his lifeline, there might be another victim very soon.”
“We’ll make a few phone calls,” Tatum said. “If he sold those pictures, there would be traces in those dark web sites. We’ll get analysts to help us look.”
CHAPTER 73
Laughing_Irukandji sat on his throne in his underwear, staring at the monitors, waiting. Lurking.
He halfheartedly skimmed the forum, checking a thread about a hacked dating app database and another one about a new exploit found in a popular webcam application. He didn’t comment on anything, his face frozen in a sneer.
On Twitter, the hashtag #FindRhea was trending. He read some of the mind-numbingly boring tweets, a sea of hypocrisy, a multitude of people trying to outshine their peers with their so-called heartfelt prayers.
He set ten of his bots to spew rumors that Rhea was an illegal immigrant, tagging each tweet with #FindRhea and #DeportRhea, and yawned as the predictable outrage bloomed.
A few messages popped up, fellow trolls, guessing correctly that the rumors were his doing. Most were amused. One of them thought that he’d gone too far. Laughing_Irukandji smirked.
If he only knew.
Another message appeared, and he tensed, his heart rate picking up. Jack_the_Ripper. Finally. His finger trembled as he clicked the message.
Jack_the_Ripper: I had a few setbacks, I won’t be able to send you the last batch of pictures. But you have the three images I already sent you, and you can check the press to see it’s authentic. Those are the pictures of Rhea Deleon, minutes after she died. No one else has them
A wave of disappointment washed through him. That wasn’t the deal. He’d given the man instructions, hadn’t he? He typed his answer.
Laughing_Irukandji: That wasn’t the deal. No pictures, no payment
The response came immediately.
Jack_the_Ripper: I need that money. I already sent you three pictures. If you won’t pay me, we’re done
Laughing_Irukandji: Fine. Then we’re done
The man had already clarified that he needed the money, and fast. He wouldn’t find someone else who would pay that amount. No way in hell.
Jack_the_Ripper: Okay, what if I send you something else? Something better? But if you want it you’ll have to pay what you owe me, and extra for the new photos
Laughing_Irukandji: It’ll have to be something pretty special
Power rushed through him again. Trolling people on social media didn’t give him a fraction of what he felt right now.
Jack_the_Ripper: I can do a pregnant woman
Laughing_Irukandji smiled and let a whole minute go by before answering.
Laughing_Irukandji: That would work nicely. But I have specific instructions
CHAPTER 74
Monday, October 24, 2016
Tatum scrutinized the task force room, which was now at full capacity. Despite the bloodshot eyes and disheveled looks, everyone seemed sharper that morning. The thrill of the hunt kept them alert and on their toes.
Well, that and coffee. It seemed like they were having a cup-size contest. O’Donnell had shown up nursing a mug as big as her head, while Valentine held a large thermos from which he constantly refilled his Styrofoam cup. Even Zoe had abandoned her newly found hot chocolate in favor of a strong cup of Starbucks coffee.
“Good morning,” Bright said. “As you all know, we arrested Terrence Finch yesterday and found the body of Rhea Deleon in his home. Detective O’Donnell and Dr. Bentley managed to interrogate him yesterday evening when he woke up, but he didn’t give us a solid lead for Rod Glover’s whereabouts. Detectives Koch and Sykes, you went there this morning?”
“Yeah,” Koch said. “But he lawyered up.”
“He’s being medicated, so it’s likely that his psychosis is diminishing, making him more careful,” Zoe said.
“In any case, we’ll go there later, see if he’s more coherent. If he can lead us to Glover, we might be able to cut a deal with him.”
“We also had some progress on Glover,” Sykes said. “We talked to Finch’s neighbors yesterday, and one of them had seen Glover just two days ago at Finch’s house. She identified him when we showed her pictures but said that he looks different now. We sat her down with a sketch artist, and we have an updated likeness.”
“Are we under the assumption that Rod Glover is still in Chicago?” Bright asked.
“Oh, yes,” Tatum said.
The eyes in the room shifted to him. He paused for two seconds and then said, “Yesterday, following leads from Finch’s interrogation, we theorized that Rod Glover might have been selling photos from his recent murders to fund his cancer treatment.”
“Selling to whom?” Bright asked.
“To customers on a dark web marketplace dedicated to illegal porn,” Tatum said. “We had a few analysts take a