4. Meeting Roger
I need to hire someone to help me run the store. Someone to deal with the customers and the phone calls from the bill collectors. I hate it when I have to stop working to answer the phone or talk to someone who walks in the door. I’ve thought about putting an ad in the paper, but what would it say?
“Wanted: someone to run my computer store while I sit in the back room and watch people on their webcams to try and find my wife’s murderer.”
That would get some attention. No, I need to find someone who isn’t going to ask a lot of questions. It’d probably be best if they knew a little about computers but not enough to figure out what I’m doing. There’s a kid who comes into the shop a lot, messing with the computers. He looks to be about sixteen. I decide to talk to him and find out a little about him.
“Hey, how’s it going?”
“Hey,” he responds without looking at me.
“So, you like computers, huh?” I don’t know what else to say.
“Look, mister, if you don’t want me messing with the computer, just say so. It’s a piece of shit anyway.”
Great, I think, he’s a smart ass. I can deal with that.
“What do you mean, a piece a shit?” I say. “That baby’s got a 2.6 GHz Pentium processor and 1.5 gigabytes of ram. It’s a monster.”
“A monster? More like a dinosaur. Now if you’d upgrade the processor to a Core i7, add a DDR3 memory module, and a GTX 650 Ti graphics card, it might be able to play some of the older StarCraft games without crashing.”
“Are you a gamer?” I ask.
“No, not really. There aren’t any games worth spending my time on. I’m a code monkey. I like to program. I hear that you are, too. Or were,” he says, finally turning around to look at me.
“Where did you hear that?” I’m surprised he knows anything about me. I’ve always been kind of a loner, never really had any friends. While all the other kids spent their time playing sports, I was learning to program.
“I go to Lincoln High, same school you went to. Mr. Griffin still teaches computer science. He says I remind him of you. At least, the way you were,” he adds with a smirk.
“Hey, I might not be up on all the latest and greatest technology—who has time to keep up with that shit? But, I still know my way around a computer, don’t worry about that.” Why am I defending myself to this kid?
“So, you still program?” he asks. “What have you been working on, figuring out the odds on the college basketball tournament so you can fill out a winning bracket?”
Wow, I think, that’s a good idea! “No, have you?” I ask, and he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. I haven’t talked to anyone about programming for a while, and I have to admit I’m a little excited about showing off some of my work. “OK, smart ass,” I say, “If I show you what I’ve been working on can you keep it to yourself?”
“Who am I gonna talk to? I don’t know anyone who understands a word I say.”
I get the feeling I can trust this kid. He reminds me of myself at that age. “So, what’s your name?”
“Roger Sanchez,” he says while following me to the back room.
“My name’s Jim Gotweb, by the way.”
“I know. ‘Jim’s Got Web,’” he says, making air quotes. “What a catchy name for a computer store.” Again with the rolling eyes.
“You come up with something better.”
“How about just ‘Got Web?’ You know, like the old ‘Got Milk?’ slogan?”
Damn, that’s good, I think. Oh, well, it’s too late to change it now. I don’t plan to tell him about my program; I’ll just give him a little information to see his reaction. I show him a block of code I’ve been working on and watch as he scans it.
The code I show him isn’t directly related to my network, so I’m shocked when he says, “So how big is this network?”
“What are you talking about?”
“C’mon,” he says. “Why else would you be running a hidden program that allows you to gain remote access? I’m assuming that you’re sending the program to other users through their email. So, what’re you doing, spying on people through their webcams?”
Damn, so much for not telling him about my program. He’s already figured it out.
“It’s not like that at all,” I say, flustered. “Well, I guess it kind of is, but it’s not what you think. I mean, I’m not spying on people. Well, I am, but not the way you think I am.”
“Calm down,” he says, “I’m not going to turn you in. So what are you doing?”
I take a deep breath and say, “My wife was murdered. I’ve seen the killer and I’ve told the police what he looks like. They haven’t been able to find him, so I’m looking for him myself; one computer at a time.”
“Man,” he says, “What are the odds of finding one person by randomly looking at computers? What if he doesn’t use email, how would you get the program installed on his computer? How do you know he even has a webcam?”
“I try not to think about it too much,” I say. “I probably have a better chance of winning the lottery. But I have to do something. In the mean time, I’ve seen child abuse, robberies, and other stuff. I’ve been able to help a few of them, but I need someone to run the shop while I monitor the network.”
“I’m sorry about your wife,” Roger says, “I know what it’s like to lose someone. My mom killed herself last year. I should have helped her. I knew something was wrong but I didn’t realize how bad it was. She needed someone to talk to and I wasn’t there for her. If there’s anything I can do to help, count me in.”
5. The Naked Lady
Roger’s been working with me for a couple of weeks, although it hasn’t turned out as I’d planned. He spends all of his time in the backroom working with me instead of out front.
While browsing through the new computers on our network, Roger says, “Hey, Mr. Gotweb, take a look at this.”
I’ve been trying to get him to call me Jim, but I think he looks at me as if I’m an old man. I’m only twenty-six, but I guess to a sixteen-year-old, that’s ancient.
“What is it?” I ask, while getting up from my computer.
“It’s a naked lady, and she’s really hot,” he says.
I’m shocked when I see the woman on his monitor; she looks a lot like Diane. She has the same short, black hair and the intense green eyes, but I have to admit—Diane didn’t have a body like that.
She’s completely naked, at least from what I can see, and as I stare at her beautiful breasts she says, “Well, hello boys. I was wondering when you’d stop by to visit me.”
“Is she talking to us?” I ask.
Roger says, “I’ve been warning you about a hole in Big Brother. I think she’s found it. She’s using the program to watch us.”
Sitting at her computer, staring into the camera with a big grin on her face, she says, “Houston, we’ve got a problem.”
“She’s hacked Big Brother?” I ask, “That’s impossible.”
“Oh, yes,” she says, “how would some dumb girl be able to do something like that?”
“What the hell’s going on? Can you hear us?” I ask, in complete shock.
“Yes, of course I can. Why are you so surprised? As much snooping as you’ve been doing, it shouldn’t seem weird to you at all. Now, I’ve shown you mine, so show me yours. Take off all your clothes,” she says.
Standing there dumbfounded, I notice that Roger has a blank stare on his face and is starting to take off his shirt.
“What are you doing?” I ask, “Have you lost your mind?”
“Oh, I thought we were supposed to do what she says. Sorry.”
“Spoil sport,” she says. “So what are you guys up to?”
I’m still in a state of shock that someone has broken into our network, and I have to admit, part of that shock is because it’s a beautiful, naked woman.
“I’m not going to stand here and justify myself to you. How did you find our program?”
“I saw it attached to an email a client sent me. I knew right away what it was, so I opened it to take a look. It’s not bad coding, but it’s a little buggy, so it wasn’t hard for me to alter it. Then I waited around for you guys to come visit me.”
“You sat at your computer naked, waiting for us?” Roger asks.
“No, I have an adult webcam business I run from home. So what’re you guys up to?”
“If you want to talk we should meet somewhere,” I say.
“Fine, I’ll be right there.”
“What? You know where we are?”
“C’mon, Jim,” she says, “Get with the program. Now, you guys need to straighten things up a bit. You’re going to have a visitor.”
About an hour later, she walks into the store. I’m completely unprepared for the effect she has on me. I’ve seen her naked, so you’d think I’d know what to expect, but seeing her in person is another thing completely. She must be six feet tall, with long legs and an athletic body. Her short black hair frames a face that could belong to Diane’s twin.
“Hi, Jim, got web?” she says while smiling and looking around the room. “I’m Melanie. So, this is where you keep the junk for the customers—show me the real toys.”
Roger laughs and says to me, “I like her. I told you this stuff was crap.”
Roger leads her into the back room while I try to collect myself. Somehow, this woman whom I’ve seen nude has hacked into my program and now she’s in my store. It doesn’t seem real.
When I walk into the back room, Roger’s showing her our network. “This is Big Brother,” he says proudly.
“What are you doing?” I say, “Don’t show her that.”
“Look, Jim, you need to calm down,” Melanie says while browsing through our database. “You’re going to give yourself a coronary. You guys aren’t what I expected to find; you don’t look like the perverted type. At least, you don’t,” she says, smiling at Roger. “I can tell this code was written in a hurry, as if you’re on some kind of mission.”
“We are,” Roger says. “We’re trying to find out who murdered Mr. Gotweb’s wife. He’s seen her killer’s face; he has a spider tattoo. We’re searching through people on our network to find him. While looking for him we’ve been finding people that need our help, but we’re having trouble keeping track of all the computers.”
I’m shocked that Roger’s telling this stranger everything. “What in the hell are you doing? I’ve told you how important it is to keep this to ourselves.”
Roger’s looking at Melanie like a lovesick puppy. “I know, but I think we can trust her. I think she’s one of us.”
She looks at me for a moment with a compassionate look in her eyes and then turns to Roger, “You should write a program to keep track of all the computers for you. It would look for predefined activities, like certain keywords used in a search or other suspicious activity. Then it would flag the computer and send you a notification.”
Trying to regain my composure in the presence of this incredible woman, I say, “Actually, we’ve been working on a program like that, but we keep hitting a dead end. It’s difficult to monitor so many computers at the same time.”
“You wouldn’t have to monitor all of them at once,” she says, “You could batch them into groups and levels. Whenever a computer starts getting flagged, it’s moved up to a level that gets monitored more often.”
The buzzer sounds, telling us a customer has walked into the store. Right away, Roger and I start arguing.
“It’s your turn,” I say.
“No, I did the last customer, remember? The lady that said her computer’s memory was leaking so she needed more.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t do anything except tell her we were out of memory.”
“Geez, what’s the matter with you guys?” Melanie says, laughing as she leaves the backroom. “What’s so hard about dealing with customers?”
“Hello there,” she says seductively to a man looking at laptops. “What can I do you for?”
“Oh, hi,” he says, obviously surprised to see her standing so close behind him. “I’m looking for a laptop for my son’s birthday, but these seem expensive.”
“They do cost a little more than the ones at the big box stores,” she says. “But you also get the peace of mind of knowing that if anything ever goes wrong with it, we’ll come to your house and fix it.” Then she adds with a wink, “Day or night.”
“That was amazing,” I say when she comes back to the workshop after selling the laptop. “Is there any way I can talk you into working here?”
“You can’t afford me,” she says, “But I do miss writing code. I wouldn’t mind hanging around a couple hours a day, just to sharpen my skills.”
“Great, and if a customer comes in you could take care of them,” I say hopefully.
“I’ll take my turn,” she says, “You guys need to learn how to work with the customers.”
6. Fainting Goat
Melanie and I have developed a good working relationship. It’s been difficult sitting next to someone who looks so much like Diane and has such an incredible body. But I think I’ve been doing a good job of keeping my fantasies under control.
"Is there a problem?" Melanie asks from across the large desk we share while monitoring the network.
"No, why?"
"Because,” she says, “every time I look up, you're staring at me. Is there something you wanted?”
Maybe I’m not doing such a good job. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more careful. It’s just that you look so much like Diane.”
"Oh, I see. I’m sorry. Would you feel better if I were sitting here naked?"
"Well, yeah, that would be great," I say with more than a little enthusiasm.
"Forget it, I'm not stripping for you. The only reason I’m here is to help with the network."
“I’ve wanted to ask you something,” I say. “It's none of my business, so you can just tell me to go to hell, but I'm curious. Why do you sit naked for all those guys? I mean, you have the skills to get a great job doing anything you want in IT."
Judging by the look on her face, I may have overstepped a boundary. She’s quiet for a while then finally says, “I was a software development engineer for seven years. I was the only female working on a team of chauvinist pigs. Against my better judgment, I got involved with one of them. At first, Stan seemed to be a great guy. We had fun and spent a lot of time together away from work. Everything was fine when we were alone, but at work he acted completely different. He was always complaining about my work and trying to make me look bad in front of everyone. I eventually quit the job—and him.
“I decided to use my looks instead of my brains. Men find me attractive, so why not use that as a way to make a living? I make more money sitting at home naked than I can at any IT job, so why shouldn’t I? I admit I’ve missed programming, but now that I’ve found you guys, I’m doing it again, so I’ve got the best of both worlds.”
“Mr. Gotweb,” Roger says from across the room, “we’ve been getting a lot of hits on 322.203.5.4; I think you should take a look at it.”
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“There was a sudden spike in volume around midnight last night and someone’s on the computer now, googling ‘ways to clean up blood.’”
“Bring it up and we’ll see what’s going on.”
Roger connects to the computer and suddenly I’m staring into the eyes of a very haggard looking man, sitting at his monitor. It always surprises me when I see someone on my screen; it looks like they’re staring right at me. Of course, they can’t tell that I’ve accessed their camera, but it’s still creepy.
“So, what are you up to, Jackson Heller at 2452 West Brighton?” I say aloud, while reading the report. “You don’t look like you’ve gotten any sleep. What happened last night?”
I see something sitting on the floor behind him; it’s a bottle of ammonia and a sponge.
“Looks like he
got the blood out of the carpet,” I say. “What’s he looking for now?”
Roger says, “He’s searching for ‘ways to dispose of a body.’ Do you think he’s killed his wife?” Roger has a note of excitement in his voice. There hasn’t been much action lately and I think he’s starting to get a little bored with my project.
“That’s what it looks like to me. We better act fast if we want to catch him with the evidence.”
“Fainting Goat?” Roger asks hopefully.
Roger has developed a worm that we can activate to make the user’s computer start acting up. He’s nicknamed it the ‘Fainting Goat,’ after the domestic goat whose muscles freeze when it panics.
“Good idea,” I say, “Go for it.”
Roger types in a few keystroke commands, and Jackson’s computer freezes.
We laugh when Jackson beats on the monitor screaming, “C’mon, you piece of shit, not now.”
He reboots the computer, which has no effect. There’s a sticker with the store’s phone number conveniently located on the front of every computer that’s been in the shop. A few minutes later, I get a phone call.
“Jim’s Got Web, If you’re up a creek, we’ll send a geek.” I haven’t gone on a call since Diane’s death, but the catchy slogan we used back then comes naturally to me.
“Yeah, I’ve got a problem with my computer. Send someone over right away.”
Our plan is for Roger to work on the computer while I pretend to be training him.
“I still don’t understand why I can’t be training you,” Roger says as we walk up to the house.
He’s upset about having to pretend he doesn’t know what he’s doing. “Look, Roger, he probably knows I’m the owner of Jim’s Got Web. How would it look if I had a kid showing me how to work on a computer?
“You mean, how would it look if people knew?”
He had a point. Roger’s been teaching me ever since I hired him. How can someone so young know so much?
“I’ll make you a deal—next time you get to be the instructor,” I say while ringing the doorbell.
When Jackson comes to the door, we both take a step back, surprised by his appearance. He looks like death warmed over. The desperation and panic in his eyes reminds me of a wild animal backed into a corner, planning to fight his way out.