The Virginia Tech campus was large. But so was MIT and Terry knew just where to start searching for his blackmailer or blackmailers. It was late August and it was warm in Virginia, but there was a nice breeze and it was pretty comfortable as Terry made the long walk from the parking lot to the Computer Sciences building. Though the spring semester was over, there were still quite a few kids hanging around. Terry was amazed at how much older than most of them he felt. He entered one of the labs, where several of the terminals were occupied. In a small office off to the side, sat a man about ten years older than Terry.
The tech world being still relatively small, he recognized the man from a lecture he had done on AI modelling at MIT. His name was Jakob Stern, and he was a Professor of Cybertech.
Terry knocked on the glass door and Professor Stern quickly swivelled in his seat. He stared at Terry for a moment.
“Professor Stern.”
“Yes?” he said.
“My name is Terry Moorehouse.” We met a few years ago at MIT when you gave a lecture on AI Modelling.”
Stern chuckled. “So many lectures. So many faces. Who can keep track? Then he got to his feet. “Come in, Mr. Moorehouse. Have a seat,” he said motioning to the spare chair. “What can I do for you?”
“I have a company, Moorehouse Digital. We are specialized in investigating cybercrimes. One of our investigations has led us here to the Virginia Tech campus.”
“Big place. Lots of nerds to choose from.”
“Yeah, I know. But these nerds are trying to extort ten million dollars from one of my clients.”
Stern let out an almost involuntary “Ouch!”
“No kidding,” Terry said. “So here I am hoping to get lucky, pay these people off and get back the AI they are using to blackmail my client with.”
“So what basically are they doing?”
“They have built a model of my client’s daughter based on a female masturbation scene from some porn flick.”
“Oh my.”
“Indeed. My client is willing to pay the ransom, but he sent me to see if I could short-circuit the whole thing.”
“And just how do you ensure that?”
“Well, putting the fear of god into them will help. It may be just as simple as the fact that I was able to actually find them.
“Good point. How did you end up tracking them to Virginia Tech?”
“My partner, Shawna Lennox.”
Stern closed his eyes. Then he opened them and smiled. “Now her I remember. A very bright light. And gorgeous. Wouldn’t surprise me at all if she hadn’t invented some sort of tracking device. She was very big on that as I recall.”
“That’s right. She’s my business partner and my other partner too.”
“You are a lucky dog, Mr. Moorehouse.”
“Yes, sir. I am. So what do you think? Any suspects spring to mind?”
Stern rubbed his palms together. Then he turned to look out into the lab. There at one of the corner desks sat Carlos Montoya and Gerald Freelander.
“See those two?” Stern said pointing to Montoya and Freelander. Carlos Montoya and Gerald Freelander. A couple of rich boys from New England. Inseparable. Live together off campus. Never go anywhere without each other. I thought they might have been a gay couple but they’re just a couple of nerds, probably stuck together all through high school. I could see them catching a lot of grief there.”
“Are they smart enough to pull something like this off?”
“Oh yeah. But they’re also…not exactly what I would call criminal minds. They might be motivated by something other than greed. Maybe revenge. Retribution. How old was your client’s daughter?”
“She would be about twenty-three. Just got her masters from Columbia. Looking to teach. A scandal like this would pretty much derail that.”
Stern swivelled in his seat and opened his computer. In a few clicks, he had their profiles on the screen.
“They both attended Stamford Academy. They probably would have been a year or two behind your client’s daughter if that was her school.”
Terry pulled a card out of his pocket. “I’ll ask my client a few questions. In the meantime, if you have any other thoughts let me know.”
Terry, who was working hard to contain his excitement, got up, thanked Professor Stern and quickly left the lab, keeping his eye on both Montoya and Freelander, imprinting their faces.
Terry waited on a bench outside the building. He called Arthur Tyson and asked about his daughter’s education and found out that she had, indeed, attended the Stamford Academy. Terry was careful not to raise any hopes. But just said that he had a strong possible lead. Terry then called Shawna and reported in.
An hour and a half later, Montoya and Freelander came out of the building and headed toward the parking lot. They got into a Mazda Miata and headed off toward the downtown core. Terry followed them as casually as he could. But they were so busy talking with each other that they didn’t notice.
They stopped at a taco place called OleTaco and Montoya jumped out of the car. A few minutes later he was back at the car with a bag full of food and they were off again. He tracked them to a street lined with four-plexes. They parked a little way down the street and then entered one of the first-floor flats. Terry made a note of the number of the house and then headed back to the taco place and picked up some dinner of his own.
He went back to the four-plex and parked across the street. He kept his eye on the front window and could see both of them clearly. They were eating and sitting staring at a computer screen.
After a while, Terry got bored and got out of his car. He walked down the street to an alleyway and ended up at what he was sure was the back end of their flat.
There was a small deck with a screen door. He climbed onto the deck and peered through the door. All he could see was a kitchen and a long hallway. He retreated and went back to his car. He sat in the car for quite a while thinking through all the possibilities. He finally decided on a course of action. He got the gun out of the trunk and tucked it into the back of his jeans like he had seen in a movie. He climbed onto the front porch and knocked on the door. Montoya opened the door.
“Mr. Montoya?”
“Yeah.”
“We need to talk.”
“Who the hell are you?”
Terry pulled the gun out of his jeans. “I’m the guy with the gun. Now back up.”
