Dev Haskell Box Set 8-14 (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator)

by Mike Faricy

  “How long?” Iggy asked again.

  “I’m working on it. Maybe eight, nine years. This girl I was dating sent me a couple of selfies she took when we went to Las Vegas. She got bored with watching the Super Bowl in our hotel room, the Giants beat the Patriots that year, I remember that. Well, and the selfies she sent from the bathroom to get me away from the game.”

  Iggy was clicking keys as he asked, “Was your computer new when you purchased it?”

  “Yeah, I got it for Christmas that year, little gift to myself. Business expense,” I laughed.

  Iggy didn’t seem too impressed. “Figure October, November of 2007. Good, Linux, Windows XP,” he said. He clicked some more keys then muttered, “Mobile five, I A thirty-two, X Sixty-four. What is your email address?”

  I told him.

  “And the password?”

  “One-two-three-four-five, easy to remember and lots of numbers,” I said, thinking that might suggest I wasn’t a lightweight when it came to security.

  He stopped typing for a moment and looked at me, “You’re kidding. That’s the most popular password for the past few years running. Good lord, it’s probably the first thing any amateur hacker would try.”

  “Oh,” I said and couldn’t think of anything else.

  “Okay, now this, great, think we’ve got it. Yes, this look familiar,” he said a few moments later, then turned the screen in my direction. The screen was exactly what my computer displayed when I turned it on. The image of Rae Lynn, a woman I used to date with her bikini top slung over her shoulder. The way the shot was taken it didn’t expose her, well, except for the bare shoulder, more’s the pity, I always thought, she’d been very blessed.

  “Anything you’re aware of that might cause a problem, threats against the President, attempts at stealing funds from someone’s account, some sort of fraudulent enterprise, maybe an internet scam, anything along those lines?”

  “No, not really. As you may have guessed, I’m not really a computer guy.”

  “And you said the officers were from the vice squad?”

  “That’s what their cards said.”

  “Let’s check your images,” he said, clicking keys. It took about a minute, then he pulled up a file labeled Party-Time.

  “What the hell? That’s not mine. I’ve never seen that thing before.”

  He clicked on the file and an initial image popped up. It looked like a wheel of some sort with a bunch of puzzle pieces. He clicked more keys over the course of a couple of minutes and suddenly the thing swirled into a legible image of a small child, a little girl. She couldn’t have been more than five or six years old, and she was naked. Iggy glanced over at me.

  I spoke before he had a chance to say anything. “Believe me, I’ve never seen that picture. I’ll kill whoever loaded that on my computer.”

  “According to the file, there’s over a thousand images. This is probably one of the more tame ones.”

  “Jesus, delete that shit.”

  “We’ll do better than that. A simple delete will still leave a trail on your computer. I think we’ll reinstall this on one of Niles Wegger’s devices, one he won’t suspect.”

  “You can get into his computers?”

  “I told you before, I already have. I’m going to go through your files, all of them, just to be on the safe side, make sure there aren’t more plants like this.”

  “That could take forever.”

  “I’ll do it based on date added. It won’t be that difficult, you’ve only been involved for what, a little more than seventy-two hours?”

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  “I’ll go back twice as long, just to be safe. But I’d better get on it. No telling how soon the police will access the computer. Do you have another system, one at your home?”

  “No, just the one laptop. I’ve got cable and Netflix at home.”

  He gave me a quick look then said, “You should be okay, but let me get working on this now. I’ll start with a new password and some added security, that will buy us more time,” he said, then turned back to the computer screen and began clicking keys a mile a minute.

  “Thanks, Iggy you’re a lifesaver. I’ll let myself out.” He gave a quick wave with a latex gloved hand and nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I phoned Louie back from out on the deck. Luscious and Morton, my security team, were both snoring. “Hi, Louie, it’s Dev,” I said once he answered. “Man, Iggy, this computer guy, accessed my laptop. Someone loaded a bunch of kiddie porn on there. He found a file with a thousand images.”

  “You gotta be kidding.”

  “I wish, he’s going to erase them or delete them or something. Bastards had access to my computer.”

  “You mean someone broke into the office?”

  “Not exactly, apparently my password was a little lax.”

  “There’s a surprise.”

  “He’s gonna fix that, too. Anything else with those two cops?”

  “No, except they didn’t want to believe you weren’t here when they saw your car parked on the street. Then, when they finally did leave and your car was gone, well, let’s just say they weren’t too happy. I told you they were gonna have it towed.”

  “Yeah. I catch the bastard that put that shit on my laptop, I’ll kill him.”

  “As your attorney I have to caution you about…”

  “You know what I mean. Cops were outside my house, too.”

  “The two detectives?”

  “No, a squad car parked across the street. Plus, there was a tracking device on my car.” I went on to tell Louie about pulling the device off my car and attaching it to the train. “I’m sure the cops have everyone on the lookout for my license plate, damn Lancer sticks out like a sore thumb as it is. I’m going to be driving Bonnie’s Santa Fe for the next day or so. I’ll have to figure something else out once she gets back in town.”

  “Good luck, man. Listen, I hate to cut you off, but I fully expect those guys to be back with a warrant to grab my computer and anything else they can think of. I need to get out of here. You want me, I’ll be in that back room at The Spot. You think of coming back here to the office, check with me first, okay?”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Louie,” I said and hung up.

  I knocked on Iggy’s door and told him I was going grocery shopping.

  “I think we’re almost out of hot dogs,” he said, followed by the sound of continual keys clicking on the keyboard.

  “Hot dogs, got it. Anything else you need?”

  “No.”

  I could tell we were establishing a relationship. One conversation where he basically suggested I was an idiot, and now this one covering hot dogs, lucky me.

  I picked up the hot dogs, along with hot dog buns, two roast chickens, mashed potatoes, a new tub of ice cream, two boxes of Hungry Jack pancake batter, an apple pie, a gallon of milk and a bag of bite size Butterfinger candy bars.

  When I returned to Bonnie’s Morton was awake, although he hadn’t moved. Luscious was still sound asleep. I placed the roast chickens and mashed potatoes in the oven and turned it onto the warm setting. Then boiled up a couple of hot dogs and brought them down to Iggy. I must have made some sort of progress earlier because he actually opened the door and let me bring his hot dogs into his dark cave instead of just leaving them on the stairs.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of rearranging your computer files with a view toward increased efficiency,” he said, taking the plate of hot dogs from me. “I’ve also added some additional security and set a new password,” he said, then laughed to himself.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Bit of humor on my part, is all.”

  I could only imagine. “I’m always up for a joke, Iggy.”

  “Ahhh, well, yes, I’m sure you’ll see the humor. How’s this for your new password, ready? Securitas six twelve,” he said, then stood there in the dark and laughed out loud.

  “W
hat am I missing?”

  “Oh, come on, don’t you get it? The Latin root word for security along with your birthdate, six twelve, June twelfth. That is your birthday, isn’t it?” he asked, suddenly sounding all concerned.

  “Yeah, that’s my birthday. Oh, sure, of course, the Latin root, what was I thinking?” I said, thinking I’d better write it down and keep it in my wallet. My previous password might not have been too secure by Iggy’s standards, but at least I could remember the damn thing.

  “There’s an option for you to list three security questions, and I’ve added some additional levels beyond that. I’d recommend attaching a biometric scanner, they can be acquired for a modest investment. That, along with the levels I’ve added, should keep you relatively safe.”

  “A biometric scanner?”

  Iggy stared at me for a long moment. I took comfort in the fact he didn’t sigh this time. “Biometrics. For our purposes, matching a number of features in your fingerprint pattern.”

  “Oh, a fingerprint scanner.”

  “Yes, a fingerprint scanner,” he said, taking the low road.

  “Great idea. I’ll look into that.”

  “Please, I highly recommend it. Biometrics would eliminate a number of potential problems for you. Now, to that end, I went ahead and eliminated a number of files on your system. Of course, that dreadful file placed there.”

  “So you found more files besides that one you opened?”

  “Not in so many words. There were, how shall I say, a number of images in a variety of boudoir styles that left nothing to the imagination.”

  “Iggy, talk English to me, man. Where is this coming from?”

  This time he did give an audible sigh, then looked down longingly at the plate of hot dogs he still held. “I’m referring to your collection of naked images apparently from a variety of different women. Many taken in a similar, if not the exact, same setting.”

  “My bedroom. You deleted all those? My collection? Please tell me I’m wrong.”

  “Better safe than sorry. A number of the women appeared to have been more than a little intoxicated. Does the name Bill Cosby have any connotation?”

  “Hey, they weren’t drugged, it’s more like we were just party animals and one thing led to another.”

  “Not to worry, the images have been eliminated.”

  “Wonderful,” I said, meaning anything but.

  “I sent an anonymous email to the police department’s tip line, then scheduled two others to be sent over the next thirty-six hours from different email addresses. I would think they’ll be paying a call to our mutual friend Mr. Wegger in the very near future.”

  “Good, it’ll serve him right.”

  That seemed to bring a smile to Iggy’s face, “If there’s nothing else,” he said, then raised the plate of hot dogs.

  “No, that’s it for me, nothing else. Iggy, thanks for your help. I would have completely missed that file of images, and the cops would have locked me up, then thrown away the key until they sorted it out, and I can’t say that I’d blame them.”

  Iggy smiled, hurried to the door and let me out. I went back upstairs to review my security team.

  Luscious was awake, finally, but still in the same position on the couch. “Man, Dev,” he said as I came up the stairs to the main floor. “Something smells awfully good in here. That wouldn’t happen to be roast chicken, would it?”

  “Very perceptive, Luscious. You hit the nail on the head. If you want to get yourself cleaned up, we’ll eat in about five minutes. I’m just going to set the table.”

  Luscious slowly rose to a sitting position, then sort of rocked back and forth a few times until he’d built up enough momentum to stand. He groaned as he got to his feet.

  “Tough day, Luscious?”

  “Been a lot of work. I took Morton for a walk while you were gone.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, sir. I took him out to the deck and then he ran around the backyard there for about ten minutes.”

  “You were with him?”

  “Yes, sir. Well, I mean I stayed on the deck, but I watched him the whole time.”

  “No wonder you’re tired,” I said, but I’m not sure he got the joke. Instead, he just nodded like that made perfect sense, then headed for the bathroom.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  We had dinner. I filled Morton’s food dish with dog food, which caused him to look disdainfully from Luscious to me. I put some mashed potatoes on my plate, then passed the bowl to Luscious, who emptied the bowl. I’d placed both roast chickens on a large platter. I cut the thigh and a drumstick from one of the birds, then passed the platter to Luscious. He placed the untouched roast chicken onto his plate and dug in.

  “Glad you were able to grab some sack time this afternoon, Luscious. I’m thinking we’ll work in shifts tonight. One of us always awake just watching. With Bonnie in Seattle, time seems to be running out on these jerks. If they’re going to try anything, I’m thinking it’s going to be sooner rather than later.”

  Luscious nodded, then pulled a drumstick bone out of his mouth, it was clean, not a hint of meat on it. “Sounds good to me, however you want to schedule things is fine. I’m usually up a couple of times just to fix a little snack, so whatever works.” He expertly cut the entire breast off one side of the chicken sitting on his plate and started in.

  “Mmm, one other thing,” he said, then crammed another forkful of chicken and mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Might make sense to have whichever one of us is sleeping to take one of the beds in a bedroom instead of the couch. That way, they do try something, we could be, you know, like in reserve or something. Maybe set it up so we could page one another on our cellphones, you know, to alert us.”

  “Great idea, Luscious. We’ll set it up after dinner.”

  Luscious was more than halfway through the first chicken breast when he carved the remaining breast off the chicken and piled it on his plate. Then he emptied the dressing out of the bird, aggressively digging with a spoon so he wouldn’t miss any before he started in again on the pile of food.

  “Tell you what, why don’t you take that first shift around eleven. I’ll relieve you from, say, two to six in the morning. That sound okay?” I asked.

  His mouth was too full to speak. So he simply pointed at his mouth and nodded in agreement.

  “Once you’re finished eating, go do whatever you want, just be back here by eleven. Okay?”

  He nodded, chewed a little more before he took an audible swallow. “Oh, man, really good. Hey, you gonna eat any more?” His plate was still piled with food, and there was more meat remaining on the chicken resting on his plate.

  “No, to tell you the truth, Luscious, I’d just be stuffing myself at this stage. You go on and dig in, help yourself.”

  That brought a smile to his face and he dug in, shoveling food like he was already late catching a train. Once he finished the chicken breasts from his bird he grabbed the remaining bird off the platter and set it on his plate. He set his silverware down then picked up a bird in his hands and started gnawing away. I had trouble watching, and yet found it fascinating to see him in action. In less than fifteen minutes he’d picked both birds clean, polished off six servings of mashed potatoes and was rattling around in the empty bag of Butterfinger candy bars in the vain attempt to find one more.

  “I might just run up to the store and pick up a few treats, you know, as long as I’m going to be up and working later tonight.”

  “Probably be a good idea,” I said, then pulled a ten dollar bill out of my pocket, handed it to him and said, “Maybe grab a couple of bags, it could be a long night.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Luscious had finished the bag of Milky Ways before I went to bed at eleven. He woke me a half hour before my shift at two and said he was falling asleep. Morton just groaned and snuggled into the pillow. I watched Luscious stumble into what had to be J.D’s room, heard the bed creak and groan as all four hu
ndred pounds of fun climbed aboard. He was snoring two minutes later. I pulled the bedroom door closed but it didn’t seem to help, I could still hear him.

  Amazingly, he’d forgotten four small Butterfinger candy bars on the kitchen counter. A dozen-and-a-half Milky Way wrappers were scattered around the couch area. I picked up the wrappers, tossed the empty cans of Coke in the recycling bin and turned on the TV. Bonnie had something like a hundred and twenty cable channels available, but none of them offered anything I wanted to watch. Her Kindle sat next to the TV so I turned it on and scanned through her library. It looked like a great selection, if you were into romance. I wasn’t.

  I ended up choosing something entitled ‘The Doctor Is In’. The cover featured a nurse with her white nurse’s uniform unbuttoned well below her waist and some naked guy with a six-pack stomach. You couldn’t see his face, and he was wearing a stethoscope around his neck. It was billed as a medical mystery. The nurse, named Gloria, was spanking him with a licorice stick and worrying about some kid’s flu symptoms on page one. I didn’t get any further. I went back to the cable channels, flicked through all of the channels twice and ended up watching the morning news broadcast from the UK, a six hour time difference from where I was in Minnesota. The news cycle was repeating itself by the time I got up to use the bathroom. I turned the TV off, then walked into the ensuite unit off Bonnie’s bedroom. By now I was familiar enough with the house that I could find my way in the dark. In case I had any doubts, Morton was on the bed, snoring in time to Luscious’ snores coming from down the hall, the two of them acting like bedroom fog horns.

  While I was in the bathroom I thought I may have heard Luscious walking around, but that didn’t seem to make any sense. I turned the light off and poked my head out the door. Morton was still snoring, but I couldn’t hear Luscious. I had just stepped into the hall when a shadow sailed out of the room Luscious was in, bounced off the hallway wall, then dropped to the floor. A second figure took a quick step or two out of the room before a massive arm grabbed him by the hair and violently yanked him back in. Someone cried out in agony a moment later and then all was quiet.