Dark Service

by Linda Coles

  Griffin could see she was struggling a little and didn’t want to pressure her either to go on or to stop. He let her have some space and sat silently.

  Finally, Vee resumed her story. “He posted it in a chat room, and thirty thousand views later I got wind of it by a tip-off. I’m guessing it was someone at work but I can’t be sure.” She raised her voice and added, “As if the video being out there isn’t enough, a work colleague had to see it too.” She took another breath and returned to normal volume. “Anyway, by the time I was aware of it, it was on several more revenge sites with god only knows how many views. Long story short, it hurt, and I mean it really hurt, and there’s not much I can do about it. That’s why it’s on the dark web, not the surface web. At least I could ask Google to take it down if it was on the regular web. These guys don’t play by the same rules, though, so I assume it’s still out there. And you just have to read the news to know that there are many more victims like me.” Turning to Griffin and reaching for her pizza again, she went on with an invigorated spark of energy. “So now I play a role in helping others who have had the misfortune to have dated a fuckwit.”

  So matter-of-fact.

  Griffin wasn’t really sure what to say or do. Should he refresh her drink? Give her a hug, perhaps? Commiserate, even? Or change the subject? He leaned into her a little and took her hand in his, squeezing it affectionately. At this point in their relationship, and given his uncertainty about what to do, he called it a hug.

  It would do for Vee too.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  He never lay in bed, but since he’d met Vee, things had started to change. Spending a few extra moments in bed in the privacy of his mind as well as the empty room, he let images of her drift in and out. Everyone had a past, but thinking about her with someone else – the issue of the revenge porn aside – he knew it was jealousy he was feeling. She was cute, no doubt about it, and they got on. And she was smart, and different and knowledgeable and …. And what?

  And he was jealous.

  He threw the bed covers back and headed to his morning routine to shake the notion from his head. It was all in the past, nothing to think about now. So why was he? And who was the prick who had posted the videos of her for all to see? Upsetting Vee had been the goal, but why? So many questions and no answers. He lathered his face in white cream and wondered if he could track down the guy without her knowing about it. At the very least the prick would inform Vee of his involvement, relishing in the glory of her latest boyfriend getting jealous. If the prick had been capable of revenge porn posting, he’d lap up interference from her latest boyfriend. And she’d be pissed, that much he did know about her. For a small packet, he reckoned she’d throw a hard punch, physically and metaphorically. No, while he admired her, he wouldn’t want to cross her. She’d already mentioned her mother’s temper; Vee would likely be just the same. The thought actually made him smile and his razor nicked his chin. He winced as crimson mixed with the white foam. Again.

  They’d had a good time, though, the previous night. They’d chatted a little more about her role in the support group, and he hadn’t pried into her experience for any more details than she’d already given. There was nothing to gain from it. He knew her story now, and that was all he needed to know about it. He knew the real value of privacy and appreciated it himself. They’d ended up watching TV, relaxed in each other’s company, while she’d finished off the Snakebite and most of the tub of ice cream before calling it a night, and Griffin had walked her back home. They’d chatted about nothing and she’d kissed his cheek before eventually heading inside and leaving him to wander back to his flat alone. She’d waited after she’d kissed him, but he had felt too awkward to turn a peck on the cheek into something else, something a bit longer. A bit more precise. Like a kiss on her lips. So he’d kicked himself on the walk back, annoyed that the moment had fizzled like a wet firework and swearing he wouldn’t let it happen again. No, next time he’d be ready, take the lead even, and kiss her properly.

  That alone scared him.

  While it was only a kiss, it was a kiss he wanted, though he was acutely aware of what it could lead to; that frightened him. Had that been his reservation, his avoidance – that a kiss would lead to something more?

  Get real, Griffin.

  What were they going to do, get hot and amorous on her parents’ doorstep? Would he accost her and ravish her in her room while her parents listened on below? No, of course not. He shook his head to dislodge his wild, accusing thoughts and strode home quickly.

  He made himself a mug of tea, then opened his laptop and resumed his research, research for his other interest. The one that had nothing to do with amateur sports doping.

  But that had been after he’d fired a quick message off to a friend, a friend with particular tech skills who was no stranger to the online space and might be able to help track down the videos and the culprit himself, legally or otherwise, through backdoors he knew she had keys to. She was clever and covered her tracks well, though that wasn’t her day job. More of a side angle, a Robin Hood of the web or a grey hat, if you wanted to use the techy term – someone who obeys morals but not necessarily the law. As a legitimate developer of things techy, she ran an above-board business building apps and websites and did very well for herself. So her ‘side hustle’ was something that stayed there – at the side. It had to. She was about to get married to her sweetheart.

  And her sweetheart was DS Amanda Lacey.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Downstairs in the kitchen, Ruth opened her laptop. Above her head she could hear taps running and muted singing as Amanda filled in the bits of the song in her ear buds she did know and missed out the bits she didn’t. Blank chunks filled the air interspersed with semi-shouting. In reality, there wasn’t much of the Shania Twain song that was recognizable. She smiled as Amanda pumped out another ‘That don’t impress-er me much, oh, oh, oh, oh.’ Sadly, there’s where the song ended each time, for another few seconds at least until the chorus came back round and she ruined it again. Thank goodness they weren’t having karaoke at their wedding, Ruth mused.

  When Amanda had had her soak and finished playing Moby Dick in the bubbles, she’d grab a shower of her own, but now they were spending more time in the same house together, she let Amanda have her bathroom time. Alone. Not that her eardrums could stand the noise.

  Messenger pinged.

  “Hello, stranger. It’s been a while,” Ruth said to the screen. “How you been?”

  “Hey Ruth. Can I ask a question and more likely a favour?”

  She tapped back a reply. “Sure. What’s up, stranger?”

  “A friend of mine has been the victim of revenge porn. Any way to find the files on the dark web? And where he posted them from? I’d like to cut him off.”

  “So would I if that’s what he’s been up to, but I’m really not sure if I’m clever enough to do that. Anonymous IP addresses and all. How serious?”

  “Serious enough to piss me off, though it happened a while back. She never got to the bottom of it so assumes they are still out there being viewed. Video.”

  “Shit. Privacy isn’t your own anymore. Do you know the sites, perhaps? What am I looking for?”

  “Good question. I’ll find out more and get back to you. Wanted to see if you could perhaps help. Hate to ask her for more details. Anything you can do without me having to ask?”

  “Maybe. I could probably do with a picture of her face. Might be able to find it with facial confirmation software perhaps, though it’s a long shot. It’s different from facial recognition software but could do the job. If the video is really low quality and grainy, it won’t work. Can you get me a picture, preferably from around the time it happened?”

  “Will see what I can do. Thanks, Ruth. I appreciate it. See you soon.”

  Ruth sat back in thought. The singing from upstairs had finally stopped, though she could hear Amanda moving about in the tub. It sounded like she was fart
ing but she knew the deep sounds were her backside or heels rubbing on the bottom of the cast iron as she washed. Still, it sounded funny in the quiet. Knowing Amanda’s routine, it wouldn’t be long before gurgling water would be heard as it emptied through the pipes and then ran down the outside of the building and into the drains of Croydon. Approximately five minutes after that, a rather pink and shiny-looking Amanda would emerge wrapped in her bathrobe, hair tied in a towel. How she stood such hot water Ruth could never understand.

  Who was Griffin seeing, she wondered? Not that it mattered. It was good that he was seeing someone; he wasn’t the easiest person to be around sometimes. Shy and eccentric were words that came to mind. She’d wondered in the past if he was somewhere on the spectrum; it wouldn’t have surprised her. He was hideously smart; everything had to be just so and on time, and since he’d lost a great deal of weight, he was looking great. Closing her laptop for the evening, not even sure what she had opened it for in the first place, she made a note in her grey matter to arrange to meet Griffin for coffee soon. His office wasn’t far from hers and it would be great to see how he was doing before the wedding. And now he had a friend in tow, she wanted to find out more, purely from a nosey point of view. She liked Griffin and his particular ways.

  A shuffling near the doorway diverted her attention to Amanda, dressed exactly as expected, with the addition of sheepskin slippers on her feet. She glowed like a pink candle, and Ruth smiled her affection across the room, landing slap-bang in the middle of Amanda’s chest. They hadn’t been together that long, a couple of years at most, but they’d both felt the connection when they’d first met during a case Amanda had been working on. Ruth had been involved because she ran the local community online page, which had discovered dog-nappers working in the area. Several dogs had been held for ransom money but then things had turned even uglier and Amanda had stepped in in her role with the police. Eventually the two of them had met, and the rest had slotted into place like the last two pieces of a jigsaw. And in a few short weeks, they’ll be getting married.

  “What are you smiling about? You look like you’ve been up to something the way you’re holding that laptop,” Amanda said mock-accusingly.

  “I was just chatting to Griffin, actually. And you’ll never guess. He’s got himself a girlfriend. Well, he didn’t quite call her that, but a woman knows these things,” she said, tapping the side of her nose as if to say ‘I know.’

  “Well, that’s great news. We’ll get to meet her as his plus-one at the wedding, I expect.” She took her towel off her head and her blond hair stood up at all angles.

  “I want to meet her, or find out more about her at least, long before the wedding, purely out of interest. I daresay we’ll be a bit occupied on the day and I don’t want to miss out.”

  “Such a Nosey Parker, Miss McGregor,” Amanda said, approaching her, “which brings me onto a very important subject.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Have you thought about our names, our surnames when we get married? Will we keep our existing ones or take each other’s?”

  “Hmm. I hadn’t given it much thought, to tell you the truth. What are your thoughts?” Ruth stood and the chair scraped noisily on the floor.

  “We could hyphenate, maybe. That way we get to keep them both. McGregor-Lacey. Lacey-McGregor.” Amanda tried them both on for size.

  Ruth said, “They both sound nice to me, though Lacey-McGregor sounds like Lacey is my middle name, don’t you think?”

  “Hmm, maybe. Let’s think about it. And the other options are to stay as we are now, which means no paperwork and our work names stay as they are, or we decide on something completely new.”

  “Now, I hadn’t thought about that. Something completely new, eh? Like “Monaco” or “Postlethwaite,” perhaps.” Ruth was enjoying teasing Amanda and knew exactly which way the naming was going to go. Amanda stood laughing inside the doorway.

  “Don’t laugh – Postlethwaite worked out well enough for Pete Postlethwaite, did it not?”

  “I think I’d rather go with Monaco if those are the two options. It worked out fine for Princess Grace!”

  “Well, that’s debatable. She died, remember? Car somersaulted over a cliff in the early eighties.”

  “Then let’s forget either of those two options and mull it over in our heads. We’ll have to figure it out before the big day. We can’t have him asking us as we put rings on each other’s fingers. It will be funny enough when he declares us ‘wife and wife.’ There’s bound to be someone in the congregation who still finds the concept amusing, even though they know us.”

  “I know, but I don’t suppose too many people have been to a same-sex wedding before, so we’ll forgive their ignorance.” Ruth fell thoughtful for a moment and Amanda knew exactly what she was thinking about. She strode over and wrapped her arm around Ruth’s shoulders and pecked her with a kiss on the cheek.

  “Your mum will be watching her gorgeous daughter from way up high. She’ll have the best seat in the house, and I know she’ll be smiling down on you.”

  “I know. But it would be nice to see her again, in person. There’s so much I want to say to her that I missed by being such a pig, and now it’s too late.”

  “I know you do.” The two women hugged tight, until Amanda was sure Ruth was okay. It was Ruth who pulled away first.

  “I’m fine. Thanks, love.” Looking up at Amanda, she added, “Oh, and my new name? It will be Ruth McGregor-Lacey. But you can call me Ruth Lacey.”

  Amanda smiled her delight and said, “I’ll let the registrar know.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Amanda and Jack were parked up not far from Stephanie’s place, sipping coffee. They had spoken to her at length about the night with Sebastian Stevens, and she had surprised them both with her idea of how it all connected. It did sound plausible, but where was the evidence? And where was ‘Chris Meeks’?

  “You ever had a really close friend who simply up and disappeared, Lacey? One that you didn’t try too hard to track down, see if they were alright?” Jack was asking the questions and couldn’t quite get his head around the fact that Stephanie and this Chris fellow had lost touch so abruptly after having had such a close friendship. Did people do that?

  “I guess she and everyone else thought he’d gone off and found someone special and settled down. Nothing sinister to wonder about in a regular guy’s life. Why would there be?” She wrinkled her nose. “Did you get sugar in this coffee? It tastes sweet.”

  “Well, I didn’t ask for any. I’m trying to give it up. Want to swap?”

  “No thanks. Your lips have been all over it.”

  “Then swap the lid over. I thought you were a detective, full of sharp ideas.”

  “My repertoire doesn’t include my own practicalities,” she said peeling the lid off her paper cup. Jack followed suit. When their cups had been swapped and lids reattached, Jack took a sip and winced.

  “See?” said Amanda. “Definitely sugar in there, and a lot. Detectives know this shit.” Sipping her own, she added, “That’s better,” and smiled at Jack, knowing just what he was thinking. He never said a word about the coffee and steered the conversation back to grounds he could win on: the case.

  “So we have a name, which may or may not be his real one. A date that goes back fifteen years and one recent victim. There could be others, but we have no idea one way or another at this point and diddly-squat else to go on. How are we meant to solve this one? Any ideas?”

  Amanda could hear the exasperation in his voice. In truth, she had no clue either. “Well, a couple of other officers have begun looking into what little we do have. There are about twenty Chris Meekses that fit his age range, and they’re narrowing it down for location and job etcetera, so I’m hoping there will be a shortlist of them to talk to very soon. Hopefully he didn’t move too far afield. We have his picture from back then, so even if he’s changed his appearance, grown his hair out or whatever, we should b
e able to match his old picture with one of them. I’m hoping, anyway.”

  Her phone rang and she rummaged in her bag to retrieve it. Looking at the screen she added, “This could be news now.” She answered, “DS Lacey. You’ve some news, I’m hoping.” The car was quiet as Amanda listened to what the caller back at the station was saying, and Jack waited patiently.

  “Thanks. That gives us something,” she said at last, and hung up. Turning to Jack she said, “Seems our boy is a clever so-and-so, a bit of a geek. And the ‘Chris Meeks’ we know him as has been in trouble before, though not under that exact name. We have his charge sheet as Chris Smeeks, subtly different but him just the same. A clever bugger online; got done for hacking some years ago. Never did any time, but guess what he hacked into?”

  “A ham sandwich? Come on, Lacey. I’ve no idea, have I? Spit it out.”

  “He hacked into a model agency’s database. But this particular model agency deals in . . .” She paused for effect. There was almost a drumroll in the air. “. . . body parts. Feet, hands, hair, teeth – you name it, they have a perfectly photogenic body part for your every need.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Exactly. So they’re definitely linked now. That’s too much of a coincidence, and since we don’t believe in coincidences...” Amanda paused again. “And apparently, after the breach, a chap was cautioned for becoming too much of a nuisance outside their offices – waiting for girls to come out, wanting to talk to them, offering them money and all manner of weird stuff. Spooked the girls, and he was cautioned.”