by Sara Rosett
32
Jack looked around the trashed hotel room. “Kaz did all this and took the decoy painting?”
“I couldn’t believe it either. I had no idea he was in Madrid.” Zoe handed him her phone with an image from the video. “This is what he looks like—in case, he pops up unexpectedly again.”
Jack studied the image for a few seconds. “Kaz being here in Madrid raises a lot of questions.”
“Like how long has he been here? And did he have anything to do with the attack on Luis?” Zoe paced to the window and looked outside at the increasing foot traffic along the street. It had been fairly quiet when she arrived back at the hotel, but now siesta was over.
Zoe let the curtain fall back into place. “It doesn’t make sense that Kaz would attack Luis. I was all set to bring the painting to Kaz. Why would Kaz need to attack Luis? Thacker even told me to contact Kaz when my plane landed. I would have delivered the painting to Kaz so he could pass it on to Thacker. Kaz could have arranged it so that he had some time to remove the flash drive before he handed the painting off to Thacker.”
“Then Kaz must have some other reason for being here in Madrid,” Jack said.
“Thacker said Kaz was on vacation,” Zoe said. “Maybe he just happened to come to Madrid?”
They both shook their heads. Jack said, “Too much of a coincidence, I think.”
“I agree,” Zoe said. “If Kaz planned to be here for vacation, why wouldn’t he just offer to pick up the painting for Thacker in the first place? They didn’t need me, if Kaz was scheduled to travel here.” Zoe paced across the room, stepping around the debris of sheets and scattered clothes. “And what are we going to do about this meeting tonight? Gloria thinks we’re going to show up and hand over the flash drive to someone. After you sent me the picture of her and Jug Ears, I assumed it was Jug Ears who would be at the hand-off tonight, but now that we know Kaz was looking for the painting, I’m not sure what’s going on.”
A knock at the door startled them both. Zoe was closest to the door and looked out the peephole, her heart suddenly pounding along in time with the repeated thumping on the door. “It’s Chief Inspector Munez.”
Jack twitched the curtain. “A police car just parked in front of the hotel.” Jack ran his gaze over the window. “These windows don’t open, and even if they did, there’s no balcony or decorative moldings to hold onto. It’s a straight drop.”
“You’re not just saying that so we don’t have to go out the window?” Zoe said with a quick smile.
“I promise my dislike of heights has in no way impacted my analysis of the situation.”
“And the bathroom window is tiny. I could probably get my foot out, but nothing else.”
The banging sounded again. “¡Policía!”
Jack said. “I’m sure the manager will open the door soon, if we don’t.”
“Okay.” Zoe cast a quick glance over the trashed room. There was no way Munez would think they were just messy, but they couldn’t make it presentable in a few seconds either. “Cover story for this mess?”
“The truth is always the best—an intruder got in and ransacked the place. Must have been looking for valuables. No need to say what valuables.”
“Somehow, I think Munez won’t forget to ask that, but maybe we can convince him it was just a run-of-the-mill incident. It looks like it’s our only option.” Zoe took a deep breath and opened the door.
A uniformed police officer accompanied Chief Inspector Munez, but as soon as Zoe opened the door, he stepped back and waited in the hall. Munez said, “Mrs. Andrews—” He scanned the disordered room. “It appears you have had a little trouble.”
“You could say that.”
“Then it is fortunate I’m here,” Munez said. He looked expectantly toward Jack. “And who is this?”
“My husband, Jack Andrews,” Zoe said.
Munez inclined his head. “Pleased to meet you.” He waved a hand around, indicating the hotel room. “When did this happen?”
“This afternoon while we were out.”
“Yes, you went to speak to your embassy,” Munez said. “I can see you are surprised that I know of your movements, but you shouldn’t be. They told you that your message would be passed along to the appropriate person. I am the appropriate person to speak to about the issue you brought to them—the hack.”
This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. Zoe had figured it would take quite a while to get past the state of the hotel room, but Munez had skimmed right over it as if it didn’t matter. Had the U.S. Embassy really been in contact with Munez? Had Mr. Clement actually passed their information on to someone with authority? And that someone had contacted Munez?
Zoe glanced at Jack, who was standing at ease, his hip propped against the desk, and his hands in his pockets. Zoe was sure she didn’t look as relaxed as he did, but forced herself not to grip her hands together. Jack lifted one shoulder a millimeter, a movement that only Zoe saw, but she knew it meant Jack wasn’t sure about Munez either.
“The hack?” Zoe asked. “What do you mean?”
Munez said, “Please, let’s not waste time. I know you have come into possession of a valuable piece of…computer programming, shall we call it? Your actions of going to your embassy have convinced me that you are not on the criminal side of the equation in this situation. You talked with a Mr. Gerald V. Clement. He passed on the information that you’d found a zero-day hack. His supervisor handed it ‘up-the-chain’ I believe you would say. A colleague of mine received it. He contacted me because we have information regarding a zero-day hack that’s related to a current investigation. I hope we can cooperate so that this situation is resolved quickly. Then you can enjoy our lovely city and return home.”
Zoe glanced at Jack then back at Munez. Jack was studying Munez with an intensity that would make most people squirm, but Munez seemed to be completely unaware of Jack’s blistering gaze. Before either of them could say anything else, Munez went on. “Perhaps you’re wondering why the U.S. Embassy would contact me about your…ah…concerns? The answer is simple. I did not give you my full title when we met. I work for the UDYCO, which is the drugs and organized crime section of the National Police. My specialty is cybercrime. We are working with a group of agencies—an international group—including some from your country. I believe the word you would be familiar with is task force.”
Zoe asked, “Then why were you investigating the art theft? That’s pretty far from cybercrime.”
Munez took his phone from his pocket, tapped on it a few times, then turned the screen to Zoe. “Because a security camera caught this man disposing of the artwork after the theft.”
“That’s Jug Ears.”
The corners of Munez’s lips twitched. “An appropriate nickname. He works for a criminal organization, the Trullas gang. I have been monitoring them for several months. Anything he does interests me. I didn’t mention it to you because…well, rarely do I disclose all information in my possession to someone I am interviewing. But I also had to determine if you were connected with him and his criminal network, or if you were an innocent and had stumbled into something accidentally. At first, I thought that you were simply inadvertently caught up in this situation, but then…” he transferred his glance to Jack, “I received information about your husband’s background. Those facts, coupled with his arrival here…”
Munez shrugged. “I began to have more questions and had to rethink my assessment. But when I learned you’d contacted your embassy about turning over the computer program, I decided to drop by for a chat. The fact that you moved hotels without informing us delayed me slightly. But now that we are here together, we should make the most of the time, no?”
Zoe and Jack had used their passports to check into the new hotel. They were hiding from Jug Ears, not from Munez. It had probably only taken him a few minutes to search some sort of database to find them.
Zoe wasn’t sure they should trust Munez. What he said made
sense, and he did know about their trip to the embassy—names of who they’d spoken to and everything—but with so many surprises in the last few hours, Zoe felt skittish. Although, she did know Munez was with the police. She’d spoken to him at the police station. What Zoe wasn’t so sure about was the cybercrime task force thing. She raised an eyebrow at Jack. Cybercrime and all things diplomatic were his department.
Jack got the signal. He said to Munez, “I’m sure you understand that we’d like to verify your identity.”
“Of course. May I suggest you call your friend? Mr. Ash Hawker, wasn’t it? He helped you get your appointment at the embassy, correct? He’s been fully briefed and can pass you along to a Ms. Montclair, who will tell you all about me.”
33
Jack spent about twenty minutes on the phone. Munez was in the hall speaking to the police officer when Jack ended the call. Zoe hadn’t been able to pick up much from the few words she heard on Jack’s end of the conversation.
He slipped his phone into his pocket. “Ash vouched for Munez and then transferred the call to Ms. Montclair, who backed up everything Munez said. He’s working with an international task force, and the embassy would appreciate our complete cooperation with him.”
“Really?” Zoe asked. “That seems odd to me, that they’d hand us off to Munez.”
“Munez has authority to investigate and arrest—something that the embassy personnel can’t do here in Spain.”
“But what about the government wanting the information on the flash drive for themselves?” Zoe asked.
“That’s perplexing to me, too.”
“Allow me to explain,” a voice behind them said. Munez had returned to the room.
“Any information the task force recovers will be shared jointly among all members.”
So all sorts of governments will be able to spy on their citizens, not just one country, Zoe thought. She could see disapproval trace over Jack’s face. Munez must have seen it too, because he said quickly, “I assure you, the information you have is small compared to the scope of the investigation into the Trullas organization, which is linked to Russian organized crime. We are very close to bringing down the whole operation. They are involved in cybercrime—identity theft, ransomware, hacks such as the one you’ve discovered, and even child pornography—but other branches of the gang move drugs and smuggle people across borders. Several of the members of the group are also linked to known terrorists.” Munez had taken out his phone and tapped on it as he spoke. He handed it to Jack. “As you can see, just a search of the term ‘Trullas gang’ shows how extensive their reach is.”
Zoe looked over Jack’s shoulder as he scrolled down the list of links to stories from well-known news outlets with headlines about drugs, cybercrime, and human trafficking.
Jack’s mouth quirked down on one side. She knew that face. He wasn’t any happier with the situation than she was. “And this is why I left ‘diplomacy’ and went into security,” he said as he looked at Zoe, his face resigned.
She knew what he was thinking. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but it was what they had. Jack was all about working with the options that were available. He was practical and thought that they should work with Munez, despite the drawbacks. Zoe gave Jack a small nod to let him know she agreed. It wasn’t ideal—nothing about this situation was ideal—but being mixed up with Russian organized crime went way beyond anything they could deal with themselves. Jack seemed to suppress a sigh, then said to Munez, “We’ll do what we can to help you.”
“Excellent.” Munez looked into the hall where the police officer nodded to him. “I’ve arranged for us to use the manager’s office while your room is cleaned.” He waved a hand toward the door. “Shall we?”
Downstairs, the three of them barely fit into the cramped manager’s office. Munez ignored the flickering overhead light and the cold cup of tea alongside a stack of papers on the desktop. He focused with a single-minded concentration on Zoe and Jack as they told him everything that had happened.
When they finished, Munez dialed a number on his phone. While waiting for the call to connect he said, “First, we must make sure the child, Sophia, is with her abuela.”
He spoke into the phone in Spanish for a few minutes, then ended the call and placed his phone on top of his notepad, which was now covered with his handwriting. He’d slipped on his glasses as he made notes, but now he removed them and rubbed his eyes. “Next, we must consider the alliance of Gloria and Fossa.”
“Fossa?” Zoe asked.
“The man you call Jug Ears—he is Tomás Fossa.”
“It will be hard for me to think of him as anything but Jug Ears,” Zoe said.
“I imagine so,” Munez said. “Fossa is one of several people from the Trullas gang that we have been ‘keeping tabs on,’ as you would say. I studied at a university in your country. That is where I learned your expressions.” He smiled briefly, then turned grave. “While Fossa is not the top man, he is one of the most important people I’m tracking.”
“Because of who Fossa takes orders from?” Jack asked.
“Exactly. I could have arrested Fossa many times, but he is not my goal. I am after Izydor Mato, a man who is careful to stay clear of the police. He sends his people to carry out his orders, and Fossa is one of his most trusted lieutenants. We have been tracking Fossa closely.”
He tapped his glasses against his notebook. “You have been open. I will return the favor, so you understand the situation. The day of the theft at the gallery, Fossa was in another part of Madrid. Neighbors reported an altercation in the morning, but my people could not intervene—to do so would have revealed to Fossa that we were watching him. When police officers who cover that area arrived, they found an empty apartment, which was in the same state as your hotel room. My people followed Fossa when he left, so we do not know what happened to the man who lived there, Robert Novall. He’s vanished. My people saw Novall leave his apartment after the altercation. He slipped away before the police officers arrived. Novall was bleeding from his nose and walking slowly as if in pain, but when a neighbor offered to help, he refused and left. He was last seen heading for the Metro station. We assume that he has disappeared to stay out of the way of people like Fossa. One lead places him in South America, but…” Munez gave a little shake of his head, “…it will be difficult to track him. And, frankly, I have larger criminals to focus on.”
“But why would Fossa attack him?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention it? Robert Novall, or Rob as his friends call him, is a computer programmer—a very talented one by all reports. He’s been working for Val-tech.”
Jack blinked. “Val-tech? That’s one of the corporate hacking companies.”
“Yes, the premier one, I’d say. Novall left a job at a similar firm in France ten months ago to work for Val-tech. Novall has been ‘out sick’ since Tuesday.”
“The day Luis was attacked and the sketch was stolen,” Zoe said. “Then maybe this Robert Novall is the person who emailed Kaz? Yes, that’s got to be it, doesn’t it? That’s why you were so interested in Kaz,” Zoe said to Munez. “You think Robert Novall is the person who was trying to send the hack to Kaz.”
When Zoe and Jack were bringing Munez up to date on everything that had happened, Munez had been particularly interested in Kaz and had asked several additional questions about him after Zoe described how Kaz had searched her second hotel room. Munez had even asked for Zoe to send him a copy of the video footage of Kaz in the hotel room.
“That is correct,” Munez said. “We have confirmed that Novall’s main project at work involved a zero-day and that Novall and Kaz Volk were working together to release the hack. When we searched Novall’s apartment, we did not find much. His computer had nothing of significance on it regarding any hacks or exploits, and he left no physical evidence of what he’d been doing. He covered his tracks well except for one small thing. He had not signed out of a discussion forum where he is quite active. He expressed his o
pinions about surveillance quite openly in many detailed and passionate posts. He believes in privacy rights, and that surveillance—especially cyber surveillance—shouldn’t be done either by corporations or governments.”
Munez folded his glasses and put them in his pocket. “Another user on the forum—Tuck05 was his forum identity—was Novall’s most frequent supporter. This user hid his identity, but I suspect it is Kaz Volk. I believe they made plans to distribute the zero-day. Those discussions would have taken place in a secure way, not on a public forum. It seems that Novall took the job at Val-Tech so that he could obtain and then release this hack. That seemed to be his goal, to find the most valuable piece of information he could, and release it to the public. His previous employer is tight-lipped about Novall, but I’ve heard rumors that he left under a cloud. It’s possible he attempted something similar before coming to work at Val-Tech. We’re still tracking that down.”
“Sort of a digital Robin Hood,” Zoe said.
“That’s how he saw himself,” Munez said. “He even employed a variant of it, almost an abbreviation of it, as an identifier in some communications, Rbn.”
Jack shifted in his chair. “Robin Hood and Friar Tuck. They did see themselves as righting the world’s wrongs.”
Munez said, “He’s a hacktivist.”
Zoe glanced at Jack, eyebrows raised. He said, “Someone who uses their computer programming skills for political ends.”
Munez nodded. “I’m sure Novall thinks he’s doing the right thing. But to his employers, Novall is a traitor. And when the criminal world heard of the possibility that this hack might be active and circulating, well…then Novall became a target.”
“And Jug Ears—er, Fossa, I mean—was sent to do the dirty work of getting the hack,” Zoe said.