Hello, Detective, how can I assist you?
Tell me, is there a way I can record a live webcam broadcast that Im watching on my computer right now?
Baxter laughed. Wow, is she that hot?
Is there a way or not, Dennis?
Hunters tone knocked the play out of Baxters voice.
Not unless you have some sort of screen recording software installed on your computer, he answered.
Will I have one?
On an LAPD office computer? Not as standard. You can put in a request and IT will install one for you in a day or two.
No good. I need to capture whats on my screen right now.
A split-second pause.
Well, I can do it from here, Baxter said. If youre watching something
live over the net, just give me the web address. I can log into the same website and capture it for you. How does that sound?
Good enough. Lets try it. Hunter gave Baxter the sequence of numbers the caller had given him minutes earlier.
An IP address? Baxter asked.
Thats right. Arent they traceable? Hunter asked.
Yes. Thats actually their main purpose. They work almost like a license number plate for every computer connected to the net. With that, I can pretty much tell you the exact location of the source computer.
Hunter frowned. Could the caller have made such a silly mistake?
Do you want me to start a trace? Baxter asked.
Yes.
OK. Ill get back to you as soon as I get anything. He disconnected.
The water was already reaching the mans waist. At that speed, Hunter calculated that the man would be completely submerged in another minute and a half, maybe two.
Operations said that there was no way they could trace the call? Hunter asked Garcia.
Thats right. He was bouncing the signal all over town.
The water reached the mans stomach. He was still trying to wiggle himself free, but he was steadily losing energy. He was shivering even more now. A combination of uncontrollable fear and the water temperature, Hunter guessed.
There was nothing Hunter or Garcia could say, so they both went eerily quiet, watching death rise inch by inch around the man on their computer screens.
The phone on Hunters desk rang again.
Detective, is this for real? Dennis Baxter asked.
Right now, I have no reason to believe it isnt. Are you capturing it?
Yeah, Im recording it.
Any luck with tracing it?
Not yet. It can take a few minutes.
Get back to me if you get anything.
Sure.
The water reached the mans chest, and the camera slowly zoomed in on his face. He was sobbing. Hope had left his eyes. He was giving up.
I dont think I can watch this, Garcia said, moving from behind his desk and pacing the room.
The water reached the mans shoulders. In a minute it would be past his nose, and death would arrive with the next breath. He closed his eyes and waited. He wasnt trying to break free anymore.
The water reached the underside of his chin, and then, without any warning, it stopped. Not a drop more came out of the pipes.
What the hell? Hunter and Garcia looked at each other for a second and then back at the screen. Surprise etched on both their faces.
It was a goddamn hoax, Garcia said, approaching Hunter. A nervous smile on his face. Some nutcase pulling our chain.
Hunter wasnt so sure.
At that exact moment the phone on Hunters desk rang again.
Six
The sound of the phone ringing cut through the silence like thunder ripping through a night sky.
You are very clever, Detective Hunter, the caller said.
Hunter quickly signaled Garcia one more time, and within seconds the call was being recorded again.
You almost had me fooled, the caller carried on. I thought your concern for the victim was quite touching. Once you realized there was no way you could save him, you picked what seemed to be the less sadistic, less painful and quicker death of the two choices I gave you. But that was only half of the story, wasnt it?
Garcia looked confused.
Hunter said nothing.
I figured out the hidden reason behind your choice, Detective.
No reply.
You realized I was about to pick fire, and you quickly interrupted me and chose water. A self-assured laugh. Water wouldve given you hope, right?
Hope? Garcia mouthed the word, frowning at Hunter.
The hope that when, and if, you come across the body, maybe your the caller put on a silly voice super-advanced, high-tech forensics lab could uncover something. Maybe on his skin, or hair, or a trace of something under his nails or inside his mouth. Who knows what microscopic clues I might have left behind, isnt that right, Detective Hunter? But fire wouldve destroyed it all. It wouldve carbonized his entire body and everything else with it. No clues left, microscopic or not.
Garcia hadnt thought of that.
But if he drowns, the body is intact. The caller moved on. Death comes from suffocation . . . skin, hair, nails . . . nothing gets destroyed. Its all there ready to be analyzed. The caller paused for breath. There might be a million things to find. Even the water in his lungs could provide you with some sort of clue. Thats why you chose water, isnt it, Detective? If you cant save him, do the next best thing. The caller let