“Morning..good morning..”, he came in with an enthusiastic smile. I was on my bed. I greeted him back and I got up.
“Ah..wait. Hear this.” He stopped me and began exactly like the Police officer wrote down..
We were eight of us heading to the Governer’s house at the hill top. Yesterday, by 18:20 we had a breaking notification at the online public chat room. It was a link to a website having a half page 18 sized font text and a video followed by.
“Hello World! Isaac Meltonhlm crime, u already might hav hrd of, is nw solvd by tis. It is th Govrnr of Null-Island who is Isaac Meltonhlm. To those who havn’t hrd of the crime: There ws a huge fund of abt 10 hundred transfered frm th treasury of th Island to an account referng to Mr. Meltonholm and an amount of 25 lakh missng too. On investigation by th agencies, th transfer ws found to be authenticated and verified. But none of th officials did th transfr frm the offic whch is justified by th 24*7 server screen footprints. Bt th systm logs has evidence of the transfr… Mystery!
Th only person who had access to the servers and office was the Governr aftr the Administrators. I chkd the all admin’s logs and personal systems. All clean. Here attachd is a pdf of those data. Again, the rest is our Governr. But the problm is that he ws abroad for three weeks before and one week aftr the incident. So what?”
There was a screen shot attached below it.
“This is the call logs of the Governr frm his Internatnl Num to his phone here in the Island at the Blue Hill Residence. 17 times the same call and on the same day of th attck. Makes th design clear?
Next, at th bank servr. The account of Isaac Meltonholm ws creatd jst th same day th transfer was done. All during th timespan of those 17 calls. Frm th communictn logs and the DNS, the locatn of th intruder was simple to find- Blue Hill.”
The video was all about him collecting thise traces. There was a brilliant question and an answer came on the chat room:
-How did you get these?
By this time, I finished my brushing. I was lazy to those Police stories. But he wanted someone to talk to, just to hear not to listen.
We reached the Blue Hill Residence. A pretty white perfect square building. An isolated area. My colleague pulled open the door, something different from the normal ones. The handles were polished with dust, for no access for more than three months. It was dark inside, the power supply was freesed for there was no one here. It was a narrow space between two walls. Someone opened the door, again I noticed the difference: the doors opened in.
The lights came in. To the front was another door, to the left, an open space, it was a living room with two sofa sets perpendicular to each other and a glass table at the center. Few crumbled papers and a pen open. To the right was another door to a bed room. A bed to the front, a work desk and a shelf. It had an attached bathroom. Water was dripping from the shower. I moved back to the kitchen to the front of the living room. Two work areas, the electric chimney was beautifully arranged. The vessels didn’t seem to be much older to have used. There was another room right to the kitchen. Before I went up to there, there was a call from Tony. I walked back to the living room and he was coming from the kitchen.
“There was someone here last day”, he commented. “Look..”, he pointed to the left of a sofa, “the dust over this region is almost null compared to the rest of space and it is pushed down too. Pretty due to a continuous weight placed on it, to our context, our hacker was sitting here. He used a pen and it was left open, but still ink on the nib is not dried yet”, he slowly rubbed the pen tip on his hand towel. “There were a few thing varying in weight placed on this table.”, he drew lines showing the margins of shades of dust. “Also..”, that was quick, ” the water found at the bottom of the the steel kettle. Means, our man was here till late night for the time now is 7.00. Lucky that we aren’t late.”
Wow..that was great. I was on to make a comment…
“Sir..got a USB adapter down here”, Mathews, my co-worker, said.
It was with a brilliant look Tony bought it and examined. “Fantastic. It narrows down things. So, now we are sure about it. This is usually used for extending the USB ports in cafes. For now, he used it to extend the net setter because there is no signal here in this room”, he examined his phone too. “So he was using Internet, justifying the statements of the cyber cell that those notifications uploaded was from this location and also the domain to which he hosted the website was booked from here. Perfect.”
“But how did he get in here?”, I asked.
“And he most probably was having a laptop placed here and a power backup here”, he said pointing to locations on the table without answering my question. “Ah.. thats is a question Sir..”
“That is not possible because the entrance to this domain is police checked and as per their report, no one got in. And who can evade those cameras..?”, questions came in. Why did he sit at the same table where there was no signal. Why didn’t he sit somewhere else? But his statements were the most logical and they took the most of probability.
There was a loud sound, almost 13 minutes from the discussion, Tony kick moved the closet and flush broke. The current problem was solved, the way he entered is now clear for down the closet was an opening to a manhole.
I unfolded the newspaper. The headline announced the arest of Governer. I was not able to read to for he pulled it away from me. Now, he wanted me to listen. He made it little fast. No much details..
We went down to the manhole, walked..no much scope of evidence was down there. We reached Bellstreet. There were no biometrical traces we were able to find. Finally we called out for some known hackers, programmers and system security engineers in that area over a radius of 43Km. Eighteen appeared. Two were made to stay. They were peculiar. Investigated them.
First one, name was Logan Andreson. Working as an ethical hacker. Six certifications in networking. No blacklists. Dear to parents and bosses. Living in Whitemall 41Km away from Bellstreet. Was attending a full day conference on the day of attack and reached home at 17.00 and left soon. Day before was off for him and was with the family, as his wife said. To the officers, he had a dirt filled black jacket and a dirty shoes found down the ware house. He possess two net setters, three SIM cards, three laptops, two USBs one booted with Tail’s OS and a wide list of VPNs downloaded. His logs were cleared and he made a software specially for it, as he said. He is fast rider and showed no trace of microexpressions, or being lied when being questioned.
The second one, his name was Rin Billson. A computer nerd and a social activist, as his friends reported. Be had been given penalties for cracking into college networks and cafes. His workspace was cyber space and is a freelancer graded five stars. Digital evudences were foujd for him travelling to Bill street and his SIM card using Internet was traced near the Hills. He had a pair gloves in his car, which was not found to be used ofte
He paused. “What do you say?”, he asked. What should I say? “Who is that hacker?”, his question was now clear. But I was not clever.