The Man of Maybe Half-a-Dozen Faces by Ray Vukcevich Read Free Book Online

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    â€œIs that a suspicious look?”
    â€œYou bet,” I said. “Do you know all these people?”
    â€œMore or less.” She reached across the desk for the list “I haven’t actually met them all. Everyone was probably from Eugene originally, or they were friends of friends or something like that. Maybe college chums. People move. I’ll bet not many are still physically here in town any more.”
    â€œDo you know what four-e-four is?”
    I thought I saw something cross her face. Something sudden. Had I surprised her? In any case, it was over in a flash, and she pulled herself together.
    â€œYou mean the anonymous remailing service?” she said.
    â€œSo is it secret, too?”
    â€œNo. Just not widely publicized,” she said. “I’m surprised you picked up on it. Where did you hear about it?”
    â€œI am a detective, you know.”
    â€œYou think it might have something to do with the case?”
    â€œWho knows?” I said. “It keeps popping up everywhere I look. Do you know who the people with four-e-four addresses are?”
    â€œWell, that depends on what you mean.” she said. “I’ve been in touch by e-mail with all of them, but I guess I don’t know who any of them really are. The whole idea of anonymous is that no one’s supposed to know. I mean all I have are handles.”
    I got up and came around the desk and stood looking over her shoulder at the list. I reached down and pointed at [email protected]. “What do you know about this one, for example?”
    â€œWell, she signs her messages ‘Cleo.’ Ah … let me see. She’s very very picky.”
    â€œYou’re sure she’s a woman?”
    â€œWell, sure,” Prudence said. “Well, maybe not. How could I be sure?”
    â€œLittle clues,” I said.
    â€œI guess I’d have to be looking for them at the time,” she said.
    â€œI suppose so.” I pointed at another 4e4.com address. “What about that one?”
    â€œBob, from Buffalo,” she said.
    â€œYou know he’s from Buffalo?”
    â€œYeah,” she said. “Well, I guess I actually don’t know that either. That’s just what everyone calls him. Maybe he just came from Buffalo or something.”
    â€œOr maybe he used to be on TV.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhy would documentalists go to the trouble of working through an anonymous remailer? Especially a high-power one like this Russian company?”
    â€œHow did you know they were Russian?”
    â€œI told you,” I said, “I’m a detective.”
    â€œI’m impressed.”
    â€œSo what about it? Why do almost a third of these guys need to hide?”
    â€œYou know how it is.” she said.
    â€œTell me.”
    â€œFor some people,” she said. “It’s a matter of principle. It’s no one’s business who you are and where you live. If you’re anonymous, you’re free. In a way, that’s what the net is all about.”
    â€œYeah, well one of those guys could be our killer,” I said. “I want you to write down what you know about each of the names on the list. Even the ones not using the remailer.”
    â€œWhat kind of stuff?”
    â€œHandles,” I said, “and names and locations if you know them. Oh, and if you do know anything juicy, like time spent in prison or stuff like that, put it down.”
    When she’d finished I glanced over the list again. There were a lot of holes in our information. Prudence didn’t know the real names or locations of any of the 4e4.coms, but she did know their handles. Of the others, most were scattered all over the world. Five (aside from the two dead men and Prudence herself) were marked “Eugene.”
    Leo Unger from Challenger Video, where Randy Casey, the second dead man, worked—small world.
    Sadie Campbell of SplashDown Software. I