Daemon

and gripped his head in mute amazement. His eyes quickly returned to the screen.
    Boerner took another drag on his cigarette. ‘Are you a brain-dead punk’ – he motioned to the text centered in the sunlight on the wall—’or do you haf useful knowledge, yes? If you do,use your key, and ve vill meet again.’ He clenched his teeth on the cigarette filter, smiled darkly, then turned and walked away – laughing his (literally) trademark evil laugh. It echoed in the halls.
    Gragg watched him go, then turned to face the writing on the wall again. He hit a key combination for the in-game camera to snap a screen capture.
    The moment he did so, he was ejected from the game. The Houston Monte Cassino server never appeared in the public listings again.

Chapter 10:// In the Air
    Ross leaned against Sebeck’s unmarked police cruiser. It was parked on the shoulder of Potrero Road. ‘Do you need directions to Woodland Hills, Sergeant?’
    ‘Just a brief detour.’
    ‘What is this, the first murder scene?’
    ‘Down that dirt road.’ Sebeck pointed back at the closed steel gate. He stood in front of the steel winch box. A police warning tag hung from the winch housing.
    Sebeck noticed that the steel cable was coiled on the ground beyond the chain-link fence, stretching out of sight downhill. The county probably lowered it to avoid any additional accidents. ‘Hang on a sec.’ Sebeck keyed a handheld radio. ‘Unit 992, this is D-19, over.’ Sebeck looked to Ross again. ‘We have a patrol unit guarding the murder scene down below.’
    A voice crackled over the radio,
‘Unit 992, over.’
    ‘I’m at your 20. I need to raise this cable. Is the area clear down there? Over.’
    ‘Ten-four. Area clear, D-19. Over.’
    ‘Stand by. Out.’
    Sebeck clipped the radio onto his belt under his sports coat. He produced a ziplock bag from his pocket and unrolled it. It contained keys and a remote control. He removed the keys and flipped through them. He used one to unlock the winch housing. He flipped open the door, then searched for the key to the winch. He inserted the key and turned it in the lock.
    The winch motor kicked to life, grinding like a powerful can opener. Sebeck leaned around the side of the winch housing to check the progress of the cable. It wasn’t budging.
    Ross looked on from his position at the car. ‘You turning it the right way?’
    Sebeck stopped it. He pointed to the arrows next to the lock. ‘It says ‘In.’ I’m turning it to ‘In.’ This is ‘Out.”
    He cranked it the other way. The winch paid out a small bit of cable before clicking to a stop. ‘See? That’s ‘Out.”
    Sebeck cranked it the other way again. The motor ran, but it didn’t even retrieve the small amount he had just paid out. The winch mechanism would not engage even though the motor was running. He stopped it and pulled the key out.
    ‘That’s strange. Although, now that I think about it, the handyman said the cable didn’t come out of the ground when he ran the winch.’
    Ross looked puzzled. ‘The cable was in the ground?’
    ‘Yeah. It was buried in the ground, and the handyman got a faked e-mail from the management company to come over and run the winch.’
    Ross came up alongside and studied the winch housing. ‘If running the winch doesn’t do anything, why bother to send a spoofed e-mail to have someone run it?’
    ‘It is strange. The FBI lab will probably take it apart.’ Sebeck pulled out a pad and pen. He started writing down brand, model, and serial numbers for the winch. ‘Any writing on that side?’
    Ross shook his head.
    In a moment they were done, and Sebeck put his pad away. ‘I want to take another look at the murder scene while I’m here. It’ll only be a few minutes.’ They returned to the cruiser. Before getting back into the car, Sebeck pulled the remote control from the ziplock bag and pointed it at the gate. He clicked it.
    The gate squeaked once, then started swinging open. Another, familiar sound came to Sebeck’s ears, and he cocked his head to listen closely. Ross’s hand slapped across his chest, startling him. He glared at Ross, who was pointing. Sebeck followed his finger.
    The winch was running, pulling the steel cable taut.
    It took the final clang of the gate stopping to rouse them from their stunned silence. The cable was as taut as a piano wire.
    Sebeck looked at Ross.
    Ross pointed at the remote. ‘Whose remote is that?’
    Sebeck looked down at it. Then nodded