A Sense of Justice

by Jack Davis

  “That’s another thing I forgot to mention; we haven’t found him looking at any foreign wife sites, only ones here in the US. The college age and general sites are both domestic and foreign. Again, this is consistent with him choosing his victims from around the US where he can travel more easily.”

  Peyton sounded excited. “That last point is telling. He has a specific subset of one group but not the other. If he were using the photos just to get aroused, he wouldn’t care where the images came from. Yeah, I think you’re on to something with that one. I’ll send you your junior profiler certificate and decoder ring in the mail.”

  Morley couldn’t let that pass. “Hey, I was just wondering, when was the last time that you actually arrested anyone…I mean actually put cuffs on someone? Ya know what, I’ll make it easier for you: have you seen your cuffs since the last API?”

  “Some people have skill sets that lend themselves to leading organizations, outwitting terrorists, and developing strategic vision. While others lend themselves to wrestling around in the street with criminals who smell like the bottom of a zookeeper’s boot. Every man needs to know where he fits into this intricate patchwork we call the Secret Service.”

  Morley chuckled before he asked, “What exactly does Sophia look like?”

  “You always were transparent; I know exactly where you’re going. You’re trying to take this someplace base and unprofessional. Once again, your crass nature has seeped through and infected our conversation. Sophia and I have a business relationship based on mutual respect and professional admiration. The fact that she’s very attractive is beside the point.”

  “Hey Nostradamus, you and Sophia go think more deep thoughts together and solve this case for me.”

  Peyton laughed. “I tell ya, this is the most interesting thing I’ve been able to put my mind to in ages. I’ll pass this info to,” he paused, “my Bureau counterpart tonight at dinner and see if she has any more thoughts. The killer has to have made a mistake somewhere along the line.”

  “If I get anything, I’ll pass it along.”

  “Thanks, Ron, talk to you soon.”

  60 | Re-interview of Antonescu

  Johnson City, New York, 10/18/09, 1447 hours

  Updates poured in throughout the day like poll results on election night. By 1400 hours, Morley became torn between wanting to re-interview Antonescu with the new information, and not wanting to have the conversation without all the facts. There were still huge gaps in the case, including Antonescu’s voiceprint not matching that of the caller to WoW or Western Union. Those gaps might be closed within the next day or even hour, or maybe never. Morley knew there was always a better chance of getting Antonescu to confess if it was clear the agents knew everything already. There was a fait accompli attitude at that point, and a good agent would play up that cooperation would look good to the judge in sentencing. The criminal’s knowledge of their guilt had the effect of making them feel the interviewer knew more than they really did.

  On the other hand, when the FBI got more heavily involved—if they had hard evidence—Morley knew he might not get another chance to conduct the interview. And when Brown arrived the following day, his freedom to maneuver in the case would cease.

  With one of the cardinal rules of police work, never stop a suspect from talking, in the back of his mind, Morley decided to roll the dice. He wanted a confession, the one trump card that would beat all others the FBI might try to play. All the other forms of evidence were good and necessary, but Morley knew if he had a confession, the case would be difficult for their arch rival to co-op. If the Bureau got too much additional evidence, they’d have every right to swoop in and take the case. Morley felt his personnel had worked too long and hard to have that happen without taking another shot at Antonescu.

  Morley chose Greere to assist in the interview. Even with his size, Greere had a calm, likable demeanor that put people at ease.

  To start Morley reintroduced himself and introduced Greere. Then he read Antonescu his rights for the recording.

  “Mr. Antonescu, are you willing to talk to us?”

  “Yes, Agent Patrick.” Antonescu paused and politely said, “Mihai not able to answer some qvestion until friend call.”

  “Your friend? Who is that?”

  Antonescu smiled nervously. “Mihai sorry. Mihai can no say.” He quickly added, “Yet.”

  “Mihai are you aware of the charges against you?”

  The quizzical look on Mihai’s face made Morley rephrase the question.

  “Do you understand why you have been arrested?”

  “Yes. A mistake.”

  “A mistake?”

  Antonescu quickly followed up. “No agent mistake, you no know.”

  “Know what?”

  He looked down. “Mihai no can tell now. Mihai sorry.” Then in a hopeful tone, “Tomorrow maybe. Friend to call Mihai. No one calls for Mihai today?”

  “No, no calls for you. Tomorrow is Monday. You’re going in front of a judge tomorrow and you’ll have to enter a plea of guilty or not guilty. If your friend doesn’t call before then what are you going to say, guilty or not guilty?”

  Mihai looked at Morley and answered emphatically, “No guilty.”

  Morley decided to use the defendant’s cooperation to his advantage while it lasted. He knew Antonescu had been shunned for the past forty hours, based upon the belief he was involved in child pornography. Morley could tell the man was eager to talk to someone. He seemed to have the naïveté of an innocent man, who believed if he only had a chance to explain himself, his captors would see the error of their ways. Morley couldn’t help but notice the contrast between Antonescu, who trusted the American justice system, and most people he had ever arrested.

  “I see. Let’s start at the beginning.”

  “Yes, Agent Patrick.”

  “Our agents found a lot of child pornography on one of your computers.”

  Mihai shook his head vigorously. “No—”

  “Let me finish.” Ever deferential, Mihai stopped and listened. “You said the only person who used those computers was you, and the ‘bad pictures’ were on the machines. How do you explain that?”

  “Mihai no look at bad pictures of childrens.” He looked down. “Vomans, yes. No childrens. Very bad.” He shook his head.

  “The bad pictures are on a machine you say only you use. How did they get there?”

  Still shaking his head, he said, “Mihai no know, Agent Patrick. Mihai svear no look at bad pictures, ever. Please show Mihai file vhat have bad pictures.”

  Greere had a copy of Murray’s initial report. It only took a second for him to find the page with the highlighted file and directory. He answered for his boss.

  “It was on your C drive hidden in the ie subdirectory under the file name, minor edits.”

  “Mihai no know file. Mihai no look at file. Agent Patrick see Mihai no look at file. Agent Patrick look at log file. Audit log show Mihai no look at pictures. Please look audit log, please!”

  Murray had provided the audit logs in the report, and it only took Greere a few seconds to find that page. He pointed to the part of the page indicating when the files had been updated and handed the logs to Morley.

  “The audit logs show the files were accessed within the past month.”

  The look of shock on Antonescu’s face was immediate. It was replaced by confusion and then a denial. “No, Mihai no know the file. Mihai no look at bad pictures of childrens. No.”

  “You told me to look at the audit logs. I did. I have them right here in front of me.” Morley turned the page slightly so Antonescu could see it. He pointed to the section showing the time and date the file had been accessed. “They show the file was updated on the twenty-eighth of the month at…”

  Morley gave Greere a disapproving look as he pushed the folder back to him. The time was 12:01 a.m. Both men knew what the other was thinking. Neither of them liked the date or the time. It was a standard update time for pushing
content or updates to computers. It was the last day of the shortest month of the year, and it was the time when the fewest people used their computers, so it didn’t tie up the network.

  Greere was on his BlackBerry immediately.

  Morley didn’t want to get sucked into the audit log issue until he had more information. He knew Greere was asking Murray to look into it, so he decided to move on.

  “You’re telling me there are three gigs of child porn on a machine you use every day, and you, a computer technician, didn’t know about it. I find that hard to believe. A jury is going to find it hard to believe too.”

  In a low, halting voice that sounded sad, Antonescu began talking. “Is true. Mihai child in no-parents home, in Romania. Many small girls come to no-parents home after bad men have sex on them. Some girls say the bad men take picture and movie. Is very bad. Girls kill selfs sometimes. Mihai hate bad men and vhat they do to childrens. Mihai never look. Mihai svear, Mihai vould not do, Agent Patrick. Please believe Mihai.”

  Morley was surprised when Antonescu made eye contact through the entire sentence, a first. He could see the statement was heartfelt. For the first time, doubts crept into his mind. After interviewing hundreds of defendants, Morley was exceptional at discerning who was telling the truth.

  As Morley looked at Mihai’s heavy features, he didn’t see deception. He saw sincerity from the Eastern European with the two-toned nose, cheeks, and chin. Morley believed him. He was suddenly very glad he had Greere there with him. He wanted a second read of Antonescu. Morley decided to change tack until he got more information.

  “We are gonna have to come up with some explanation as to how those bad pictures got on your computer. You know enough about computers to know they didn’t just get there by magic. Can you explain how they got there?”

  “No, Agent Patrick. Mihai no know. Mihai help find reason?”

  As Morley was about to respond, Swann came in and handed him a sheet of paper. It was an extended audit log sheet for the file minor edits. At the bottom of the page Swann had a handwritten note. It indicated for the past two years the file had only been accessed once a month, never more, never less, like someone was automatically downloading the file as some type of update.

  Morley wasn’t happy. He knew Murray had located the evidence but had stopped searching once he found what he was looking for; he hadn’t taken the next step.

  Now, what had seemed like a straightforward attempt to get a scared criminal to confess to child porn, and maybe more, was turning completely around. He scribbled a quick note, Take a look at the access logs for the hacking tools. Need info ASAP, and handed the paper to Swann.

  Morley moved to another tactic to buy Swann some time.

  “Do you know what a polygr…a lie detector is?”

  “Mihai know, yes.”

  “Would you be willing to take a lie detector test about the bad photographs?”

  Mihai replied instantly, “Yes!”

  “You know the lie detector will tell us for sure if you are telling the truth or not.”

  Again, there was an unequivocal, “Yes. If lie detector say Mihai telling truth, Mihai go home?”

  “We’ll see about the going home part. We’ll set up an exam for tomorrow.” Morley had hoped Antonescu would falter slightly during that line of questioning. He moved on.

  “Do you have a background in computer programming?”

  “No…Mihai take two programmer course to get major in computer science, but Mihai no programmer.”

  “When was the last time you did any computer programming, and what language was it in?”

  “Mihai do program class year two at college. It in English.”

  Morley sighed. “I meant what programming language did you use?”

  Morley saw Antonescu blush in embarrassment as he realized what he had done. “Mihai sorry, Agent Patrick. Program langvig C. Mihai no understand vell you question.”

  Morley had an idea of the time frame that C was taught in colleges but looked at Greere for confirmation. Greere nodded.

  Morley started to think about what Antonescu had told him at the start of the interview—he might not be able to answer all of his questions. So far, Mihai had answered everything. He hadn’t hesitated on any of them. Morley wondered what questions were off-limits.

  There was a knock and Swann came in shaking his head. He leaned over and whispered to Morley, “The file has never been accessed.”

  Morley thanked his colleague and began to blame himself for trying to get a confession from Antonescu before he had all the facts. He had to decide whether to continue or stop and cut his losses. Either Antonescu was a criminal mastermind who had played him, or he was a dupe who was being set up. Morley wanted to believe the latter. He decided to keep going and get information about the murders.

  “Mihai, you said you like to look at pictures of women.”

  Antonescu’s shoulders slumped. “Yes.”

  “Are there any particular types of women you like to look at?”

  There was a pause. “…Pretty girls.”

  “Yeah, we all like to look at pretty girls, but are there any particular types of pretty girls you like to look at—blondes, redheads, young girls, older women, heavy women—any particular type you like?” Morley knew he needed to be careful. There was no special inflection in his voice when he mentioned older women.

  “Mihai like Japan vomen. Very pretty,” said a clearly uncomfortable Antonescu.

  “You like Asian women?”

  “Yes, and vomens with red hair.”

  Morley was careful not to push the embarrassed Romanian too far. “Anything else?”

  Mihai paused and looked down again. “Mihai like big breasts vomens.”

  This brought a huge grin from Greere.

  Morley decided this particular line of questioning had run its course. Antonescu’s answers were consistent with the sites and photos found on his home computer.

  “Do you ever contact the women you look at online?”

  There was a long pause. “Sometimes Mihai answers the vomens emails.”

  “So, you cooresp…emailed these women. Did they ever offer to meet you?”

  While Morley didn’t believe Antonescu would cop to visiting the murder victims, he was hopeful the Romanian might admit to some traveling. He would try and use that opening to connect other similarities such as buying a different cell phone while traveling, using assumed names—anything to help tie Antonescu to the killings.

  “Some vomens ask Mihai join club then can meet. Mihai never do.”

  “Why not?”

  “Mihai no vant.”

  “All you wanted to do was look at them online and not meet them in person. I find that hard to believe. I know if Agent Greere or I was talking with a pretty woman online and she offered to meet us, we would go. Right, Ron?”

  A startled Greere looked at Antonescu and quickly nodded.

  Antonescu looked up. “Is different…you and Mihai.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean? Guys are guys and if a pretty girl asks me to meet her, I’d do it. What’s different?”

  Mihai squirmed in his seat. He didn’t answer.

  Morley decided to press. “I don’t understand. If you have been emailing them and they have been responding, you have an idea they like you. Then they say they want to meet you. Why wouldn’t you go and meet them? I would go meet them. I don’t understand what the difference is you’re talking about.”

  Antonescu’s voice was soft. Later the audio would have to be enhanced to hear his next statement. He motioned to his face. “Mihai face is no nice like you. That difference. Vomens no like Mihai face. Nice vomen they no like Mihai face. Not nice vomen laugh or be scared.” He paused. “Mihai no vant meet vomens Mihai talk on computer. Mihai just talk on computer.” Then he went silent.

  Morley was momentarily at a loss and happy to hear Greere step in to ask a question.

  “Mihai, have you ever been to the Washington, D
C area?”

  Still in a low voice, Mihai answered, “Yes. Mihai vent vit college friends. Saw Vhite House and Vashington Tower, many museums. Mihai like Vashington.”

  Greere asked, “Was that the only time, and do you remember what year that was?”

  “Yes, only time. Three year in college for spring break time.” He thought. “1999.”

  Greere continued, “Anyplace else in the US you’ve traveled to?”

  Mihai was about to reply but stopped. “Mihai can no talk about today. Mihai hope tomorrow. After talkink to friend. Then Mihai tell.”

  Morley jumped back into the conversation. “Mihai, I think your friend would want you to talk to us. And I think he would want you to talk to us today, before we get a judge involved. You said you didn’t want to waste important people’s time; well, you don’t want to waste the whole court’s time including a judge, do you?”

  “No, Agent Patrick.”

  “So why don’t you call your friend and ask him if you can talk to us?”

  To both agents’ amazement, Antonescu asked. “Mihai can do?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you, Agent Patrick.”

  “Since you’re in jail, we have to use a special phone, in the other room. Give us a second to make sure no one else is using it. What number do you want to dial?”

  “Mihai sorry, Mihai no tell phone number today. If friend say okay, Mihai tell you?” The inflection made the statement a question.

  Morley and Greere, realizing the phone in the jail would automatically record the number anyway, went along with the enthusiastic defendant. “That’s fine.”

  Disconnected (10/18/09, 1531 hours)

  It took Greere and Murray five minutes to get the PD phone set up and test it. Morley and Kruzerski brought Antonescu into the room and handcuffed him to the grey metal desk.

  Making sure they didn’t violate any attorney-client privilege, Morley confirmed the phone call wasn’t to a lawyer. Mihai looked confused. “No.”

  Morley told Antonescu an agent would be right outside the door and when the phone call was over all he had to do was knock.

  Then Morley and Greere met the rest of the team in the adjacent room, which had a video feed from the room where Antonescu sat.