DarkMarket_ Cyberthieves, Cybercops and You - Misha Glenny [109]
Back in May 2007 Matrix001 had sent Keith Mularski a redacted version of the anonymous email he had received warning him that he was under surveillance by the German police. Mularski’s initial reaction was to assume that his colleagues at the US Secret Service were responsible for the leak. At the time, the Feds and the Secret Service were running competing operations into DarkMarket, multiplying the possibility of a security breach out of either incompetence or malice. But at least three overseas police forces knew about Matrix: the British, the French and, of course, the Germans.
Nobody from the police underestimated the importance of the emails. Along with the possible existence of a mole was the equally disturbing idea that someone had hacked into the computers belonging to one of the investigating units. Operation DarkMarket had begun in earnest, but the busts of Matrix001 and JiLsi were just the start – the plan was to expand it over several years. The emails jeopardised the whole strategy built up over two years of painstaking work. The leak had to be stopped. The need to find the source became the topmost priority for the international investigation.
The arrival of the hushmail logs on Lingel’s desk meant that a detailed examination of the evidence could begin. As the technical specialist on the team who had investigated Matrix001, it was Lingel’s job to establish who had attempted to access those accounts at around the time that Matrix was sent them.
Lingel identified that one IP address trying to access the anonymous hushmail accounts came from the Stuttgart area. He discounted that one immediately – it was his own. After Keith Mularski had first alerted Stuttgart to the existence of the emails, Lingel had attempted to log onto the hushmail account using some standard passwords (such as admin or password) and others belonging to prominent DarkMarketeers that were already known to law enforcement. The other login attempts came from IP addresses in Berlin and elsewhere in Germany. On the morning of 12th September during a discussion with his head of department Gert Wolf, Lingel explained that they did not have a suspect yet, but they had succeeded in narrowing down the possibilities.
After lunch Wolf put his head round Lingel’s door and said they had to go and see their divisional chief. Lingel walked into the room to find a panel of senior policemen awaiting him, including an officer from the sinister-sounding Dezernat 3.5, the Stuttgart department for internal police investigations. Lingel was baffled and rather nervous. The officer suddenly announced, ‘Mr Lingel, we are placing you under investigation on suspicion of having informed a suspect that he was under surveillance.’
Lingel was speechless. Gradually shock gave way to anger. ‘There I was,’ he thought, ‘working all week with my boss to resolve this mess, and then he pops his head round the door after lunch one day and sinks a knife straight into my back.’
‘Look, Mr Lingel,’ the officer continued, ‘you’ve got two choices. Either you cooperate with us in this investigation or we are going to place you right now in investigative custody.’
Lingel agreed to cooperate. His chief explained that he must now take all his remaining leave, after which he would be suspended until further notice.
In his mid-forties, Lingel had an unconventional history. He was born in Windhoek, the capital of Namibia, which, as South-West Africa, had been one of the few outposts of imperial Germany during the colonial period. As a five-year-old he then moved with his parents