Lisa Stone: Stalker

The fresh air outside was a welcome relief. Matt opened the car and automatically climbed into the driver’s seat.

‘My chauffeur,’ Beth teased.

‘You can drive if you want to?’

‘No, it’s fine. I need to return the call from forensics. John texted while we were in there.’

Beth keyed John’s number into the car phone as Matt dove in the direction of the police station. ‘We’ll pick up something to eat on the way,’ he said.

Beth nodded. ‘Hi John, Beth here returning your call.’

‘What kept you?’ he said disgruntled. ‘I thought you said you wanted the stuff on Flint’s new laptop urgently. I worked on it over the weekend.’

‘Sorry, John. We got held up. Thanks for putting in the extra hours. What have you got for us?’

‘I’ll email you the full report but I thought you’d want to know my findings so far.’

‘Yes please.’ John was very good at this job and he often held the key to solving a case, or at least providing sufficient evidence to take the case to court. He liked the detectives to acknowledge that. ‘Thank you,’ Beth said again.

John cleared his throat. ‘You were right when you said Flint had recreated the live streams on his new laptop, but it was through a mixture of hacking and password guessing. As you surmised, the ones he couldn’t get into had high-strength passwords not derived from their names, streets, or date of birth. They’d also changed the password on their routers.’

‘Well done us,’ Matt said.

‘It’s pretty basic stuff for a hacker,’ John added. Matt looked deflated. ‘People make it too easy for hackers,’ John continued. ‘However, what you weren’t to know, and I’m sure Flint didn’t know either, was that despite installing good virus software his laptop had been hacked, as had his other computer.’

‘Really?’ Beth said. ‘When?’

‘At least ten months ago on his old computer, and as soon as he went online with this laptop. Flint didn’t practice what he preached, and not realizing he’d been hacked once, he used the same login and password, so they already had the details they needed.’

‘I see,’ Beth said thoughtfully. ‘So it was by the same person or persons.’

‘Yes. I’m still checking what exactly they accessed but in theory it could have been all Flint’s files and folders. So they would know everything Flint did about his clients, and about him too.’

There was a moment’s silence as the full implications sunk in.

‘Struth!’ Beth said.

Matt let out a long, slow whistle. ‘That could put a different take on things.’

‘There’s more,’ John said, his excitement palpable. ‘Not only did they hack in, but they’d been goading Flint and leading him on for many months using the dark web. You’re familiar with that term?’

Beth was about to say they were, but John continued with his explanation anyway.

‘The dark web is a collection of websites that use an encryption tool to hide their IP addresses so you can’t find them on a search engine. It needs specific software and configurations to use. The fact that these people need to hide their identities and their activities says it all. It’s used by terrorist groups, whistle-blowers, black market sales, paedophiles and weirdos who think it’s fun to play sadistic interactive games. Flint was computer savvy but I’m sure he had no idea who was targeting him and how serious it was until they sent him that final email.’

‘What email is that?’ Beth asked.

‘The one that was sent to his laptop on Wednesday morning from a group calling themselves Watching You. They didn’t use a VPN so Flint was able to trace them. It was probably then that the penny dropped and Derek realized at least some of what was going on.’

‘And then he suddenly disappears,’ Beth said.

‘Who are they? What do you know about them?’ Matt asked.

‘Not a lot at present. They’re well hidden on the dark web. From the little I’ve seen so far they really are a nasty bunch. But it’s very time-consuming trying to keep track of these buggers and sift through all the data they generate, and there’s just me been working on it.’

‘Thank you, John, it is appreciated,’ Beth said. ‘Tell us when you have more. I don’t suppose you know where the group is based?’

‘Like most of these groups they’re global, the Internet is worldwide, after all – hence www: world wide web.’

‘Yes, but was there a UK branch?’ she asked.

‘It’s not that simple. These dark web groups subdivide into smaller groups, sometimes down to two or three members, so there can be many all over the place.’

‘And the group that’s been targeting Flint has how many members, do you know?’

‘There is evidence of four but one’s been sleeping by the look of it.’

‘Sleeping?’

‘A non-active member. He was involved until about six months ago, then disappeared and another guy took his place. There’s quite a hierarchy in these groups and they give themselves identities, like Devil’s Child, Hell’s Fury and so on.

‘So when will you be able to give us the location of the group that’s been linked to Derek Flint?’ Beth asked, glancing at Matt.

‘I can do that now. I made it a priority. As I thought, the group that’s been targeting Flint is the nearest group geographically to him. They are operating from a computer at 35 Bushmead Close. You’ll have to look up the postcode.’

‘No need,’ Beth said as Matt screeched the car to a halt and began a U-turn. ‘We know where it is.’

‘They’ve been active this morning until about half an hour ago. If you’d returned my call sooner, you might have caught them red-handed.’

‘Thank you, John. We’re on our way there now,’ Beth said.

‘I’ll email my full report when it’s complete, but you realize the connotations for your case against Flint?’

‘Yes,’ Beth said. She disconnected the call and turned to Matt. ‘It’s been blown wide apart.’

Fifteen minutes later, the unmarked police car sped onto the Cranberry estate and continued around the ring road. Matt turned right into Bushmead Close and then drew to an abrupt halt outside the block of flats at the far end. They jumped out, crossed to the entrance of the block and ran up the first flight of metal stairs. The place was deserted.

‘I wonder if John made a mistake with the number of the flat?’ Matt said as they continued round the landing and to the second flight of stairs. ‘The only flat that seems to be occupied in this block is that one on the ground floor. Thirty-five is at the top.’

‘Let’s try thirty-five first, then take a look at the others,’ Beth said, glancing up and down the stairwell for any sign of life. There was nothing and it was very disappointing.

Reaching the top, they crossed the landing to Flat 35.

‘That tape over the bell looks like it’s been there for ages,’ Beth said. She lifted the small metal doorknocker and rapped twice, the metallic twang echoing eerily into the emptiness. They waited.

‘There’s no one living here,’ Matt said, taking a step back.

Beth rapped the doorknocker again, then tried to peer through the letterbox but something on the inside was stopping it from opening. ‘I think you’re right, although it’s not like John to be wrong. Stay here and I’ll go down and see who’s living in that flat on the ground floor.’

‘Shout if you need any help,’ Matt called after her.

Beth retraced her steps down the two flights of stairs to Flat 1. Faded curtains and grubby nets hung at the windows, making the flat look as abandoned as most of the others, apart from what sounded like a radio coming from inside. She pressed the bell, a dog barked, and then a male voice shouted, ‘Hold ya horses, I’m coming!’ Beth took a step back.