“If you need to kill someone, then you came to the address”
On a fresh March day in 2016, Stephen Alvine entered the Wendis diner in Minneapolis. Smelling old cooking oil, he was looking for a man in dark jeans and a blue jacket. Olvine, who worked in IT support, was a skinny nerd with wire-glasses. He had $ 6,000 in cash with him - he collected it, taking silver bars and coins to a pawnshop to avoid suspicions about withdrawing money from a bank account. He found the right person in one of the booths.
They agreed to meet on the LocalBitcoins website, where people gather who want to buy or sell cryptocurrency near their place of residence. Alvine opened the Bitcoin Wallet application on the phone and transferred the cash, and the person scanned a QR code to transfer bitcoins. The transaction went through without problems. Then Alvine returned to the car and found that the keys to it remained inside, and the door was locked.
It was his birthday, he was 43, and he was supposed to meet at dinner with Michelle Woodard. Alvine met Woodard online a few months before. Relations developed rapidly, for some time they exchanged dozens of messages daily. Since then, their passion has faded, but they still sometimes slept together. Awaiting the arrival of a locksmith, he wrote to her that he was at a meeting to buy bitcoins, and was late. When the door was opened, he managed to meet with Woodard in a burger called the Blue Door Pub, intending to spend the rest of the day happy.
That evening he made himself another gift. Using the email address firstname.lastname@example.org he wrote to one person whom he knew under the name Jura. “I have bitcoins,” he said.
Yura ran the Besa Mafia website, which worked fordarknet and was only available using anonymous browsers like Tor. For Alvine’s goals, it was important that Besa Mafia, according to her statement, had connections with the Albanian mafia and advertised the services of killers. On the website’s home page was a photograph of a man with a gun and a marketing slogan: “If you need to kill someone or beat him well, then you have come to the address.
Jura promised that the user's money is stored on an escrow account and paid out only upon completion of work. However, Alvine was worried that when he sent the money, they would simply settle in someone else's wallet. But he wanted the statements of Yura to be true, therefore, despite his instincts, he translated bitcoins. “They say that Besa means trust, so please justify it,” he wrote to Jure. "For personal reasons, the explanation of which would reveal my identity, I need this bitch to be dead."
“This bitch” was Amy Alvine, his wife.
Stephen and Amy Alvine met 24 years earlier at Ambassador University, a Big Sandy religious school in Texas. In the first year, Stephen came with a group of his friends, religious youth from Spokane (Washington). Amy came from Minnesota and was not familiar with a large number of people at school. She quickly became friends with the Washingtonians. She was positive and easy to communicate with, and she and Stephen began to dance regularly - these classes brought them closer, but not too much. They belonged to the “World Church of God,” which promoted strict Sabbath on Saturdays, rejected pagan holidays such as Christmas, and opposed too close physical contact on the dance floor.
In 1995, when they were still at the university, the “United Church of God” split off from the “World Church of God”. Stephen and Amy embarked on a new sect that used the Internet to spread its doctrine. For Stephen, keen on computer science, it was a logical choice.
After college, they got married and moved to Minnesota to be closer to Amy's family. Amy could tame the most violent animals, and taught for several years at a dog training school before starting her own business, Active Dog Sports Training. The couple took their adopted son, and brought him home when he was only a couple of days old, after which in 2011 they moved to a house in Cottage Grove (Minnesota), an enclave of farmers and people working elsewhere, located in the Mississippi Valley, not far from the metropolitan area Minneapolis-Saint-Paul. Amy converted the large barn on the plot into a dog training arena, and a cozy mess soon developed in their house, in which Newfoundland and Australian shepherd dogs were covered in furniture and several unfinished Lego projects in the kitchen.
From the outside, everything looked normal. Stephen has grown to the rank of elder in the “United Church of God,” and Amy became a deaconess. The church lived according to the Jewish calendar, on Fridays the family dined with Amy's parents, whom Stephen called mom and dad. On Saturdays they went to services. Each year they traveled to attend the church’s autumn festival, held in various places around the world. Amy's business grew, and she often traveled around the country with friends, attending dog competitions. In their free time, the family supported the Allwine.net website, where, for example, one could find lists of relevant songs and instructional videos about dancing, which showed how to have fun without touching the partner too much. In one of the videos, Amy appears in khaki pants and hiking boots, and Stephen wears a polo shirt and loose jeans,
The day after buying Bitcoins, Stephen uploaded a picture of Amy on Allwine.net. The photo was taken during a vacation in Hawaii, and Amy has a blue-green T-shirt on her, and a broad smile is visible on her tanned face with freckles. Somewhere 25 minutes after uploading the photo, Stephen went to his dogdaygod email to send Yura a link. “Her height is slightly less than 1 m 70 cm, weight 91 kg,” he wrote. He specified that it would be best to kill her during an upcoming trip to Moulin (Illinois). If the killer manages to make her death look like an accident - for example, ram her Toyota Sienna minivan from the driver's side - he will add more bitcoins.
Yura confirmed the details of the transaction shortly after the letter, using broken English. “He will wait for her at the airport, track her in a stolen car, and when the opportunity arises, arrange a fatal accident.” He added that if the accident fails, "the killer will shoot her." He later reminded dogdaygod of the need to create an alibi: “Make sure that most of the time you are surrounded by people, spend time in shops or other public places where there is video surveillance.”
Steven was not usually surrounded by people. She and Amy lived on a plot of 11 acres, located on a dead end street. The house was a simple one-story portable building, set on a foundation. It had four bedrooms, a spacious living room and an open kitchen. Stephen equipped the roof with solar panels, and boasted that they give so much energy that he can pump it back into the network. He spent most of his time in an office in the basement, fixing glitches in the call center system. At home, he could work on two jobs at once - one was at Optanix IT services company, the other at Cigna insurance company. Employees often approached him with particularly complex problems.
The pastor, to whom the Olvines went, preached abstinence from carnal desires, and Stephen himself advised couples from his congregation who had problems with marriage. However, remaining alone, he allowed himself to dream, and went to sites like Naughtydates.com and LonelyMILFs.com. On a closed site Backpage, he picked up a girl from an escort service, and twice went to Iowa for sex with her. In the consultation process, he found out about the Ashley Madison dating site , designed for single people. There he met Michelle Woodard.
On a first date, Stephen accompanied Woodard during her visit to the doctor. For several weeks, she went on business trips with him. Woodard liked how Stephen was unusually calm. Once their connecting flight from Philadelphia was canceled. Stephen had an appointment at Hatford, Connecticut, at 8 in the morning, and he rented a car without any scandals, on which they drove the remaining 130 km.
A month before Stephen “ordered” his wife, he told Woodard that he would try to establish a relationship with Amy. In fact, his affair only strengthened his desire for a new life.
Theoretically, with his discipline and computer knowledge, Stephen was an ideal criminal for a darkweb. He swept the tracks with anonymous remailers that removed the identification information from the messages, and Tor, masking the IP address by transmitting data along a random path through a network of anonymous nodes. He came up with a complicated back story: allegedly, dogdaygod was a rival dog trainer, and wanted to kill Amy because she slept with her husband. To create his virtual identity in darkweb, he transferred his infidelity to his wife.
Members of the United Church of God meet at a local Methodist church
Stephen ordered the killing for the weekend, March 19, when Amy was supposed to be in Moulin for a training contest. But by the end of the weekend he wrote to Yura a letter complaining that he had not received any news about her death. Yura explained that the killer had not yet caught a convenient moment: “He needs to arrange everything in such a way as to hit her car from the driver’s side, to have a side collision to guarantee death.” The administrator of Besa Mafia seemed to understand that it was important for dogdaygod that Amy be killed on the road. “We are not interested in why people are being killed,” he wrote. “But if she is your wife or family member, we can do this in your city,” he said, adding that the client could leave the city on the appointed day. He offered to kill Amy at home and agreed
“Not a wife,” Stephen replied, “but the same thought occurred to me.” The next day he raised money. When he sent bitcoins to Besa Mafia, the page was updated, and he did not recognize the 34-character code that appeared. In a panic, he became worried that the cryptocurrency, on which he worked so hard, would disappear without a trace. He quickly copied the code and saved it in notes on the iPhone, and then sent the code to Yura in a letter with the subject “HELP!”. In less than a minute, he removed the code from the notes.
A few hours later, Yura answered, assuring that the transaction was successful, but the days went by and nothing happened. In the following weeks, Stephen’s messages sent to Yura rushed from laconicly disappointed to very detailed instructions. “I know that her husband has a large tractor, so she must have gas cans in the garage,” he wrote. "But eliminate it only, do not touch the father and the child." Yura, as if a helpful devil, replied with messages that strengthened the client’s mood. “Yes, she is really a bitch, and deserves to die,” he wrote. After an hour and a half, he added: "Keep in mind that 80% of our killers are members of gangs involved in drug trafficking, beating people, and sometimes murders." For an additional fee, dogdaygod could order the execution of a more experienced killer - a former Chechen sniper.
Stephen spent at least $ 12,000 on a venture with a killer. Instead of surrendering or pondering his fall, he only became even more determined. He signed up on the Darkweb website of Dream Market, better known for the drug trade, where he could choose other methods of killing. Common sense spoke of the need to use different user names, but he again used the name dogdaygod, as if he had already become a character invented by him. He had to recapture his expenses: Amy's insurance payout was $ 700,000.
In April 2016, about two months after Stephen first “ordered” his wife, Besa Mafia was hackedand Jura’s correspondence with clients - including dogdaygod - was uploaded to pastebin. From the data it became known that users with nicknames like Killerman and kkkcolsia were paid tens of thousands of dollars in bitcoins for killing people in Australia, Canada, Turkey and the United States. Soon, these orders arrived at the FBI, and the agency sent orders to local offices to contact the alleged victims. FBI Special Agent Asher Silkie, who worked in an office in Minneapolis, found out that someone named dogdaygod wanted Amy Alvine dead. He was instructed to warn her of the threat.
Tuesday, immediately after Memorial DaySilky enlisted the help of Terry Raymond, a local police officer, and together they drove up to the Alvine house. Cottage Grove is a quiet suburb for wealthy people, but, like throughout the country, local police have increasingly received reports of online threats. Raymond, an introverted man with angular features underlined by a trimmed beard, served in the police for 13 years and was a computer crime specialist.
When Silkie and Raymond arrived, Stephen Alvine invited them in. He told two law enforcement officials that Amy was not at home, and they stood silently in the room while he called her on the phone. Stephen seemed to Raymond a man awkward in the presence of others, but he did not attach any importance to this. In his work he had to deal with everything.
The police returned to the department, and Amy arrived soon. They met in the lobby, where an oil painting hung, depicting the service dog of the unit, Blitz, and led her into the interrogation room, where there was almost no furniture. Since the investigation was led by the FBI, Raymond mostly listened, and Silky explained to Amy that someone who knew her travel schedule and everyday habits wanted her dead. Amy was astounded. She got even more confused when Silkie mentioned the allegations that Amy was sleeping with her tamer's husband. She could not understand who could consider her an enemy. “If you notice something suspicious, call us,” Raymond told her goodbye.
A few weeks later, the Olvines installed a video surveillance system with motion sensors at home, and installed cameras at different entrances. Stephen purchased a pistol, Springfield XDS 9 mm. She and Amy decided to keep him on her side of the bed, and went on a date to a shooting gallery.
Cottage Grove cops, from left to right: Captains Gwen Martin and Randy McAllister, detectives Terry Raymond and Jared Landcamer
on July 31 Amy called Silky in dismay: she received two anonymous email threats over the past week. Silky came to the Alvine house, where Stephen printed these emails and listened to Amy explain to the agents what had happened.
The first letter came from an anonymous remailer from Austria. There, in particular, was the following:
Amy, I still blame you for ruining my life. I see that you have set up a security system, and people on the Internet have informed me that the police were interested in my previous letters. I was assured that the letters could not be traced, and that they would not find me, but I could not attack you directly while you were being watched.
And so, what will happen next. Since I cannot reach you, I will get to everything that is dear to you.
The email listed the contacts of Amy's relatives based on information available through the Radaris.com website, which provides subscribers with contact information on individuals and organizations. The author also indicated details known only to Amy's close people - the location of the gas meter on the Olvines house, that they changed the place where they put their SUV, the color of the T-shirt that their son wore two days ago. “This is how you can save your family,” it was written in the letter. “Commit suicide.” Further, the author listed various suitable methods.
A week later, a second anonymous letter arrived, where she was scolded for not following the recommendations. “Are you so selfish that you are ready to put your [sic] families at risk?”
Amy handed over her computer to the police, hoping that its contents would help agents track her potential killer. Stephen gave the agents his laptop and smartphone. The FBI made copies of devices, including applications, processes, and files, and returned them after a couple of days.
Amy gave Silkie the names of the people who trained in her arena, the owners of the animals she worked with, her best friend. The agent interviewed four of them and studied the credit histories of several of them. Few people benefited from Amy's death, however, since dogdaygod paid several thousand dollars to kill her, a personal motive was involved. Moreover, the customer gave Yura instructions not to kill her husband. It was logical as a result to investigate the spouse. Cilky questioned Stephen, but it is unclear if he had done anything else besides this and a copy of his computer with the telephone. The FBI refused to comment on this incident, and the Cottage Grove police had little knowledge of the bureau. In addition, in order to take Raymond to the first interrogation and send him copies of threatening emails, the bureau no longer involved the local police.
Amy, meanwhile, was trying to cope with terrible threats. She entered the Citizens Academy courses, where citizens are told in detail about the work of the police department. In her statement, she wrote that she “wants to learn about the work of the police department, what they are doing there and how everything works.” The sergeant Gwen Martin, the host of the course, did not know about the life threats that Amy had received, and Amy didn’t share this with any of the other participants while they were training on the dash and taking fingerprints from a can of soda. Amy asked her to be attached to a K-9 officer [working with service dogs; in harmony with K-9 / canine - canine / approx. transl.] in his patrol, and with great enthusiasm talked about how the policeman shared with her advice on raising dogs and training on the trail.
However, Amy still felt helpless. Periodic headaches became more frequent, she started having memory problems. Teaching, she behaved confidently, but she was worried that her aggressor might be among her students.
One summer evening, she was sitting in the yard with her sister and thinking about who was responsible for the gloomy atmosphere that enveloped her life. Many years ago, when her sister started college, Amy sent her cards every week so that she would not miss home. Now her sister, in response to the gesture, did the same, and in every postcard she quoted the Bible.
One afternoon on Saturday, November, Stephen and Amy went to church with their son. The road went through a flood plain east of the Mississippi, through yellowing farm fields, areas littered with auto parts and hollows, overgrown with trees that had already dropped foliage. The United Church of God rented a room in a red brick building from a local congregation of Methodists. There was something befitting a moment in the asceticism of the surroundings, as if the devil alone could be restrained by architectural minimalism.
In the chapel, the family sat with men in jackets, women in modest dresses, and children with freshly combed hair. Pastor Brian Shaw, standing under daylight breaking through a glass roof, recited a warning from the New Testament about people who “have eyes full of lust and ceaseless sin.” He spoke of Job, who trained not to look at women with lust. The reckoning that a person does not follow Job’s example is serious: “When we do not control our sinful nature, it controls us.”
On Sunday, Stephen woke up shortly before 6 am, as usual, and went down to his office in the basement, where he logged into the Optanix system to get started. At noon, he went upstairs to dine with Amy and his son. Amy, as an avid culinary specialist, baked in the cooker a part of the pumpkin left over from the dessert that she made a couple of days ago. Soon after, she felt weak and dizzy.
Amy's father came to her to install a dog door in the garage. Stephen told him that Amy was bad and she was resting in the bedroom. Her father left without ever seeing her. Five minutes after his departure, Stephen called him and asked him to return, pick up his grandson, because he allegedly wanted to take Amy to the clinic.
At sunset, Stephen went to refuel, picked up the boy from his wife’s parents and took him to the Kalvers family restaurant chain. It was their Sunday tradition — dinner at the Calvers, while Amy teaches in training courses. They sat in a brightly lit room, eating chicken and smoked cheese.
Upon returning home, the boy jumped out of the minivan and ran into the house, in the parents' bedroom. There, in an unnatural pose, Amy's body lay, and a pool of blood accumulated around her head. Nearby lay Springfield XDS 9 mm.
Stephen called 911. “I think my wife shot herself,” he said. “There's a lot of blood.”
City Hall Cottage Grove, where the police department is located
Sergeant Gwen Martin arrived at the house a few minutes after calling 911. When she saw Amy's body on the floor, she remembered how she trained her on the Civil Academy program and burst into tears. Another sergeant got down to business, and Martin returned to the car. Having mastered herself, she turned to the laptop on the panel and launched a search for calls to the police at this address. She was amazed to find a report in which Terry Raymond described Amy's life threats coming from the darkweb. Martin picked up the phone and called Detective Randy McAllister, who led the investigation at Cottage Grove.
McAllister was a 47-year-old owner of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle and a little childish face. He often participated in office rallies. On his coffee mug was written "because of the confidentiality of my work, I have no idea what I'm doing." However, his cheerful behavior hid a meticulous nature. About ten years ago, Makalister was investigating a murder in a nearby town; his wife’s former partner killed a couple in their home while their children were hiding in the house. Shortly before, a woman was telling the police that her jealous ex had contacted her in violation of a court order. McAllister was disappointed that the system could not help that woman, and launched his own program to protect potential victims from stalking and targeted violence. Hearing Raymond mention the threats Amy got from darkweb, he suggested comparing them with the threat database stored in the FBI's behavioral analysis department; this could help them compile a profile of a potential intruder. But he did not have authority in this case.
Now he was in a hurry to the Alvine house. Entering through the garage, he immediately smelled the upcoming pumpkin from the cooker. It seemed strange to him; usually people don’t start cooking before killing themselves. There were other inconsistencies: bloody traces on both sides of the bedroom door. And although the floor in the hallway was strewn with dog hair, the hall adjacent to it was clean.
While Makalister was waiting for the arrival of a forensic expert and criminal investigators, a police officer took Stephen and his son to the police station. Raymond took Stephen to the same interrogation room, where he and Silkie met Amy five months ago, while his colleague looked after the boy in the rest room. Raymond took out a pair of latex gloves and took a Step Smear from his mouth for a DNA test. “Will you also take this from your wife’s parents?” Asked Stephen. “No, only you and your son,” Raymond said. He asked Stephen to tell how he spent the day.
Stephen collaborated with a policeman, but Raymond thought that he was somehow unnatural for a man who had just lost his wife. He reminded the detective that Amy had a file at the FBI; he said her computer behaved strangely. “It annoys me, as a representative of the IT industry, because I know how everything should work in the legal world,” he said, and added: “I don’t know anything about hacking and the like.”
Over the next three days, investigators combed the scene of the crime. Technologists sprayed luminol on the floor and turned off the light. Where luminol interacted with blood or purifiers, it glowed bright blue. The glow showed that the corridor was being cleaned. He also highlighted several tracks leading into the bedroom from the laundry room and back.
Cottage Grove police enforced a house search warrant. Makalister settled himself at a table in the dining room, and copied the evidence. Raymond went down to Stephen’s office in the basement. Entering, he saw that all surfaces are lined with trash: folders, tangled wires, external drives, SD cards, as well as a voice recorder and Fitbit. There were hard drives of the kind that had not been used for ten years. There were three monitors and a MacBook Pro on Steven’s desk — it wasn’t the computer he gave to the FBI.
The police pulled the booty upstairs, and then, in turn, gave it to Makalister for logging. Damn it, he thought as he watched the equipment accumulate. And then "oh my god, as much as you can." However, the devices all arrived and arrived. In total there were sixty six.
Since the crime was related to death in the city, the investigation was conducted under the supervision of the Cottage Grove police. Two and a half weeks after Amy's death, the FBI sent her file. Opening the documents, Makalister and Raymond saw - for the first time - a complete correspondence with Besa Mafia. It was then that they learned that the nickname of the person who wanted Amy to die was dogdaygod.
By that time, Stephen was already among the suspects, but there was no evidence linking him to the murder. What his DNA was everywhere was hardly surprising: it was his home. The security video was not unusual, although the recordings were incomplete. Stephen explained that he and Amy did not turn on the camera above the sliding glass door because their dogs were constantly passing through it. McAllister hoped to find answers in devices brought by Raymond from the Alvine cellar.
As soon as Besa Mafia files appeared in pastebin, bloggers immediately decided that the site was fraudulent. One by one, Jura’s clients complained that the killings they ordered were not executed. However, Makalister did not want to take anything on faith. He and Detective Jared Landcamera identified ten other targets from Besa Mafia orders in the United States and contacted police stations at their place of residence. This could give them new clues in their business, or perhaps save other lives.
Makalister distributed work with electronics. He sent computers to a forensic specialist at a nearby police station. Landkamer received judicial permission to access the Olvain emails - and spent many days reading them. Raymond began by extracting data from Stephen's phones. In a windowless room, where office monitors were lined up along the walls, he ran software that sorted data — applications, calls history — and reconstructed the device’s timeline. On the phone that Stephen gave the FBI to take the copy, Raymond found Orfox and Orbot needed to access the Tor network. He also found text messages containing confirmation codes from the LocalBitcoins site. Either the FBI missed them, or did not attach importance.
After checking Amy's phone, he saw that on the day of death, her consciousness gradually became more and more confused. At 13:48 she went to the Wikipedia page on vertigo. At 13:49 she wrote the word DUY in a search engine. Then in a minute EYE. Then DIY VWHH. It looked like she was desperate to understand why the room was spinning around her, but could not write the words in the search engine.
During an interrogation with a state investigator, Stephen admitted to having an affair with Woodard. Raymond found Michelle’s contact on Stephen’s phone, and when investigators questioned Woodard, she told them about dinner on her birthday when Stephen wrote to her that he had locked the keys in the car, buying bitcoins. Stephen's call history confirmed that he called for roadside assistance that day from Wendis in Minneapolis. Detectives used text messages with confirmation codes to find his LocalBitcoins account. This led them to correspond with the seller about the exchange for $ 6,000.
In the devices of Stephen, Landkamer found additional emails, from which the usernames of the users under whom he went to Backpage and LonelyMILFS.com became known. This in itself was not a crime, but spoke of a possible motive.
Hiding most of the criminal activity, Stephen did not delete the search history. On February 16, a few minutes before the first offer from dogdaygod to kill Amy in Moline, Stephen searched Google for “moline il” on his MacBook Pro. A day later, he studied their insurance. In July, shortly before Amy received her first threatening email address listing contacts from the Radaris site, he visited pages on that site that were relevant to her family members.
At Cottage Grove, killings were rare, and detectives, faced with indirect evidence and the dodgy character of the darkweb, were deeply involved in this affair. One evening, lying in bed after reading a file from the FBI on Amy, Landkamer searched Google for dogdaygod. Seeing the results, he called his wife. The search engine indexed several pages from the Dream Market website, a drugweb online drug store.
Landkamer immediately sent a message about the finds to Makalister. Makalister launched Tor and opened correspondence with Dream Market. In one thread, dogdaygod asked if anyone had scopolamine on sale.powerful medicine. Makalister worked as a medical assistant, so he knew that scopolamine is prescribed for motion sickness, but it can also make people compliant and cause amnesia, for which he received the nickname "The Devil's Breath." Scrolling through the pages, he came across a comment by a user who decided that dogdaygod wanted to use scopolamine for personal entertainment. “There is a salesman,” he wrote, “but you better fuck that shit, buddy.” It’s dangerous kapets, and you can kill someone. "
Amy later confirmed the presence of scopolamine when analyzing Amy's stomach contents. However, the most valuable evidence was obtained due to the peculiarities of creating backup copies of Apple devices. A forensic IT specialist from a neighboring site discovered a message in the archives of Stephen's MacBook Pro containing a bitcoin address that appeared on his iPhone in March 2016. This happened 23 seconds before dogdaygod wrote Jura the same 34-digit wallet code. 40 seconds after sending the message to Jura, the message from Stephen’s phone was deleted. But the deleted file does not disappear until other files take its place. A few months later, when Stephen backed up the phone via iTunes, an important story was saved on the laptop.
Makalister rejoiced. Detectives linked the offline identity of Stephen, a church elder concerned about the acceptability of the dance steps, with the online ones, Don Juan and the failed potential killer. The tempting anonymity of the darkweb, urging Stephen to a crime, gave him a sense of omnipotence. He could not understand that this ability was not transmitted to the ordinary web and to the real world.
Stephen Alvine is currently imprisoned in a Minnesota prison in Oak Park Heights.
The trial of Steven Alvine lasted eight days. District attorneys presented a number of vivid witnesses: a pawnshop manager, where Stephen sold silver, an Iowa escort employee from Backpage, and Woodard. Makalister showed the murder weapon in court, and Jared Landkamer explained to the court the meaning of the abbreviation MILF, which later became an endless reason for jokes at the police station.
Prosecutors Fred Fink and Jamie Krauser used evidence to build the theory: Stephen poisoned Amy with a large dose of scopolamine to either kill her or immobilize her. But, although she was dizzy and did not feel well, she did not die. So Stephen shot her with their gun in the hallway. Then he moved the body to the bedroom and washed off the blood. When he went to a gas station and took his son to the Calvers, he kept his checks just in case.
The jury deliberated for six hours, and then convicted Stephen. On February 2, he was brought to the courtroom to pronounce the verdict. Each of his family members and friends present told the judge how much Amy meant to them. Then Stephen rose to appeal to the court.
Breathing heavily, he tried to reject technical evidence related to file backups and bitcoin wallets. Then he switched to his spiritual merits. In the prison, where he was held for the duration of the trial, he preached to drug addicts and child molesters. He said that he had converted at least three unbelievers.
“Mr. Alvine,” the judge said, after listening to his speech, “my feelings will not change the verdict in this case. But according to my feelings, you are an incredible actor. You can cause tears and stop them. You are a hypocrite and a cold person. ” The judge sentenced him to life imprisonment without the right to parole (now the case has been sent to the court of appeal). From the next room, Makalister through the window watched Raymond and Landkamer, listening with satisfaction to the reprimand of the judge to the defendant. However, his feelings were overshadowed. McAllister understood why, during an FBI investigation into darkweb, Stephen might not have aroused suspicion. Stephen’s relationship with Amy seemed happy, they did not have a history of violence or the use of illegal drugs. He knew that a retroactive judgment could influence the conclusions of investigators, but he also had a feeling that Amy's death could have been prevented. Threat experts use a four-point list to assess the likelihood that an anonymous villain is a close person to the victim. In the case of Amy, all four were carried out: a person followed her movements, obviously, lived nearby, knew her habits and plans for the future, and spoke about her with disgust or contempt.
Within a few months after the trial, Makalister was promoted to captain. He periodically advises police departments on darkweb crimes. No other deaths were related to Besa Mafia's clients, however, Jura reportedly opened other fraudulent sites allegedly related to contract killings: Crime Bay, Sicilian Hitmen, Cosa Nostra. It seemed that Yura was a devil, watching from afar, and grinning at how the seeds thrown by him emerged and turned into a complete evil.