The 6:20 Man

“So then how did the email manage to show up in my inbox?” asked Devine, before answering his own question: “Someone had to have my email address.”

“Yes, this is true. But that is easy to get. The big thing, Travis, is we do not know who send it or how they manage to send it. I mean, we can’t even trace message to any portal on internet.”

“This is getting a little beyond my depth,” conceded Devine.

“There are basically five IP classes. Classes A, B, and C are used for public and private use. Class D for things like video streaming, TV networks, and such.”

“That’s only four classes. What’s the fifth?” asked Devine.

“Class E, not reserved for public. Mainly used for research. Is experimental IP class. If I had to guess, I say your email sent somehow using Class E, but I can’t figure out how.”

“It came in at nine twenty-two a.m. It said that a custodian found Sara’s body at around eight thirty that morning and the police were called. So less than an hour later someone knew she was dead and had details about how she died and where the crime scene was and what she looked like hanging there. And then they sent out a message only to me, as far as I know, that you guys can’t trace. That’s pretty damn fast.”

“You have to find out about this, dude. People I work for are freaking out over this. I mean seriously freaking out.”

“How can I find out about it if you guys can’t? I’m not a world-class hacker.”

“I mean talk to people. Talk to this dude that found body.”

“Is not being able to trace an email really that catastrophic?”

“For me, it is end of world. It means what I do . . . goes poof. And it means that bad people on internet, they get away with anything, because they are invisible. Get with program.”

When he said it like that, Devine began to understand the importance of the situation.

“And you knew this girl, Travis. You told me you dated her. Don’t you want to find who killed her?”

“Of course I do. But if I’m going to be snooping around there, I need your help.” Devine was thinking about the security database at Cowl and Comely. He told Valentine what he wanted done.

“Give me your log-in and password,” the Russian said.

Devine hesitated. “I’m not sure I should do that, Will.”

Valentine smiled. “I can find out in about one minute, dude. But if you don’t want my help?”

“You screw me, I’ll kick your ass,” said Devine.

“Dude,” Valentine said with a smile.

Devine emailed it to him and the Russian’s fingers began flying over the keyboard.

“How long do you think it will take?” asked Devine.

“Is done.”

“What!”

“Your employer has bullshit encryption. I email you what you need to get into database.” Valentine did so and said, “And you Americans wonder why you get hacked all the time. Is bullshit.”

As Devine walked off he knew one thing. There was really only one way the sender of the “invisible” email could have known those details at that point in time.

I think whoever sent me the email also killed Sara.