the shoulders. Chris removed his headphones and gave a thumbs-up

  “Okay, take it away,” Sprag said, clearly enjoying the challenge in front of him. The sound from the video filled the room.

  “You know I don’t pay for this kind of thing.” The words were loud and appeared to come from all directions. “You know. I love doing this kind of thing.” These words had no associated video and sounded as though the scene was taking place in the room. The words were spoken slower, the voice deeper with a slight nasal tone. The sentences had longer pauses the second time around.

  “Where did the second file come from?” Sprag asked.

  “One of his television appearances, so the source is authentic,” Chris replied.

  “Let’s hear them again.” The two voice files were played again, one after the other. Andy was convinced they sounded different. “Remove the words ‘don’t pay for’ from the first and ‘love doing’ from the second,” Rick requested, Chris nodded. A few moments later he looked up from his workstation and gave a thumbs-up to Sprag. “Play them together.” The two audio files played simultaneously. Although there were similarities, when the same phrase played, they sounded different, as though spoken by different speakers.

  “Put it on the analyzer.” An instant later two sets of waveforms appeared on the large screen. “Run it.” The two sets of waveforms ran simultaneously again. The digital analysis confirmed they were spoken by different men.

  Sprag faced Andy and Dortman. “I think it’s pretty conclusive to me. The central character on the video you provided us is heavier than the man who now sits in the Oval Office. The teeth are different between the two and we have seen the video has been altered by others who want to make the viewer believe it is your President. You’ve heard the audio. The President of the United States is not the man who says those words. Based on each of these facts, I’d say, in my professional opinion, the video is a fake. However, if it is supposed to be a cheap porn video with actors playing roles and one of those actors is to resemble the President, I’d say they’d done a pretty good job.”

  “Thanks, you’ve certainly done me a great favor and cleared this up for me,” Andy replied.

  Sprag looked at his small team. “Guys, do you agree, or do you see things differently?” he asked.

  “No boss,” James replied.

  “I agree,” said Kate. Chris just nodded, smiled at Rick and gave a thumbs-up with his right hand.

  “Okay team, talk to me about this one. We now know the central character isn’t the President of the United States. We can’t let this mystery remain unsolved, can we? Who is he?” Sprag left a long pause for dramatic effect before continuing, “Five hundred dollars and a weekend at Wharekauhau Lodge with your partner for the first one to tell me who he is.”

  The technicians immediately hit their keyboards as they got on with their challenge.

  They had a clear image of their target, now they just had to trawl social media and use facial recognition engines to arrive at a shortlist, then use their knowledge and professional expertise to whittle away the mismatches and find the man who was on the video. Andy continued to watch as they searched, scanned, ran applications and looked at images which continued to pop up on their screens. He was impressed at how quickly they made their decisions to reject pictures and move onto the next one.

  “Andy, Tomas, may I get you a drink? It’s after six already and I have some fine wines in our cellar. We have my personal collection, which includes wines from my own vineyards in Martinborough, Blenhiem and Central Otago. My wines are exclusive and I never release them for sale. I reserve them for my guests, cast and crew.”

  Andy was pleased at the progress Sprag’s team had made. If he’d watched the video on his laptop, he’d probably have arrived at a different conclusion – a conclusion the makers of the video probably intended. He felt the need to celebrate, however something caught his eye, it was Dortman’s stern look of disapproval, almost as though Dortman could read his mind.

  “Could I have a soda?” Andy asked.

  “And you Tomas?” Sprag asked.

  “I’m driving, so may I have a low alcohol beer?” Dortman requested. Andy swore he saw him cringe as Sprag was informal enough to use his first name.

  Sprag looked disappointed as he had wanted to show off his generous collection of fine wines. “Okay, I’ll go and get them while the team are working.” He quickly left the room. The three technicians worked at a relentless pace and did their utmost to ignore Andy as he occasionally looked over their shoulders.

  A few minutes later Sprag came back carrying a tray of soft drinks, “I’ve got cokes for the team as I know what they drink and they have to drive home after this too. Andy, you have a soda, this brand I have specially flown in from the US. Tomas, I’ve got you a low alcohol beer from one of our local micro-breweries. This is ‘Birchers’. No alcohol.”

  “Great
,” replied Dortman as he took the bottle.

  Andy grabbed his soda while the technicians took their cokes. After around ten minutes Kate looked more excited than the others. “Hey Boss, I’ve got the dude,” she announced as she spun around in her swivel chair.

  “Put them both on the big screen and show us what you have.” The large screen had the hotel video frozen on the left and to the right someone who looked similar on the right. Andy studied both images closely. The hair looked slightly different and the fake tans were a different shade of orange, though Andy thought the difference in color could have been down to the different lighting conditions when they were snapped.

  “Let’s look at the teeth,” Sprag directed. The images enlarged and the teeth from both men filled their portion of the screen. Andy believed they looked the same. “The teeth are the same,” Sprag called out, “Well done!”

  “I haven’t finished yet, there’s something else I picked up,” Kate said, clearly enjoying the fact that she had just won the prize.

  “Go on.”

  “The guy on the right has had cosmetic surgery, I found a small scar behind and below his right ear.” The image on the right remained enlarged and moved slightly so the mouth and right ear were clearly visible. Andy could see the small scar, even under the fake tan. “Now I’ll show you the guy from the video. You’ll see he’s got a scar too.” The image on the left panned around to the right ear and sure enough, Andy could see a small scar.

  “Okay team. Do we think this is our mystery guy? I think he is.”

  “Yes!” James called out, though a little crestfallen. Chris nodded.

  “I think it’s the same guy,” Andy called out.

  While Dortman just said two words: “It’s him!”

  “And now for the big reveal, our man is Carl Walker, he makes his living as a Presidential impersonator. Available for corporate events, birthday parties, film and television appearances.” Kate brought up Carl’s website which showed a scrolling library of photos and positive client testimonials.

  “You know I had him down as Carl Walker, but you beat me to it,” James called out.

  Rick intervened, “Okay everyone, there’s only one prize on offer. Only one winner, nothing for coming a close second!”

  The speed at which Rick’s small team had unraveled the video had impressed Andy. Who needs the NSA when you have a small team like this with access to social media and search tools.

  “What can you tell me about Carl?” Sprag asked the room. The three techs were quickly back at their keyboards and a few seconds later they let out a collective ‘Damn’.

  “What is it?” Rick asked the room.

  The main screen changed, now filled by an image of a death notice from the Boston Herald. It reported that Carl Walker had died. The notice was dated three months earlier. Along the right side of the screen they displayed an article from the same paper that stated Walker had taken his own life, alone in his apartment. It included interviews with some of his neighbors who reported Walker lived alone, and by all accounts, made for a great neighbor. It said Walker travelled widely across the country and once or twice went to Japan with his work. His neighbors said they’d miss his popular barbeques which he threw each summer for them. An unnamed police source said they weren’t looking for anyone else in connection with the unexpected death.

  They placed another article on the screen, this from the following day. It reported that the Boston PD had formally declared the case closed and they were not looking for anyone else in connection with the death of Carl Walker. The article also said a note had been found with the deceased.

  “Can we find the note?” Rick asked.

  The techs resumed their searches. The screen changed and displayed the handwritten note which the Boston PD found with the body. They all started reading:

  To whom it may concern.

  I would first like to apologize for you finding me like this and you having to deal with the problems I’ve caused you. I didn’t mean to be no trouble.

  For some years I earned my living pretending to be someone else. People would stop me in the street and call out the character I played. No one ever recognized me. At first I found this good, and it made me happy. But as time went on, I realized that I didn’t exist and had no identity of my own. The friends I had, always wanted me to perform for them as they found it funny. I didn’t. They wanted to be with my character, not me. This made me sad. Very sad.

  While I got me no money worries to speak of, the stress of being expected to perform like a circus animal and having no real friends took its toll on me.

  I have tried several times to end my life without success, the fact that you’re reading this letter means that I’ve been successful and now I won’t be bothered at having to perform.

  I got some money in an envelope on the table to pay for my funeral and the likes.

  Yours

  Carl J Walker

  A heavy silence descended upon the room before Dortman spoke, “Can you find any samples of Mr. Walker’s handwriting so we can compare the two please?”

  The techs typed, a few minutes passed when James broke the silence, “Yes, I found this in the National Archives. Walker had written to the President congratulating him on his win and the President replied.”

  The screen displayed the second letter from Walker:

  Dear Mr. President,

  Congratulations on your historic victory and elevation to this important office as the leader of our great country.

  While many didn’t believe you could do it. I supported you all the way through. I told everyone I met to vote for you, even those who said they don’t vote for no one.

  I’m not an emotional guy, but I cried like a baby when the result came out saying you won.

  God bless The United States of America. God Bless the President of our great nation.

  Yours,

  Carl Walker

  Rick spoke first, “There’s a difference in the signatures. It’s clearly Carl’s writing on both letters, but his signature is different.”

  “I would have thought he would have been more formal with his letter to the President or been the same in both.” Andy replied.

  “I agree,” Dortman said, “maybe he was under duress when he wrote his final letter and that’s the only way he could think of to throw out a clue.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Andy had chosen the Cuban-themed restaurant on Cuba Street based on its on-line reviews which said they wouldn’t be disappointed by the quality of the food. However, when he looked at the menu, Andy was disappointed as it lacked any of his favorite dishes like tamales, vaca frita or lechon asado.

  At the bar they ordered soft drinks and made their menu selections before being shown to a booth.

  “Why would the British be running around killing people and the CIA chase Mark from the Embassy if the video was a fake?”

  “I don’t know, but I have an idea that the Brits and the CIA don’t know it’s a fake.”

  “Maybe,” Vladim said with a small nod, as their drinks arrived. “What will you do with the video?” Vladim asked Andy.

  “When I’m ready, I’ll let the US Government know about the video being a fake, but what’s happened doesn’t make any sense. Why kill so many people? It can’t be over a fake tape because the original recording is still sitting on a server in Russia. It’s way too flimsy a reason to kill and the President would have rode out the storm … we’re missing something.”

  “How can we help you?”

  “Having you and Dortman around has been a big help and support for me. If you’d not been looking out for me, the outcome this morning would have been very different. I’d like you to just stick close by.”

  A waitress arrived with their meals, placed them on the table, smiled and left. They tucked heartily into their burritos. They were delicious, the on-line reviews were right.

  “I’m going back to Fiona Armstrong’s,” Andy said after he finished his first
mouthful.

  “Why?” Vladim asked looking a bit concerned.

  “I have a hunch that I want to follow up,” Vladim and Dortman nodded at Andy and they continued to eat.

  For the rest of the meal Vladim told them about his ferry ride and time on the Matiu/Somes Island. He’d enjoyed the visit and described in far too much detail including being met by a friendly Conservation Officer as he got off the ferry, who searched his bag for rats, mice and seeds! When they’d finished their meals, Vladim paid and they headed back to the hotel through the city among the evening drinks crowd.

  After a few minutes walking, Dortman looked towards Vladim, “We’re being followed. Silver BMW and two guys on foot. They caught my attention in the restaurant when I noticed them watching us over dinner. Now they are doing a poor job at following us.”

  “I’ve had guts full of this!” Andy turned, looked at the BMW and pointed to it. “That one?” he asked Dortman.

  “Yes. What are you doing?” Dortman replied in surprise. But Andy was already striding off towards the parked car, he moved so quickly Vladim had trouble keeping up with him and had to break into a jog.

  “What do you want?” Andy demanded as he pulled open the driver’s door. Marcel Durand sat in the driver’s seat looking as suave as ever. The two men who had been following them ran to the car; Andy recognized them from the UN Office in Plimmer Towers.

  “Mr. Flint. I was hoping to get an update from you. You were commissioned to bring your son in. Unfortunately, he’s dead, a tragic loss and I’m sorry for you, however, you now appear to be at the center of events, including a very grisly death by all accounts. So I came to find you and get an update on what’s been happening, from the horse’s mouth … err … I think that’s what you say, no?”

  Andy looked at Vladim. “It’s okay Andy,” Vladim replied, “Tomas and I will walk back to the hotel and see you there.” Andy climbed into the BMW’s passenger seat and the car took off leaving the men behind with Vladim and Dortman.