Karma

I am a digital forensic analyst, no, I should use ‘was’ a digital forensics analyst. Now I am just an ordinary prisoner. Before I was sent to the slammer, I worked as a data forensics analyst with the police. I extracted data evidence from mobile phones, computers, or the internet. Then I would hand it over to the investigators for investigation, very CSI type stuff. Rigorous documentation was an important part of the job. I had to make detailed records of all operations, time, and any interactions I had. Although many of my colleagues used electronic documents for taking notes, I still used to write down my notes in a little black notebook, and then type it later into the computer. I do not know if this was a good habit, but looking back now, I feel a little grateful for my old-school approach. Although this does not change my current situation.

My story begins the morning Taylor Healy walked into my office. I was just working on extracting data from a mobile phone and writing my notes that I found into my little black book.

"Exhibit No. 209-1: Samsung S9 mobile phone. At 10:15 on November 20, 2017, extracted SIM card data successfully. The cell phone is PIN locked. Started to crack the PIN.”

This mobile phone was part of the evidence found at the scene of a murder. The murderer brutally killed a family of three, the youngest, a daughter of whom was only two years old. The mobile phone was the only real evidence left behind at the murder scene. He or She was very experienced in removing fingerprints and footprints. Fortunately for us, it probably fell out of his/her pocket because it was found stuck in the couch without being noticed by the murderer. My job was to find the owner’s identity information from the phone.

While I was working, Detective Taylor Healy walked in. He worked for the Missing Person department. He was holding a paper box in his hand. He poured everything in the carton on my test bench which included several USB sticks and some portable hard drives.

“what are you busy working on?” he asked.

“The homicide of the family of 3. You must have heard about it. They found a cell phone at the scene which belongs to no one in the family. “

“Yes, I’ve heard about it. It’s such a brutal case. Any luck with the cell phone?” Healy asked again.

“No, I just started working on it. It’s locked by a PIN. To get data out, I still have to crack the PIN first.”

"How was the game yesterday?" Healy asked, changing the topic. He knew I was an ice hockey fan.

"Don't remind me”, I responded with a sigh. “Who would have thought that the Dolphins would lose to the Bears."

"How much did you lose this time?" He asked.

"2000”.

"Holy," Healy whistled, "I am sorry, man. You will make it back next time."

I did not know how to respond to him, I had no money left to gamble anymore. Not only that I would probably have to file for bankruptcy protection. The years I had spent gambling was catching up to me in a bad way.

“Your favorite poker challenge is starting tomorrow in Vegas? Aren’t you going this year?” He asked

“I wish I could, but there is no money in my pocket left for that,” I said gloomily.

"Let’s get back to work”, said Healy, “I have a missing persons case and I need it to be dealt with immediately. The victim, Thomas Brown, has a high probability of being kidnapped. Some witnesses said they saw Thomas Brown being forced into a minivan yesterday. Brown has no friends, no known relatives, a real loner type, so our investigation met a dead end. These are USB sticks and mobile hard drives we found in his room. I need you to export the data for me right away. It must be as soon as possible. If we can find useful clues, there might be a chance to save the victim."

Although a murder case is a major criminal case, kidnapping has a higher priority level when it comes to response time. The victim of a murder case is dead, but in a kidnapping case, the response speed can often influence the outcome of the victim.

I responded, “I will deal with it right away. If I find anything, I will notify you immediately."

"Thank Bro. I knew I could count on you." Healy said as he walked out of my office.

I put aside my work on the cellphone from the murder case. I started to check the USB sticks and portable hard drives that detective Healy gave me one by one while making notes in my little black book.

After working on everything for a few hours, I only had one purple USB stick left. Up to this point, I only found emails, most were junk mail, and some were from Cash Money, banks, etc. None of it was useful.

"Huh?", I inquired with interest as I looked at the last USB stick. It was encrypted!

In the entire department, only I knew how to crack this type of encryption. Other analysts would just record a log like this: "Encrypted equipment, data cannot be extracted." For geeks like me, cracking the password was like solving a puzzle, it was fun.

After a few attempts, I successfully cracked the password and was shocked to learn what secrets the USB drive contained. I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, and with a wide mouth, I just sat and stared at my computer screen. The USB was an electronic wallet with approximately 2.5 bitcoins in it. Quickly I checked the price of Bitcoin on google. This 2.5 Bitcoin was worth 20,000 USD! I could not believe it! I felt like I just found buried treasure!

A thought suddenly came to me: “If I transfer this bitcoin to my bitcoin wallet...I could just say in my report that the USB could not be cracked, no one would find out. Unless, of course, they found the missing person”.

Bitcoin as a cryptocurrency is very hard to trace. Even if someone opens the USB drive later, they will not be able to find out where the bitcoin went. No one can identify the parties involved in a Bitcoin transaction. Making bitcoin wildly used in the black market.

Call me crazy, but this seemed to be what I needed to help dig myself out of that financial hole. The sudden ringing of the phone brought me back to reality, startling me. “Hello?” I asked

"We have found the missing person and they are dead. So, those exhibits don't need to be rushed for inspection." Healy responded on the other end. “I can collect the evidence from the missing person’s case in a few days”.

“Sounds good” I responded, still breathless from being torn from my thoughts. “Talk to you later.”

After hanging up, I took a long breath and with a shaking hand pressed the "Transfer" button.

Now I know that I should have used that money to pay off my loans, but the truth of it was, the 20,000 is not enough to pay off all my debts. Call me crazy, but I was feeling lucky. Yes, I had lost a lot in the past, but this was probably a sign that my luck was changing. I quickly made the decision that I could try to win more money to pay off my debt and then I would stop gambling for good.

I took a few days off and flew to Las Vegas. In the beginning, things went well, and I won a lot, had some fun with a few showgirls, booked a fancy penthouse, and lived like a king. While in Vegas my luck changed, of course, I lost all my money and I returned home empty-handed. As soon as I got off the plane, I saw my former colleagues who came to arrest me, which is how I ended up in this place.

How did I get found out you might ask? Well, it turns out the contents of the USB stick were not entirely a secret. Someone from the kidnapping case knew about the electronic wallet and reported its existence anonymously. I do not know exactly who it was, but that anonymous call was the end of my career as a digital forensics analyst. Of course, the story does not end there.

Currently, I have spent the last year in prison. This morning, I headed down to the cafeteria to receive breakfast as usual, when I suddenly heard a roar from behind.

"I am going to fucking kill you!"

Immediately after hearing those words, I felt a hard punch hitting me in the back of my head, knocking me to the ground. As soon as I hit the floor, I felt a man jump onto my back and felt his hard fists in my head a second time. I tried to roll away, but he grabbed me by the neck, choking me, I could not breathe. By the time the guards had managed to pull the man away from me, I had almost suffocated. After I felt the release of his hands from my throat, I sat up coughing and gasping for air. My throat was so hot and sore, it took me a long time to get over my breath. I sat on the ground trying to catch a glimpse of the person who had just tried to kill me. He was wearing an orange prison uniform, which is the color of the new inmates coming to the prison. When I saw his face, I managed to blurt out: "Why are you here?"

This person who just attacked me was none other than detective Healy. Well, now he was a former detective.

I wanted to know why he is here, and the reason he hated me so deeply. He would not explain it to me, only told me that I needed to watch my back because next time there would be no guards to save me.

Shortly after I found the answer myself from the computer in the library with internet access. With one google search I found this is a news article about detective Taylor Healy:

The betrayal of the guilty former detective Taylor Healy was prosecuted again. The former police officer Taylor, Healy has been convicted of first-degree murder in the three-door killings. He has been brought to court and is accused of using his position to destroy key exhibits. Healy secretly exchanged the phone of the murder case to another phone of the same model while an investigation on the original forensic analyst was being done. However, a notebook left behind by the former forensic analyst played a key role. Although the former analyst did not extract the phone data, he had read the cell phone number from the sim card and wrote this information down in his notes before Healy changed the phone. The number was confirmed to belong to former police officer Healy. This led to further investigation on Healy, confirming that Healy was responsible for the three murders.

So that is why Healy just tried to kill me, my written notes brought him to justice. What a coincidence that we both ended up in the same place, or was it? Suddenly, a vision of the emails I found on Thomas Brown’s hard drive came into my mind. “Cash money-your 1000 loan is …”

Why would someone with 20,000 dollars worth of bitcoin need a small loan? If that USB bitcoin wallet does not belong to Brown. Then, who is the person who made the anonymous report that ends up putting me in jail?

I finally figured out the truth, I yelled and rushed out of the library.

"Healy, I'm going to kill you, you son of bitch!"