by N C Mander
‘So, it’s you who cover those relationships?’
‘For that particular fund, yes. It’s a relatively complex product, so I like to make sure I brief the clients personally. That should tick your little “know your customer” box.’
Edison didn’t allow himself to rise to the other man’s baiting. Calmly, he paused and flicked through the papers the poor admin had brought through. He looked up and continued, ‘And the anti-money laundering box, how do you go about ticking that little box?’
‘Compliance deal with that,’ David said, reddening a little.
Edison felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and his thoughts flew to the trap he’d hidden in the trading algorithm for Colin to monitor. ‘Ok,’ Edison picked up the papers, and tapping them on the table, ‘I think that’s all clear.’ David looked taken aback by the abrupt conclusion to the meeting. ‘I’ll let you get back to your cistern issues.’
In the men’s bathrooms, Edison dialled Thames House. ‘What have you got for me?’ he asked when Colin answered.
‘Two hundred and thirty-seven Ethereum landed in an offline wallet just moments ago. Things have gone dark, but I’ll let you know as soon as anything changes.’
‘Cheers.’ Edison hung up, tingling with excitement. The game was afoot. The hacker hadn’t spotted his carefully camouflaged code when he’d copied and edited it. He needed to get onto the server.
Edison slipped back into Steven Edward’s shoes as he arrived on the fifteenth floor, affecting an air of calm although his heart was racing. He logged onto his machine and began to dig into the log repository. Clean. ‘Damn,’ he muttered.
‘Everything ok?’ Anna said.
‘Oh, sorry. Yeah, just missed a call from a former colleague who was going to give the low-down on what’s changing with the regulation of autonomous trading strategies.’
‘I’m sure he’ll call back,’ was Anna’s vanilla response.
With some effort, Edison banished the thoughts of where the Ethereum would surface – there was nothing he could do until either Jamie made a move or Colin called him back – and made himself a strong cup of tea before turning his attention to the reams of names and numbers on the papers David’s put-upon admin had printed.
Listed were all the positions on each of the four funds that Tom’s team managed. Next to each name was a column with a two or three-figure value in it. Edison checked the column header and confirmed that the number was the value in thousands of pounds of that investment. Next, there was a column with a date, indicating the age of the commitment. Edison started by skimming through the infrastructure, emerging market currency and alternatives fund investors but found nothing noteworthy amongst the names of familiar pension funds, insurance companies and private banks. With a more forensic eye, he began to comb through the list of investors for the crypto fund. The list was longer and the investments smaller. As he went, he highlighted any names that could possibly link to the case. At the end of each page, he ran them through Google. They all returned a legitimate private bank or family office in Dubai, Riyadh or Qatar.
He completed his first pass and looked up to catch Anna peering at him from behind her screen. She looked away quickly then, feigning a thought coming to her, she said, ‘I knew there was something I wanted to ask you, Steven. I’m organising a team dinner on Thursday. An amazing Turkish restaurant just off Brick Lane. Let me know if you can make it.’
‘Oh, ok, will do,’ Edison replied.
‘I’ll send you an email,’ Anna said, then added as much to herself as to Edison. ‘Email seems to be the only way to get anyone’s attention round here.’
Edison turned his attention back to the list and decided to take another look. He let out a long breath. On the third page was a familiar name. How had he missed it first time around? He underlined the name three times and stared at it. His mind raced. This couldn’t be a coincidence. He felt his body shiver. What had he got himself into?
His inner debate was interrupted as Jamie announced to no one in particular, ‘I’m really not feeling too well still, I’m going to shoot off.’ Hastily he buried a memory drive into the rucksack at his feet, just like the previous day, and swung it onto his back. He surveyed his colleagues sheepishly as though waiting for one of them to stop him, and when no one did, he hurried toward the lifts.
Billy looked after him. ‘Feel better,’ he said before returning his attention to the problem that had been absorbing him all day.
Edison watched Jamie leave and pulled up the departure times for the outbound trains on both the Jubilee Line and DLR. If Jamie were to head home, he would most likely board the Jubilee line west. Edison calculated the walk to the station would take between four and six minutes. He thought it unlikely that Jamie would risk a run. If he did, Edison’s efforts to track him were doomed for the second day in a row. As it would be if he didn’t take the Jubilee line, but he tried to bury thoughts of failure and losing his mark. Jamie would miss the next two trains, by Edison’s reckoning, which gave him eleven minutes to get down to the platform.
Edison retreated to the men’s toilets where that morning, he had stuffed a holdall. His heart beating fast, he exchanged his smart brogues for a pair of comfortable trainers. He retrieved a black baseball cap and lightweight jacket from the bag and was reminded of David’s wife as he shoved it back behind the cistern. He slipped out of the toilets, feeling glad that there was no direct line of sight from the team’s desks, and made his way to the fire exit that led to the stairwell. He leapt down the stairs two at a time, feeling the comfortable weight of his Glock 26 against his inside thigh.
Appreciating the cover that his training shoes and cap afforded him, he ran to the tube station. As he crossed Canada Square, he pulled out his mobile and speed-dialled Kat over a secure VOIP line. To Edison, it felt like she answered before the call had even connected, let alone rung.
‘Edison,’ she said, there was a glimmer of concern, a slight quiver, in her familiar, businesslike tone, ‘is he on the move?’
Edison sprinted toward the yawning entrance of the tube station, talking to Kat as he went. ‘Yes, he left the office about five minutes ago. I’m tracking him to the tube.’
‘He’s not on his bike then?’
‘No, thankfully. Is Colin keeping tabs on the money?’
‘Listen,’ Kat spoke matter-of-factly and with a menacing authority. She ignored Edison’s question. ‘You’re to keep your distance, Edison. Advise on his destination as soon as it’s clear, and I’ll have a team with you.’
‘Kat, don’t worry about the obs team.’ Edison let exasperation creep into his voice. The two of them had run this scenario multiple times earlier in the day. ‘All I’m likely to need is one of the guys ready to run traces on the money. Is Colin keeping an eye on my flags?’
At Thames House, Kat looked over to where Colin was manipulating browser windows and reams of code across three different screens. He gave her a thumbs up. ‘Yes, he’s all set.’
Edison had reached the bank of escalators that would take him underground to the cavernous ticket hall. ‘Keep me updated. Got to go, Kat,’ he said without breaking step.
‘Edison do not …’ the signal cut out before Edison found out what Kat was forbidding him from doing.
The week of dieting had made some difference, and he moved quickly but still arrived at the ticket barrier breathless. He waved his Oyster Card, and the gates parted. At the top of the next set of escalators, Edison heard a train rattle into the station. He sprinted, taking the steps two at a time. The train doors opened as Edison stepped off the escalator. The platform was sparsely populated. He looked around. A woman with a buggy, two builders and a handful of office workers waited patiently. At the front of the train, he spotted Jamie, looking agitated as a few passengers pushed past him to make their way off the train. He barged his way on before the last of the alighting passengers had made the platform and disappeared from view. Edison was confident that his mark hadn’t spo
tted him, but he zipped up the jacket and pulled the collar up around his neck anyway.
There was a beep of the closing doors, and Edison hurried along the platform – his target being the penultimate carriage, one along from where Jamie had boarded. Edison just made it through the doors as they swooshed shut behind him. A tinny recorded voice came over the PA system, advising passengers that the train would terminate at Stanmore. The next station would be Canada Water. Edison swayed his way down the aisle to position himself as close to the end window as he dared. His mark had taken a seat in the next carriage.
Jamie, his rucksack on his lap, clasped closely to his chest, looked impatient. His knee jiggled, his head bowed. At each stop, he looked up before returning his gaze to the floor.
At London Bridge, he quickly stood up and jumped off the train, elbowing his way through the crowds of people waiting to get on. Edison got off and pretended to consider the plethora of exit options signposted whilst Jamie made a beeline in the direction of the Northern Line. To be expected, thought Edison, if he’s on his way home. Edison jostled his way through the crowds, his height affording him a good view of his retreating target over the heads of the throngs of tourists and office workers. As Jamie ascended the stairs, he paused momentarily and looked back, scanning the crowds below. Edison buried his chin in his chest, relieved when Jamie turned and ploughed on.
Edison lost Jamie in the crowds that were surging toward the Northern Line. A train was arriving at the southbound platform as Edison made his way down the stairs. He didn’t know whether Jamie had gone left or right. Left, and he would be boarding the southbound train in moments. Right, and Edison would find him waiting on the platform. Edison gambled that Jamie was still heading home and turned left. He arrived on the platform in time to see Jamie stepping onto a carriage in the centre of the train. Edison jumped through the nearest doors and was on board just as they slid closed.
Contravening the instructions pasted on the windows, he opened the interconnecting doors between the carriages and moved through the train. Eventually, he was in the carriage next to Jamie, and observed him from behind a copy of the Metro he’d grabbed on his way through London Bridge.
At Elephant & Castle, as Edison predicted, Jamie alighted the train. He took the lift to street level whilst Edison puffed his way up one hundred and seventeen stairs. A wall of sound hit Edison as he emerged at the top of the echoing spiral staircase. The traffic screamed past the exit of the tube station, and the pavement was busy with people waiting for one of the many buses that stopped there.
Edison looked about, orienting himself. He was on the south side of Elephant & Castle. Behind him was the 1980s monolithic shopping centre that was always on the brink of being demolished but never seemed to meet the bulldozers. Edison was just through the ticket barriers when two things happened at once. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and the lift carrying Jamie arrived at the ticket hall. A tidal wave of people spilled out and filed toward the ticket barriers.
Edison ducked behind a pillar and buried his nose in his phone as Jamie made his way, blinking into the daylight. He barely paused as he exited the station, turning right and striding purposefully through the crowds.
Edison fired off a message to Kat. The buzzing had been her urgent requests for updates, arriving as his phone reconnected to the 3G network. At Elephant & Castle. Suspect going home. – he advised her. He knew Jamie rented a flat in one of the new developments on Newington Causeway. He had left the station in that direction. Having hopefully satisfied Kat’s need for an update, he looked up in time to see Jamie disappearing around the corner.
The day was overcast, and heavy clouds threatened rain. Edison dashed to where he’d last seen his mark, unsuspecting pedestrians skittled out of his way as he ploughed through the crowds.
At a crossing, Edison clocked Jamie, walking down the road opposite. He glanced left and right before hurrying out in front of the oncoming traffic. He ignored the expletives from irate drivers. A lorry’s horn screamed at him when it narrowly avoided hitting him. Edison held his breath, focused on Jamie, praying the kafuffle hadn’t drawn his attention. But he continued to trudge in the direction of a new-build block of flats.
At the entrance, Jamie swiped a key fob, and the sliding doors parted. He went inside.
Edison pulled out his phone and dialled. ‘Where are you?’ Kat said without a greeting.
‘Outside his flat. Did you get the floor plans?’
‘Yes,’ Kat said, referring to the architect’s plans sourced from the council’s website earlier that morning. ‘He’s on the third floor, flat 3C. I reckon you should have a view of his main room from Gaunt Street.’
‘Thanks. Heading there now.’
‘I’m on my way.’
‘Anything else from Colin?’ Edison asked hopefully.
‘Not yet, but if Jamie’s only just got back, he’s not likely to have logged on yet.’
Edison grunted a non-committal response. ‘I’ll see you on Gaunt Street then.’
‘Yes.’ Kat hung up. Edison found a spot across the road from Jamie’s block of flats from where he had a view directly into Jamie’s kitchenliving room. The young man whom Edison had tailed across London appeared in the room, switching on the light. He dropped his bag by the door, removed his shoes and padded around the kitchen island in his socks. He pulled a beer from the fridge, opened it then returned to his rucksack to retrieve the memory stick. Edison held his breath. Was he wrong? Was the memory stick hosting an offline wallet stuffed full of illicitly gained Ethereum? Swigging his beer and twiddling the drive between his fingers, he crossed the room and picked up a laptop. Edison watched him power-up then slip the USB drive into one of the ports.
Edison held his breath. The blue light flickered across Jamie’s face. He took a swig of the beer held in one hand and manipulated the trackpad on the laptop with the other. Edison’s phone vibrated with an incoming secure line call.
‘Edison, it’s Colin,’ Colin said when Edison answered.
‘Our target’s just gone online. Has the Ethereum surfaced?’ Edison asked, glancing up at figure with a laptop on his lap in the flat.
‘Uh huh, two hundred and thirty-seven Ethereum came back online about three minutes ago.’
‘That’s a result. Can you confirm where?’
‘Tracing it now. Needless to say, the IP has been bounced around a lot.’
Edison fidgeted as he waited for Colin. He pictured the scene on the Grid now. The office he’d shared with Natalie, Kat and Colin. A big screen dominated one wall which they rarely used. They preferred the whiteboard, on the opposite side of the room, to record their movements on operations the old-fashioned way. Colin sat behind three enormous monitors, he would now be hunched over his keyboard, tapping furiously, trying to trace the port where the money had reconnected with the blockchain.
‘Yes,’ Colin hissed into his headset. ‘Gotcha.’
‘Where?’
‘Interesting,’ Colin mused.
‘Come on, Colin.’ Edison replied, his patience waning.
‘Not far from you.’
‘But not Jamie’s flat?’
‘Sorry, Ed. It’s reconnected somewhere in the Elephant & Castle shopping centre.’
‘Shit, he’s not our man. Can you pinpoint it any more than that?’ Edison had already abandoned his post watching Jamie and was moving in a long, loping run, back in the direction of the shopping centre.
‘All right, I’ve managed to locate their router,’ Colin said, ‘but it’s heavily protected. Three levels of encryption and a firewall, the kind of thing you’d expect from your average investment bank.’
‘Can you get into the firmware?’ Edison asked, taking a short flight of stairs two at a time. He found himself among market stalls selling fruit, vegetables and knock-off DVDs.
‘It’s taking time, I’m almost there,’ Colin reassured him.
Edison willed Colin to get through the complicated process as he wended
his way through the tightly packed stalls. Fingers of light shone through the makeshift awnings. The stallholders haggled with customers and shouted their wares loudly to passers-by. Edison stuck a finger in the ear that wasn’t clamped to his mobile phone. ‘There must be a way in,’ Edison muttered. ‘Nothing is watertight, no matter how hard you try.’
There was silence on the line as Edison headed toward the shopping centre which towered above the market stalls. He pulled open a grubby glass door and entered a wide corridor, lined on either side with discount stores. ‘Open sesame!’ Colin said. ‘I’m in. Ok, ok, bear with me.’ He heard Colin’s fingers clattering across the keyboard.
‘Listen, Colin, I’m in the mall. Cross-reference the Wi-Fi network with the GPS data. That should give me a location to within about ten metres.’
‘Ok, pinging that to you now.’
‘Thanks. I’m going to have to go.’
‘Ok, Edison. Stay safe.’
‘Will do. I’ll call for an update on the money once I know what’s going on here.’ Edison navigated, via his map app, to the red pin Colin had sent him. He passed a greasy spoon which was the source of the smell of frying that pervaded the place and came to a halt opposite the café. He had stopped where the parade of shops intersected another at a T-junction. A staircase led shoppers to the upper floor and, as a faded sign promised, to the bowling alley. Edison evaluated each of the concessions nearby, but nothing jumped out at him as being the likely hub for the digital transfer of the cryptocurrency.
The noise of the bowling alley echoed through the shopping centre and got louder as Edison climbed the stairs. He stopped at the top, adopting a nonchalant pose of a bored shopper. He observed a dark blue sign, picked out in garish green lettering, hanging above a grimy window that made up the frontage of a small store. It read ‘Continental Internet Café’. The window was bedecked with handwritten notices and offers promising punters ‘Superfast conneshions’, ‘State of the art computer’s’ and ‘Best Turkish coffee’.