Authors: Adam Croft
‘And people use this for trading illegal stuff, right?’ I ask.
‘They sure do. It’s all kept pretty untraceable, especially when they use Bitcoin as their currency. It’s a digital currency so there aren’t any registered bank accounts or anything. Keeps it all anonymous and more or less untraceable.’
‘That’s mad,’ I say, smiling and pretending that I don’t already know this and am truly amazed.
‘Yeah, totally. There are these places like the Silk Road, which is basically like an illegal version of eBay, where people just sell drugs and guns and people’s credit card details and stuff.’
‘Wasn’t that shut down? I thought I saw something on the news.’
Alan laughs. ‘Nothing’s ever shut down on the dark web. It’s a cat and mouse game, man. They shut it down, someone opens it again in a different place. No problem.’
‘Crazy,’ I say. ‘What other stuff do people do with it? I mean, if they’re trading stolen credit cards and guns and stuff, surely the sky’s the limit for these sorts of people?’
‘Yeah, totally. There’s some really fucked up shit. If you thought the internet was bad, the dark web is something else. If you think of the most fucked up thing you can think of on the internet, that’s basically pre-watershed compared to this shit.’
‘How’s it policed?’ I ask casually.
‘It isn’t really. Well, I mean there’s obviously coppers on there, knocking about trying to get information on who some of these people are but the ones who are really careful can’t be identified. That’s the beauty of the dark web — you can only ever really identify yourself. If you want to stay completely below the radar, it’s a piece of piss.’
The laptop has now booted and Alan’s opened the TOR browser and is busily scrolling through a list of websites. ‘Here, try this one,’ he says, clicking a link. ‘It’s basically an underground dark web version of CraigsList. If you thought the original was bad, this is just mental.’
I’m vaguely familiar with CraigsList, which is basically a catalogue of online classified adverts. Everything from second hand cars to coin collections, right through to escorts and prostitutes. I had an inkling there’d be far fewer coin collections on this version, though.
‘This is great, thanks,’ I say. ‘Should give me a few ideas and help keep it all realistic.’
‘Yeah, good thing. I’m totally sick of the way all these books and films do the computer stuff, y’know? “Oh, let me just zoom in on that grainy image and read the inscription on the guy’s ring.” “Let me just tap the keyboard a few times and hack into NASA.” It’s all bullshit, man.’
I chuckle. ‘Yeah, tell me about it. Mind if I go and have a browse? I’ll keep away from the weird shit,’ I say.
Alan laughs and sits back at his computer. ‘You’ll have a fucking job.’
Once I’m sitting at Alan’s dining room table, I explore a little further. I find a section on the website titled
Favours in Kind
, which seems to list mainly non-financial transactions people are interested in. Most of the language is odd colloquialism, with obscure references to what seems to mostly be drugs and guns, although there are some posts which are clearly even heavier than that.
I decide to take the plunge and click the
Register
link. The first thing that hits me is that this is the only website I’ve ever come across which asks me for only two things: a username and a password. No email address, no name, nothing. I look around the room and try to pick something obscure. I see the drinks cabinet, have no clue what kind of wood it’s actually made from, but type
walnut6676
in the username box and choose a password I know I’ll remember but which I’ve never used anywhere else.
That’s it. I’m signed up and back in the
Favours in Kind
section of the website. I take some time to drill down through the locations so I know the advert will be seen by users who are relatively local. I don’t want to push it too far, so I keep my options open. I’m pretty sure someone’ll travel for three grand.
I click the
New thread
link and type in the title to my advert, trying to think of a cryptic, underground way to word it. Do I need to? This is the dark web after all. In the end I plump for:
Garbage disposal expert needed. Cash available
. In the text of the advert, I write:
I have need for the removal of a particularly nasty piece of rubbish. Generous cash payment available for experienced and knowledgeable removal expert.
I read it through again. It’s cryptic, but not so much that no-one’ll know what I’m after. Perhaps just enough to weed out anyone who’s not serious. If someone’s capable of doing the job for me, they’ll know what I’m on about.
I spend the next hour or so browsing the dark web as well as checking my emails on the internet and generally catching up on some of the stuff I’ve missed. When I’m done, I hand the laptop back to Alan and ask if I can use it again as and when needed, just until I’ve got my own laptop back.
It’s always handy to know you’ve got someone you can count on.
When I get back to the house, Jane McKenna’s already there, waiting for me. She smiles at me a little too keenly as I walk into the living room. Tasha seems a little uneasy.
‘Hello, Nick,’ McKenna says as she finishes drinking her cup of tea. ‘I was just updating Natasha on the search. We’ve had officers combing the woodland out towards the motorway and the radio appeals are going to go national. It’s looking likely that whoever’s got Ellie will either be keeping her well hidden or will have taken her further afield by now.
Well I could have told you that
, I think. In fact, I recall saying as much right from the start. ‘So that’s it?’ I say. ‘You’ve come to give us the news that there’s no news?’
‘They’re doing all they can, Nick,’ Tasha says. I wonder why she’s suddenly so defensive of the police. It gets to me that she’s seemed far more reassured by them than she has been by her own husband. Her reaction to the whole Derek incident and hearing about the Angela thing was kind of understandable, but I still would’ve expected her to have stood by me a little more firmly. Once again, it feels like Nick against the world. I become even more sure that I’m pursuing the right path to get it all sorted out once and for all.
‘It’s fine,’ McKenna says, putting a placating hand on Tasha’s knee. Seems they’ve become the best of friends since I went out. ‘Actually, Nick, I was just wondering if I could ask you a couple of things.’
Tasha picks up on the subtext quicker than I do. ‘I’ll go and make some tea.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ I say. ‘I’ll do it. We can talk in the kitchen.’
I don’t think anyone actually even wants tea, so I don’t ask. I close the kitchen door behind me and wait to hear what McKenna has to say.
‘How have you been coping?’ she asks, leaning back against the cupboards, her head cocked slightly to one side.
‘About as well as you’d expect, I suppose.’
‘Well I think you’re doing a great job. That’s the problem, there’s not much the parents can do. I guess you feel pretty hopeless and helpless.’
‘That about covers it, yeah,’ I say.
‘I hear you’ve been getting out and about a bit more over the last day or two.’
This surprises me slightly. Have they been tailing me? ’Yeah, I have. Change of scenery. Bit of fresh air and all that.’
‘One of our officers saw you heading into the Talbot Arms,’ she says, catching me off guard. I’m pretty sure she’d’ve seen my eyes flicker. Bitch.
‘Really? Oh yeah, I popped in for a quick drink. Trying to take my mind off things, you know. Like you say, there’s not much we can do and I just feel like I’m sitting around waiting for news. I’ll go stir crazy.’
‘I can imagine,’ she says, smiling. ‘An odd place to choose, though, isn’t it? I mean, it’s the other side of town from here.’
‘I was passing,’ I say, before I can even stop myself. What if the police officer had followed me all the way? They’d know that was bullshit. ‘Not somewhere I usually drink, but I didn’t really want to go somewhere familiar. I wanted the escapism, I guess.’
McKenna nods. ‘You’ve lived in this town a long time, haven’t you?’
‘All my life,’ I say.
She nods again. ‘Never had the best reputation, that pub. Must admit, when I was in uniform I used to spend more time breaking up fights in the Talbot than I did doing anything else.’
‘Happens to every pub at some point,’ I say, forcing a smile.
‘Yeah, but more often than not it’s there. That place never changes. Never will, I suspect. Which makes me think it’s rather an odd place for you to go for a quick pint. I can’t imagine the regulars at the Talbot are the sort of people you’re keen to hang around with.’
‘Like I said, it’s a change of scenery. I didn’t want to go somewhere where people would know me.’
‘Makes sense,’ she replies. ‘So you don’t know anyone who drinks at the Talbot at all?’
I try to look at her for as long as I can get away with, in some sort of attempt to determine whether or not she knows more than she’s letting on.
‘No, no-one.’
‘Glad to hear it,’ she says. ‘Some very dodgy characters drink in there, you know. The sort of people you’d be better off keeping well away from.’
‘Well I didn’t stay for long,’ I say.
‘I know.’ She stares at me for a little longer than is necessary. ‘Still, better than drinking at home alone, eh?’ She smiles and pushes herself back upright, away from the kitchen cupboards. ‘I’ll keep you up to date if there’s any more news. Keep positive, won’t you?’
I watch as she lets herself out and wonder what the hell just happened.
‘What was that all about?’ Tasha says, hearing the door close and coming into the kitchen to see me.
‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘I really don’t know.’
She puts the kettle on, clearly wanting that cup of tea after all. ’She was acting all weird before you came back, asking strange questions.’
‘What sort of questions?’ I ask as nonchalantly as I can.
‘Stuff about where you’d been over the last few days, if you’d told me. She asked about your friends, too.’
‘Friends?’ I wonder if perhaps I seemed a little eager with that question.
‘Yeah. Wanted to know who you saw on a regular basis, things about your social life,’ she says, dropping a teabag in each mug.
‘Weird,’ I say, trying to sound unperturbed. ‘What did you say?’
‘What could I say? Only that you don’t really go out all that much. Don’t really see anyone regularly.’
This unsettles me a bit. I know she’s telling the truth, but hearing it makes me a little uneasy. She’s right — I’ve pretty much abandoned most of my friends in the quest for a happy family life. Funny thing is, it hasn’t even worked. My daughter’s been kidnapped by some psychopath and I’m trying to think of ways to murder my wife. Happy families.
‘What did she want to say to you?’ Tasha asks, pouring boiling water on the teabags.
‘Oh, apparently one of her officers saw me popping into a pub the other day,’ I say. The first rule of lying is to tell the absolute truth right up to the bit you don’t want the other person to know. That way, you’ve got less bullshit to remember and stick to. ‘I had to get out for a bit and I went over the other side of town for a change of scenery. She thought it was a bit odd, which I suppose it was, so wanted to know why I was there.’
‘Christ, what business is it of hers?’ Tasha asks. I’m unsure as to whether she’s being serious or if she’s playing the same game as McKenna.
First rule of lying again. ‘Well, I suppose she’s going to have her suspicions. Whichever way you look at it, on paper I’ve got to be their prime suspect. Statistically speaking, one or both of the parents are usually involved when it comes to kids disappearing like this.’
‘Don’t look at me,’ she replies, without even bothering to see if I’m looking at her. ‘I was on my way to work. I’ve got an alibi.’ Again, I don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose or if she’s just completely oblivious to her subtext.
‘Yeah. Well I thought I did until that fucker over the road decided to lie to the police.’
‘Why would he do that, Nick?’ Tasha asks, turning to face me with one hand on her hip. Now I know she’s more than aware of what she’s doing.
‘I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’ve been trying to think of what I could possibly have done to upset him, but I just can’t. I mean, I guess it’s possible that he didn’t see anything but I can’t imagine for one second that the day Ellie went missing was the first day he hadn’t been spying out of his window.’
‘Do you really think he’s involved somehow?’ Tasha says after a few seconds’ silence.
‘I hope not,’ I reply. ‘I dunno. Yeah, he’s a bit weird but if he was a child abductor don’t you think something would’ve been done by now? Like McKenna said, his record’s clean. Yes, unlike mine, before you say it.’
‘I wasn’t going to,’ she lies.
There’s a good twenty seconds or so of complete silence, in which I decide to root around in the cupboards for a biscuit. What’s left unsaid is louder than anything that could be spoken, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the first one to say anything.
I didn’t fancy another day of moping around the house, but I did want to see if my post on the dark web had had any replies, so I decided to head round to Alan’s. McKenna would know — somehow — but I don’t think it’d be unreasonable to argue that even the most unsociable of people would want to seek comfort in the arms of friends when their daughter had gone missing.