It's a Bunch of Kids
Previously: The teams wraps up at Xavier Prep. Jeannie returns home to her family.
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San Francisco Chronicle
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Local Law Enforcement Stymied by Teen Tech
Matier and Ross
It seems that the “Pr3pSF” website at the center of the Alexa Thomas case remains an enigma to local law enforcement. The site seems to be the Fight Club of the college preparatory crowd: The first rule of Pr3pSF is to never talk about Pr3pSF.
Jonah Dennison — a Silicon Valley cybersecurity expert who guest lectures on tech ethics and law at USF — said that the site is uniquely exclusionary with a sophisticated structure. “I took a look at it, and I’m impressed. It’s not complex, but just complex enough to keep people away. It makes you wonder what all goes on there. I looked for my own curiosity — but it does seem concerning. Why would a site for teens with content by teens need to be so locked up?”
No one seems to know when the Pr3pSF website made its debut, but rumors from the private high school crowd seem to date it to the start of the school year in 2013. The site is apparently the locus of quite a bit of online bullying happening right under the nose of many concerned parents of the finer schools in San Francisco. Access is limited to those with a fancyprepschool.edu email address, but only after someone effectively “sponsors” you to join.
Law enforcement believe it to be the locus of the initial bullying of Alexa Thomas that may have lead to her death on Halloween night in The Presidio. Here’s hoping they can crack the code.
The young SFPD officer working on the Alexa Thomas case along with the FBI and US Park Police is already familiar to those in the know at the Hall of Justice, and not just because she’s another cop wandering the halls of 850 Bryant. Officer Jean Hagen is the daughter of the Honorable Peter Hagen, formerly of the Juvenile Court. Judge Hagen retired late last year, while his daughter graduated from the Police Academy this past spring. Officer Hagen graduated from Hastings in 2013, but failed her first attempt at the California bar exam. However, it looks like her knowledge of the law is serving her just fine. Not everyone needs to go into the family business.
8:47AM Sunday, November 9, 2014
Lower Pacific Heights, San Francisco
Jeannie looked around at the bare room, empty but for a large worn-out club chair, a simple vintage pine desk and old-fashioned swivel chair bought as a set at the flea market. All the detritus from the desk: law books, notepads, whatever had been left here all these months, was finally stacked into a neat pile and placed on the floor next to the wall. A dead and dried out monstera plant sat in one corner, begging to be put out of its misery.
Wiping the desk top with a damp rag, she moved on to the chair, then the window sills and base boards. She’d need to sweep and mop the floor eventually to get the rest of the dust that had settled in with lack of use. She stood tall, still in her pajamas, and surveyed the room wondering why she’d always left it so bare. Sitting down at the desk again, she felt the steady comfort of the soft, old pine wood, its broad seat and perfectly-proportioned arms. She looked at the empty desk in front of her and tried to think of herself and who she was when she last sat there. It came to her fuzzy and somewhat blank, but there were hours spent at the desk, that much she knew. She also knew that the more intense things became the less she remembered of being there; like even though her body knew what it was to sit there at that desk, that her mind wasn’t present at all.
“Where did I go?” Jeannie whispered to herself, brow knitting as she tried to account for the time, hands moving over the wooden desktop. She knew everything that had happened, but somehow all of that didn’t balance the time.
She sat thinking, staring out the tall thin window that over looked the back yard. A neighbor’s overly-large avocado tree took up most of the view, with the sharp rooflines and faded siding of the houses on the street behind them peeking through the foliage. She’d chosen this room for the quiet found at the back of the house, along with its bright daylight. She thought both things would help her to concentrate and keep a clear head while she studied. It had worked at first. Then it just became a room to get lost inside of. Then she got lost in the Police Academy, somehow piling all of that on top of the piles that were already there. Piles on piles — she realized she’d buried herself over and over. Burying to find a way out.
“What are you doing up here?” Chris asked from the doorway, a fresh cappuccino in a large cup. Jeannie turned and smiled at him, shrugging silently. “I was worried — I couldn’t find you at first and then saw the door to come up here was unlocked.” He set the coffee down on the desktop in front of her, leaning down for a kiss. “You’re in Matier & Ross1 — how do they find out everything?” He slapped the Sunday Chronicle down, just as Jeannie picked up the cup for a sip.
“What do they say?”
“Mmm — read it. I can’t decide if it’s nice or snarky.” He said into her hair, giving her another light kiss.
“Sounds like Matier & Ross — if it’s too snarky, maybe I’ll exclude Phil Matier from the Christmas party invite.” Jeannie shrugged.
“Christmas party? Is that back on?” Chris grinned.
“I need to talk to Brandon about it, but I think it may be time.” She smiled a little, raising her eyebrows.
“Good.” Chris looked at her with a half smile, assessing. “What possessed you to come up here? You haven’t been here on a Sunday in forever and this is where you go? It’s a mess.”
“I know — I couldn’t sleep, so came up here and then decided to clean a little. It’s still a good work room.” Chris flopped down into the empty easy chair, taking in the pile of books and papers on the floor. His plaid pajama pants were paired with a very faded Penn t-shirt that was one Jeannie loved to borrow. “I think I may do some work up here today — get my mind around a few things about the case.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“You know I can’t tell you anything more than what’s out there. It’s a bunch of kids, Chris.” She bent a knee, propping a bare foot up on the chair seat. “It’s all more than a little fraught.” She sipped on the coffee again, thinking of Jen Tyson and Seb Podesta. Both had generated more questions than answers in some ways.
“Well…what if I told you I was going to make waffles?” Chris suggested with a sly smile. “And then I thought we could go to the farmer’s market, maybe get a beer someplace, and then come back home and chill…make dinner. Watch a show.”
“That sounds like a proper Sunday.”
10:11 AM Sunday, November 9, 2014
Lower Pacific Heights, San Francisco
Jeannie loaded the new dishwasher, tidying up the kitchen before they left. Her cell phone buzzed from the edge of the counter, revealing M.GREENBERG across the top.
“Mark? Do not tell me I have to work today.”
“No — no I’m not saying that at all.” Mark took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to bug you — I just wanted to let you know that I got word that we can talk to Jen Tyson tomorrow morning. Her mother arrived back in town and I guess the aunt gave her a run-down on everything and she’s being overly-accommodating now. She even forwarded me a few screen grabs of texts that Jen got on Friday afternoon before she took the pills — they’re pretty illuminating.”
“What do you mean? Who from?”
“I’ll be you can guess.”
“Tally.”
“It’s always Tally in the end, isn’t it? These were classic mean-girl: “you’ll always be Tyson the Dyson...you should just end yourself now…” and more of the same.” Mark faded with a sigh.
“She actually said that? Wow.” Jeannie felt herself seethe as she thought of Talbot Briggs. “When do we get to sit down with Tally? That conversation needs to happen.”
“I agree. I was thinking Monday right after school — do it at Holy Heart. Have the Dean there and her mother or whomever she wants. The more the better at this point. I want everyone to hear what she has to say.”
“And then?”
“And then if we can get her to give up Tripp we can go to the Grand Jury.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then she gets arrested.” This made Jeannie catch her breath. She couldn’t decided if it would be more satisfying to see Tally in handcuffs or testifying against her drug dealer. The drugs.
“What about Zoila? I was thinking about her yesterday — she can’t go home again. It won’t be safe. I guarantee you Hartman didn’t get that stash out of thin air. Whomever he got it from will want it sold or will want it back. They’ll come looking for her.”
“Already on it. She’s at the Jesuit Residence for the time being, and then she’ll be moved to another one in San Jose. Nathan won’t even know where she’ll be — he can’t know.”
Jeannie sighed. “He won’t like that, but it’s probably safer.” A loud paging system sounded on Mark’s end of the phone, the voice somewhat garbled but insistent. “Where are you anyways? You sound like you’re at an airport or something.”
“I am at the airport, in Oakland. Katie’s mom is coming in from New York — she was on the first flight. Katie’s in labor.”
“What? Mark — oh my God! What — what do you need? Anything?” He chuckled a little. “Did you get any sleep?”
“Yeah I slept Friday night, and got a nap in yesterday, and then she woke me up to say she was in labor. So we go to the hospital, and that’s where I’ve been until now.”
“What can I do? Did you get the nursery done? I can come build furniture if you need —”
“Jeannie, thank you. I — really, I — that’s very nice of you to offer especially since I’ve been, well I know I haven’t been the easiest to deal with this week. I got the nursery done and built yesterday. It’s not perfect the way she wants it, but it’s pink and the furniture’s built, so I’m not a complete failure.” He huffed a sigh as another announcement came over the loudspeaker. “There’s her flight arriving now. I should wrap up.”
“Mark — what — are you going to take time off?” Chris came in the kitchen dressed and ready, his face bent at overhearing Jeannie’s question.
“I can’t really, can I? Katie’s furious, but she gets it, and now her mom’s coming so that’ll be a big help. I can’t imagine getting someone else ramped up now that we’re at the end. I’m hoping we can wrap up tomorrow with Tally and hand off what we have to the Grand Jury. See how they want to play it.”
“And the DEA?” Chris’ head snapped to Jeannie as she said it. She shook her head at him.
“Hopefully they have enough. And who knows what the IRS is looking for, but at least we’ll have done what we can for Alexa,” Mark added quietly. “I keep reminding myself that she’s the case we need to solve. Alexa deserves her justice.”
“It’s pretty clear that the Hartmans are in a lot of people’s crosshairs.” Jeannie mumbled. “I just want them to get what they deserve.”
Phil Matier and Andy Ross - a reporting duo that blended scoops, insights, and reporting with a signature “informal insider” voice in the San Francisco Chronicle. Their column of tidbits about everything from personalities to politics was published three days a week, on Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday for more than 20 years before ending their column in 2022.