Part 22 (1/2)
”Yeah. 'It's all become too much. I'm sorry. Love, Steve.' And that was it.” She sighed. ”Never a hint that anything was wrong.”
Jack tried to imagine how he'd feel if Gia ever did something like that. He failed. At least Steve had thought enough of her to do it where she wouldn't be the one to find his body.
She sipped her beer, then said, ”Anyway, as I was going through his things, I went into his laptop and found lots of bookmarks to Nine/Eleven Truther sites. We've both always been into conspiracies and apparently this one tickled him.”
”Could there be any connection between his ... death and what happened to you today?”
She shook her head. ”That's tempting, but no. The police traced his movements-applying for the gun permit, waiting for the background check ... apparently he'd been planning it for some time. I never had a clue. I still don't have any idea why. I don't think I ever will.” She shook her head. ”But that's not the story. The story is that as I skimmed a few of the sites I came across a photo of bin Laden and his top two deputies, al-Zawahiri and Mohammed Atef. Here. See for yourself.”
She turned to her computer and began typing. Soon a black-and-white photo of three bearded guys in turbans popped up. Jack recognized bin Laden but not the others.
”I kept staring at it, feeling something was wrong. And then it hit me. I'd seen the photo before and was sure there'd been a fourth man in it. So I did an image search, but every time I found it, only the same three were in it. No sign of the fourth.”
Jack feigned shock. ”Don't tell me the famous Weezy Connell memory hiccupped?”
She stuck her tongue out at him. ”Not funny. I was worried it had.”
”n.o.body's perfect.”
”True, but it's never let me down yet. So I went hunting through newspapers and magazines.”
”Ah,” Jack said, glancing at the stacks that filled the neighboring dining room. ”I'm beginning to see.”
”I was pretty sure I'd seen it in the Times Times, but I wasn't sure of the date.”
More mock shock: ”You forgot? forgot?”
”I never forget what I read, but I'm not always aware of the date when I'm reading it, so my brain doesn't form a connection. Anyway, I bought a bunch of back issues from the immediate postnine/eleven period and found it.”
”Where on Earth do you buy old newspapers?”
”Google 'vintage newspapers' and you'll see.” She popped up from her seat. ”Here, I'll show-oh!”
Swaying, she clutched the back of the chair.
Jack leaped to his feet and grabbed her arm.
”What's wrong?”
”Just dizzy. Not ready for sudden movements yet, I guess.”
”Maybe you'd better lie down.”
She shook him off. ”No way. But maybe a beer isn't such a good idea.”
She left the bottle behind and led him on a winding course through the stacks in the living room. She stopped by one next to the stairs to the second floor, counted down to the sixth issue, and pulled out a copy of the Times Times.
Handing it to Jack, she said, ”Check out page four.”
Jack did just that, and immediately spotted the photo.
”I'll be d.a.m.ned.”
The exact same configuration of bin Laden and his buds, but this one showed an extra man. The fourth was bearded and turbanned like the others but caught in profile instead of face on-as if he'd been turning away from the camera when the shutter clicked.
Weezy was tapping a finger against her temple. ”Never forgets.”
”Who's the fourth guy?”
”Remember I mentioned The Man Who Wasn't There? That's him. Wahid bin Aswad.”
”But what's the point of taking him out of the photo?”
”That's what I'd like to know.” She crooked her finger at him as she headed back toward the kitchen. ”There's more.”
Back at the computer she plugged in her network cable, opened the New York Times New York Times site, and found that issue. But the photo showed only three men. site, and found that issue. But the photo showed only three men.
Jack blinked. ”Somebody hacked the Times Times.”
”Yes. Twice. Because I contacted them-anonymously, of course-and told them the photo had been altered. I watched daily and soon the original was restored. Days later, the doctored photo was back in its place.”
Baffled, Jack dropped into a chair. ”But what does the hacker hope to accomplish? Copies of the real photo have to be all over the place.”
”But they're not. The real, four-man photo exists in newspapers, which are disposable. They wind up either recycled or used as landfill or fish wrapping or on the bottom of birdcages. More and more, people are looking to the Internet for their reading and research. If they blog about nine/eleven and want to include this photo, they snag it from the Times Times's site or from someone else who previously borrowed from the Times Times. And later on, folks snag it from that blog for some use of their own. And on and on and on. The doctored version of that photo is everywhere on the Web. The original with Wahid bin Aswad ... is nowhere.”
Jack shook his head. ”But why?”
”I don't know. But it's pretty clear that since nine/eleven, someone's been trying to rewrite history. Someone's trying to erase evidence that Wahid bin Aswad was with bin Laden and company on that day, or on any day, for that matter.”
”What do you mean, 'any day'?”
She started mousing around and opened a photo file.
”I did an image search for bin Laden and collected any in which he appeared to be part of a group photo. Then I traced them as best I could to their origins-almost always online news sources. I bought up a lot of old papers and searched out those photos. I found three more that had been altered. In all instances, a single figure had been removed.”
”Let me guess: Wahid bin a.s.swipe.”
Weezy frowned. ”Oh, that's mature.”
”I have a wide streak of immaturity, Weez. I nurture it. And I have a big problem showing even a flyspeck of respect toward bin Laden and his buddies.”
”This is serious, Jack.”
”Is it? Why?”
”Because the Internet is becoming the source of record for all but the most serious and dedicated researchers.” She clicked on an icon and the doctored three-shot popped onto the screen. ”This is a lie. And it's a lie that's being told again and again all over the Web every time it's copied and posted somewhere else. Tell a lie often enough and it can become the truth. Someone is expunging all photographic evidence of Wahid bin Aswad from the Web. Not mentions of his name-those have remained untouched-just the images.”