Marcia Talley - Through the Darkness

“Wait! I recognize that photograph. It’s from the St. Catherine’s membership directory!”

Erika grimaced. “He e-mailed that photo to thirteen-year-old Cyndi,” she said. “But wait, that’s not all.”

Erika clicked on another link. “This is what Roger sent to Cyndi via his webcam.”

I held my breath while Erika scrolled through a slide show starring Roger Haberman, tilted, slightly out of focus images all obviously captured by his webcam. Roger lounging on a sofa, grinning sappily. Roger bare-chested. Roger with his fly undone.

“Eeeek!”

Erika’s forefinger hovered over the mouse. “Shall I go on?”

“God, no. I’ve seen more of Roger Haberman in the last few seconds than I ever want to see.”

Emily raked her fingers through her long blond hair, working out the nighttime tangles. “What I want to know, Mother, is what makes guys think that looking at a photo of his, um, equipment, is going to turn a woman on?”

“It sure doesn’t work for me,” I told my daughter.

“Not to mention that it’s totally against the law,” Erika reminded us. “In almost every state it’s generally a crime to send children obscene material, even if it turns out the recipient is an adult posing as a child.”

“Sounds like Roger’s toast,” I said.

“Totally. For that alone. Now, let’s take a look at some of Roger’s chat with little thirteen-year-old Cyndi.”

MDGUY4U: when is ur mom not there?

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: when shes at work r with her bf r out at the jim

MDGUY4U: so ur home alone?

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: yeppers

MDGUY4U: Mind if I call?

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: monday is my day off frm skool

MDGUY4U: Lucky u

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: for teachers meeting r sumthin

MDGUY4U: Kewl

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: lemme go see if moms got her stoopid skedule on da fridge

MDGUY4U: ok

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: shes off dis weekend

MDGUY4U: Kewl

MDGUY4U: wat u wanna do?

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: LOL I DONT CARE

MDGUY4U: DO U WANT ME TO SUCK ON UR TITTIES?

Feeling ill, I scanned down the chat, all the way near the end where MDGUY4U had arranged to meet CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA and her titties at her home in Rockville, Maryland, which turned out to be the sting house where he would later get busted.

“Enough!” I cried.

But Erika chugged on. “And down here we have…” She worked the mouse, scrolling quickly to the end of the chat. “See here?”

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: whats ur number?

MDGUY4U: I cn get in trouble just talking to you. lol

CYNDI_WITH_NO_FELLA: lol. No 1 will ever no, silly.

MDGUY4U: ok

“The bastard knows she’s underage.” Erika snorted. “But watch how fast he sends Cyndi his phone number anyway.”

While I stared in disbelief-this was my pastor’s husband talking dirty here-Erika highlighted the phone number. “That’s Roger’s actual cell phone number. And that’s my job.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m the verifier. I call the guy up, pretend to be Cyndi, and verify that he’s for real.” Her voice slid up an octave; she sounded no more than twelve or thirteen. “Oh, snap! Dad just walked in. He’s so bunk.”

Emily smiled. “Erika’s got the lingo down pat.”

“How do you sleep at night, Erika,” I asked, “knowing all these perverts are out there lurking on the Internet?”

“I sleep because for every perve we catch, there are ten, maybe twenty, little girls and boys who won’t be abused.

“Listen to this.” Erika clicked around, then read an excerpt from another long, dirty chat.

“‘If you are interested, I could show you a few tricks.’ And the child replies, ‘What kind of tricks?’ Then he IMs back, ‘Let’s put it this way. I am a little older and more experienced than you. I have been married and have tried many different things and can probably show you things that your boyfriend never even thought about.’

“It goes on and on,” Erika said.

“Sick.”

“What happens now, Erika?”

“My best guess is that the police will eventually come calling on old Roger and he’ll be heading for the slammer.”

But it wasn’t Roger I was feeling sorry for, it was his wife, Eva.

My heart ached for my friend. I prayed she hadn’t seen the broadcast-that would have been too cruel. “Poor Eva.”

“What do you mean, ‘Poor Eva’? She had to have known about this.”

“Not necessarily.”

“But she certainly knows now. And I, Erika Rose,” she said with a flourish, “took the liberty of notifying the congregation via the St. Catherine’s e-mail list.”

“My God, Erika!” Even for a lawyer, the woman had chutzpah. “Isn’t that list supposed to be used for church business only? No one wants to be swamped with used car notices and the latest religious jokes making the rounds on the Internet.”

“Chill, Mom. I told her to do it.”

“You?”

“I can’t think of anything more relevant to the business of the church than to inform its congregation that their pastor is harboring a pedophile.”

Erika demonstrated how easily we could e-mail anyone a link to Roger Haberman’s special Predator-Beware Web page featuring his picture, his cell phone number, and the full text of his revolting chat room sessions with Cyndi, page after page of it. “We sent it to his boss on Monday, asking if this was the kind of guy they wanted working around the kids enrolled in the sailing program.”

Cassandra Matthews would have found out about the Cross Current program soon enough anyway, but even so, I thought that Erika’s actions were a bit over the top. Roger was guilty as hell, of course, and he’d brought it all upon himself, but with everyone ganging up on him, I worried about the guy. “He’ll have some excuse to explain away his behavior,” I suggested.

“They all do,” Erika said. “You heard it on the show last night, didn’t you? Same old thing. I’ve never done this before. I knew she wasn’t twelve, I was just playing along. I’m here because I thought the house was for sale. How lame is that?”

“I’m a bit uncomfortable with it, to tell you the truth. At the end of the day, your group is just a bunch of vigilantes. It’s the twenty-first-century version of tar, feathers, and running a guy out of town on a rail. Almost makes me feel sorry for some of them.”

“Look, we’re not totally devoid of compassion. We offer pedophiles the opportunity to post rebuttals, for example, and we’ll actually remove them from the website if they can prove they’re getting help. But, trust me, Hannah. These guys are dyed in the wool perverts. Do you want to see how ridiculously easy it is?”

“Convince me.”

Erika relinquished her chair and motioned me over to the keyboard. “Have you ever signed up for an account on Yahoo?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, then. Log on to Yahoo dot com and set up a new user ID.”

While Erika and Emily watched, I tried half a dozen combinations before I came up with a screen name that hadn’t already been used: Krazy_4_Katz.

“Now, go ahead and set up a profile.”

With Erika coaching me, I filled in the blanks for Candy Williams. When I came to the section for date of birth, I closed my eyes and started counting backward, trying to come up with a date that would make Candy turn thirteen on her next birthday.

When I started to fill in the age blanks, Erika raised a cautionary hand. “Don’t do that. If Yahoo thinks you’re under eighteen, they won’t let you into the chat room. Either lie or leave it blank.”

“But how will the guy know that I’m only thirteen?”

“When the time comes, you’ll tell him.” She flapped a hand. “Now, go on. Try out your ID in a chat room.”