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    The E-Mail Mystery

    Page 7
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      files on floppy disk, but opened each one as she copied

      it, reading through the material that was on the

      computer screen. Nothing indicated what might have

      been transmitted to Williams & Brown in the strange

      E-mail on the settled cases.

      Nancy decided to call up the E-mail log file that she

      had printed out to show Bess, and look it over one

      more time. Maybe she should look at the office

      handbook on their E-mail program and see if it gave

      instructions on how to trace E-mail more precisely.

      Nancy looked through the subdirectory where all

      the files on that case were still stored, but she couldn't

      find the log file anywhere.

      Nancy's eyes opened wide as she scrolled down the

      screen. The E-mail list was missing!

      9. The Vanishing File

      “This is serious,” Nancy whispered. Had someone

      discovered her snooping and tried to cover his or her

      tracks? She went through the directories again to make

      sure she hadn't missed the file. It was nowhere to be

      found. Clearly, someone had erased it from the hard

      drive, hoping to destroy the evidence.

      Oh, no, Nancy thought. Bess had said a computer

      expert would need the original file to find out who sent

      it, and whether it was sent from inside the office or

      accessed from outside.

      Nancy started to shuffle through the box of floppy

      disks she used to copy the files from the hard drive.

      Had she made a backup of the log file when she was

      copying files yesterday?

      Nancy looked at the pile of disks in front of her and

      groaned. They were only labeled with the case names,

      not the individual files she had copied. One by one, she

      began feeding them into the disk drive, calling up the

      directories, and reading them slowly. Nothing.

      Nothing. Nothing . . .

      “Yes!” Nancy said aloud. “I've got it.” Fortunately,

      when she printed out the list to show to Bess, she had

      made a backup copy of it on a floppy. Now she made a

      second backup to be sure she wouldn't lose it.

      But who erased the original file from the hard drive?

      she asked herself. And why? Someone must have

      figured out that I'm onto them. Now I'm sure it's

      someone in the office . . . unless someone could erase a

      file over the phone lines, too. I've got to check with

      Bess and hope she's found us an on-line expert!

      At the end of the day Nancy explained to her father

      that she would be staying late. “Bess is going to show

      me some things about the Internet,” she said. “Not

      business, just personal stuff. I hope that's okay.”

      “Of course, that's fine. It's after office hours

      anyway,” her father said, putting on his coat. “We pay a

      monthly fee for our Internet link, so it doesn't matter

      how much we use it.”

      “Is anybody else working late tonight?” Nancy asked.

      “I don't think so,” her father replied. “Blaine and I

      both have early court dates tomorrow. You and Bess

      will have to lock up. And be cautious, Nancy. I've read

      a few articles about the Internet. I don't want a virus to

      get into our computer, or have some weirdo track you

      girls down.”

      “Thanks for your concern, Dad,” Nancy said. “But

      don't worry. Bess told me all about how to be careful

      on-line.” Nancy smiled. “Besides, I wouldn't give

      anyone our home address or telephone number,

      anyway—on-line or off-line.”

      Nancy decided not to tell him about her phone calls

      to the clients who had settled. He was too tired, and he

      was concerned about his court appearance the next

      day.

      Nancy walked her father out to the elevator. The car

      arrived and the door opened to reveal Bess. Mr. Drew

      gave Bess a quick hug hello. “Have fun, you two,” he

      said, entering the car and pressing the button to go

      down.

      “Hi, Nancy,” Bess said, shrugging off her light

      jacket. “Let's go!”

      “First, let's lock the office door and turn out the

      lights in the reception area,” Nancy said. “We're all

      alone here tonight.” She went to the electronic lock

      panel located next to the heavy double glass doors that

      separated the reception area from the elevator lobby,

      and pressed a code on the computer keypad. Then she

      flicked the wall switch, and Bess murmured, “It's kind

      of spooky in here.”

      All the office doors in the hallway were closed. The

      two girls entered the library, where Nancy had left the

      computer on. The room was dark except for the small

      halogen lamp at the computer station, which cast a

      brilliant circle of light on the table. “Bess, I didn't want

      to say anything in front of my dad, but someone erased

      that E-mail log file from the hard drive.”

      “What?” Bess exclaimed. “Then how can we find out

      who transmitted that E-mail? The printout is helpful,

      but I'm sure a computer expert will need the file itself

      to be able to do any sophisticated tracking.”

      “Well, the good news is I made a backup of the file

      on a floppy disk. I hope whatever transmission

      information we need will be on there.”

      Nancy showed her the disk. “And I made a backup

      of the backup when I discovered the original was

      missing!”

      “Smart girl,” Bess said. Bess settled down at the

      keyboard, and called up the Internet connection

      program.

      “I found something else today, too,” Nancy said,

      pulling out her copy of Henry's handwritten list that

      she had discovered in the copy machine. “Look at this.”

      “Who's got a list of all those settled cases?” Bess

      asked. “This is a real clue!”

      “It might be,” Nancy said. “It's in Henry Yi's

      handwriting. When I confronted him with it, he tried

      to make it look as though he just wanted something to

      talk to me about. When I asked my father if he'd

      spoken to Henry about the settled cases, he said no,

      and that Henry might keep track of dead cases so he

      knew what to clear off the computer. But I'm sure it's

      more than that.”

      “And Henry's supposed to be the computer whiz

      around here, right?” Bess said. “Let's change the

      screen name right now so no one will know who we are

      or where we're calling from. How about B and N, for

      Bess and Nancy?” she asked.

      “How about N and B, for Nancy and Bess?” said

      Nancy, joking. Bess grinned, and entered the screen

      name: B&N.

      Bess dialed out on the modem. The girls heard the

      whine of the computer dialing, and the click | telling

      them they were hooked in. Bess could hardly sit still as

      she waited to be connected.

      “I also called the clients on that list this afternoon,”

      Nancy went on. “Three of them wouldn't talk to me,

      but one of them implied that he had been threatened

      with information from this office, and forced to settle


      early.”

      “This is turning into a real mystery. Oh, Nancy—we

      got an answer,” Bess suddenly cried. “I checked the

      local computer users' group after my romance novel

      chat finished up last night. Someone had already left a

      reply to the posting we made asking for expert help,

      when we were at Art-Dot-Café last night!”

      “Why didn't you tell me right away?” Nancy asked

      excitedly.

      “I was so shocked when you told me the file was

      missing, I forgot,” Bess explained. “And I didn't want

      to call you late last night or bother you at the office

      today. I left the response in my mailbox so you could

      see it. Look!” Bess's fingers called up her on-line

      mailbox. Nancy read, “SEEK and Ye Shall FIND.

      Meet me in the IBC Computer Secrecy Chat Room

      tomorrow night after 8 P.M. I'll know you by the rose

      between your teeth.”

      “Now watch this,” Bess said, her fingers tapping

      away expertly. The girls watched as the screen

      welcomed them to the Computer Secrecy Chat Room

      and posted warnings not to give out their company or

      school's computer system, modem phone numbers, or

      other identifying information that could be used by

      computer pirates.

      “There must be a lot of experts here, or this

      information wouldn't be so dangerous,” Bess said. “I

      wouldn't know how to do anything with information

      like that.”

      “There must be a lot of crooks here, or this

      information wouldn't be so dangerous,” Nancy said.

      “Are you sure we want to meet this person, even on-

      line?”

      “We haven't said anything about your father's firm

      or who we are,” Bess said. “So we're safe. Let's get

      some basic information.”

      “How will we know who this guy is, anyway?” Nancy

      asked.

      “He said he'd know us by the rose between our

      teeth. Watch this.” Bess popped a floppy disk into the

      drive, called up a file, then pressed Transmit. Several

      lines scrolled automatically through the entry box, and

      appeared on the dialogue screen in an intricate pattern

      that looked like a flower.

      “Bess, that's fabulous!” Nancy cried. “You'll have to

      show me how you did that sometime,” Nancy said.

      “But right now we've got to find this computer expert.”

      Suddenly a small box appeared in the corner of their

      screen, reading “INSTANT MESSAGE FROM

      SEEK.”

      “What's that?” Nancy asked. “And who's SEEK?”

      “We're being IM'd,” Bess said. “Remember, in my

      message I said we were seeking help. I bet this guy is

      using that name so we'll know it's him. He must have

      recognized B and N by the rose between our teeth!”

      She smiled. “Let's see what his message says.”

      Bess clicked her computer mouse arrow on the box

      marked Read, and the following words appeared on the

      screen: “I knew you'd come, lovely rose. How can I be

      of help to you?”

      “This must be the guy who posted in my news-

      group,” Bess whispered. “He sounds kind of poetic.

      What should we tell him?”

      “Nothing specific,” Nancy cautioned. “I can't let

      anyone know someone may be stealing information

      from my dad's computer.”

      “Let's see,” Bess said. “How about this?” And she

      typed in the reply box: “Can you help us track E-mail

      activity?”

      Nancy and Bess waited a moment, and then SEEK's

      reply came through: “Of course I can. Where are you?”

      “Wait,” Nancy said. “You can't tell him that. He'll

      know the problem is in my dad's office. He can't tell

      where we're transmitting from right now, can he?”

      “No,” Bess said. “That's impossible. I changed our

      screen name to B and N before I logged on,

      remember?”

      “Okay,” Nancy said, “but we can't type sensitive

      information on-line, where anyone could read it.

      Maybe we could arrange to meet somewhere public,

      like a coffee shop?”

      “Great idea,” Bess said, typing away. “He has to be

      in the area, since I posted in a local newsgroup. Let's

      see if he's willing to get together in person.”

      She typed in her message: “Highly confidential

      problem. Cannot discuss on-line. Can we meet FTF

      IRL?”

      “FTF?” Nancy asked. “IRL? What does all that

      mean?”

      “On-line shorthand for face-to-face' and in real

      life,' ” Bess explained.

      The screen shifted again, and the girls read the

      incoming message: “The Cyber Space . . . 8 P.M. . . .

      tomorrow night . . . bring a rose . . . and your disk.”

      “The Cyber Space?” Nancy asked.

      “Oh, I've heard of it.” Bess nodded. “It's another

      computer coffeehouse, like Art-Dot-Café, but it's also a

      performance and poetry space. You know, where

      people read their poetry. It's in an old warehouse

      building, in kind of a deserted area right down by the

      docks, just a few blocks from where we were last

      night.”

      “Sounds good to me,” Nancy said. “Let's make a

      date.”

      Bess typed in: “Thank you, SEEK. 8 P.M. at The

      Cyber Space it is.”

      One final message came back: “ttfn—cul8r.”

      “Huh?” Nancy said. “What's that mean?”

      “T-t-f-n stands for ta-ta for now,' ” Bess explained.

      “Oh, I get the rest now. See you later,' ” Nancy said.

      “You're right, Bess. This on-line shorthand stuff is

      cool.”

      “All right, Nancy,” Bess said. “I hate to type and run,

      but I've got to get home for my nightly chat group.”

      “I know, I know,” Nancy said. “Romance novelists.

      Do you meet every night?”

      “Yup,” Bess said, logging off, taking out her disk and

      preparing to shut off the computer. “I wouldn't miss it

      for anything.”

      “You're in danger of becoming a computer geek,”

      Nancy teased her friend gently.

      “Perhaps,” Bess replied, tossing her hair over her

      shoulder. “But a romantic computer geek.”

      The two girls powered down the machine and

      turned off the desk lamp.

      “This was fun,” Nancy said in the darkness, heading

      for the library door. “You can show me more tomorrow

      night while we're waiting to meet SEEK at the Cyber

      Space.”

      Before Nancy could reach out to touch the handle,

      the door to the law office library swung open in the

      darkness!

      10. A Spy On-line

      “Who's there?” Nancy called out. She backed away

      quickly and felt around in the darkness for the desk

      lamp she'd just turned off.

      The overhead fluorescents came on, and Nancy and

      Bess blinked in the sudden light.

      “What are you doing here?” Blaine Warner asked

      angrily, her hand on the wall switch by the door. “You

      almost gave me a heart attack!”

      “Oh,
    Blaine, thank goodness it's you,” Nancy said. “I

      thought we were alone here tonight. How'd you get in?

      I locked the outside door.”

      “I was working on the computer in my office,”

      Blaine replied, “preparing some material for my court

      date tomorrow morning. And who's this?” she asked,

      eyeing Bess.

      “This is my friend Bess Marvin,” Nancy said.

      “Hi,” Bess said, covering her earlier fright and

      reaching out to shake hands with Blaine. “Nice to meet

      you. I was just showing Nancy some computer stuff.

      You've got a great setup here,” she added.

      “Indeed.” Blaine continued to stare at Bess. “Have

      we met? You look familiar.”

      “We saw you last night, when we were coming out of

      Art-Dot-Café,” Bess said cheerily. “Nancy, I've got to

      run. I don't want to miss my on-line chat group.”

      “Press the button to the right of the doors in the

      reception area to open the lock,” Nancy said to her

      friend.

      “Okay. See you, Nan.” Bess took off for the

      reception area, and Nancy could hear the click of the

      automatic locks as her friend exited the office. She

      started for the door of the library, but Blaine blocked

      her path.

      “Do you always invite friends up to the office?”

      Blaine asked Nancy, hands on her hips.

      “I told my father Bess would be here tonight,”

      Nancy said, a little annoyed at having to explain herself

      to Blaine. “In fact, I plan to ask him if she can come

      during the day to work on this file copying with me,”

      she added, thinking fast. “There's a lot of it to do, and

      as you said earlier, computer work can be very time-

      consuming, especially if you're careful and thorough.

      Bess is very skilled, and I could really use the help.”

      Not only with the computer work, Nancy added to

      herself, but keeping an eye on you and Henry and

      Byron.

      Nancy reached for the wall switch to turn off the

      overhead fluorescent lights once more, but Blaine

      stopped her. “I've got work to do, Nancy. I'll lock up

      when I go. Careful getting home.”

      Nancy looked at Blaine, who was already turning on

      the computer she and Bess had just used. “Isn't the

      computer in your office networked into the main

      system?” she asked Blaine, careful to keep any

      suspicion out of her voice.

      Blaine eyed Nancy steadily and replied, “Yes, of

     


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