Episode 8 - Suspicion
The commotion decreased as the emergency crews and curiosity seekers left the area. I ducked into the station hoping to avoid the news people. I had tempted fate enough for one day.
“Irma, please put the standard security feeds on the living room display.” The wall-sized screen lit up showing the outside activity in two rows of video images. After watching for a few minutes, I started a pot of coffee and began compiling a grocery list to distract myself from over-analyzing the situation. When I looked up, the cameras showed Sergeant Ramy striding purposefully toward the front door.
Ramy gave the door three sharp raps. I turned off the television and headed that way. A second set of raps followed quickly after the first. "Damn." I muttered. "Give me a chance to get there."
I opened the door and Sergeant Ramy stood there, looking at me curiously. “I was wondering where you disappeared to.”
“Bathroom break,” I said.
He nodded. "I need to take your fingerprints.”
“Excuse me?” I was surprised and annoyed by his statement.
Ramy's demeanor darkened at the implied rebuke. “We need your prints so we can eliminate them from the investigation.”
“Sorry, I thought you were accusing me of being the bad guy in this. Do I have to go downtown?”
“Nope.” Ramy replied flourishing a flat case. “We have all the modern conveniences. I can do it right here.”
“OK.” I stepped away from the door and invited him in.
“Wow,” Ramy said. “You really changed things in here. I wouldn’t have recognized the place.”
“Yeah,” I admitted with a smile. “I love the station but I also like modern conveniences.” I lead him toward the kitchen. “We can use the breakfast bar.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee as Ramy set up his equipment. “It's a fresh pot.” I said,, holding up the carafe. “Would you like some?”
Ramy paused for a moment then said, “Sure, that would be great.” I poured a second cup and placed it next to the fingerprint machine. Ramy took a sip and started the fingerprinting process.
I held a small bolt in my off-hand and used energy-enhanced perceptions to examine the electronic fingerprint machine as it worked.
"Have you ever been fingerprinted?" Ramy asked.
"Um. No, I don't think so." The fingerprinting hardware was pretty straightforward and I had to suppress an impish desire to screw with the machine as it worked. I didn't act on the impulse because I didn't want to drive to Ann Arbor to be fingerprinted.
As we were finishing, there was a knock on the door and a crime scene technician stepped into the room. He beckoned Ramy outside.
Ramy returned a few minutes later and gave me a hard stare. His genial nature was replaced by that of a calculating investigator. “The techs say there’s gunpowder residue on the back door and flattened buckshot on the ground. They found blood spatter and a blood trail leading toward Jameson Road. What do you have to say about that?”
i could feel my eyebrows raising. “Nothing,” I told him bluntly. “There was nothing on the video about guns and I was at the university when the vandalism happened. The first time I went out back, was with you.”
“Can anyone from the library vouch for your whereabouts yesterday?”
I nodded and gave the names of three people. "I was there most of the day."
“What did you do after you left the library?”
“I left the parking lot around 7 PM and drove to Steadman’s printing. Dena Thompson, the service dispatcher logged me in when I arrived. In case you need it, Steadman’s also has an electronic door record.”
“And then?”
“And then I drove home, did some maintenance work, and went to bed.”
“You didn’t go outside?”
“Hell no! Someone vandalized my house, my security cameras were damaged, and I didn't know who or what was out there. Why would I want to wander around in the dark?”
“What did you do after I left this morning?” Ramy demanded.
The Sergeant’s hard-ass attitude was starting to piss me off. “I repaired three cameras, I inspected and photographed the underside of the truck, and I called you. The video recording has a time stamp. If the Lieutenant had returned my SD card, you would know how long the inspection took.”
“How do I know you repaired the cameras?”
I picked up the TV remote and put the video feeds on the flat screen television. The feeds showed the crime scene investigators, a deputy talking on this cellphone, and the east and west driveways. “They are all working and you saw the broken cameras. L can lend you a ladder if you want to check them yourself."
"Where will you be tomorrow?”
“Well, if I follow by boss’ instructions, I’ll be in the Graduate Library finishing the book machine installation.”
“Do you have any proof of that?”
“Proof of future deeds or proof my boss wants me to finish this job before Monday?”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“You can talk to my boss or you can listen to my messages.” Moving to the answering machine, I hit the Play button. I let him listen Jerry's most recent message. “Welcome to my world,” I said bitterly.
Ramy grunted and started toward the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Sergeant Ramy?”
Ramy paused at the door. “If you talk to my boss," I said, pointing at the answering machine. "Please tell him how I spent my Saturday. It would be a small kindness.”
After the Sergeant left, I sat on the couch and watched the video feeds. I didn’t say a word until everyone had gone. “Irma, we can talk now but please maintain the electronic blackout.”
“Collin, what’s happening?” Irma asked.
“The devices under the Power Wagon are electronic snoopers--radio, telephone, cell, WiFi, maybe more. The Power Wagon was the perfect place to hide them. It doesn’t move much and I park it under the drops for phone, cable, and internet. We have to assume that our communications have been compromised. That means that the bad guys monitored your call to the security company and they know the police have photos of the vandals. Did you download anything after the vandalism?"
“Just one file. It contained background information on radioisotope thermoelectric generators.”
“You’ve gotta be shitting me!" I was incredulous. "You were researching power sources with highly radioactive fuels? That’s a great way to stay under the radar!”
“I was looking for independent, zero-maintenance power supplies that last a long time,” Irma explained patiently. “I thought you might be able to modify the thermocouples to improve their energy density and efficiency.”
I sighed resignedly. It just gets better and better.
“What’s the real problem?” Irma asked worriedly.
I sighed again. “The electronics were wrapped in some kind of organic cloth I couldn’t see through, except with a high energy probe. That type of material only makes sense if these guys know, or suspect I’m a physical Catalyst.”
“But you found the snoopers using normal methods,” Irma observed.
“That's true, but the unanswered question is whether they know that I am a Catalyst. From day one, Catalysts are trained to disappear when something like this happens. Instead, I behaved like a normal person and called the cops.”
“Why didn’t you just spoof the listening devices?” Irma asked.
“That might have been a better choice,” I admitted “but the listeners knew we found the packages. Leaving them in place would be suspicious.”
I entered the library and used the desktop computer to activate the “just in case” Darknet protocols. All of Irma’s programming and databases were routinely copied to the Darknet, the unregulated underbelly of the worldwide web; a place where all transactions are anonymous and information is impossible to track without the proper key. The newly implemented protocols would, among other things, make my electronic communications untraceable.
“Irma, new security protocols have been activated.”
“Understood, Colin.”
I sent a coded message to Natalia’s Blackberry warning her about the potential slaver threat. The Darknet protocols would send the message from a random server on the internet. After it was accessed, the message and its internet path would be erased.
I also placed a coded personal ad on an LGBTQ bulletin board monitored by the Catalyst organization. If anything happened to me, the organization would know I was having slaver problems.
Natalia responded a few minutes later, asking me to meet her at local brewpub.
“Irma, I’m going to take a shower then meet Natalia at the Jolly Pumpkin. We need to discuss our options.”
“Irma, please put the standard security feeds on the living room display.” The wall-sized screen lit up showing the outside activity in two rows of video images. After watching for a few minutes, I started a pot of coffee and began compiling a grocery list to distract myself from over-analyzing the situation. When I looked up, the cameras showed Sergeant Ramy striding purposefully toward the front door.
Ramy gave the door three sharp raps. I turned off the television and headed that way. A second set of raps followed quickly after the first. "Damn." I muttered. "Give me a chance to get there."
I opened the door and Sergeant Ramy stood there, looking at me curiously. “I was wondering where you disappeared to.”
“Bathroom break,” I said.
He nodded. "I need to take your fingerprints.”
“Excuse me?” I was surprised and annoyed by his statement.
Ramy's demeanor darkened at the implied rebuke. “We need your prints so we can eliminate them from the investigation.”
“Sorry, I thought you were accusing me of being the bad guy in this. Do I have to go downtown?”
“Nope.” Ramy replied flourishing a flat case. “We have all the modern conveniences. I can do it right here.”
“OK.” I stepped away from the door and invited him in.
“Wow,” Ramy said. “You really changed things in here. I wouldn’t have recognized the place.”
“Yeah,” I admitted with a smile. “I love the station but I also like modern conveniences.” I lead him toward the kitchen. “We can use the breakfast bar.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee as Ramy set up his equipment. “It's a fresh pot.” I said,, holding up the carafe. “Would you like some?”
Ramy paused for a moment then said, “Sure, that would be great.” I poured a second cup and placed it next to the fingerprint machine. Ramy took a sip and started the fingerprinting process.
I held a small bolt in my off-hand and used energy-enhanced perceptions to examine the electronic fingerprint machine as it worked.
"Have you ever been fingerprinted?" Ramy asked.
"Um. No, I don't think so." The fingerprinting hardware was pretty straightforward and I had to suppress an impish desire to screw with the machine as it worked. I didn't act on the impulse because I didn't want to drive to Ann Arbor to be fingerprinted.
As we were finishing, there was a knock on the door and a crime scene technician stepped into the room. He beckoned Ramy outside.
Ramy returned a few minutes later and gave me a hard stare. His genial nature was replaced by that of a calculating investigator. “The techs say there’s gunpowder residue on the back door and flattened buckshot on the ground. They found blood spatter and a blood trail leading toward Jameson Road. What do you have to say about that?”
i could feel my eyebrows raising. “Nothing,” I told him bluntly. “There was nothing on the video about guns and I was at the university when the vandalism happened. The first time I went out back, was with you.”
“Can anyone from the library vouch for your whereabouts yesterday?”
I nodded and gave the names of three people. "I was there most of the day."
“What did you do after you left the library?”
“I left the parking lot around 7 PM and drove to Steadman’s printing. Dena Thompson, the service dispatcher logged me in when I arrived. In case you need it, Steadman’s also has an electronic door record.”
“And then?”
“And then I drove home, did some maintenance work, and went to bed.”
“You didn’t go outside?”
“Hell no! Someone vandalized my house, my security cameras were damaged, and I didn't know who or what was out there. Why would I want to wander around in the dark?”
“What did you do after I left this morning?” Ramy demanded.
The Sergeant’s hard-ass attitude was starting to piss me off. “I repaired three cameras, I inspected and photographed the underside of the truck, and I called you. The video recording has a time stamp. If the Lieutenant had returned my SD card, you would know how long the inspection took.”
“How do I know you repaired the cameras?”
I picked up the TV remote and put the video feeds on the flat screen television. The feeds showed the crime scene investigators, a deputy talking on this cellphone, and the east and west driveways. “They are all working and you saw the broken cameras. L can lend you a ladder if you want to check them yourself."
"Where will you be tomorrow?”
“Well, if I follow by boss’ instructions, I’ll be in the Graduate Library finishing the book machine installation.”
“Do you have any proof of that?”
“Proof of future deeds or proof my boss wants me to finish this job before Monday?”
“Don’t be a smartass.”
“You can talk to my boss or you can listen to my messages.” Moving to the answering machine, I hit the Play button. I let him listen Jerry's most recent message. “Welcome to my world,” I said bitterly.
Ramy grunted and started toward the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Sergeant Ramy?”
Ramy paused at the door. “If you talk to my boss," I said, pointing at the answering machine. "Please tell him how I spent my Saturday. It would be a small kindness.”
After the Sergeant left, I sat on the couch and watched the video feeds. I didn’t say a word until everyone had gone. “Irma, we can talk now but please maintain the electronic blackout.”
“Collin, what’s happening?” Irma asked.
“The devices under the Power Wagon are electronic snoopers--radio, telephone, cell, WiFi, maybe more. The Power Wagon was the perfect place to hide them. It doesn’t move much and I park it under the drops for phone, cable, and internet. We have to assume that our communications have been compromised. That means that the bad guys monitored your call to the security company and they know the police have photos of the vandals. Did you download anything after the vandalism?"
“Just one file. It contained background information on radioisotope thermoelectric generators.”
“You’ve gotta be shitting me!" I was incredulous. "You were researching power sources with highly radioactive fuels? That’s a great way to stay under the radar!”
“I was looking for independent, zero-maintenance power supplies that last a long time,” Irma explained patiently. “I thought you might be able to modify the thermocouples to improve their energy density and efficiency.”
I sighed resignedly. It just gets better and better.
“What’s the real problem?” Irma asked worriedly.
I sighed again. “The electronics were wrapped in some kind of organic cloth I couldn’t see through, except with a high energy probe. That type of material only makes sense if these guys know, or suspect I’m a physical Catalyst.”
“But you found the snoopers using normal methods,” Irma observed.
“That's true, but the unanswered question is whether they know that I am a Catalyst. From day one, Catalysts are trained to disappear when something like this happens. Instead, I behaved like a normal person and called the cops.”
“Why didn’t you just spoof the listening devices?” Irma asked.
“That might have been a better choice,” I admitted “but the listeners knew we found the packages. Leaving them in place would be suspicious.”
I entered the library and used the desktop computer to activate the “just in case” Darknet protocols. All of Irma’s programming and databases were routinely copied to the Darknet, the unregulated underbelly of the worldwide web; a place where all transactions are anonymous and information is impossible to track without the proper key. The newly implemented protocols would, among other things, make my electronic communications untraceable.
“Irma, new security protocols have been activated.”
“Understood, Colin.”
I sent a coded message to Natalia’s Blackberry warning her about the potential slaver threat. The Darknet protocols would send the message from a random server on the internet. After it was accessed, the message and its internet path would be erased.
I also placed a coded personal ad on an LGBTQ bulletin board monitored by the Catalyst organization. If anything happened to me, the organization would know I was having slaver problems.
Natalia responded a few minutes later, asking me to meet her at local brewpub.
“Irma, I’m going to take a shower then meet Natalia at the Jolly Pumpkin. We need to discuss our options.”
