“That’s what I’m asking,” Marino said. “What are you talking about?”
“Apparently, the woman told the nine-one-one operator to pass on the message to Jaime that it was the same man who, quote, got off the hook earlier this month. And she, the lady who called, said she took a picture with her cell phone and can prove he’s at it again.”
“Jake Loudin,” Berger said. “Who’s this claiming she took a picture of him?”
“All I know is the nine-one-one operator passed on the message to Morales. I guess because of his connection with Jaime.”
Lucy popped open a Diet Pepsi, listening and reading as Jet Ranger snored.
“What damn connection?” Marino sounded angry. “Tavern on the goddamn Green? I’m telling you, I don’t like that guy. He’s an asshole.”
“He says you might want to go talk to your witness again, long and short of it,” Benton said. “And maybe Jaime will want to, since it seems related to her big animal-cruelty case. But maybe first all of us should meet him at Oscar’s apartment while we’ve got the chance.”
“The lady lives across the street,” Marino said. “She was drinking when I saw her this afternoon. She started talking about getting another dog. I don’t know why she wouldn’t have said something about Loudin earlier. We were talking about dogs and Jaime’s anti-cruelty task force. We could go see her first, since we’re right here, then go to Oscar’s. He’s on the other side of the park, not far from where your apartment is. Not far from John Jay.”
“I think we should split up.” Berger’s voice. “You two go to Oscar’s. Marino and I will stay here.”
“I’d like to get back to John Jay,” Scarpetta said. “How does it work if the IP traces to John Jay? Wouldn’t the person who sent the e-mails have to be located there?”
Silence.
Scarpetta repeated her question and said, “Lucy? You still with us?”
“I’m sorry,” Lucy said. “I forgot I was here.”
“I didn’t know she was on the phone,” Benton said. “Maybe you could set your cell phone on the desk. I’m sorry, Lucy. Hello, Lucy.”
The cell phone clunked as Scarpetta set it down.
Lucy said, “Whoever Scarpetta six-twelve is would have had to be physically within range of John Jay’s wireless network to join it. For example, the person would have to be there using one of the college’s computers—which isn’t likely at almost midnight, when the buildings were locked, and that’s when the last e-mail was sent, right before midnight on December twenty-eighth. Or the person could have brought his or her own laptop or something smaller such as a BlackBerry, an iPhone, a PDA, some device that’s capable of logging on to the Internet. And that’s what I’m thinking—that this individual had something like a PDA and just stood on the sidewalk in front of one of the buildings and hijacked the wireless network. I’m assuming the cops found Terri’s cell phone? Or a BlackBerry or PDA if she had one? The photograph Scarpetta six-twelve sent? It could have been sent by a BlackBerry, a PDA, something like that, as I’ve mentioned.”
“Her cell phone’s being gone through.” It was Marino. “No other phones, BlackBerries, or devices you could use for the Internet. Assuming the inventory we got here is correct. Just the one phone. Plain vanilla flip phone. Was on the kitchen counter, plugged in, recharging. That and the earpiece. Also recharging.”
All of them continued to discuss and speculate, and then there was a brief lapse as Marino and Berger contacted the e-mail provider for Scarpetta six-twelve.
They got the information Lucy needed.
“The password’s stiffone, all one word.” Berger spelled it for Lucy over the phone. “Marino, maybe you could get with John Jay’s security to find out if they noticed anyone in front of the classroom building late on the night of December twenty-eighth, and again yesterday, mid-afternoon?”
“In both instances, the twenty-eighth and last night,” Benton said, “the building would have been closed due to the hour and the holiday.”
“Are there security cameras?” Berger asked.
Lucy said, “You know what I’m thinking. I’m thinking the IP’s deliberate to make it look like the e-mails are really from Aunt Kay. She’s connected with John Jay, so why wouldn’t she be sending e-mails from their wireless network? Point is, whoever’s stolen Aunt Kay’s identity by sending these e-mails doesn’t care if the IP was traced, and likely hoped or even assumed it would be. Otherwise, this person would have used an anonymous proxy—a program on a remote server that grabs files for you and disguises your real address. Or some other type of anonymizer that gives you a temporary address every time you send an e-mail, so people can’t find your real IP.”
“That’s my big battle.” Berger made her favorite complaint about the Internet.
It was one Lucy liked to hear. The devil Berger fought was one Lucy knew.
“White-collar crime, stalking, identity theft,” Berger added. “I can’t tell you my aggravation.”
“What about the account information for Scarpetta six-twelve?” Marino was asking Lucy, as if nothing dysfunctional had ever gone on between them.
He was just more guarded, which made him somewhat polite, for once.
“Anything more than the generic they gave me?” he asked.
“Name’s listed as Dr. Kay Scarpetta. Address and phone number are her office in Watertown. All public information,” Lucy said. “No profile, no options that would have required the person who set up the account to use a credit card.”
“Same thing as Terri’s accounts.” Berger’s voice.
“Same thing with a million accounts,” Lucy said. “I’m in Scarpetta six-twelve right now, and the only e-mails sent or received were to and from Terri Bridges.”
“Don’t you think that might hint it was Terri who opened that account to make it look as if Kay were writing to her?” Berger suggested.
“What about the MAC, the machine access code?” Benton asked.
Lucy said, as she scrolled through e-mails, “Doesn’t match either of these laptops, but all that means is Terri or someone didn’t carry one of these laptops to John Jay and send the e-mails from that network. But you’re right. The sole purpose of Scarpetta six-twelve seems to be for an imposter to correspond with Terri Bridges, which would have added credence to the theory that the imposter and Terri were the same person, were it not for one thing.”
The one thing she was talking about was on her screen.
“I’m talking as I’m going through the Scarpetta six-twelve account,” she said. “And this is something that’s really important. Really, really important.”
So important, Lucy almost couldn’t believe it.
She said, “At eight-eighteen last night, Scarpetta six-twelve wrote an e-mail that was saved as a draft and never sent. I’m forwarding it to all of you, and I’m going to read it out loud to you in a sec. This rules out Terri or Oscar writing it. Do you hear what I’m saying? This e-mail I’m talking about rules out either one of them being Scarpetta six-twelve.”
“Shit.” Marino’s voice. “Someone wrote an e-mail while this place was crawling with cops? Fact is, her body was probably already at the morgue by then.”
“Her body arrived at the morgue at around eight, as I recall,” Scarpetta said.
“So someone writes an e-mail to Terri and decides not to send it for some reason.” Lucy tried to work it out. “As in maybe the person somehow found out Terri was dead right while in the middle of writing to her? And then just saved the e-mail as a draft?”