The Meeting, Part 4

If he expected a reaction from the Boss, Davis had to be disappointed. He just kept asking questions in his deliberate way. "They have no internal security system?"

"No. Cameras and sensors? No. In his own home, Richard valued his privacy almost as much as you do." Davis tried to think ahead. "They had only one servant – a cook – and she was out that day. Her alibi is airtight. She…"

"I accept the cook's innocence. Was there automation in the home?"

"Some. Cleaning systems, mostly. But just simple machines - nothing intelligent enough to recognize faces, or keep records of what happened." Davis seemed tired, rubbing his forehead. "Richard lived simply, given his resources."

The Boss studied Davis for a moment. "You stated that the police were useless. What do they believe happened?"

Davis curled his lip. "As far as they're concerned, she evaporated." He waved his hand as if indicating a huge crowd of police. "We had them all in: the local police, then the ones from the State of New York, then the feds. After that, I had teams flown in from every country that owed us a favor - Israel, China, and Argentina, off the top of my head – all supposedly the best available. All of them produced gigabytes of reports, models, simulations, studies, video presentations. None of them found Sonia, or could explain how she disappeared."

Davis shot the Boss a look. "If you have any questions about the police reports, you'll have to let me use my link."

"That won't be necessary," the Boss answered cooling. "I only have a few more questions. I'm confident that you can answer them using only human memory." Davis looked skeptical, but the Boss ignored it. "First question: did the police check the girl's link data?"

"Link data?"

The Boss was patient. "I mentioned it before, in reference to your own link. Links upload their contents continuously. I know the girl was already unlinked by the time her father tried to call her, but if she saw something before she was unlinked…"

It was Davis's turn to interrupt. "No." He looked uncomfortable.

The Boss didn't seem surprised. "No? Why not? The data is encrypted, as I said, but even the police could break it, given time. There are laws preventing that, but surely, given the circumstances, you could have those set aside."

Davis waved the suggestion away. "That's not the problem." Davis really didn't like this topic. He was clearly embarrassed, and struggling. "The fact is… she wasn't linked at the time."

Now the Boss was puzzled. "Not linked?"

"No," Davis answered. "We know for sure. The police checked the time-tags on the records. They can do that easily enough - no decryption required – and they told the story. According to them, she had last linked in the morning, well before she left the house." Davis became defensive. "This isn't really surprising."

Maybe not to him, but it sure was to me. I wanted to speak, but I couldn't find my voice. The Boss's next question filled me with hope and fear.

"Was her jack… defective?"

Davis was surprised and annoyed by the question. I don't know how I felt about his reaction: relief and disappointment I guess. "No, of course not."

"Then why was she unlinked?"

"She just… Basically, she disapproved of them. She thought they were a crutch." Davis touched the back of his head where his own open jack was, then realized what he was doing and self-consciously lowered his hand. "It was her choice, I'm sure of that. She had a tennis lesson that morning, and many people saw there. She was fine then."

"Was her class the reason she unlinked that day? She didn't want a crutch?"

Davis thought about it and shrugged. "Probably. She also unlinked during classes for the same reason - said she wanted to learn things on her own." He smiled ruefully. "We… we discussed the topic more than a few times."

The Boss didn't react, but I was stunned. A linker who voluntarily unlinked? I didn't know there were such people. I'm sure Davis had never voluntarily unlinked longer than the time required to swap units.

The Boss said "That probably answers my next question as well, but it needs to be asked regardless. Has she ever… jacked up?"

Davis looked appalled. "Of course not."

The Boss nodded again. "A conventional reaction. But this young woman – Sonia, is that right? – Sonia has some unconventional opinions, did she not? And the strength of will to back them up." The Boss looked wistful. "Sometimes the strong overestimate their strength…"

Davis shook his head. "No, not about that. She found jackers, the whole idea of jacking, completely disgusting." Clearly, Davis himself did too. "I doubt she has ever met a real jacker face-to-face. They don't live in that kind of neighborhood."

"Let's hope you're right," said the Boss. "If she is hidden among the jackers, she would be difficult to find. But I accept your judgment." If she really could resist using a link, then I accepted his judgment too. What a woman. I mean, it made me feel good just to know that somebody like her existed. I wasn't like to ever meet her, even ignoring the fact that she was already missing, but I hoped she was okay.

"That was question two", continued the Boss. "They get easier from here. In fact, I expect you can answer these yes or no – probably no. Question three: where any of her personal belongs missing? Clothes, shoes, toiletries, luggage – anything along those lines?"

"No," replied Davis, playing along. He looked curious.

"Question four," said the Boss. "Is anything valuable missing? Cash? Artwork? Have there been any there activities on her credit lines? On her father's credit lines? On her bank accounts, trust fund – whatever financial institutions she might have used?"

Davis had started shaking his head "no" right away, and continued throughout. When the Boss was done, he protested "Is that really count as just one question?"

"Since the answer was no, it does," replied the Boss. "All I am really asking asking is, does she have money or access to money." The Boss sat thoughtfully for a moment. "It seems unlikely," he said slowly, "that she has run away of her own volition. One can live without money, but I doubt that any child accustomed to wealth would choose to do so. Most would find the concept inconceivable."

Everyone was quiet. It was a sad moment.

At length, the Boss spoke up. "Last question," he said. "The likelihood is low, but the question must be asked. Was the house carefully examined?"

Davis gave the Boss a disgusted look. "Of course. By every forensic expert available."

The Boss held out his hand. "I don't mean forensics. Naturally, there were no signs of intruders. I meant the house itself - to see if the girl is still there."

"It was checked," replied Davis, sounding confused. "It wasn't torn apart – no one wanted to risk destroying evidence – but it was thoroughly checked. The walls were X-rayed. Each room was measured, and the whole house modeled, to confirm that there were no hidden spaces. Even the foundation was excavated and checked. That's why claiming that the foundation cracked was such a good cover story".

The Boss said nothing. Instead he sat back, lost in thought.

Just like before, Davis gave him a little time, but only until his impatience and irritation couldn't stand it. "Why did you say that 'naturally, there were no signs of intruders'? How could you know that? I keep mentioning the forensics reports, and you keep dismissing them. You haven't even asked if there was evidence of intruders, or signs that the security system was tampered with."

The Boss shrugged. "Were there?"

"No, but…" Davis started, but the Boss interrupted.

"Of course not," said the Boss. "You object to my pause? What have we eliminated? She did not run away, she is not hidden in the house – what does that leave?" The Boss looked grave. "If there is any alternative to kidnap, any alternative to all…"

The Boss paused again, but only for a moment. Then he braced himself to continue. "But there is not. Your Sonia seems to have been…," he searched for the proper phrase, "… spirited away." He waved his hand. "Such an illusion is not easy to create. It takes time, skill, and great care. Would anyone, having gone to such trouble, leave evidence behind for the police?" The Boss wave the idea away with one hand. "The idea is absurd."

Davis slowly pulled himself up in his seat, head back, with another strange look on his face. When he spoke, his voice was calm but his words were slow and careful. "So," he said, his lips barely parting, "you've solved the problem? Figured it out?"

"For certain? No. But I can guess." The Boss leaned back, very much in his element. The Boss assumed his standard lecture position: elbows propped on the arms of his chair, and fingers laced together and held below his chin.

"The key is the security system. Imagine that you are the kidnapper. Break into the security system. Be careful so that you won't be noticed while you are in, and can remove all evidence of the break-in when you leave."

When he lectures, the Boss tends to unfocus while he speaks, then pauses to make sure his victim is keeping up. He did it now, and Davis dutifully produced the smallest possible nod.

The Boss continued: "Being inside the security system gives you immediate access to the surveillance video. With it, you can watch as people come and go, and do so with impunity." The Boss focused on Davis, almost as though he really were the kidnapper. "You would be wise to watch the surveillance video for a few days to learn the rhythm of the home and the people within it."

Again, Davis nodded, and the Boss continued. "On the day that you are ready, watch everyone leave – father, daughter, and cook. Wait and watch until your target, Sonia, returned. Now you know that she is in the house, alone, and you can act."

Without unlacing his hands, the Boss lifted one finger. "Disable the alarms - easily done from within the security system.

A second finger: "This is important: leave the cameras recording. Although this means that your activities will be recorded, it also provides legitimate footage the rest of the time. You'll want that later.

The ring finger: "Carry out the kidnapping. The details are unimportant, but it must be done with skill and care so there is no sign of struggle, and no forensic evidence." The Boss paused for a moment. "Perhaps the girl was drugged," he muttered, as though thinking aloud. "You would need an expert to do so safely."

Instead of raising the fourth finger, the Boss spread his hands as if passing a plate, and continued in his normal voice. "Finally, remove all trace of your presence from the surveillance video record." The Boss refocused on Davis. "This is the critical part," he said. "I assume the estate surveillance cameras sweep from side to side – is that true?" Davis nodded, and the Boss nodded back. "That complicates matters, but only slightly."

"The procedure required isn't difficult. Remember, having broken into the security system, you have access to all of the surveillance cameras and their recorded video." Once again, the Boss interlaced his fingers. "But it does required time and care. For simplicity, consider just one case: erasing your arrival from the recording of single camera."

First finger: "Begin by scanning backward through the footage. Find the moment when you first appear in the recording. Because the camera moves, note the exact camera angle at that moment. Also note the length of time that you remain in that shot."

Second finger: "Next, continue to scan backwards in time. You are looking for footage with two properties. First, the camera must be exactly at the noted angle. Second, no identifiable activity can be seen for the noted duration."

Third finger: "Once you find such footage, copy it, and then paste it over the footage that contains your image. With that one step, you effectively disappear from the record."

Once again, the Boss spread his hands. He was very predictable – really, I've seen him go through this a thousand times. "Do the same things for your departure, then repeat the whole process for the rest of the surveillance cameras. When you're done, simply back out of the security system, erasing any trace of your break-in." The Boss spread his hands wide, his standard big finish. "There you have it – mystery created."

If he expected applause, he sure didn't get it. Davis spoke as before – tightly and under control. "That's great – but that isn't what happened."

I'm not sure the Boss picked up on Davis' mood. He knew something was wrong, but was still thinking technology. "It needn't be obvious," he said, reassuringly. "Depending on the quality of the video and the nature of the scene, many editing glitches can be concealed quite easily. For static scenes and lo-resolution cameras, a simple blend across the cut might suffice. But even if the scenes are dynamic and the cameras are excellent, most transitions can be masked with a few minutes of touch up. Video editing tools are quite powerful these days, and possibly only a frame or two on either side of each cut would need attention."

The Boss stopped as he does, and waited for Davis to acknowledge him. But there was no little nod, just a tight smile. The Boss's confidence started to waver, if only a little.

"If that's not sufficient," he continued, a little more slowly, "there are other things you can do. Surveillance cameras are not perfect. They are subject to the forces of nature, and their recordings are rarely closely examined." The Boss hesitated a moment – still nothing from Davis – before going on. "The simplest solution would be to process the whole video record, randomly creating glitches identical to your own. This takes more time, but can be automated. Scan back a random interval, blend two or three frames, then repeat, for example."

Davis still didn't respond. Even the Boss could no longer ignore it.

"Is that what happened?" he asked. Davis shook his head no. "No glitches?" asked the Boss.

"Yes, there were few glitches." The mask was starting to crack. Davis's got louder with each word. "Of course there were glitches." Still louder. "But… that… isn't... what… HAPPENED!"

David was livid. Any attempt at control gone. He glared in the face of the stunned Boss for a moment, then stood up – he was practically standing already – marched a few steps away, and stopped with his back turned toward us.

But the Boss didn't see it, because even his eyes didn't move. He kept looking at the spot where Davis had been. He may have been thinking, or he may have been in shock.