Scattered Graves dffi-6

by Beverly Connor

  ‘‘I’ll sit right here,’’ he said and took a seat across from the sheriff.

  Diane and Frank pulled up dining room chairs. All eyes were on Caleb. He looked so thin and small.

  He glanced over at Diane. ‘‘You got my message?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘If you are the ghost in the machine,’’ said Diane. ‘‘That’s why we’re here. We figured out it was you.’’

  He smiled. ‘‘I’m a little surprised. I thought, if you figure it out, that’s fine, but if you don’t, then maybe it was meant for me to be home free.’’

  ‘‘Free from what, Caleb?’’ asked Mr. Wilson.

  ‘‘The things I’ve done,’’ he said.

  ‘‘Did Spence Jefferies recruit you?’’ asked Diane.

  ‘‘Not the way he did other people. He recruited Malcolm Chen. Malcolm was my friend. He’s the one who came up with the Black Light thing. I thought it was kind of silly, but he thought it was cool. He knew

  I like the movies WarGames and 2001: A Space Odyssey.’’

  ‘‘You wrote the AI program?’’ said Frank. Caleb nodded. ‘‘I wanted to write a program that

  could be used maybe to help the disabled use comput

  ers more easily, or maybe in business. Like it could

  just flow around in the network keeping track of what

  people are doing. And if someone on the fifth floor

  could use the information that someone on the first

  floor had, the program could tell them. That kind of

  thing.’’

  ‘‘It seemed real,’’ said Diane. ‘‘For a long time we

  thought it was someone using some kind of instantmessaging program.’’

  Caleb smiled. ‘‘I started by writing a chess-playing

  algorithm. Playing chess is one of the best things to

  start programming with. It has pure rules, but it also

  has strategies and thinking ahead, and personality.

  There’s lots of chess programs out there, but I wanted

  to write my own for the practice. It looks for people

  to play with; you may have found that out.’’ ‘‘Yes, it found its way to Jonas Briggs’ computer

  and asked him to play. He was rather surprised,’’

  said Diane.

  Caleb smiled. ‘‘It’s almost become a bug in the pro

  gram,’’ he said. ‘‘I started by teaching it to look for

  people who play. I tried to change it, but it won’t stop.’’ ‘‘But it’s more than a chess program now,’’ said

  Frank.

  Caleb nodded. ‘‘I gave it a database of information.

  A fairly large one. I was trying to get it to learn, so

  when it gets new information, it compares it to what

  it knows. If there is no conflict, it keeps it and stores

  it according to a hierarchy of probable accuracy—

  another algorithm I worked out.’’

  ‘‘How did you make it sound human?’’ said Diane. ‘‘It parses sentences and conversations, so when you

  ask it a question, it not only analyzes what you asked,

  but analyzes everything that was said previously. There

  is a little problem in changing topics sometimes.’’ Caleb’s eyes grew bright when he talked about his

  program. Diane was seeing just how very gifted he

  was. She was starting to feel heartsick.

  ‘‘I made algorithms from interrogation techniques

  and from the way some psychiatrists do therapy—you

  know, kind of Rogerian—by making a statement and

  then asking what the person understands or what they

  think it means. That kind of thing. Or

  question with a question. I also put in

  answering a a small-talk algorithm. If certain concepts or phrases come up in the conversation, it searches for references in pop cul

  ture or movies.’’

  ‘‘We noticed that,’’ said Frank. ‘‘We were all im

  pressed. My name is Frank, and the other guy working

  on it was Dave.’’

  Caleb grinned for the first time. ‘‘Did it recognize

  that? Did it say something?’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ said Frank. ‘‘It said it was funny and asked

  us if we knew why it was funny.’’

  Caleb laughed and slapped his thighs. Diane could

  hear the joy in his voice—like a parent enjoying what

  his child had learned to do.

  If the sheriff or the Wilsons were getting impatient,

  they didn’t show it. The sheriff appeared to be content

  to let Caleb’s story unfold the way he wanted it to.

  Diane felt that it was important to understand his pro

  gramming abilities, for that seemed to be the basis for

  the crimes.

  Caleb hesitated a moment, as if he knew he needed

  to get to the topic at hand. His face grew solemn and

  he looked as if he was about to tear up.

  ‘‘Malcolm Chen, as I said, was a friend,’’ he said,

  ‘‘and I killed him.’’

  Chapter 52

  Arlen and Mary Wilson sat up straight. She put a hand over her mouth.

  ‘‘No,’’ she whispered.

  ‘‘You are entitled to have a lawyer,’’ Diane re peated.

  ‘‘You need to do that, son,’’ said the sheriff.

  ‘‘Listen to them,’’ said Arlen. He started to rise from his chair.

  Caleb shook his head violently.

  ‘‘Look . . . Let’s just say that everything I say is hypothetical and leave it at that. Will that be all right? Everything I’m going to tell you is hypothetical. But I need to tell you.’’

  ‘‘Okay, son,’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘Tell us your hypo thetical story.’’

  Arlen sat back down.

  ‘‘You asked me if Spence Jefferies recruited me. He recruited Mal—Malcolm—to work as a hacker. Mal was so easily impressed and thought he was on the inside. But Jefferies didn’t just want hackers, he wanted programmers. Mal was a good hacker, but he couldn’t see the ones and zeros, I mean really see them,’’ he said, looking at each of them.

  ‘‘I know what you mean,’’ said Frank.

  ‘‘Were you the one who hacked Jefferies’ com puter?’’ Caleb asked.

  Frank shook his head. ‘‘It was another guy. I just offered suggestions.’’

  ‘‘But you understand about seeing the math?’’ he said.

  ‘‘Yes,’’ said Frank.

  ‘‘Mal told Jefferies about me. I wasn’t interested in the job fairs, or even getting that kind of job. I was interested in working with AI. I was still in school and wanted to go to graduate school. But Mal told him about me and told him I was the best.’’

  Caleb frowned, looking angry.

  ‘‘Jefferies came after me. He tried to bribe me. First with watches. What the hell kind of bribe is that? I don’t need a watch that costs ten thousand dollars. Who does? Then he offered me money. A lot of it. I didn’t like what they were doing. I knew it was a cybergang. I told Mal it wasn’t a game. It was serious business, and these guys were criminals. He just laughed.’’

  ‘‘He couldn’t bribe you?’’ prompted Frank.

  Caleb shook his head.

  ‘‘Then he started threatening my family. The farm. He was rich and he said he could take Grampa’s farm away from him. He owed a lot of money and Jefferies said he would buy out his mortgage like they were doing to other people. So I gave in. I told him I would write his programs. What he wanted was trojans car rying viruses to gather information. Do you know about that?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘I’m a detective in the Metro-Atlanta Fraud and Computer Forensics Unit,’’ said Frank. ‘‘I’ve been working on the rise in identity thefts caused by Jeffer ies’ cybergang.’’

  Caleb no
dded. ‘‘So you know the damage those vi ruses can do. Jefferies wanted me to write one that was harder to detect. One that didn’t hog the CPU use, so it would be harder to discover. He also wanted me to work in the Rosewood Bank and install one of my viruses to steal information about the patrons and about other banks in the Federal Reserve System. Jef feries was fascinated with programmers. He thought we were a cross between magicians and pets.’’

  ‘‘What happened with Malcolm Chen?’’ asked Frank. ‘‘Hypothetically.’’

  ‘‘Stupid.’’ Caleb shook his head. ‘‘He got stupid. I couldn’t convince him these guys weren’t to be messed with. He bought into their hype that he was some kind of special expert that no one could touch. He figured out how much money Jefferies was raking in and de cided to steal some of it. He hacked into Jefferies’ computer and stole some of his offshore account num bers and transferred the money to an account he set up.’’

  Caleb shook his head again. ‘‘He didn’t tell me. If he had told me, I could have helped him cover it up. I discovered that Mayor Jefferies’ computer had been hacked when he asked me to work on it. I told Jeffer ies he had been hacked, and he was furious. I didn’t know it was Mal because Mal hadn’t told me, don’t you see?’’

  Caleb stopped for a moment as if to catch his breath. He looked at each of them and his gaze lin gered on his grandparents, who smiled at him.

  ‘‘Jefferies asked me if I knew where there was some land away from everything where he could hide some thing. He didn’t tell me what. I told him about McCar thy’s land. You know, Grampa, the guy from Detroit who can’t decide what he wants to do with his little piece of property.’’

  His grandfather nodded. ‘‘I told them about him,’’ he said.

  ‘‘Jefferies made me take him out there to show him. Curtis Crabtree and Edgar Peeks were with him. When we got there they opened the trunk of the car, and there was Mal in the trunk, tied up and gagged. They dragged him out and called that other guy, Gage Shipman, on Jefferies’ cell. The phone was on speaker and Shipman described my brother Henry doing his chores. Shipman was here at our farm. Over in the woods. He was right here, watching Henry.’’

  Diane had a sick feeling in her stomach. She saw Arlen and his wife reach for each other.

  Tears began to flow from Caleb’s eyes, spilling onto his cheeks as he started crying. His eyes grew red and puffy. He got the hiccups, and it was hard for him to catch his breath. Frank handed him a box of Kleenex from an end table and went to the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. Caleb wiped his eyes and blew his nose. He took a long drink, almost to the bottom of the glass.

  ‘‘Jefferies put a gun in my hand and told me if I didn’t shoot Malcolm, they would tell Gage Shipman to kill my little brother.’’

  Caleb stopped and cried again, his shoulders heav ing with the flow of tears that dripped onto his hands. His grandmother gasped and held a hand to her mouth. Both she and her husband were tearing up.

  ‘‘How do you make a decision like that? How do you do that? You’ve seen Henry, how special he is. He’s my brother. How could they ask me to make that kind of decision?’’

  He sniffed and blew his nose again.

  ‘‘Mal begged me. He was crying and begging me not to shoot him. But I did. They called Shipman off and they took the gun from me. Jefferies told me I was a murderer now and that he owned me. He said it wouldn’t be too bad because I would make a lot of money. He took Mal’s watch off him and gave it to me and told me that as long as I did what he wanted, Henry would be safe.’’

  ‘‘So you killed Jefferies,’’ said Diane.

  Caleb was silent for a long while. No one said any thing.

  ‘‘It’s funny,’’ Caleb said. ‘‘I wrote the virus Jefferies wanted, and it never occurred to him that I would put it on his computer.’’ Caleb looked at Diane. ‘‘I owned his network. I knew everything he did, including where he kept all his money, who he had hired, and where they worked. I had their programs. I had every thing. I had it all sent to my computer here.’’

  Frank raised his eyebrows. Diane could imagine what he was thinking.

  He drank the last of his water. He’d stopped crying, and his face was like stone. His eyes were mere slits, and his mouth was set in a grim frown.

  ‘‘Jefferies so admired Alexander the Great. Well, I knew about Alexander the Great too. And I knew what he would do to defeat an enemy. He’d cut off its head. To kill a snake, you take off the head. In this case it was more like a hydra and two more would grow back. I had to kill the others too. I shot Jefferies. I was going to kill Peeks, but someone beat me to it. I was going to get everyone who wore that stupid pinky ring. It was the only way I could make sure Henry would be safe. After I shot Jefferies, I put Mal’s watch on him. He could have the damn thing back.’’

  ‘‘Why didn’t you come to us, Caleb?’’ said Arlen. ‘‘We would have helped.’’

  Caleb looked at his grandparents. ‘‘You would have done the right thing, and you would have been killed for it. I had no place to go for help.’’

  ‘‘You should have come straight to me, son,’’ said the sheriff. ‘‘I would have handled it. You didn’t have to kill them.’’

  ‘‘I couldn’t take the chance with Henry’s life, Sher iff, I’m sorry. You’re a good man, but there’s one of you and a whole gang of them. All of them vicious and cold-blooded. Jefferies was the mayor; Peeks was the chief of police. They’d hired a bunch of their own cops. His friend Bryce controlled the crime lab. Jeffer ies had a judge killed and was friends with the gover nor. He bragged that he was going to get someone inside the GBI. Where could I go? Who was I sup posed to go to? Who could I trust? As far as I was concerned, he had broken the social contract.’’ Caleb looked at Diane. ‘‘Are you familiar with John Locke?’’ he asked.

  Diane nodded. ‘‘You no longer had to give up your right to aggressively protect yourself and your family, because the government had not fulfilled its part of the bargain. From your point of view, the government could not maintain social order. Does that sum up your position?’’ said Diane.

  Caleb nodded. ‘‘What else could I have done?’’

  David was faced with the same dilemma exactly, thought Diane. He dropped out and started his own investigation. He skirted the law a little, but he wouldn’t have killed. But then, David was a lot older than Caleb; he had a world more experience, re sources to use, and maturity. It makes a difference. Caleb was essentially a kid. He was a kid for how long—almost twenty years? And a young adult for one.

  What would any of us have done if our families had been threatened in that way? What would I have done had I known what Ivan Santos had in mind for Ariel and our friends at the mission? thought Diane. Would I have gone after him?

  Epilogue

  The aftermath to the whole Jefferies episode was un settling to everyone in Rosewood. The meth lab explo sion the previous year had brought people together. But this series of events and disclosures was divisive. The fallout reached everyone from the governor, whose PR people tried to spin the damage by ex plaining that photo ops with Jefferies didn’t mean they were bosom buddies, to individual families like the McConnels, whose son, Ethan, wandered onto the mu seum overlook and was threatened by security guard Gage Shipman.

  Andie told Diane she heard from Mrs. McConnel that she and her husband might divorce. The police man friend of Mr. McConnel’s buddy, Barrel, turned out to be one of Jefferies’ hires. Mr. McConnel, who had voted for Jefferies based on his law-and-order stance, now felt betrayed and humiliated, and his wife was not kind. Like a lot of people, she couldn’t resist the I-told-you-so’s.

  Frank and his department came out well. Caleb’s computer was a gold mine—literally. It had every sin gle thing in it Frank needed to untangle Jefferies’ em pire. Caleb gave Frank a flash drive containing a total copy of the information. He seemed to understand that Rosewood might not be eager to share with At lanta. Caleb gave David all his algorithms
to ponder. David, a lover of algorithms, was bubbly with ex citement.

  Janice Warrick never discovered who the shadow man was on the security tape.

  Rikki was the most disappointed. She thought she sent a chunk of Jefferies’ money to her own account in the Caribbean via her cell phone, which she threw in the river along with the hard disk. She had no way of knowing that Caleb had already emptied all but a thousand dollars from each account. He put the money in a holding account for the authorities to fig ure out what to do with. The prison guards said Rikki stomped around her cell for days ranting at her bad luck.