Driftnet by Lin Anderson Read Free Book Online

took a
look at his neighbour. Constable McPhail looked almost as
frightened and bewildered as the children in the pictures, but the
child abuse worker never flinched. She walked between the consoles,
pointing out references and web addresses, linking the patterns to
show how the threads that made up the awful net of corruption wound
straight back to Scotland.
    They believed
there were three paedophile rings operating in Glasgow, she
explained. All three were separate but in contact with one another.
New technology offered a fast track to new recruitment.
    Imagine a child
at the computer, she said. A quiet child, perhaps a bit of a loner.
An adolescent boy. This boy liked using the Internet. He could talk
to others with the same interests as himself, without ever having
to meet them. He could be a bit more open than usual in these
electronic conversations, a bit more adventurous. He could give
himself a new name, a new persona. It was every awkward child’s
idea of heaven. Not that different from ringing up a sex line
number, she said and there was an uneasy laugh from a couple of men
at the back. Bill didn’t join in and neither did Constable
McPhail.
    It didn’t take
long for a paedophile ring to compile a list of possibilities and
then the courtship began. Much like any other courtship. Just
friendly at first, finding a mutual interest to talk about. There
were lots of chat rooms on the Internet, the woman explained, and
for good measure she showed them one.
    The name of the
chat room generated some tentative laughter. Bill could see the
guys were uneasy at being reminded that 95 per cent of all sexual
abuse was perpetrated by men.
    Fortunately
Busty Blondes turned out to be a joke for most of them. It centred
mainly on pictures of Pamela Anderson’s tits and what you thought
about them, in minute detail. The likelihood was, the woman was
saying, that someone was wanking off to this right at this minute.
There was no shortage of customers. This particular chat room was
full.
    Once a child
was identified, they got started in earnest. Kids logged on at
night or in the early hours of the morning when their parents were
asleep. After the ‘I am your friend’ conversations, the pictures
would arrive. Not bad at first, the usual girlie stuff. She gave
the room a look that said, just like the ones we’ve all just
laughed at. The sort of stuff it would be embarrassing for an
adolescent to buy over the counter. If the kid responded, then the
next set would be more horny, might shock them a little, but always
the reassurance that there was no harm in it. After all it was on
the television all the time.
    There were a
few uncomfortable blokes in that room by now. Bill could sense
them. No one liked the idea that anything they did or watched or
looked at, led to this.
    Then the next
set of pictures would arrive. Things the boy might have thought
about but never dare ask to see. Things that shocked but made you
go back for more. If the kid stayed on line, the paedos were made.
If the kid logged off, then it wasn’t over yet. There was always
the threat of blackmail. They would send some of the messages to
the child’s parents, maybe some of the pictures. Either way, they
had the child hooked.
    The next step
was the meeting. Then the abuse could begin in earnest.
    Bill stood on
the steps of the university and took a deep breath. He wanted to
clear his head of the stink. Constable McPhail was coming down the
steps behind him. She gave him a look that said she’d had enough
for one day and headed for her car. His was in the university car
park but he took a split-second decision not to go back to the
office right away. He needed fresh air, the normality of people
walking about, shopping, living. People who couldn’t do things like
that to children. He turned and walked towards the park. The trees
were fresh green, the delicate green you get in Scotland in early
summer. The rain had washed the street and the deep gutters