by Bill Bernico
Dad, Terry and I stopped by the twelfth precinct to pay a visit to Detective Lieutenant Dean Hollister. Dad told him that we’d located another scammer and asked if he’d bring some backup along and arrest them. He had to let us come along, since it was our company that had exposed and located them. Terry would be on the scene to help interpret computer lingo and describe what the police were looking at as far as the operations of the scammers. Dad told Dean that we’d follow him in our own car.
Terry had written the location of these latest con men on a slip of paper and I’d slipped it into my shirt pocket before leaving the office. I’d given it to Dean back in his office and now we were just a block away from the building that housed the room where the phony Internet ad had originated.
Dean and Detective Sergeant Eric Anderson stood on either side of the front door of this otherwise plain-looking house in the middle of Hollywood. Several other officers covered the back door and both sides of the house.
Dean banged on the door with his fist. “Open up,” Dean bellowed. “Police. I have a warrant.” He could hear a flurry of noises coming from inside and quickly threw his shoulder against the door. It gave and he stormed in with Detective Anderson close behind him.
Dad and I followed at a safe distance. Terry remained in the car. By the time we’d entered the main operations room, Dean had two men in handcuffs. The officers at the back door had two more in custody. The officers covering the sides of the house also came in through the back door.
We looked around the room. There were at least a dozen different computers set up in one room, each with a connection to the Internet. Their screens revealed lists of customer names and addresses. On a sheet of typing paper, taped to the wall above one of the monitors was a script, of sorts. It was the verbiage that these crafty salesmen used when communicating with an unwary victim-to-be. Dean pulled a small digital camera out of his pocket and began snapping pictures of everything in the room, with close-ups on the script taped to the wall.
Dad stuck his head out the front door and gave a loud, shrill whistle toward our car, waving to Terry. Terry caught the signal and hurried into the house. He stopped just inside the doorway and looked at the setup.
Dean looked at Terry and said, “Have a seat, Terry. Tell us what’s going on with these computers, would you, please?”
Terry’s fingers danced across the keyboard and several series of numbers scrolled up the screen. When he’d finished, he hit another key and the printer that sat next to the desktop computer spat out several pages of code as well as a customer list. He pulled the papers from the printer tray and handed them to Dean.
“This should be all you need to get a conviction,” Terry said. “Besides the customer list, you’ll also find bank account numbers with their respective totals and the names of which customer paid these guys, as well as how much they were taken for.”
Dean looked at the papers with awe. “That’s amazing,” Dean said. “Where did you learn all this stuff?”
Terry looked away, as if not wanting to be in anyone’s spotlight. He shrugged, trying to minimize his accomplishments.
“Come on, Terry,” I said. “Tell Lieutenant Hollister how you got so good at this.”
Hesitantly, Terry spoke up. “I was busted when I was sixteen for hacking into people’s computers. Actually, I got caught breaking into the computer at City Hall.”
I looked at Terry in a different light after that statement. I wasn’t certain if having him connected with Cooper Investigations would hurt us or help us, but I did know that I’d have to give some more thought to whether or not I’d be using his services again.
When Dean had finished with Terry’s analysis of the situation, he told Dad he’d be in touch and thanked us for our help. To me, it sounded like Dean’s way of dismissing us, so I gestured to Dad and Terry and the three of us left the house and walked back to the car. It was a long, silent ride back to our building and when we got there, I looked at Dad and pointed with my chin to the front door of our building. Dad took my meaning and left me standing there with Terry.
“Terry,” I started to say.
Terry waved me off. “You don’t have to say it, Elliott,” he said. “I could see it in your face. You’re not sure you want to keep me around, and frankly, I don’t blame you. But if I might say something in my defense, I admit breaking into the computer at City hall and a few others, but I didn’t do it to steal anything or hurt anyone. I just did it because I could. And what I learned about computer security has helped me pursue a career that I love. I don’t know how or if I can convince you that I have only the best of intentions. But I’ll tell you this much. If you stick with me, you’ll never be sorry. I know I can use my computer knowledge for good. And isn’t that your goal, too?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There is something in what you say, Terry,” I told him. “But I’m going to need some time to sort this out before I make a decision on whether to continue our association with you. Give me a few days to ask around and look into things and I’ll get back to you one way or the other. Fair enough?”
Terry nodded. “Fair enough,” he said, and walked away, his laptop tucked under his arm.
I met Dad upstairs in the office. He was talking with Gloria when I came in. They stopped talking and turned to me.
“So?” Gloria said. “What did you tell him?”
I slid into my office chair behind my desk and put my feet up. “Well,” I said, “I told him to give me a few days to talk this over with you two and that I’d be doing a little research and background checking on him before I called him back one way or the other.”
“What are you going to check?” Dad said.
“First,” I said, “I want to talk to Dean and see if he has a record. Then I need to research a little into the whole computer culture and see what they have to say about Terry. After that, I don’t know. It might just come down to my gut feeling.”
“Gut feeling,” Gloria said. “Would that be the male equivalent of women’s intuition?”
I didn’t answer, but just gave her my knowing look.
“He did help us out on this last one,” Dad said. “Do either of you have that kind of expertise with computers?”
Neither Gloria nor I offered any rebuttal.
“And hiring a computer expert every time the occasion calls for it could prove expensive,” Dad said. “And remember, Terry’s only going to be available until college starts in September. After that it’s a moot point.”
“There is that,” I agreed.
The next morning as the three of us came into work, I sat behind my desk and opened the lid on my laptop. Our morning routine generally consisted of the three of us checking our emails to see if anyone had requested information on our services. My computer came out of its sleep mode and my pastoral scene wallpaper filled the screen. Before I could click on my email icon a medium-sized window opened in the middle of my screen.
“What the…?” I said. Almost simultaneously, Gloria said almost the same thing, looking at her own screen. My window had a bright red boarder around it with a title across the top that said simply, Good Morning, Elliott. I looked over at Gloria, who was studying her screen intently. “Did you get a strange window on your screen, too?” I said.
Gloria nodded. I looked at Dad. He nodded, too. I looked back at my own screen and continued to read the text inside the box. It said:
“Good Morning, Elliott. Before you become alarmed, let me assure you that there is no virus or anything else harmful connected to this message. It is just another way for me to demonstrate to the three of you that I have only the best intentions. In fact, if you will run through your regular routines, you will find that all three of your computers are now running faster and more efficiently. I took the liberty of cleaning up all of your temporary Internet files. I’ve also optimized your operating system and doubled your processer’s speed. Be sure and let me know if I can do anything else to serve you and Co
oper Investigations.”
It was signed, Terry. I looked over at Gloria and asked what her message said. It said almost word for word what my message said with the exception of an additional sentence at the end of Gloria’s message. It said:
“Gloria, I removed three separate virus files from your computer. You should now have no further problems logging into the County Court Access site. You’re welcome, Terry.”
Gloria and I both turned to Dad, a question on our faces. His computer was still booting. Dad shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “As long as my solitaire game keeps working I’m a happy guy.” Then his screen came alive with a similar message from Terry. Dad’s message had all the elements of our messages, but his also said:
“Clay, You now have six different solitaire games available to you. I also removed a virus that you probably picked up on one of those internet porn sites. You really should stay off of those. They are known for their virus attacks, worms and Trojan Horses. Terry.”
Gloria and I gave Dad our raised eyebrow look and waited for a response.
“Once again,” Dad said, “Don’t look at me. I was looking up firearms and some topless babe popped up on the screen. I clicked the little red X in the upper right hand corner, trying to get it to go away, but it just opened up to a whole page of bodacious tatas.”
Gloria looked at Dad with surprise.
“Those aren’t my words,” Dad said. “That was the title of the screen that popped up. There’s no getting away from all that garbage. It’ll find you.”
“Sure, Dad,” I said in a condescending tone.
Dad gestured with his hand, the way a person tries to wave a mosquito away. “I don’t care if you believe me or not,” Dad said. “That’s how it got there.”
“Can we get back to business?” Gloria said, trying to put an end to this uncomfortable conversation between me and my dad. Then she turned to me and asked, “So what do you think you want to do about Terry?”
“If he had mischievous intent,” I said, “He could have wiped out all three of our hard drives, but he didn’t. I think I’d like to take a chance on him, whether he has a record or not. It’s just for another two months and it seems like the benefits outweigh the risks. What do you two think?”
“Let’s go with him,” Gloria said.
“I don’t care one way or the other,” Dad said. “And you don’t even know if he has a record. Yeah, go ahead, use the kid.”
“All right,” I said. “I’ll call him after lunch.”
Just then another window opened in my screen. It was an instant message from Terry that said, “Thanks for your confidence in me. I won’t let you down. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” The message window disappeared again and I sat there, dumbfounded.
“Now how could he have known what we decided?” I said. “Unless he had the office or the computers bugged.” I thought about it briefly and then said, “Nah.”
It was less than ten minutes later that Terry walked into the office, a smirk on his face. None of us said a word.
“So,” Terry finally said, “How are your computers working now?”
“Great,” I said.
“Mine’s a lot faster,” Gloria added.
“I love those extra solitaire games,” Dad said.
“And I could keep them all in top running condition,” Terry said. “Not to mention being able to give you the edge over the competition by getting the inside scoop on potential clients.” He looked at me and said, “So what can I do for Cooper Investigations this morning?”
I looked at Gloria and Dad. “Either of you get any emails asking about our services?”
“Gloria got one, your Dad didn’t get any and if you’ll check your email,” Terry said. “You have one, too. I think we can take them both on. Gloria’s wants you to check into a computer robbery scam and yours is asking about a transaction involving a fake money order.”
Gloria and I both froze in our tracks and stared at Terry. He held up his hands and said, “Or you can just read them for yourselves.”
I turned my attention back to the email on my screen. The woman left her name and phone number and asked me to call her before ten o’clock this morning. I dialed her number and listened as it rang three times. She picked up on the fourth ring.
“Audrey Wilson,” the woman said.
“Miss Wilson,” I said. “This is Elliott from Cooper Investigations. I’m calling in response to your email to me asking about some scam involving a fake money order.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Cooper,” Audrey said. “Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I was wondering if I could come by your office this morning to talk to you about my problem.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Terry waving, trying to get my attention. I excused myself for a moment and turned to Terry. “What is it, Terry?” I said.
“When she comes in,” Terry said, almost in a whisper, “Tell her to bring her laptop with her.”
“What if she only has a desktop?” I said.
“Women always have a laptop,” Terry said. “Just ask her.”
I got back on the phone. “I’m sorry, Miss Wilson, now you were saying you’d like to see me this morning?”
“That’s right, Mr. Cooper,” she said.
“That’ll work fine for me,” I said. “Shall we say...”
“Nine thirty?” Audrey said, filling in the blank for me.
“Nine thirty works for me,” I said. “I’ll see you then. Could you bring your laptop in with you when you come?”
“I suppose,” Audrey said, “If you think it’s important.”
“It is,” I said. “Thank you, Miss Wilson. We’ll see you in a little while.” I hung up and turned to Gloria. “I’ve got one coming in at nine-thirty. How about you?”
“No one’s answering,” Gloria said. “I’ll try her again a little later.”
Terry took a seat on the leather sofa against the wall and flipped his laptop open. He busied himself typing away on the keys, smiling to himself every now and then. When he’d finished, he pressed his Enter key and then looked up at me. “Check your email again, Elliott,” Terry said.
I opened my email and found a new one from Terry. There was no text, but it contained one attachment. I looked up at Terry.
“Go ahead,” he said. “You can open it. It’s safe.”
I clicked on the attachment and a document opened up on my screen. The heading said, “Audrey Wilson” followed by a color photo of her face. The document also included her age, weight, hair color, eye color, race, credit rating, banking history, Internet browsing history, net worth, make and model of her car, marital status, court record and a few other things about her that could prove useful. I glanced at Terry.
“This way you’ll know more about her than she does about you,” Terry said. And all in the space of the five minutes it takes to read that document. You can go into this transaction armed with valuable information.”
“Is this legal?” I said to Terry.
“You don’t plan on using that information for illegal purposes, do you, Elliott?” Terry said.
“Of course not,” I said.
“Then it’s just fine,” Terry said. “What’s that old saying about a gift horse?”
I didn’t answer him. Instead I finished reading the entire document just seconds before the knock came on our office door.
“It’s open,” Dad said from his desk, the closest desk to the door.
A middle-aged woman walked in, closing the door behind her. I knew instantly that this was Audrey Wilson, even without asking. After reading her report, I felt like I knew her personally even though we’d never met.
“Miss Wilson?” I said, rising from my chair.
She nodded and walked over to my desk. “And you would be Mr. Cooper?” she said.
“Yes I would,” I answered.
“And so would I,” Dad said, rising from his chair and walking over toward my desk.
&n
bsp; I shook Audrey’s hand. “I’m Elliott Cooper,” I said. “And this is my father, Clay Cooper.” I gestured toward Dad.
Just then Gloria came over and Dad wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “And this is Gloria Campbell,” he said by way of introduction.
Audrey nodded at both of them and smiled. “Pleased to meet you both,” she said.
Gloria and Dad retreated to the sofa and sat next to Terry, who was still typing away on his computer. An introduction to Terry didn’t seem appropriate at the time.
I invited Audrey to sit in my client’s chair and slipped back into my own chair behind my desk. “Can I get you some coffee, Miss Wilson?”
“No thank you,” she said. “And please, call me Audrey.”
“So, Audrey,” I said, “What is it we can do for you today?”
“I’m not sure there is anything you can do,” Audrey said, “But suppose I tell you what happened to me and you can decide if you can help me or not.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
“Well,” Audrey said. “It started ten days ago when I sold my husband’s ‘87 Corvette on one of those online auction sites.”
“Ebay?” I said.
“Similar,” Audrey said, but this one was called Ebidding, Incorporated. I guess they were counting on user confusion, trying to ride the tails of ebay’s success. They should call their site ebad. Anyway, I sold the Corvette for fourteen thousand dollars and change. Right after the auction ended, I got an email from the winning bidder. He said he was out of town but that he’d have his courier personally deliver the money order to me and pick up the car.”
“What did your husband say when you sold his Corvette?” I said.
