QR Codes: Tatted Up Walls

“What is this? What am I looking at?” Kim nearly shouted.

“It’s for my podcast.”

Kim watched the video for thirty seconds.

“You picked up on what we discovered weeks ago, kid. Nice job, but please leave it to the professionals.”

“Did you tie the tattoos to the graffiti on tenth street?” Yawquisha asked.

Kim looked at the young woman for a long time. “You said what?”

Yawquisha fast forwarded to the QR Code spray painted on the wall that she captured on her podcast.

“How many people see this every night?” Kim asked.

“About forty thousand. It’s mainly in the tristate area. People come to the sites to make their own sleuthing realities come alive,” Yawquisha explained.

“Okay. First, you can’t be showing up on police scenes unauthorized. I’m going to deputize you. This seems like some good stuff but I’m going to need you to ride along with me.”

“Thanks for the offer, Detective.I have to do this on my lonely. I’ll stop trespassing scenes, though.”

“C’mon. You and I can crack these codes much quicker. I’ve got former training in this area and you’ve got gumption and a keen mind for spreading information in order to nab whoever is doing these killings.”

Yawquisha looked down and then looked at Kim in the face. “I will ride along with you but my cover can’t be blown. I refuse to wear any kind of nametag other than YO.”

“Okay deal,” the bumped fists. “You can get inside, it’s unlocked.”

The two women rolled through the streets of Wilmington. Their eyes were in different directions. Kim’s were on the streets and peering at buildings for codes. Yawquisha’s eyes darted all over her smartphone. She dug in her knapsack and put on a mask.

“What are you doing your podcast now or finna hitta liq in a govvie?”

“I’ve gotta log this.”

“Log what?”

Yawquisha pointed to a white QR Code on the side of a brick building.

Kim’s mouth was agape. “Shit I didn’t even—” Yawquisha then leapt from the car at a red light.

“Wait! Jesus, this kid!” Kin pulled into the lot. Yawquisha snapped shots and uploaded them to her social media sites.

Kim got out of the car.

“So, you mean to tell me that there’s a connection to the vics and their tattoos and these codes as well?”

“I’ve been trying.”

Kim looked around. She looked for foot traffic. None could be found in the grassy area. She looked for anything: broken bottles, coins, bandanas. Anything. She looked at the QR Code on Yawquisha’s screen. It showed two masked men with pistols with extended clips. They bounced around while making fentanyl. Kim couldn’t make out the music, like it was a code also.

“What’re they saying in the song?”

“Nothing, really. Just money, hoes, and clothes. Nigger shit.”

“And the codes, how many places do they exist around the city?”

Yawquisha shrugged. Could be a few, a dozen, a score,” said.

“If we’ve got these all over the city, we’re going to need a team of cryptologists to—”

“Why, when you’ve got me?”

“If you don’t bolt into traffic again, you may be of some use. There may even be a cash reward involved.”

“I do want the money,” Yawquisha replied.

“Most kids your age don’t care about it.”

“I value the EagleCoin.”

“Of course. Someone involved with codes would favor cryptocurrency,” Kim sighed.

“Look if you can’t—”

“It’s alright. I’ll pay you in whatever you want. We just need to find these assholes before shit gets thicker. I’ve got unis on patrol in search of rappers. I never thought I’d say that in Wilmington, Delaware. You throw a stick and you’ll hit one. Or you used to be able to do that. Now, these QR Code gangs must cease.”