Tanzy didn’t reply, instead looked over to the right. At the top, it had a box with the title ‘Current players’ and under the title, there were three names.
Dwalt66.
Spork11.
RCarl20.
He pointed to RCarl20 and said, ‘He’s our guy. That’s Mackenzie Dilton. That’s the same user who uploaded those videos online. He’s a part of’—Tanzy raised his palms towards the screen—‘this. Whatever this is.’
Under the names, it had '6 days until next game’ and underneath that, was a separate tab with the word ‘watchers’ on. In brackets next to ‘watchers’ was the number 1023.
‘What the fuck is this?’ Tanzy said, placing his palms on his head. It was so warm in the office, he felt sweat running down his back.
‘I don’t understand,’ Fallows said. ‘Some kind of game?’
Tanzy didn’t know what to say because he didn’t fully understand it. He edged a little closer, trying to see the girl on the video feed better, but couldn’t make out her details. He picked up his phone to ring Byrd but as he dialled the number and put it to his ear, the screen changed back to the first page again, asking them to input the password again.
Tanzy jerked back. ‘No! Where did it go?’
Fallows looked at the screen.
Username – Dwalt66.
Password – please enter.
‘Shit. Where’s it gone?’
Across town, Mitch had noticed Dwalt66 had logged on. It had appeared as a notification in the bottom half of the screen. It was a good job he glanced at it because him and Brad were discussing where they’d get the next victims from.
‘Hold on a second,’ Mitch said quickly. ‘Dwalt66 is online.’
‘How’s that possible?’ Brad frowned and slid his chair over. ‘He’s dead, isn’t he?’
‘Hold on,’ said Mitch. ‘I’ll find the IP address, see where it is.’
It didn’t take him very long to locate the current IP Address of Dwalt66.
‘Oh, hell no!’ Mitch shouted, then quickly tapped the keyboard. ‘There. They are logged back out. They can’t see anymore.’
‘What’s wrong – who was it?’ Brad said, confused at what was happening.
‘It wasn’t Dwalt66 watching. It was the police.’
61
Monday Morning
Police Station
Tanzy was the last one to enter the meeting room. He could feel all eyes watching him, including DCI Fuller’s, as he closed the door and made his way to the whiteboard. A little earlier he’d heard Fuller in his office, speaking with someone on the phone. The way he was talking and the language he used indicated it was not a friendly conversation. Tanzy and Byrd had heard him defending his team, so they assumed it was Barry Eckles or possibly someone higher, asking why the results weren’t coming. They had a point. There were too many open investigations with too many unanswered questions and minimal leads.
‘Morning,’ said Tanzy addressing the room. He stopped next to Byrd, who greeted him with a nod.
‘Morning,’ PC Weaver replied.
‘Morning,’ DC Leonard added.
No one else said anything. Saying good morning in that context was more of a courteous rhetorical statement, especially if he’d already spoken with some of the individuals beforehand.
In the meeting was the usual team, plus Linda Fallows, who’d just arrived. The senior forensics, Jacob Tallow, and Emily Hope were there, too, as was the forensic trainee, Amanda Forrest.
Tanzy nodded at Byrd, who was holding the remote. Byrd pressed the button and the first slide appeared, telling everyone the day, date, and a title ‘Updates’ underneath.
‘I hope everyone has had a good weekend and had some rest,’ Tanzy started. ‘This week will be a busy one. To the ones who don’t know, we found Rachel Hammond in a property on Elton Road on Friday, tied to a chair sitting opposite her boyfriend, who was also tied up. There was a video posted online by RCarl20, the same user who uploaded the house fire video and the shocking footage of Jane Ericson falling from the flat, indicating it’s his third victim and—’
‘Sixth victim,’ DC Cornty said.
Tanzy jerked his head towards him. It was too early for his sarcasm and witty cleverness. ‘I’m sorry, Phil?’
‘It’s his sixth victim, sir.’
Tanzy frowned.
‘Four victims died in the fire. Then Jane Ericson. Now Rachel. That makes six. Actually seven, if we include her boyfriend, Aaron.’
Byrd sighed loud enough for only Tanzy to hear. DCI Fuller, who was sitting to the detective's left, in the seat he usually sat in, glanced over to him, also not impressed by his comment. It didn’t help that the air con wasn’t working either. The room was hot and stuffy, the air stagnant and irritating.
Tanzy took a deep breath. ‘His third occasion, shall we say?’
Cornty nodded his approval.
‘So… his third occasion. We know from Jane Ericson that Mackenzie Dilton, the man we are looking for, left a business card on her laptop. It was an electrician’s card with the name Roger Carlton. We know that Roger Carlton is a character who he admired from an old American show.’
Several nods responded.
‘Eric, you wouldn’t mind opening that window, would you?’ DCI Fuller asked Timms, who was closest to it. ‘It’s too hot in here.’
Timms nodded, went over to the window, and opened it, then returned to his seat.
‘On Jane’s laptop,’ Tanzy continued, ‘Mac found a frequently visited website called www.attheend.com. He tried accessing the site but said it was very strange. Apparently, it had layers upon layers of security he couldn’t break through. I did some digging but didn’t find a thing on www.attheend.com, so I can’t be sure what it is. What I can be sure of is, when we found Rachel Hammond and after searching the house, there was another business card upstairs, on top of her closed laptop. The business card was Roger Carlton Hot tubs. Now we believe Mackenzie Dilton posed as a guy renting out hot tubs this time and got in her house that way.’
PC Weaver raised her slender hand. Her hair was different today. Curled. She looked stunning.
‘Yes, Amy?’ said Tanzy.
‘So, he posed as a carpet cleaner, then an electrician, now a guy renting out hot tubs?’
Tanzy nodded.
‘Seems so,’ added Byrd.
Weaver gave a sad smile.
‘The business card that he left on her laptop had a number written on, along with a message. The message said look on the laptop and to call him.’
‘Did you phone the number?’ PC Andrews asked, over to the right.
Tanzy said, ‘Max did,’ then turned to him.
‘It was him. Mackenzie Dilton,’ informed Byrd. ‘He told me that he would kill them all.’
‘Who?’ Fallows said over to their left, sitting next to Fuller.
‘He said everyone who deserves it.’
Silence filled the large room for a few moments.
‘What did you find on Rachel’s laptop?’ DC Anne Tiffin asked.
Tanzy nodded. ‘The same website as we did on Jane’s laptop. But as before, we couldn’t access it.’ He turned to Byrd, who pressed the button. The screen behind them changed. ‘It comes up with this.’
On the screen, it showed the website www.attheend.com. Apart from the message in the rectangular box asking for a username and password, the page was blank.
‘What is it?’ Fuller asked, leaning forward.
‘The site that both Rachel Hammond and Jane Ericson had been on.’
‘Do you know the password or login?’
Tanzy shook his head at Fuller. ‘Unfortunately not.’ He then turned to the room. ‘After noticing the same website, it got me thinking. What if Danny Walters had also been on this site.’
DC Anne Tiffin nodded in agreement, as did Amy Weaver.
‘We didn’t find a laptop in the house, Ori,’ Tallow said.
‘I know. I went there to check, though, j
ust in case. You’re right, Jacob, with what you’re saying. There was no laptop downstairs or upstairs. But on the set of keys that evidence had, there was another key which opened what looked like a boiler cupboard on the landing.’
‘I remember seeing it. Tried it but it was locked,’ Tallow replied.
Tanzy smiled. ‘There was a set of ladders that led to an attic. Up there, was a wardrobe, and inside, a laptop, which I assume had been hidden out of the way of the children. We brought it back to the station – Linda and me – to have a look. Danny Walter’s last visited site had been attheend.com, so we clicked on it. His browser had somehow saved his username and password login so we logged in.’
The room suddenly became dead quiet, everyone listening to what was coming next.
‘There was a screen on the left, showing a woman sitting on a blanket on the floor of a room with her head tucked into her knees. The room looked big but empty. There was only her. It was as if her being there was not her choice. On the right-hand side of the site page, there was a tab with the word players. There were three names. One of them was Danny Walters's name. I remember that one. Dwalt66. The others I can’t. Under that tab, there was another tab saying, ‘Watchers’ with a number over a thousand. Then, out of now where, it logged me out taking me back to the first page. I didn’t know his password so couldn’t get back on. It did say, however, six days until the next game. That was Saturday morning.’
‘So four days from now?’ Fuller replied. ‘Friday is the day. Whatever game this is, it’s happening Friday.’
Tanzy nodded, although he wasn’t sure enough to confirm anything.
‘Do you think this is Mackenzie Dilton?’ asked PC Weaver.
Tanzy’s nod wasn’t confident. ‘I’m led to believe it is, although I can’t be certain. If this is the link between Danny Walters, Jane Ericson, and Rachel Hammond, which so far seems to be, then perhaps Dilton knows.’ Tanzy paused and frowned suddenly.
‘What is it?’ Fuller asked him, noticing his expression change.
Tanzy scowled, turning to Linda. ‘Linda, did you see RCarl20 as one of the players?’
She thought for a moment, her thin blonde eyebrows arching towards the centre of her forehead. ‘I don’t know… maybe, Ori. I can’t be sure.’
‘It went off so quickly. But I’m going to stick with my gut and say that one of the players was RCarl20.’
‘So he’s playing the game too – whatever game it is?’ Tiffin probed.
Tanzy offered a simple shrug.
‘So,’ Fuller said, standing abruptly. ‘In four days, there’s a game?’
‘Seems so, sir,’ answered Byrd, unsure of why Fuller had stood.
‘Whatever this fucking game is isn’t good and will probably lead to another death. And I’ll tell you something, after the conversation I’ve just had with Barry Eckles, is something I can’t let happen. It would be bad for all of us. And I mean all of us. Now, get your fucking acts together and find Mackenzie Dilton.’ He turned, picked up his chair, and threw it into the wall, causing a loud smack. A few of them flinched, Linda Fallows more than anyone as she was closest to him. The plaster on the wall dented and fell away in small pieces to the carpet.
Fuller left the room and slammed the door behind him.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room until Byrd asked, ‘Any questions?’
62
Monday Late Morning
Police Station
Byrd and Tanzy returned to their desks, followed by Linda Fallows, who took a right and sat down on the desk across from them.
She caught Tanzy’s eye, pointed towards Fuller’s office, and whispered, ‘He doesn’t seem very pleased.’
Tanzy rolled his eyes, implying it was nothing to worry about it.
‘So,’ Byrd said, getting comfortable, ‘what’s our plan, Ori?’
Tanzy leaned back a little, thinking. ‘We need to know what this website is.’ He then sat up straight. ‘I’ve looked and looked. There’s nothing on it.’ He pulled himself in and started typing away.
Byrd considered his response and turned to his own computer. Before doing anything, he picked up his phone and phoned Claire to check up on her.
Fallows wheeled herself over to Tanzy, stopping next to him. ‘We’ve had water, fire, and air, Ori.’ Tanzy turned his attention to her. ‘Earth is next, I’m sure of it.’
Tanzy nodded but didn’t want to believe it. But, as things stood, he couldn’t deny it was a possibility unless they got their arses in gear, found out what was on the site and Mackenzie Dilton’s involvement.
‘We’ll see,’ Tanzy replied quietly to her.
She rolled herself back across the aisle to the desk she was using. ‘I’ll do some more digging on earth, Ori. See what I come up with.’
First, Tanzy checked his emails, looking for the reports from the people who were at Rachel Hammond’s house on Friday. He was missing one report.
DS Stockdale’s.
Narrowing his eyes, he checked his emails again but couldn’t find his report. He stood up, peered over the desks, searching for him at the back but was nowhere to be seen. He frowned as he sat, trying to remember if he’d seen him in the meeting.
He angled his body to Byrd, who had just ended the call with Claire.
‘How is she?’
Byrd nodded. ‘She’s good. Her friend Becca is there keeping her company. The doctor gave her some pills for the pain.’
‘Good.’ Tanzy paused a moment, not wanting to move on too quickly. ‘Have you seen Phil Stockdale today?’
Byrd thought for a few seconds. ‘Don’t think so. Was he not in the meeting?’
‘Did you see him?’
‘Now I think about it. No, I didn’t.’
‘Weird.’ Tanzy glanced down at his watch. ‘There’s no reason for him not to be here?’
‘Unless he’s out and about?’
‘He didn’t report in this morning,’ Tanzy said. He turned to Fallows. ‘Have you seen DS Stockdale this morning?’
‘Which one is that?’ she replied, with a shrug.
‘Never mind.’ He stood. ‘I’m going to look for him. I need his report on what happened at Rachel Hammond’s house on Friday. Plus, I’m not too sure he’s in the right frame of mind. I need to see how he’s doing.’
Byrd looked at him in understanding. ‘You worried about him?’
Tanzy gave a small shrug. ‘A little, Max. Yeah. I’ll see where he is.’
He left Byrd and Fallows, made his way down the aisle toward the other end, a spring of urgency in his step. From the walkway, he couldn’t see Stockdale at his desk, only his empty chair. He turned around and asked Leonard, ‘You seen Phil today?’
Leonard glanced up at him, said he hadn’t.
Tanzy moved past Leonard, and stopped next to Cornty, who was typing an email. ‘You seen Phil today?’
Cornty pressed SEND and swivelled quickly on his chair. ‘No, boss. Not today.’
‘Okay.’
‘But…’ Cornty added with a finger in the air.
Tanzy was mid-turn so swivelled back. ‘Yeah?’
‘I’m sure he said something on Friday about taking his kid to the opticians.’ Cornty nodded. ‘I’m sure he did.’
Tanzy looked at Leonard, who had stopped doing typing. ‘You hear him say that – about the opticians?’
Leonard said he hadn’t. ‘Sorry, boss.’
Tanzy left the office, made his way down the corridor, and went to reception. Lisa was sitting behind her desk, reading something positioned behind her computer screen out of sight, which Tanzy guessed was a woman’s mag. She dragged herself away from whatever it was and looked up hearing his approaching footsteps.
‘Hey, Ori,’ she said, cheerfully.
‘Is Phil Stockdale in today?’ he said, straight to the point.
She considered the question, then grabbed the mouse and looked down at the screen in front of her. The woman’s magazine that Tanzy assumed was in fac
t a textbook on Criminal Law. He smiled inside for getting it so wrong.
A few moments later, she said, ‘Doesn’t look like he clocked in this morning, sir.’
Tanzy thanked her and went out to the car park. Among the cars, he couldn’t see Stockdale’s. He picked his phone from his pocket, found his number, and frowned. There was a missed call from Stockdale last night at 10.27 p.m.. Tanzy couldn’t remember it, wondering why he hadn’t realised or answered it. He called him but it went straight to the answerphone.
‘C’mon, Phil. Where are you?’ he whispered to himself.
Just before he put his phone away it rang. The number on the screen was one he didn’t recognise, ending in two four seven. He accepted the call. ‘Hello?’
‘Is that Detective Inspector Orion Tanzy?’ It was a woman’s voice, sounding concerned.
‘Speaking. Who’s this?’ Tanzy asked, frowning, watching cars and vans pass by on St. Cuthbert’s Way through the fence.
‘My name is Joan Stockdale. Phil is my husband.’
‘Okay…’
‘This might sound strange, but have you seen him today?’
‘I – I haven’t. One of the guys said he might be taking his son to the opticians?’
‘Our son? Josh?’
‘I… don’t know,’ admitted Tanzy, feeling bad he didn’t know his son’s name.
‘Josh is at school. He doesn’t even have glasses. There’d be no reason to take him to the opticians.’
‘Joan, when was the last time you saw Phil?’ Tanzy started slowly walking up the path.
‘Last night. He said he needed to clear his head to think. Recently, he’s…’
‘He’s what, Joan?’ Tanzy stopped to concentrate on her response, blocking out the sound of the passing traffic along the main road.
‘He hasn’t been himself. He’s been spending a lot of time on his phone and his laptop. I’—she sighed heavily—‘I think he might be gambling again. Has he said anything to you or his friends?’
Tanzy thought hard, knowing Stockdale hadn’t quite been himself but knew he had to be careful the way he answered. The last thing he wanted to do was worry her more than she already was.
No One's Safe: DI Max Byrd & DI Orion Tanzy book 3 Page 21
