by Jack Probyn
Jake tapped his knuckles on Roland’s door. He entered as soon as he heard a response.
‘Ah!’ Roland yelled, rising out of his seat as he caught sight of Jake. ‘My good friend, how are you?’
Roland was a larger-than-life character with a larger-than-life stomach. His diet consisted solely of beer and curry, and whenever Jake saw him around the building, he was always eating a snack or packet of crisps from the vending machine in the canteen.
‘Things are well,’ he lied. ‘Things are well.’
‘That’s good to hear. Elizabeth?’
‘Fine. Baby number two will be with us soon.’
‘That’s excellent, my friend.’ Roland embraced Jake and slapped him heartily on the back. ‘When do you leave?’
‘Paternity starts in two weeks’ time,’ Jake said as they let go of one another.
‘Part-timer.’ Roland winked. ‘I’m glad you came down. There’s a lot I need to tell you.’
Jake grabbed a seat and sat opposite. ‘I’m listening.’
Roland reached behind his desk and grabbed a plastic evidence bag. Inside it was Steven Arnholt’s laptop. Roland pulled it out of the bag and placed it on the table. Jake held his breath.
‘It took me a while, but—’
‘You can say that again…’
Roland raised a fat hand in Jake’s face. ‘Listen. I consider it more of a test of my skills when I’m faced with a challenge this hard. Whatever this person had on here, they were intent on making sure nobody else found it.’
‘And did you?’
‘I said it was hard, not impossible.’
Jake scurried round the side of the table and came to a stop beside Roland, leaning closer to the screen. His body trembled with excitement. This was the first piece of solid evidence they were going to get. And it meant they would be closer to the killer.
The home screen loaded, and Jake was met with an image of Steven and Jessica smiling fervently at the camera. In the background was the Grand Canyon. They looked happy, untouchable, as though there wasn’t a morsel of evil anywhere near them. How their lives were completely separate beneath the layer of the photograph. Jake supposed that was what photos were: a hyper-real representation of life – someone’s, anyone’s – that wasn’t minutely close to reality.
Roland moved the cursor and opened a piece of software called TorStream, breaking Jake from his reverie. The software icon was a dark circle with a yellow camera in the middle. Jake had never seen it before, and as Roland clicked on it, he rubbed his thumb on the underside of his fingers in anticipation.
‘It’s the Dark Web,’ Roland said, beginning a running commentary of what he was doing. ‘There are various applications and software out there that get you to different parts of the Dark Web.’
‘Different parts?’
‘Yeah. So if you like little children, you’ll use one programme. If you like beheading people, another. Terrorism, several. And so on.’
Jake blew through his lips.
Roland continued, ‘This particular one gets us to some sort of sadistic and sordid sex-gang culture – not too far from the child porn ring.’ Roland tapped the mouse a few times and the images on the screen changed. ‘I thought you’d want to see this first. I trawled through Steven’s browsing history. The problem is, because it’s the Dark Web, it constantly deletes browsing history and buries it deep within the web so you can’t find it.’
‘But you did?’
Roland grinned. ‘Everything leaves a trace, Jake. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.’ He tapped the mouse again, and the screen loaded up a web page. The header across the top was black with red writing, while the rest of the page was predominantly red interspersed with injections of black and white.
‘The Community?’ Jake said, reading the banner.
‘That’s one word to describe it,’ Roland retorted.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Pointing at the screen, Roland said, ‘Look.’
The web page was a blog-feed filled with thumbnails of pornographic images, and to the right-hand side of them, snapshots of comments that other users had made. At the bottom of the page was a leader board. There were twenty names in total – with the option to scroll through more of the rankings – and points next to each name.
‘Twelve thousand points,’ Jake said. ‘Ten. Nine. Seven and a half. Four thousand, three hundred and seventy-five.’ He paused as his eyes scanned the page. ‘Do we know what you get points for?’
Roland moved the cursor and clicked on a link at the top of the page.
‘There are instructions,’ he explained.
As Jake read through the list, he squinted. Users were able to acquire points based on sexual acts they committed with other members of The Community.
Three hundred for anal intercourse.
One hundred for vaginal.
Fifty for oral.
Twenty-five for anything else.
‘Jesus,’ Jake said, feeling his mouth become moist with saliva. ‘Sixteen thousand points. Who’s top?’
‘TheTopDog,’ Roland replied.
‘Can we view his profile?’
‘Yes. But there’s nothing there.’
Jake leant back in his chair and exhaled deeply. ‘Do you know how it works?’
‘Unfortunately, I do.’
CHAPTER 41
THE COMMUNITY
‘It’s called The Community,’ Jake said to Drew and Garrison in the MIR. Both men were standing over him, watching the screen. ‘And it’s essentially an online swinger’s forum but with a dark twist. There are just over fifteen thousand members – and it’s growing quite rapidly; we’ve had two people sign up in the past hour – and the aim is to meet up with like-minded people – meaning sadists and masochists. Then you organise what you want to do with them, where you want to do it, and then you go and do it. They call it an act of Communion. And you get points depending on which sexual acts you take part in. In order to get the points, you have to document it with either photographs or video evidence. That’s the most important part,’ Jake explained. ‘Members need to have proof that they’ve done what they claim to, otherwise they don’t get the points.’
‘Is this legal?’ Garrison asked, shovelling a digestive in his mouth. ‘Sounds fucked up to me.’
‘I mean… if everything’s consensual…’ Jake responded.
‘Who polices it?’ Drew asked, his voice sounding intrigued.
‘The site’s creator. Someone named S. That’s all we know about him. Or her.’ Jake paused. ‘Most members submit videos and put them on the news feed. Sort of like a pornographic version of YouTube. There seems to be a correlation with points and video views too, because people’s ranks are changing every second. Instead of being paid royalties for the amount of views they get, they get points that contribute to their standing in the leader board. The more views, the more points.’
‘I bet you anything that S – or whoever the fuck he is – is sitting there jacking off to every video he gets ten times a day.’ Garrison said with his mouth half full.
‘Who’s at the top of the leader board?’ Drew asked. He grabbed a chair and joined Jake.
‘Someone called TheTopDog.’
‘Original title,’ Garrison retorted over Jake’s shoulder.
‘Where are Steven and Jessica on the leader board?’ Drew asked beside him.
‘Fifth. They’ve got about ten thousand points – a mile off TheTopDog in comparison to everyone else beneath them.’
‘How do they communicate with one another?’
‘Via message. The platform has a direct chat feature.’ Jake opened up Steven and Jessica Arnholt’s Community inbox.
Silence fell over them as the three men read from the screen.
‘There are loads,’ Drew said. ‘They’ve been busy.’
‘They’ve messaged everyone in the top twenty,’ Garrison added.
‘Including Jessica Mann,’ Drew said, pointin
g at the screen. ‘Forty-five days ago. The three of them were together.’
‘This is helluva community,’ Garrison said. ‘You sure this isn’t illegal?’
Jake hesitated. ‘I mean, there isn’t anyone under the age of eighteen on here.’
‘How do you know?’ Drew asked.
‘Roland checked beforehand. As part of the sign-up process you have to select your age – you can’t be under the age of eighteen. It’s part of the rules.’
Drew sniggered. ‘There’s nothing stopping a fifteen-year-old from saying they’re eighteen.’
‘Granted. But when you sign up, you’re required to enter credit-card details. On the surface, it looks all above board. But if we began to dig deeper into it, I’m sure we’d unearth a few things.’
‘Yeah,’ Garrison said, chuckling. He swatted Drew on the shoulder with the back of his hand. ‘We’d probably find Drew lurking on the bottom of the leader board, sitting on zero points because no one wants to fuck him. Not even his wife.’
‘Fuck you,’ Drew spat, giving Garrison the finger.
Jake and Garrison burst into laughter, and for a split second, Jake felt like he was back in the group again. Part of the gang. As though his performance regulation had been completely forgotten about. But that was all over as soon as Drew opened his mouth again.
‘What else do we need to know? How’s it funded?’ Drew asked, restoring balance and calm to the group.
‘It’s a subscription model. Members pay S a fee of £2 a month.’
‘One of the most reasonably priced subscriptions I’ve ever heard of,’ Garrison said. ‘Even The Guardian charges a fiver.’
‘If you’re such an advocate, maybe we should sign you up. See what sort of trouble you get up to.’
‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
‘Guys!’ Jake said, attempting to restore the peace. ‘Come on. Four people are dead and the only thing linking three of them is this Community. If we can work out who the creator is, then he can give us the person responsible.’
‘You think S knows who he is?’ Drew asked.
‘He must do. These sorts of people are committed to getting higher scores. Look.’ Jake pointed at the leader board. ‘It’s midday and people are already rising through the ranks. They’re busy. They’re at it. They’re determined to become the best of the best. That’s what the killer is trying to do – he’s trying to become the very best. He’s meeting up with other members because he knows they’ll agree to his demands, and then he—’
‘That doesn’t explain why he’s killing them,’ Garrison said.
He was right. It didn’t.
‘Perhaps with Steven and Jessica Arnholt it got out of hand, and ever since then he’s been trying to relive that night. Trying to relive what it was like to spend the first night with the first Jessica.’
‘What are you saying?’ Drew asked.
Jake shuffled his body around so that he faced them both. ‘I’m saying that Jessica Arnholt is the catalyst. There’s a reason all the other girls have been called Jessica, and they all look exactly the same as Arnholt. He’s targeting lookalikes with the same name.’
‘So we need to lock up all the Jessicas in a fifteen-mile radius, keep them indoors between the hours of 9 p.m. and 7 a.m., and make sure they don’t speak to strangers?’
Jake scowled at Drew. Why was he being such an arsehole?
‘Take this seriously, Drew. These are people’s lives we’re playing with here.’
Drew folded his arms. ‘All right then, boss.’ The last word was replete with venom. ‘What’s our next step? What do we need to do?’
‘It’s like I said,’ Jake replied, pulling out his phone. ‘Our guy could be anyone of the fifteen thousand accounts left. But the one who’ll know who it is faster than anyone else is S. We find him, and he gives us the killer.’
‘And how are we going to find him, genius?’
Jake sighed. The personal insults were gradually beginning to wear him down, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. He liked to think he was thick-skinned, but this was something else – throughout college and university he’d been adored and befriended by many. He’d been liked. He’d had friends. And he’d gained even more sympathy friends after he’d nearly died in an avalanche during a snowboarding trip with the university. But he’d never been subject to ridicule and belittling that, he hated to admit, bordered on bullying. It was a completely alien concept to him – one he had no experience of how to handle.
‘Fortunately for you,’ Jake began, ‘Roland’s been working on it since we’ve been talking, and…’ Jake looked at his phone. Right on cue it began ringing. He answered. ‘Roland! Yes…? Excellent… Hero… Send it to my email. I owe you one. We owe you one.’
Almost as quickly as he’d answered, Jake rung off and placed the phone on the table slowly.
‘Roland’s managed to find S’s address. And we’re going there now.’
CHAPTER 42
MUMMY’S BOY
Denise Tanner placed a cup of green tea on the coffee table beside Elizabeth.
‘I hope it’s all right,’ Denise said, sitting on the sofa opposite. ‘When I was pregnant with Laura, I didn’t stop drinking green tea. The small dose of caffeine kept me up all night because I was drinking so many… I suppose that explains why Laura was such a handful and was always awake when she was supposed to be sleeping. Only got myself to blame really.’
Elizabeth chuckled awkwardly. They had just got back from the hospital and she was feeling tired. Her body ached. Her legs ached. Her back ached. Her neck ached. Her stomach ached. She was convinced she was going to be admitted to a bed for the rest of her life due to the toll the pregnancy was taking on her bones and muscles.
‘Are you OK?’ Denise asked, setting cup on the saucer.
Elizabeth sipped and swallowed. The liquid scalded her mouth, but she tried not to show it.
‘I’m just nervous,’ she replied.
‘Oh, Liz. Everything will be fine. You’ve been through it once before, so you know what to expect. Besides, I’m here for you if you need help, and so are your parents.’
‘I…’ Elizabeth hesitated. ‘I wasn’t talking about the birth. Although, I am still nervous about that – because I know what’s coming it makes me more afraid of the things that could go wrong. I was talking about Jake.’
‘Jake?’ Denise retorted, her maternal instinct overwhelming her. ‘Why are you nervous about Jake?’
Elizabeth said nothing. Instead, she sipped more of her tea, wished she’d said nothing and looked out of the window; a car drove past and a mother pushed a pram while a child skipped by her side.
‘Liz?’ Denise pushed.
‘Nothing. Don’t worry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Forget I mentioned it.’
Denise lifted herself off the sofa and joined Elizabeth’s side. She placed her hand on her daughter-in-law’s knee. ‘You can tell me, Liz. Especially when it comes to my son. If he does anything to hurt you, trust me I’ll whip him back into shape. And that’s a promise.’
Elizabeth forced a smile. It was a nice gesture, one that she determined Denise wasn’t joking about judging from her tone.
‘It’s just… It’s his work. He’s been really busy these past few weeks, and I’m afraid that he’s not going to be there for the kids. He’s not going to be there for me when I need him. I’m worried he’ll prioritise his work over everything else.’
‘Do you resent him having his job?’ Denise asked, her tone soft and soothing.
‘No! Not at all. I love that he loves what he does. And I’m so proud of him. I wouldn’t want him to stop because of me. I just want him to be there… I want him to be here, you know?’
Denise leant closer. ‘I do, love. I do. When Ian and I first started out with Laura, we didn’t know what we were doing. We made loads of mistakes. We thought we could just carry on the way our lives used to be. But it didn’t work like that. We learnt that pr
etty early on – well, I say “we”, but it was actually me who noticed first… Ian was a little slow. But he got there in the end. He realised that he couldn’t spend all his time at work, and that he needed to sacrifice some evenings with his friends to support Laura and me. And if Jake is anything like his dad – and, trust me, I’ve known him long enough to know that he is – then he’ll be the same. It’ll just take him a little while to realise it. Obviously, being a police officer is completely different to a physiotherapist – they’re at opposite ends of the spectrum – but I’m just trying to tell you to have some patience with him. Trust him. He’ll come out all right. And I think you know, deep down, that he will too. I mean, you’re having another one of his babies! And if he doesn’t sort himself out, then you can always tell me, and I’ll kick his arse into gear. He’s a mummy’s boy – can’t say no.’
Elizabeth chuckled, but it was weak. She felt a little better, but not enough for her to be able to forget about it entirely. She loved her husband – would do anything for him – but she hoped he would prove it was reciprocated sooner rather than later.
‘Thank you, Denise,’ Elizabeth said, squeezing her mother-in-law’s hand. ‘Thank you. I really do appreciate it. You’ve been amazing throughout all of this… and with Maisie too.’
‘You’re welcome, love. I just wish Ian was here to have met you, and to watch you both grow into the wonderful young adults you are.’ Tears formed in the corners of Denise’s eyes. She avoided Elizabeth’s gaze and spotted something on the coffee table. ‘What’s this?’
Denise rose from the sofa and picked up an orange card.
‘I have no idea…’ Elizabeth replied.
Denise returned to the sofa and handed it to her. Elizabeth inspected the Congratulations card and read the messages inside. One of them stuck out.
