Superliminal chapter 2: Constructed destruction

Detective Specialist Lee felt pretty good about his first real case, until he stepped into the room and saw the carnage.

He had seen pictures, of course. But all the training in the world couldn’t prepare you. Not when the horror was right… in front… of his eyes.

Lee covered his mouth and turned away. He squeezed his eyes closed and concentrated on his breathing.

Hold it together. Don’t blow it. Not in front of the boss.

And there she was. Lieutenant Martin stood behind him, waiting patiently.

“It’s tough, Detective Lee. Isn’t it.”

It wasn’t a question.

Lee straightened, took a deep breath and almost choked. But he managed to open his eyes and turn around. Lieutenant Martin was tall, but too slender: Lee could still see the scene of brutality just behind her.

“Is that…” Detective Lee pushed out the words, feeling the bile rise, “…was that a system board?”

Martin glanced casually behind her. She took in the scene calmly.

“Sure is. The perp ripped it right out of the case. Looks like all the memory chips were removed too. Bastard snapped them in half. We still haven’t found the CPU.”

“But why? What could possibly possess someone to kill… a computer?”

“Money. Love. Unexplained crashes. The usual. You should know this, Detective. I shouldn’t have to tell you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…”

Martin broke her demeanor and donated a smile, though her eyes remained hard.

“It’s okay. We’ve all been there. Just pull it together and get me an analysis ASAP. I want a full bio scan, comm traces and complete scene reconstruction.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Martin turned and walked toward the door. Then she stopped and half-turned, one hand on the door frame. She spoke over her shoulder.

“One more thing, Detective Lee. I was hoping this wouldn’t happen so soon. But now that it’s started, we need help from the best. Call Dev Manny. I want him here now.”

—

That’s how I came to this case: Detective Specialist Lee picked me up and drove me there. Being an information technology private investigator, it suppose it was only a matter of time before I was working with the police.

That’s all fine, I suppose, but I wish they could’ve waited till after dinner.

I felt really out of place at the scene. I wasn’t wearing any uniform you could call ‘official’. I suppose I could’ve bought a used trenchcoat, so I could act as the rumpled-but-lovable detective. Maybe a shoulder holster (for my cellphone), to intimidate all who came near. Or a pair of handcuffs (dangling from my $9.95 belt), in case I was in a situation where… well, sometimes you just want a spare pair of handcuffs.

But I had nothing to show off. Just the brains my DNA gave me. That could mean big trouble for some. For me, it was all I needed.

I stood in the room with Detective Lee. He and I had ducked under the fluttering yellow police tape cordoning off the entire house – a small, one-story ranch in an upper-class neighborhood. I could almost feel the shocked stares of neighbors – all rich executives – wondering what tragedy befell the owner here. That is, they wondered enough to be worried but weren’t worried enough to help. Typical.

The room was an office. Or it used to be. Now it was a high-tech gravesite.

I studied the destruction. Someone here really didn’t like technology. Why? I had no idea. Who? Lee filled me in.

“The perp is the homeowner. His prints are all over this mess, and we can’t find him. James Dunning. He’s a computer specialist. Some kind of programmer and application developer. Apparently he’s also a math wiz. Been published in a few trade journals, working on…”

Detective Lee took a moment to squint at his handheld and silently mouth out a couple words. ”He’s working on the ‘irrationality of the Euler-Mascheroni constant’. Wow.”

Lee was impressed. I wasn’t, though I suddenly had a craving for Italian. But I kept my mouth shut. A good thing, because Lee’s next words put a floating point on my integer variable. In layman’s language, I was creeped out.

“His employer… here it is. James Dunning works for ‘RedAction’.”

“RedAction? Really?”

“Yeah. Do you know them?”

“They were a client of mine a while back.”

“Great!” Lee smiled. “So we’ve already got an ‘in’!”

“I’d rather get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

I turned around. I examined the technological carnage and changed the subject. “So what do we have here?”

“It’s the weirdest thing. You see the big computer in the middle, right? Or what’s left of it. From what we can tell, that was one of the first things he destroyed.”

The results were ugly. He had stripped off the computer’s casing and eviscerated the contents. Drives. Memory. Even the cache modules on the motherboard had…

“Interesting.”

“Yes, Mr. Manny?”

“This looks like a directed attack against all data storage components on the system. Anything that can hold data was destroyed. Everything else was left alone.”

Lee got excited, which was so cute to see in those rookie cops. His hands were actually shaking as he pointed around the room.

“That’s a great analysis, because it matches what we found! Look at the rest of this guy’s stuff. Cameras, DVDs, video recorders. Anything that holds data has been pulverized. Or most of it, anyway. Look at this digital camera. The camera is bashed in, but the memory stick was removed and burned. Right here.” He pointed to a charred mess on the floor.

Working from Lee’s notes, I gathered more data. There was a pattern to the destroyed devices. I could almost taste it. Or maybe that was just my craving for Italian.

Multiple cameras, all memory cards burned. The cameras themselves had been slammed into pieces. One CD player and one DVD player, with all disks smashed. The players pulverized, with what sounded like dozens of pieces loose inside. One digital video camera, destroyed. Nearby digital tapes were also ripped apart. One VHS video camera. Empty, and broken, since it rattled when Lee shook it. One digital voice recorder, stabbed to bits with what looked like a USB flash drive, which then contributed to the mini-bonfire on the floor. The recorder memory was also burned.

Finally, there were the computers. James Dunning had owned several. The biggest, most powerful workstation was the gory mess in the middle of the floor. Other workstations and laptops lay scattered about the room in similar scenes of destruction. He’d been thorough – even the laptop built-in webcams had been punched out and destroyed.

“What is it, Mr. Manny?”

I was so focused on the problem, I didn’t even tell him to call me “Dev”. I continued to stare. There was a pattern here. And in a high-resolution mental flash I saw it.

There was a message.

“Mr. Lee.”

“That’s ‘Detective Lee’, Mr. Manny.”

“In that case, Detective Lee, it’s ‘Information Technology Private Investigator Manny’.”

I could sense Lee counting to ten. Luckily for the conversation, he was a fast counter.

“All right. Fine. Call me whatever you want. What is it?”

I flourished my hand over the destroyed technology. “Which one of these things doesn’t belong?”

He stared and blinked for a while.

“I… well, I… what?”

“Me too. At first, anyway. But look around. Your perp systematically destroyed all digital media, digital recorders and digital players. The DVD player. The computers and the webcams. The voice recorder. These are all devices capable of digital recording or playback.”

“Right. Sure, I guess. Well, except for… oh!”

I knew that if Lee was a good detective who knew his technology, his gaze would’ve locked on one particular device. It did.

“That’s right, Lee. The VHS video camera. It’s not digital, for one thing. It’s analog. That’s a completely different kind of technology. Analog can’t hold as much data. It has a short lifespan and quality degrades over time. We were meant to single out that one device. We were meant to find the disguised wolf in a flock of electric sheep.”

“So that’s it!”

“No. There’s more.”

By the way he looked as if I’d just slapped his face with a piece of salami, I was disappointed to see I could get him to Step One, but not Two.

“Detective Lee, all these other destroyed components have their media. The cameras had memory sticks. The DVD player had DVD disks. So where are the tapes for this VHS camera?”

I watched his expression morph. It was as if, after the salami slap, I now insisted he take a bite.

“Well, yes, of course. But… what about the camera? It’s still destroyed!”

“Detective,” I said politely, “Did you make sure? Did anyone ever open the VHS camera to see what the rattling noise was?”

I hadn’t even finshed speaking when he lept towards the camera. He scrabbled at it and pried open the cartridge bay. I wanted to say something about “contaminating a crime scene”, but what did I know? It would’ve slowed us down. Besides, I would’ve done it if he hadn’t.

Detective Lee shouted and dropped the VHS camera. It slammed to the ground with a crack but no rattle. He held up what he’d found.

It was a small key.

I studied it. “Looks like a key to a post office box. Find the box and open it. Want to guess what you’ll find inside?”

“Information Technology Private Investigator Manny, I’m thinking we’ll find a VHS tape.”

“I think you might be right. And call me Dev.”

Lee grinned at me and I grinned back. Without another word, Lee shook my hand and sprinted from the room.

There was a flurry of activity as I was escorted away from the scene by another officer. I was walking out the front door as Detective Lee’s car screeched away towards the post office.

—

Back at my office, it only took two hours before I heard a knock on my door. Lee was there, but he stood deferentially behind a tall woman in dark uniform. She came in, shook my hand and immediately moved the conversation into high gear.

“Mr. Manny, I’m Lieutenant Martin. Detective Lee is in charge of this case, though I’ve been watching things closely. One reason I hired you was indeed to help. A second reason is to test you. I wanted to make sure you’ve got the skill we need. You do. And we still need your help. There’s something new. Something far more important than a few broken DVDs. Detective Lee did find a VHS tape in the post office box. We played it.”

She paused, then bored her eyes into mine.

“Mr. Manny, how would you like to help save the world?”

Her eyes changed. Now they burned with an intensity and demand that made it very difficult to refuse.

“Saving the world, huh? Is dinner involved?”

She was clearly surprised at my lack of enthusiasm for getting myself in what sounded like major trouble, but she held her composure.

“Food can be arranged, Mr. Manny.”

“Good. Then let’s talk. How about Italian?”

Unfortunately, I later ended up cancelling my second order of garlic bread. Watching the hidden VHS tape would kill most of my appetite.