“Mr Jensen?”
“Yes?” I said, cautiously.
“My name’s Susan Crossfield. I’m a freelance journalist and I’m doing a piece on the internet and cults. I’ve emailed you several times asking for an interview, but didn’t get a reply.” I had indeed ignored the emails. I want to tell my own story, not have it done for me by some freelance hack.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve got anything very interesting to tell you.”
“But you are responsible for maintaining novotnik.com, aren’t you?” I nodded. “Well, I just thought you’d have an interesting angle on things. I mean, surely you of all people must have some thoughts on why there’s still so much interest in Pete Novotnik?”
“Not really,” I said. “It’s just something I agreed to do for Pete. I maintain the site, that’s all. I don’t think I’ve got much to say that would interest your readers.”
“OK. Maybe you could just clear up one question for me then. Do the names ‘Zarathustra’, ‘SelfishMeme’ and ‘Diceman’ mean anything to you?”
I froze – and I could see that she knew she was onto something. I did my best to recover my composure and tried to affect a nonchalant shrug. It didn’t seem to have the desired effect.
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “I’ve been talking to a few people who are regular contributors to the discussion pages on the site. One of them’s a bit of a computer whizz. He says he’s traced postings by someone calling themselves ‘Zarathustra’, ‘SelfishMeme’ and ‘Diceman’ to an internet account belonging to you. He said he’d always thought of you as someone who was sympathetic to Pete Novotnik, but now he’s starting to wonder. Would you like me to read you some of the things that ‘Zarathustra’, ‘SelfishMeme’ and ‘Diceman’ have been saying on the site? Perhaps that’ll jog your memory. They don’t exactly sound like true believers.”
It was true. I had indeed contributed to discussion forums on the site using various different aliases to make sceptical comments. These usually provoked the true believers into a passionate defence of Pete and all that he stood for. Initially, I had thought that I might be able to influence the debate, so I had been more guarded in the way that I expressed myself – thinking that all that was required was to sow some tiny seeds of doubt. But over time it had become apparent that most people using the site weren’t interested in having a debate – they logged on in order to have their views reinforced, rather than questioned. So gradually, my interventions became little more than a way for me to let off steam – and the postings became ever more provocative. But if I admitted to all that, then the game would be up before I had the chance to tell my side of the story. I decided to try to brazen it out.
“Has it occurred to you that I might not be the only person who can access that internet account? I mean, how do you know your computer whizz hasn’t posted those comments himself?” I felt quite pleased with myself for having the presence of mind to come up with this.
The woman looked unimpressed. “You’re right, I can’t be certain it wasn’t him. But if that’s really what happened, then I’m sure I can rely on you to get to the bottom of what’s been going on.” She smiled cheerfully and started walking away. Then she turned and said:
“You’ve got a week, Mr Jensen. I’ll email the postings to you so you can read them for yourself, but I reckon you already know what they say. Bye for now!”
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