“Good God,” Neil groaned. D.D. seconded that vote.
“Our best guess,” O continued, “validated by this transcript, is that these teenagers aren’t fighting their deviant sexual fantasies. Instead, they’re logging on to the Internet, where they’re finding validation for their impulses and even tips for how to engage in these inappropriate acts. Basically, hard-core pedophiles are using Internet chat rooms to train the next generation of child molesters, which is accelerating the predator cycle.”
“I’m never using my computer again,” D.D. said.
“Please,” Phil said tiredly. “We spent all night reading the logs from these kinds of chat rooms. Now I have to go home and bleach my eyeballs.”
“You keep saying transcripts,” D.D. said. “What does that mean?”
“Victim number two,” Phil supplied, “Stephen Laurent, downloaded some of the chat room logs onto his hard drive. Including one that details how to use a puppy to approach young children. A second chat describes how to create a following on various kids’ websites in order to attract potential victims. It’s very detailed, including tips for how to determine which ‘e-victims’ live in close enough geographic proximity to become ‘physical victims.’”
“He was building a manual,” Neil said flatly. “A fucking perverts manual on his hard drive. Complete with photos.”
O reached over and lightly touched the back of Neil’s hand. The redheaded detective flinched, sat up straighter.
“You want help?” O asked kindly. “I’ve gone through those kinds of photos before. I can assist if you’d like.”
“I can’t see ’em anymore. It’s just…I’ve stopped viewing them as kids. And that’s wrong. Too wrong. I can’t do it anymore.” Neil turned his stare to D.D. “I’m done.”
She nodded immediately. “You’re done. Absolutely. And you’re right, Neil. They’re kids. They deserve to be seen as kids. The fact you recognize you’ve hit your limit is a good thing. It does right by them. Thank you.”
“I don’t think they’re his victims,” Neil said.
Phil looked at him. “What d’you mean?”
“Made it through four out of six boxes. The photos themselves are too eclectic. There are Polaroids from the eighties, faded shots from the seventies. Subjects are boys, girls, young kids, teenagers, black, white, Hispanic, urban, house, hotel. I think Laurent collected the shots-I don’t know, bought them online, traded for them from other collectors…” He looked at Detective O.
She nodded. “Sure, pedophiles have always traded graphic images, videos, etc. For some predators, visual aids even do the trick for them. You’d be amazed how many ‘family men’ we’ve busted for owning child porn, who claim the porn was ‘good for them.’ Kept them from committing the actual act.”
“I hate this case,” Neil muttered.
D.D. didn’t disagree with him, but she was getting confused. “So are you saying Stephen Laurent might not have been an active child molester, but a porn collector?”
“I’m saying that model exists,” Detective O stated, “but I doubt Laurent was a passive pedophile. He was not only downloading transcripts on how to engage in illegal behaviors, but remember, he’d also gotten a puppy.”
“Do pedophiles escalate?” D.D. asked. “So maybe Laurent started with child porn, but was now graduating to child molestation?”
“Sure. And to a large extent, that’s what these chat rooms are all about. Giving a weak, low-self-esteem, usually male perpetrator the acceptance, tools, and coaching to finally act out his sexually deviant fantasies. There are chat rooms for rapists, too, by the way. Probably serial killers as well.”
“I hate this case,” Neil said again.
But D.D. had an idea. “So judging from that cycle, what is Stephen Laurent? The mentor or the intern?”
“Intern,” O said without missing a beat. She turned to look at Phil. “That’s basically what we saw on his computer, right? The understudy gathering information on his next, starring role.”
Phil nodded his agreement.
“And the first shooting victim,” D.D. asked quickly. “Antiholde. He went to these chat rooms, too?”
“Same chat room,” Phil provided.
“Trainer or trainee?”
“Trainer,” Phil said flatly. “Given his criminal history. The second victim, Laurent, hadn’t been caught yet. Our first victim, Antiholde had already been caught and paroled. I bet he visited the chat room for two reasons-to brag about past exploits, while trying to improve his technique for future offenses. Definitely a more experienced predator than Laurent.”
“But still seeking more information, guidance,” D.D. said.
“Pedophiles are always seeking more information,” O said bluntly. “It’s a high-risk lifestyle, where they feel victimized by their own impulses and live in constant fear of being caught. It keeps them logging on.”
“And how many users in this chat room?” D.D. asked.
“Can’t get on to find out. Transcript from Laurent’s computer shows a few dozen active posters.”
“We need to track them down.”
“Obviously working on that,” O said dryly. “Unfortunately, pedophiles are a suspicious bunch, and very sophisticated with their computer skills.”
“But our victims have a common link-this chat room. Identify the users, identify the killer…or the next victims.”
“But again,” Phil reminded D.D., “we only have copies of a chat, not access to the chat room itself. While the transcripts show a couple dozen posters, that’s probably only the tip of the iceberg. Most members ‘lurk’ in these kinds of forums. Meaning there’s probably hundreds if not thousands of other users who don’t actively post, meaning they remain invisible to us. We’ll work on tracing the user names we can identify from the transcripts, but bear in mind, it’s probably a needle-in-the-haystack kind of exercise.”
“You said we can’t access the real chat room,” D.D. spoke up. “That it’s encrypted eighty ways to Sunday, invitation only. So how can we get an invite?”
“Don’t know,” O said. “Probably friend of a friend kind of thing. Meet in other forums, perhaps swapping porn, and once enough trust is gained, eventually a member of the chat room will extend an invitation.”
“But they must get new members, these teenagers, like you said.”
“Sure, and one possibility is that we could go ‘undercover’ as a teenage boy. Build a virtual identity that surfs the right places on the net, engages in the kind of Internet searches that might catch a fellow pedophile’s eyes. There are ‘undercover’ operators on the Internet, you know. But that kind of thing can take months to fully execute. Given our shooter’s time line, we have more like weeks.”
“We need a hacker,” D.D. said bluntly.
“Agreed.”
“Or…” D.D. thought a moment. “Do they know two of their users are dead? What if we claimed their user names and passwords? Could we log on as Stephen Laurent and/or Douglas Antiholde?”
“We’d have to identify their user names and passwords,” Phil said.
“Which our fine computer forensic experts should be able to do, right? Mine it out of the hard drive of the victims’ computers?”
Slowly, Phil nodded. O, as well.
“Yeah,” Phil considered. “Might take them a couple of days, but the computer pros should be able to do that.”
“All right, so forget building an undercover identity. We’ll simply steal Stephen Laurent’s user name, log on, and recon. We’ll listen, we’ll learn, and with any luck, we’ll find our man…or woman as the case might be.”