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none of it muscle. He was in his forties, with curly fair hair, a plump face made heavier by a double chin, and a thin mustache that looked more like peach fuzz.
    ‘I mean,’ she said. ‘I know that nowadays CGI technology can make anything look real. Can we be sure that this whole thing isn’t just digital and camera trickery?’
    Baxter shrugged.
    ‘Well, you’re the head of the Computer Crimes Unit.’ The captain’s voice went hard. ‘Tell me something.’
    Baxter tilted his head to one side. ‘I just captured the whole thing moments ago after getting a call from Detective Hunter. I haven’t really had time to analyze it, but at first look and on gut feeling – it’s real.’
    The captain ran a hand through her long jet-black hair before allowing her stare to return to Hunter and Garcia.
    ‘Too complex and bold to be just a hoax,’ Hunter said. ‘Operations couldn’t trace the call. The caller was bouncing it around town every five seconds.’ He gestured to Baxter. ‘Dennis said that the Internet transmission came from Taiwan.’
    ‘What?’ Captain Blake faced Baxter again.
    ‘It’s true. What we had was an IP address, which is a unique identifying number given to every single computer on the Internet. With that, we can easily pinpoint the host computer. The IP address used was assigned to a server in Taiwan.’
    ‘How can that be?’
    ‘Easy. The Internet makes the world a global market. For example, if you want to set up a website, there is no law that tells you that you have to host it in America. You can search the net for the best deal, and have your website sitting in a server absolutely anywhere – Russia, Vietnam, Taiwan, Afghanistan . . . it makes no difference. Everybody can access it just the same.’
    Captain Blake thought about it for a second. ‘No diplomatic relations,’ she said. ‘Not only does the United States have no jurisdiction, but even a diplomatic approach, such as calling the server company and asking for their help, would fail.’
    ‘That’s right. He could’ve also hijacked the IP address,’ Baxter added. ‘It’s like stealing number plates from a car and putting them on yours to avoid being caught.’
    ‘Can that be done?’ Captain Blake asked.
    ‘If he’s good enough, sure.’
    ‘So we’ve got nothing?’
    Baxter shook his head. ‘Though I have to admit that we’re limited in what we can do at the Computer Crimes Unit.’ He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his round nose. ‘Our investigations are usually restricted to crimes committed using computer-stored information, or sabotage to computer-stored information. In other words, database and information hacking – from private individual computers to schools, banks and corporations. This kind of thing isn’t really what we deal with.’
    ‘Fantastic,’ the captain said, not impressed.
    ‘The FBI Cybercrime Division, on the other hand,’ Baxter said, moving on, ‘is a much more powerful unit. They deal with every kind of cybercrime. They even have the power and the equipment to terminate any internet transmission made from within the US territory from their office.’
    Captain Blake pulled a face. ‘So you’re saying that we should get the FBI involved?’
    It was no secret that the FBI and any police force in any American state didn’t have the best of relations, no matter what politicians and heads of departments said.
    ‘Not really,’ Baxter replied. ‘I was just stating a fact. There’s nothing the FBI can do now. The transmission is over. The site is dead. Let me show you.’ He pointed to the computer on her desk. ‘May I?’
    ‘Go right ahead.’ Captain Blake pushed her chair back a couple of feet.
    Baxter leaned over the captain’s keyboard, typed the IP address into the Internet browser’s address bar and hit the ‘enter’ key. It took only a few seconds for a web page to load: ERROR 404 – PAGE CANNOT BE FOUND.
    ‘The site isn’t there anymore,’ Baxter