Why Not Murder

13. Suicide?

13. Suicide?

The first autumn leaves had fallen. Maya was at Angry Dog's front door waiting for him to answer. While she was peering in through a front window, he came up the walk behind her. They smiled at each other and hugged, feeling better than the last time. The watch dogs were jumping around like puppies, wagging their tails.

"Hope you weren't waiting long," Dog said, "I was fixing internet and technical issues at the office of one of my clients. Come on in." As he opened the door for them, a voice from his main computer said, "Hello Dog." "It turns on if it was off when I come through the door," Dog explained. "Have a seat," he said to Maya and prepared two coffees.

"How've you been?" Dog asked.

"I've been at home, staying away from my investigation for a while, completely off-grid," Maya answered, "And what about you?"

Dog didn't answer but said, "Then there's something you may not be aware of yet." He sat at his computer and keyed rapidly. An In-Depth report came up with the face of Heather Roberts on screen. Heather Roberts had been found dead, slumped over the reception desk at the office of Hudson Laymuir, Architect. The cause was apparent suicide because two empty bottles of potent sleeping pills were found in her purse, enough to knock out three large men. She was the wife of the late Wyler Roberts who died last month from a savage bear attack. A note was also found in her purse which had been wrinkled up. It said "My heart is broken." There has been an effort to contact her relatives but none have been located. Mr. Laymuir called the suicide tragic and regretted that it had occurred at his place of business.

"Oh no, how horrible," Maya said feeling truly sorry for Heather. "She has a house on Winona Road in the city," Maya added, "Wonder who will benefit from that if no relatives come forward?"

"Let's check it out," Dog said. He logged into the provincial registry system and simultaneously searched property values in the area. "There's a huge mortgage on the property," Dog continued, "The foreclosure process has begun. The bank won't even recover their investment. The place is worth less now than the price it was bought for, and less than the principal amount of the mortgage taken out on it."

"I also found something else out," Dog said, "Wyler and Heather met four years back. They were never legally married either, but Heather was getting credit on her income tax for supporting him as a common-law spouse."

"How do you find all this out?" Maya asked, "Aren't you afraid of the authorities tracking your internet history?"

Dog chuckled, "Not at all," he said. "I have my own sub-internet going on that is untraceable. I am not on the official grid. It's like I'm a parasite with many limbs that is hanging on to the underbelly of the official beast. If any of my actions on the internet are searched, the source leads back to a computer IP address that is an existing official one. For instance, if I search police records it appears that a real detective's computer is the source. If I search government records, it appears that someone in the government office itself is the source of the search. I have hacked into so many places and looped my existence back to as many real official computers. The barrier between me and the official internet is such that it's like them looking into a mirror and not seeing me behind it."

"That's utterly amazing!" Maya said.

"It's a work in progress," Dog answered, "As I have said to you before, the only way we can survive is by being smarter than the enemy and their being unaware of it."

"The winner is the one with the most money," Maya said.

"I'm making headway in that direction too," Dog said, "I've found a way to skim off electronic funds that move back and forth between various banks and the central bank. It trickles through off-shore corporate holding companies, pension funds and the like and finally collects in small puddles that are deposited to accounts under the guise of tax rebates and credits. There's no big money at once, but if you are patient, the puddles amass into an ocean."