Minnesota

Dark Web

Constantina stared out the window, mulling. You could just walk away. She laughed dryly. You know Mark is part of this, you can’t prove it and you think you can walk away from this? Truth was, she couldn’t walk away. Not until she knew for sure that no one knew what she had done.

            She stalked toward the table, grabbed her disposable phone, purchased in Regina Praeda’s name, and entered his phone number from memory. She hit the dial button.

Gabriel answered immediately. “Yes.” A gloomy voice said.

“It’s Connie.”

The gloomy voice became cheerful. “Using a burner phone, way to go, girl.” He laughed and the sound of it sent her back to the first time they met ten years ago. They both attended computer science classes at a local community college. She because she was bored with her job, her life, because her kids had begun needing her less and less. He because, at sixteen years of age, tried desperately to get as much time outside of his foster home as possible. Yet another person in your life that experienced abuse, neglect. And you still think humanity is good?

They hit it off immediately. Gabriel was the youngest in the class and she the oldest. And they competed for best grades. It was a tie.

Their competing spirit died down, but their friendship grew. She got him a job at the financial advisor firm she and Lance worked at. She showed him how to bargain hunt for clothes and how to budget money. He was her third child. And you were his only mother.

“I’ve been following your online stuff, the crowdfunding for that girl. The one that had the alleged accident?”

Constantina laughed. Gabriel had an eye for details. For Nena’s sake, they had fidgeted the truth and the online account of the incident was labeled an ‘accident’.

Any hesitation she had in making him part of this faded. “I need to get some information that can only be found on the dark web. It has to do with illegal porn, or more accurately, those that provide them. I know there are multiple stairways, I don’t know where to start and since you’ve been doing some pro-bono work for law enforcement, I thought …”

She heard Gabriel typing as she explained the situation.

“On the condition that you don’t advertise that I’m spying for the Overlords, or I’ll be done with the digital wet-work crowd. Got a name, a location, anything or are we fishing the dark waters on a whim?”

“Both. I’m interested in a family, last name Praeda, they own Praeda Investments Inc. I’m particularity interested in Regina and Mark, same last name. I’m also wondering if there’s a way to find out if a recorded rape was posted to the dark web.”

Connie stared out the window, phone at her ear, not listening to her friend speak, but type. Creative people lose touch with reality when they’re doing their thing. She could picture him, his slender built, sitting straight in his ergonomic chair, probably the third one in as many years he’s used up from excessive sitting. His shoulder-length, dark-blond hair tight into a sloppy ponytail, untrimmed bangs hanging over his brown eyes, tickling his cheeks while his long, elegant fingers race across the keyboard. With hands and fingers like his, he could be a killer piano player. It wasn’t the first time she thought that.

“Give me a minute to run the names. As to your second request, I’d need a picture, something I can scan and run comparisons.” He paused. “Uh …” Thousands of miles of distance between them couldn’t hide the surprise in this one little word as the air escaped his mouth.

“Gabriel, what is it?”

“Connie, how the hell did you stumble into this?” His voice broke.

            The phone remained silent, and she was about to ask again when he said: “Guess I shouldn’t bitch about you asking me to delve into the DW after spending years of accumulating a reputation for doing so.” He sighed. “Connie, are you sure you want to hear this?”

            She thought she was. She was wrong.

His voice became more monotone as he read off a list of things he found. “Praeda Inc. Investment, established in 1979 by a Gerald Praeda, within two years turned it into a multi-million, international, company, focusing on precious stones, hedge funds and investments. He died prematurely in 1990, allegedly a heart condition. Only listed surviving family is his son, Mark, and Gerald’s sister, Regina, CEO and Owner. The company went public in 2000. Mark has accommodations for best investment advisor, several years running. Regina is the public face, attends fundraisers, opening of new branch offices etc.”

            Connie stretched, got up and walked around the room. The clock told her it was five minutes to midnight. Nena's soft snoring carried through the closed bedroom door.

            Gabriel continued. “Praeda Inc. holds several companies in subsidiaries, …” He rattled off a list of six company names, then stopped.

“Gabriel?”

He cleared his throat. “The last name on the list is PNW Holdings in Seattle.” It took a moment for Connie to realize what he was saying.

“Well, that’s normal, it’s how I meet Regina years ago. They hired Lance for some specialty purchases …”

Gabriel interrupted her. “No, you don’t understand. They own forty percent of PNW Holdings, have been for over ten years.”

A moan escaped her as she fell into the chair behind her. “But we would have known if such a large buy-out …”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” She heard Gabriel typing frantically. “Because it wasn’t a large buy-out. I’m seeing forty different buyers purchased 40% over a three-year period. Then they were sold again within a year to a subsidiary of Praeda Inc.”

Connie rubbed her forehead. “How do you know that? It’s not like shares are marked like paper money.”

Gabriel laughed. “They don’t have to be. All you have to do is add up the percentage until you get to 100%.” 

            Connie stared out the window, her foot tapping the thick carpet. The streets below where dark and quiet. Only the occasional car drove by. There’s no way Lance knew of this.

            Gabriel found otherwise. “Did you know that Lance owns 5% of Praeda Inc.?” She heaved.

            “It would have been revealed in the divorce …” She stammered. Gabriel cleared his throat.

            “You need to realize what I’m looking at is off-the-grid information, it’s summarized through various searches on names, locations etc. I could be wrong, but I doubt it.

            “The dark web is sub-categorized; since tracing isn’t an issue, I can enter any query and it’ll come up with everything.” Gabriel kept typing as he spoke. “I put in a name, type in a subject like ‘money’ or ‘sex’ and …” Everything went silent at once.

            “Gabe?” Connie asked.

            “Shit.” He cleared his throat. “Connie, how do you know that family? Are you involved with them?” His voice was a pitch higher than usual.

            Connie sat up straight, alert. “I need what you found.” She urged, sensing whatever Gabriel found would get her closer to her goal.

            “This is not proof. You can’t take this to the police.” Gabriel whispered.

            Connie nodded. She had no interest of taking any of this to the police. “What is it?”

            Gabriel sighed. “The way this works is that handles are the hallmark, so folks tend to keep them, use them as a reference. When I typed in Mark’s name, a few handles keep coming up. One from years ago that led to sex videos.” He paused. “Connie, this guy tapes himself raping women and posts it on the dark web.”

            Connie swallowed, the taste of bile coming up.

            Gabriel moaned. “He’s bragging about accidentally killing women and what to do with their bodies.” Connie heard a clicking sound. “OMG, he’s writing a blog on how best to dispose of human remains.” He sighed. “I can’t watch this.” Gabriel whispered. “Connie, is this what happened to your friend? Is this what you’re looking for?”

            Connie stared into the night as she listened to him. “We’re not sure Mark has anything to do with it. He was friends with the guy who did rape Nena. And she remembers two guys. And a camera; so, yes, I’m worried that it was posted. Is there any way to find out? Without you having to watch?” She swallowed hard, then asked the tough question. “The police don’t know who killed the guy, they’re wondering if maybe Nena did it. If someone posted this, could you find it?”

            Gabriel coughed. “Seriously? She killed him in self-defense? Awesome.” He cleared his throat. “As I said, if you can get me her picture, a frontal, biometric type, that would make it the fastest. I’ll scan it and run a program, both for rape and murder, just to cover all of it.” He cleared his throat. “I can’t believe humans can do this to other humans.”

            Her hand felt cold, Gabriel’s voice sounded clouded, far away. “There’s a difference between humans and human beings.” She heard herself say.

Then, she felt vomit rising. “Gabriel, I’ll have to call you back.” She hung up and ran into the bathroom.

Constantina dry-heaved into the toilet bowl. After thirty minutes, the need to purge her stomach finally subsided.

            With shaking hands, wobbling legs, she managed to pull herself up toward the sink. She let the cold water run over her hands before reaching for the toothbrush and paste. She avoided the mirror above the sink because she didn’t think she could stand to look at her reflection. She felt soiled, perverted. As if her soul somehow had been stained, not only by the existence of such evil, but by the proximity to her own life. For years, it was so close, yet, she had no idea, what-so-ever.

            Someone is going to pay for this.

**

Her eyes wandered and she watched pedestrians crossing the street. Most with cell phones pressed against their ears. And what better way to know someone’s whereabouts 24/7 than their phone? How often had Gabriel lectured her on the importance of tech-hygiene? And how many people actually practiced it?

Constantina Morrigan knew how to get her hands on a dark mode version of the tracking software she installed on Nena’s phone.

She reached for the disposable phone and texted Gabriel. ‘I need dark mode tracking tech.’ She expected Gabriel to reiterate his warning about this family, maybe even refuse to help her.  

‘I wish you wouldn’t do this.’ He replied.

‘I owe it to her and the other women he hurt. If not me, then who? And who better to guide me through this than you?’ She asked him. The next time her phone beeped with an incoming message, it wasn’t Gabriel attempting to deter her.

“Oh, Gabriel, you really are my little angel.” She murmured as she saw the link he sent.

The corners of Constantina's mouth stretched, revealing her teeth. It was the smile of a hungry predator that spotted its next meal. Her stomach growled.