Chapter24
TWENTY-FOUR
Washington D.C. -- FBI
OH BOY!” NEWMAN
said. “You’re not gonna believe this one!”
Vanderwaal took the letter from him and read it out loud.
Dear Mr. President, I trust I’m not annoying you with all these requests. I really had hoped this wouldn’t be necessary. But I was wrong. It appears that someone, in her infinite wisdom, has taken it upon herself to shut down my website -- you know, the one that jurors have been invited to participate on.
By now your profilers should have told you that my word is very important to me.
I promised these jurors that if someone in the government took my site down, I would have a word with someone higher up in government who could turn it back on. I’m afraid, Mr. President, that someone is you.
So I’m asking, politely, that you pick up the phone, or send out a memo or whatever it is that you do in situations like this, to affect the desired results. In the interest of fair play, restore my site to the -- how did ex-Vice President Gore put it? -- oh yeah, to the "information highway."
If it’s not up in twenty-four hours, I’ll assume you deign to ignore my request. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
In anticipation of an amicable resolution to this unfortunate happening,
Dave Ruskjer
“Can’t we have those Western Union guys identify who’s sending these?” Vanderwaal asked.
“They do,” Newman said. “It’s a different ID every time, even though he always signs off Dave Ruskjer. They say whoever leaves the messages leaves cash, then leaves. There’s not enough time to get a lock on him.”
“And I imagine,” Vanderwaal sighed, “he uses different Western Union offices every time.”
“But of course,” Newman said.