"Can you introduce your hacker friend, Mr. Whistler?" Barbara Morse pressed further.
Whistler looked regretful. "I can't do that, because I've never met them either. All our communication has been through the internet."
Barbara Morse clearly did not quite believe Whistler's excuse. She looked at the silent Henry beside him.
Ever since his time at Stark Studios, working on digital imaging development, Henry Brown had displayed extraordinary intelligence. He had even attracted the envy of his peers, leading to the string of incidents that followed.
No one knew where his limits lay, but for someone who understood computers, knowing a little hacking was hardly strange. And if he knew hacking, then making a map like this was perfectly normal, wasn't it?
Barbara Morse could not help suspecting this silent man.
Noticing the gaze from this old acquaintance, Henry raised both hands in surrender. "Whoa, ma'am, this has nothing to do with me. I merely introduced Whistler to Chief Stacy. I don't know anything else."
For something like this, he could only deny it to the bitter end. Only an idiot would admit it. Henry was confident that he had put multiple layers of protection in place; even if someone cracked the backend, they would never trace it back to him.
Did she know how most hackers got caught? They bragged to their friends. Their friends blabbed it around, and eventually it reached the police, prosecutors, or investigators. It was not that their hacking or counter-surveillance had been broken—it was that people were the problem.
Barbara Morse naturally did not believe such a transparent excuse and immediately pressed on. "Then how did you two meet? Would you just happen to know a vampire hunter?"
Putting on an exaggeratedly innocent expression, Henry spread his hands and said helplessly, "Since the existence of