Chapter 47

CHRISTOPHER

‘Are you ready?’ Amy shouted up the stairs to Christopher.

‘Yes, just give me a moment,’ he replied from his office, where he was looking at the chart on his computer screen to double check where Number Thirteen was. He was happy to find that she’d stuck to her schedule and was exactly where she was supposed to be. He liked it when they were creatures of habit, as it made his job that much easier.

Faceless contacts and downloadable programmes and software buried deep on the dark net provided him with the means to learn everything he needed to know about the women he targeted and more, and it all began with a mobile phone number. That would lead to a name, age, address, occupation, medical history and employment records. He could determine almost anything from their blood types to what they’d last purchased on eBay. Their lives were no longer their own to live and Christopher would be the one to determine how much time they had left.

Early on, he was aware secrecy and anonymity would be the key to his success. On the off-chance Amy might use his computer without asking, she’d only have access to a guest profile he had set up in her name. His own profile had a password cipher programme he’d been assured would take months to crack by even some of the most experienced individuals.

A virtual private network made sure that Christopher’s IP number, his computer’s unique identifier, was buried at all times. He ran all his online data via an encrypted virtual tunnel that stopped all websites from tracking his online activity. Each email he sent and received went through a programme that encrypted and decrypted, and he used unlimited aliases and disposable addresses to register with UFlirt, the only app installed on each of his dozens of phones.

It was the Tor network that allowed him to access the deep web, where millions of websites and pages were created anonymously and individuals communicated privately. Even for Christopher, it was an eye opener as anything from drugs to firearms and paedophile pornography were available to purchase for the right price. It was there where he’d bought a job lot of smart phones for a fraction of British prices using darkcoins, a more discreet version of bitcoins.

Then he had the phones couriered from somewhere in Eastern Europe to a PO Box he’d set up in London.

‘Chris!’ Amy shouted again. ‘Come on, we’re going to be late!’ He narrowed his eyes; he loathed the abbreviation of his name, but she was using it more and more.

By the time the couple found a parking space two streets away from the restaurant in Bow, they were ten minutes late. And while not being on time for an allotted appointment often made Christopher irritable, it didn’t matter so much if Amy was with him.

‘This menu looks lovely,’ she said, flicking through the pages of the leather-bound book. She smiled at Christopher and he felt his stomach perform somersaults. He smiled back at her and meant it.

‘It earned superb reviews in the Guardian’s Weekend magazine,’

Christopher replied. ‘That’s why I suggested it.’

He began to feel anxious and his muscles were tense, but he disguised it from Amy. Tonight was going to be the most important night of their relationship and he’d managed to keep his preparations under the radar. He had booked the right table in exactly the right spot and now all he had to do was to wait for that special moment.

As they glanced over the list of traditional British foods with a modern twist, their waitress appeared with bottled water and glasses.

‘What would you recommend?’ Christopher asked politely. His mouth was dry so he took a large gulp of his water. He wasn’t listening when she read from the specials board, although he picked up on something about a toad in the hole with chilli spiced sausages and ham hock soup. He was more interested in focusing on the silver hoop in her pierced septum and how much pain she’d be in if he ripped it out.

He liked the way a dimple appeared when the waitress laughed, as Amy made a joke about a courgette dish with a name prone to innuendo, and how she tucked her short, dark hair behind her ears and cocked her head to one side like a dog as she listened.

It was the first time Christopher had ever permitted his two worlds to collide. The light with the dark, the sun with the shade, his girlfriend with Number Thirteen.