Читать книгу Murder in the first life - Dirk Lützelberger - Страница 13

It was late when Mark’s acquaintances finally logged on. He had waited two hours, making small talk. This time it had been nothing more than aimless talk that was of no use to anyone, Mark resented. They just wasted his time. Suddenly all three logged in at the same time. Mark looked at his watch. It was already 10:47 pm. The 'Daily News' on TV had probably just ended. Mark grinned inside himself.

He used to spend a lot of time in front of the television and consumed for hours the same old stories. Today the Internet was his favourite pastime. If there was one thing Mark had learned from the Internet, it was that while it was helpful and useful in many cases, it was also the biggest waste of time he could imagine.

On the other hand, it was very varied, and you had it in your own hands where it took you. SecondLife had become Mark’s favourite companion in the late evening hours. Here he always met interesting people and it challenged him to find out their most intimate secrets. Especially if they did not want to reveal them.

After the avatars of his acquaintances had finally synthesized themselves in the virtual world, they could chat with each other.

[Priscilla]: Hello, my lady, good evening.

[Hangim Hi]: Howdy.

[Darkwing]: Hello.

[Miss Gore]: Well, it’s about time you guys showed up.

[Priscilla]: Please excuse, mistress, but the RL was very busy today.

’RL', that stood for 'Real Life'. Priscilla was no newcomer in these circles, Mark realized that again and again and he thought about how to get the missing information out of him. First of all, he needed less listeners, so he switched to private mode with Priscilla.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Nice to see you, was it busy in your branch again?

[(p) Priscilla]: I can tell you. I even had to pick up a package after work tonight.

This could be an interesting starting point, Mark thought.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Is the post office still open this late?

[(p) Priscilla]: No, mistress, I had it sent to my packing station.

[(p) Miss Gore]: Yes, this is indeed a good facility. Open day and night.

How convenient for me, Mark made a mental note, and how convenient for you, my dear Priscilla. Now Mark had almost everything he needed. His plan emerged like a puzzle in his mind. He went through the pieces one more time. Sven was male, married and lived in a single-family house, whose address he had reconstructed from the geo-coordinates of the photo. Today he had picked up a parcel from a nearby packing station. With a bit of luck, Sven would not remove his address label on the package when he threw the box into the wastepaper bin. There was still a tiny piece of the puzzle in front of Mark before he could put his plan into action. He was excited, like a little boy. Unfortunately, there were too many packing stations around Sven’s home, and he still needed the necessary postal number to send a fake parcel to Sven himself. He would probably have to visit Sven’s home in the next few days to do so. While he sat there and stared at the screen, he didn’t even notice that the conversation had continued. Hastily he turned the pages back in order not to miss anything important. He had to be careful now as he was chatting with Priscilla in private mode as well as talking to the other two in public. He was not allowed to get confused with the different windows in which the conversations took place.

[(p) Priscilla]: … and you can get to it anytime.

[(p) Priscilla]: Hello, mistress, are you still there?

[(p) Priscilla]: Hello?

[Priscilla]: Hello, you two. Miss Gore seems to have just disappeared from the keyboard. How you doing?

[Hangim Hi]: All bullshit!

[Darkwing]: So-so.

[Priscilla]: Why does everything suck?

[Hangim Hi]: Oh, the work, the woman, everyone is against me!

[Darkwing]: Can we cheer you up?

[Priscilla]: Yeah, you want to role-play?

[Hangim Hi]: Hmm, I don’t know.

[Priscilla]: What turns you on?

[Darkwing]: What are you into?

[Hangim Hi]: No, don’t bother. It’s nice of you, but I don’t feel like playing today. Maybe some other time. Then I’d like to play the harder version as well.

[Priscilla]: Okay. I got an early day tomorrow. I’ll say goodbye. See you.

[Darkwing]: Good night!

[Hangim Hi]: Night!

Priscilla’s avatar disintegrated, which was a sign that the player had left the game.

[Darkwing]: What would be 'harder' with you?

[Hangim Hi]: When we first met, you already had the right instinct for it … and you should read my profile.

Jens alias Darkwing was good at programming computers, but he was reluctant to read instructions or even profiles. He preferred to get right into the action. Things would develop. That was always the case. No need to study manuals or profiles. But now Jens made an exception. The profile was public and accessible to everyone. As he read, it almost took his breath away. The fantasies described here resembled his own. Obviously Hangim Hi was looking for the thrill of being hung up. This is where Miss Gore hit the mark a few days ago when she asked him if he wanted to dangle from the next tree. But Hangim Hi also told every reader that he would sometimes live out his dominant side. He was a 'switcher'.

[Darkwing]: Excuse me. Okay, caught up reading your profile. All right, I understand you better now. Maybe we can grant your wish next time you’re bad enough.

[Hangim Hi]: Yes, maybe. I have to go to sleep too. Good night.

[Darkwing]: Good night.

Also, the Avatar of Hangim Hi dissolved into nothing.

When Mark had read everything, he realized that he was alone with Darkwing.

[Miss Gore]: I’m sure you remember what we talked about a few days ago?

[Darkwing]: No, Miss, what do you mean?

[Miss Gore]: Don’t be stupid. Did you go back to your hookers and maybe take a picture already? I want a proof of your devotion!

[Darkwing]: No Miss, excuse me, I remember what you mean.

[Miss Gore]: It’s about time!

[Darkwing]: Yes, Miss, you’re right. No, I haven’t been to see any of my friends again. I’ve been celibate, too. Just like you asked. And I don’t know what kind of photo you want me to take.

All the other players had already signed out, and Mark should also stop slowly and go to sleep. The next days would be exhausting enough. He also wanted to stall Darkwing a bit, because that way he would be more receptive to what he was asking of him.

[Miss Gore]: I have to go. Be good and don’t touch yourself until I get the photo.

[Darkwing]: Of course, Miss, but what kind of photo is this?

He would get the answer in a few days, thought Mark and signed off without saying goodbye. His avatar disintegrated and the screen went black.

Mark thought about what happened to Kay in his cage as he shut down the computer.