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Noah clicked through some pages and then showed me what looked like a classified ad.
PECCATUM KITCHEN PRESENTS
CANDLELIGHT AND DARKNESS
FINE WINE AND FABULOUS TABOOS
YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE
DINNER—MONDAY NIGHT 11ISH
WHERE—SOMEWHERE IN NYC (BELOW 96TH) TO BE ANNOUNCED FOR OBVIOUS REASONS
COST—$2000 PER COUPLE
RESERVATIONS AND REFERENCES A MUSTY MUST—
AS ALWAYS
“This is from Craigslist,” Noah explained. “It’s a screen shot. I found it about an hour ago when I called you. It stayed on for five minutes, then disappeared. I just lucked on it.”
“Well, let’s see. Peccatum means ‘sin’ in Latin, I know,” I said offhandedly as I read it over again.
“How did you know that?” Noah said, surprised. “I had to look it up.”
“Freshman Latin at Regis High,” I said. “This ad sure sounds pretty weird, but how does this relate to Naomi’s murder? Do you think this is some sort of cannibal dinner or something?”
Noah nodded as he restacked the papers that had fallen. Beside the printouts, I noticed a copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales open to a picture of Hansel and Gretel sitting in a cage while the witch stirred the pot.
“For the last week or so, I’ve been really delving into cannibalism research,” Noah said. “Especially the cannibalism subculture on the web. For obvious reasons, I concentrated my searches on Deepnet sites.”
“Which sites?” I said.
“Deepnet. It’s Internet stuff that doesn’t register on surface search sites like Google. A bunch of underground sites use this thing called the Tor network, which is basically a bunch of connected random volunteer servers that pass data back and forth in an elaborate routing system with multiple levels of encryption to maintain secrecy.”
“Sounds like the seedy underbelly of the Internet,” I said.
“Exactly,” Noah said. “It’s unregulated and filled with open communication about black-market commerce and hacking and criminal activity. It contains a lot of really, really sick and spooky stuff.”
“So it’s true that cannibalism is an actual subculture now?” I said.
“Shockingly, yes,” Noah said, blinking at me. “I found four sites that had open forums about it. Dozens of people on threads going on and on about killing and eating people. Most of it seemed like sick fantasy stuff, except for this one site that seems to be based in the NYC area.
“These creeps who were exchanging Hannibal Lecter–style recipes kept giving references to the initials PK. ‘When is PK going to happen again?’ and ‘Have you heard about the next PK?’ One of the weirdos said he had heard something was going to be posted on Craigslist soon, so I kept an eye out.
“And then an hour ago, voilà! I was trolling through the bowels of Craigslist NYC and found this. PK must be Peccatum Kitchen. Has to be. And it’s happening tonight.”
“Great job, Robertson. This does seem like a lead,” I said, smiling. “Especially the two grand for dinner part. Both witnesses described what definitely seems like some sort of bizarre upscale underground supper club. How do you contact for reservations?”
“That cell number there in the upper left-hand corner,” Noah said, tapping the screen. “I already had the phone company trace it, Mike. No luck on a name. It’s a temp cell phone bought with cash from a Radio Shack in Times Square.”
“We definitely need to check this thing out,” I said. “Sign us up. Two of us will go to the dinner undercover, and the rest of the team will be backup.”
“Where are we going to come up with the two grand?” Noah said.
“The squad has about eighteen hundred dollars in the petty cash account, and we’ll pass around the hat for the rest,” I said. “Everyone wants to bring justice to Naomi and her family.”
“And references?” Noah said.
