Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (22 page)

Bridger's mind was working overtime on
the drive over. Glenn Gallagher
’
s presence in the police station still
bothered him. Had he been visiting Mrs. Watson before he arrived
the other day? Did Gallagher ask Matthews to investigate? Why was
Matthews being secretive about it all?

"Not very auspicious for an Internet
company", Becky was saying from the driver
’
s seat.

"Sorry Becky..., I was miles away", Bridger
said.

Looking up at the listed address for
Revenge.com, Bridger was surprised to see it was only a small
wooden bungalow on an even smaller plot of land. Jo and Grant had
already got out of the back seats and had started to walk down each
side of the house towards the rear. Bridger smiled to himself; it
was almost an automatic reaction for a group of police officers
visiting an address of interest to cover all points of exit. You
never knew who was going to be coming out of a rear window when the
police knocked at the door. Before Bridger and Becky got to the
front door, the door swung open and a chubby bearded face peered
out of the gloomy interior.

"Yeah, what do you
want?
”
the
face queried suspiciously.

"Police", said Bridger reaching for his
identification.

The face changed its expression from
suspicion to paranoia. "Oh, I thought we were meant to come and see
you guys later this afternoon. Don't you need a warrant or
something to come here?
”

"This can't wait," Bridger said, walking up
the front stairs followed closely by Becky.

The face retreated into the shadows inside
the hallway. As soon as they stepped inside the door, the
unmistakable odour of freshly smoked cannabis hit them full in the
face. The face had grown a body that matched its flabby appearance,
the person whom it belonged to was dressed in casual sweatpants and
top. The pants were sporting a large stain on the front, something
Bridger did not want to think about too much.

"Let me guess, you're Steve Jobs", Becky
said with obvious disgust in her voice.

"What, no, no I'm Jack..., Jack Woolwich",
he stuttered, the Steve Jobs inference going straight over his
head.

"So you must be Simon Freeman", Bridger said
to the equally scruffy male who appeared from a room to the
rear.

"He certainly is," Jo said, following him
into the hall. "I saw this falling out of the bathroom window", she
added, holding up a plastic bag containing a substantial amount of
cannabis plant. "It nearly hit me on the head".

"He was sitting in the kitchen having a cup
of tea as we came in the back door", Grant said. "He swears blind
he does not know anything about it".

"I'm sure he doesn't", Bridger said, "Lucky
for you two we are too busy to worry about your smoking habits just
now. I take it you know why we are really here then".

"Yeah, it's about the puppet girl...,
isn't it?
”
Simon said, "That's pretty unhinged, even for our site. The
stream has over three thousand viewers from all over the world. We
normally only average a couple of hundred if we are lucky. It is an
advertisers dream. This is going to put us on the map".

"I'm afraid your plans of expansion will
have to be put on hold, we want you to cut the stream", Bridger
said. "Can you show us where it all comes from", he added, unsure
of the terminology to use.

"What..., no, you can't make us do that,
what about freedom of speech, freedom of the Internet, our rights
as a company", Jack spluttered, small balls of spittle forming at
the corners of his mouth.

"What about being a party to a serious
crime", Jo said sternly, "And I'm not talking about the weed. That
poor girl is there against her will. We do not know what is going
to happen to her. We are not in the business of letting every Tom
Dick and Harry get their jollies sitting in some smelly darkened
room in front of a computer. I do not care a toss what deals you
have jacked up with advertisers willing to put their products on
your twisted site. Your revenue stream means nothing to me. We are
talking about a girl
’
s life here. Now show us where you run it all
from".

"It's through here", Jack said, looking
chastised.

Nice work Jo, Bridger thought, as he
followed them through to another room. He could see by the look on
Grant and Becky
’
s faces that they thought the same thing
about the quiet new girl.

The epicenter of the business was a small
musty room with a large array of computer equipment quietly humming
away. Bridger looked at the screens to his left and saw a view of
the front of the house.

Well that explains how they knew we were
here, he thought. A bit paranoid though, what else did they get up
to in here?

Leftover fast food wrappers littered what
little free space the desks had. He could see four screens with
various things playing out on them; one view was disturbingly
similar to what Marion was currently going through. It was clearly
a parody of the real thing though as it depicted a female crudely
tied to some string with a male standing behind her on a chair
using her like a puppet. They were both laughing and joking.

There were some callous people out there in
the world, he thought to himself.

"Do you not regulate what is and isn't shown
on your site", asked Grant.

"If it
’
s not illegal then we don't have a
problem with it" Jack Woolich said, "It's normally pretty harmless
stuff. We do have a list of do's and don'ts before you can upload
anything".

"That obviously works well for you", Becky
said sarcastically, indicating the screen with Marion's image
plastered all over it. Nothing had changed in the short time they
had been out of the office.

The large 42-inch screen above the monitors
was showing Marion, displayed unnaturally large in the small room
and in high definition. Below the picture was a series of numbers
that kept changing, going up and down at random.

"What are these
numbers?
”
queried Becky.

Simon answered, clearly no more the brains
behind the operation than Jack was. "Those numbers tell us how many
people are viewing this stream at any one time. It is a worldwide
thing. Those numbers could be coming from any country in the
world... Well not every country", he corrected, "As some countries,
like China for instance, have very regulated Internet use. It helps
to tell the advertisers how many people they are reaching. Some
sites generate millions of views worldwide. It is better than any
television campaign could ever hope to generate. It's the way of
the future".

"Can you tell us where the stream is
coming from?
”
asked Bridger.

"We don't have the software to record
incoming IP addresses for people who upload to our site, I guess it
can be done, but don't ask me how". Simon said, looking at Jack for
confirmation.

Typical, thought Bridger, they can run a
program but do not have the first clue as to what goes on under the
buttons they push. I guess that is why they still base themselves
in this shithole, so much for Bill Gates and Steve Jobs.

"I take it you know how to shut the thing
down", Bridger said aloud. "We need everyone but us blocked from
viewing it".

"I would need to know where to send the
stream but it can be done remotely from here", Simon said.

Bridger's phone rang in his pocket, "Grant
can you ring Sam back at the office and get him to sort that out
with these two Internet tycoons", he said as he backed out of the
cramped stuffy room and into the hallway. He answered the phone as
he stepped outside onto the front steps.

"Bridger here", he said, as he gulped a
lungful of fresh air.

"Mike, it's Stan, we have your boy inside
the university. One of my lads has it under control. When he leaves
we will be all over him".

He cut the call and turned around to find Jo
coming out of the house. "Sarge, my contact has just phoned to say
Jonas is in the university".

"Cheers Jo, but I think the surveillance
boys beat your contact to the punch... Nice work in there by the
way,” he added. “Sometimes you need to be forceful in this job to
get things done".

Jo went her trademark red colour and looked
at the ground. "Thanks Sarge", was all she managed to say when she
raised her head and looked him in the eye.

Becky and Grant came out the door, followed
by Jack and Simon who both looked very pale and unkempt in the
sunlight.

"These two have agreed to come down to the
police station until we can sort this out", Becky was saying as she
descended the stairs. "They have cut the connection for the live
stream, Sam talked them through diverting it to the computer he has
back at the office. We should be the only ones that can see it
now".

"Good", said Bridger. "Do you think
whoever is streaming the images can tell he is not being watched
anymore?
”
Bridger directed his question at both Simon and
Jack.

"I'm not really sure", Simon replied,
"Probably not".

Jack just shrugged his narrow shoulders.

"Well we will have to take that risk I
suppose", Bridger said. He was thinking that Jonas was not at the
warehouse to seeing any change in the streaming anyway, and when he
eventually led them to his warehouse, he would not have any time to
do anything about it.

The familiar thrill of the chase was
beginning to build in the pit of his stomach, the adrenalin slowly
building, which was helping him feel almost human again.

She was back in her cell again, the
walls felt like they were closing in on her. How long was she going
to be stuck here? The concrete breezeblocks offered no warmth even
though the ambient temperature was at a comfortable level. She had
completely lost it last night; she had not shut off like that since
she was younger. She didn’t
’
t know what it was that set her off, maybe it
was the sight of that huge policeman. Why did they have to be so
big? He looked almost mythical, the lights blinking off and on
giving her glimpses of the strength and power of the state.
Uniforms that had gotten more military like, tools of compliance
strapped on the waist, keeping the masses in a state of
submission.

It sounded just like the shit that Jonas
spouted on a regular basis. He kept that side of himself well
hidden during the day, but when he threw those parties, had her and
her friends around, he was a very different person.

That bastard had left her last night. It was
his shit as a well. Well she had sorted him out now. The woman
Detective had been nice, she had thought that yesterday when she
had seen her at Marion's place. She had told her about Jonas, that
it was his Cannabis. She had told her about the warehouse where he
kept it. That would teach him, the shit. She hoped the police would
go in and smash the place up, take all his Cannabis. How would he
prey on the girls now, if he did not have anything to give
them?

What had she seen in that pathetic,
self-obsessed, sanctimonious piece of shit? She had been such a
fool, his power came from other people's wants and needs. She
wanted what he could give her, the Cannabis, the part in the play.
He was not a dish at all, she almost felt embarrassed for
suggesting it to that woman Detective. Everybody thought she was
such a 'Goody Two Shoes', sweet little naive Beth, would never hurt
a fly. Well Jonas would find out soon that she had a vicious
streak. Fuck him.

She knew she had messed up big time though;
her place at the university was probably gone. Her parents would be
so disappointed in her, like always. They expected so much from
her. She had never lived up to their expectations. Her little
sister was the apple in their eye. That little bitch had a charmed
life; it was as if she could do no wrong. It was always Kate this
and Kate that, she never heard her parents talk proudly about her
as they did for Kate.

University was going to prove finally that
she was worthy. The leading role in the play was going to show them
as well. Until, that bitch called Marion had come along and ruined
it for her. Marion was missing now, the part was hers, but she had
fucked that up as well by snitching on Jonas. He was not likely to
give her the part now, if there was even a play to be in after the
police had finished with him.

The cell door opened and a figure stood in
the doorway.

"Time to go Beth, just a few formalities
then we can bail you for Court next week".

This one looked different to the rest. He
seemed almost human. He had a smile on his face, friendly,
trustworthy. She would go with him. He offered hope, freedom. He
did not judge when he read the charge on the door. He chatted,
cracked a few jokes as he took her fingerprints and asked her to
smile for the camera. He smiled as he handed her the paperwork
explaining that she needed to attend court next week. He even waved
as he showed her out the front door and into the fresh air. He was
nice.

Breathing in a lungful of cold air, she felt
herself becoming calmer. She thought of someone else who was nice.
Time to go home and give him a call, see what is happening, she
thought, smiling a small secret smile.

Bridger had made the decision to send Grant
and Jo back to the office with the two computer geeks. He had asked
that he and Becky ride along with the surveillance team to provide
evidential support. Whatever Jonas did between leaving the
university and getting to the warehouse could be of value to
proving the eventual case against him He and Becky would be there
to see it all.