by Stan Mason
‘Will you get out of here and let me work in peace!’
Elliott realised it would be unwise to press his colleague further so he went towards the door. ‘You’re in a real bad mood today, John. I’d better leave you to wallow in your problems. Good day to you, my friend!’
‘Good day and good riddance,’ muttered the senior executive under his breath.
‘Oh, there’s just one more thing,’ rebounded Elliott turning to strike like a primed cobra. ‘Another little problem for you to handle. Sorry about this... coming at a time when you’re so busy but it’s important and very urgent.
Rigby stared at him bleakly trying to mask his irritation at the other man’s mocking attitude. It was quite clear that Elliott was intent on sabotaging the operations of Functional Control under its new management before Rigby got his feet under the desk. The newly promoted executive needed to be constantly alert and extremely sharp to outwit his foe.
‘Okay,’ he conceded, ‘tell me about it?’
Elliott raised his eyebrows knowingly and returned to take a seat while Betty Brewer rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. Sam Elliott was such a snake-in-the-grass that no one could stand him.
‘It’s my duty to inform you of a new world of computer-related fraud which ahs grown up within the universe of business crime,’ he began earnestly. Despite the resentment which Elliott attracted, it was difficult to fault him at his work. He may have been guilty of using and abusing other people but he knew in the final analysis the factors that counted... and that was the major part of his strength. ‘The International Research Institute has identified that over the past twenty years nearly seven hundred such crimes have been reported. Most of them were in the United States but that’s where computer business grew in the first place. Some eighty-five per cent of all crimes go unreported and I leave it to you to proved guest mates of the number of computer frauds being perpetrated in this country at the present time.’
‘So what, Sam? It’s happening all over the world and it always will as long as there’s greed in man. I just hope to God it doesn’t affect us too deeply.’
‘I don’t believe I hear you right,’ accused Elliott with a certain element of incredibility creeping into his voice. ‘You hope to God it doesn’t affect us? That’s your job, man! It’s got nothing to do with hope. Look, the computer system, with its transfers of large sums of money. There are unlimited resources when it comes to moving money around by computer network systems. Do you realise that the time taken to perpetrate a massive fraud now takes less than a minute. Don’t you regard that phenomenon demanding urgent measures to be taken?’
‘I can’t see that it’s such an urgent problem, Sam.’
’Don’t be naïve,’ continued the other man insistently. ’Criminals are exceedingly clever and it’s really your duty to do something to counteract fraud. You need to get to grips with the situation or the Board will hit you in the face with it. You need to take elaborate precautions right away because the true facts may take months to appear and by then the bank will have lost a lot of money. I mean it’s large-scale robbery.’
’Forget it, Sam. I’ve got other fish to fry,’ snapped Rigby waiting for Elliott to show his fangs. ’Is that all you wanted to tell me?’
The other man drew back his lips to show his teeth in a snarl. He was enjoying every minute of the charade. ’I recognise that however highly you establish security levels in security systems there is no means by which you can make it absolutely safe. The criminals are always one step ahead of the banks. Most computer crimes are very mundane. They may be labelled as petty thefts. It’s the big one that terrifies me, much as by the way of the Trojan Horse technique.’
Rigby was about to start writing a note on another matter to show his indifference but he halted and lowered his pen. ’The Trojan Horse technique? What are you talking about?’
’It involves smuggling instructions into a part of the computer software system and it come into operation at a given time, or in response to a particular combination of circumstances. It’s also known as a time-bomb or logic bomb. These instructions can be programmed to erase themselves from the system once the operation has been completed.’
’Do you have something specific to tell me apart from these methods of criminal actions?’
’John, my friend!’ laughed Elliott, turning to mockery again. ‘I’ve merely brought some facts to your attention. It’s your job as Head of Functional Control to stop it from happening. Don’t forget, when all the shooting’s over, it was me, Sam Elliott, who put you on to it. Don’t forget that!’
‘And what do you suggest I do first?’
‘The domestic side, the international side, the subsidiaries and the associate companies. The whole of the bank is your oyster.’
‘Thank you very much, Sam. I appreciate your advice,’ replied Rigby sarcastically. ‘You’re hell-bent with crossing my path with a giant red-herring to divert me from the true course of justice here, aren’t you?’
Elliott stared at him with a hurt expression on his face. ‘Would I do a thing like that? I’m trying to get you ahead of the game in rooting out the criminal acts. They lose their nerve when some of them are caught. It would be a feather in your cap if you could pull it off.’
‘What’s the bottom line to all this, Sam? Come on. I know you too well to be the beneficiary of your corporate heroism! You wouldn’t ask questions unless you knew all the answers!’
‘I don’t understand,’ commented Elliott with pure innocence.
‘Yes you do! If you want me to do all the dirty work you’ve have to provide me with better ammunition.’
The other man moved his lips forwards and backwards thoughtfully. He didn’t like being pressed for information which here regarded secretly as his own, but he was playing a game with his prey and, like a good fisherman, he considered it would be to his advantage to let out the line a fraction. ‘Surely you don’t want jam on it, John,’ he went on. ‘Try Jenkins in the Chief Accountant’s Office. Let’s be quite clear on this. I’m not accusing anyone but there have been one or two whispers. Do you get the drift?’
‘I understand. It’s the old Elliott send-off. If I’m caught with my trousers down no one will know that you’re behind it. Am I right?’
Elliott smiled without taking offence and stood up to move towards the door again. ‘By the way, the sponsor for the project is the Old Man. Mr. MacDonald is certain to want this to be considered a priority on your project list. I spoke to him only a few minutes ago about it.’ He stared at Betty Brewer and winked at her slyly. ‘I think your boss got up the wrong side of the bed this morning.’
As he closed the door behind him, she glowered angrily for a few moments and then allowed her feelings to swamp caution. ‘Creep!’ she muttered to herself.
‘What was that?’ asked Rigby acting as though to reproach her for insubordination.
‘Creep!’ she repeatedly unashamedly while the senior executive tried hard not to smile. It was not his concern if another manager earned little or no respect from the rest of the staff. In Elliott’s case, there were too many people with the same view anyway. ‘What right did he have to put that project to the Assistant Chief Executive? He knows it will burden you with work!’
‘He has a point though,’ advanced her boss, trying to salvage the situation. ‘Fraud in computer operations is increasing year on year. One day we may wake up to discover that millions of pounds have been removed from the bank’s assets by computer fraud... most of it despatched to Swiss bank accounts. Where would we be then?’
‘That may be true but Mr. Elliott didn’t bring it to your attention to help you. He’s obviously trying to put the spanner into the works so that you can’t do your job properly and that’s not fair.’
‘Sam Elliott doesn’t hide his intentions, Not to me anyway. He identifies himse
lf as an enemy from the start. It’s just that you don’t know where he’s going to strike next.’
‘That’s despicable!’
‘Tell me about it! He operates the rules of corporate war set by himself. You’d best make a note for us to contact the Head of Computer Division. We need to cover ourselves one way or another.’
At that moment the telephone rang and Betty Brewer answered it. She swallowed hard and turned to her boss. ‘It’s Carlisle at Croydon branch!’
There was a dreadful moment as thoughts of horror flashed through Rigby’s mind. He snatched the receiver, tensing himself for the bad news the man was going to relate. ‘Rigby here... what’s happened?’
‘He’s given us an ultimatum, Mr. Rigby,’ exclaimed Carlisle fearfully, He wants the money in one hour or he’ll explode the bomb. The police tried to contact him through a loudspeaker and it upset him.’
‘All right, Carlisle. Don’t let it unnerve you. It’s eleven-thirty. We’ve got an hour. He failed to allay the fears of the junior manager who began to speak quicker as nervousness overtook him.
‘I went in there, Mr. Rigby,’ he went on in a rush of words. ‘Into the Manager’s room. The man was sitting there with the holdall on his lap. A large blue holdall. I could actually see the wires connecting the bomb to his body. He’s holding them in his hands.’
‘Keep your head, son!’ advised the senior manager, trying to maintain an even tone to his voice. ‘Just keep a cool head! I want you to explain to Mr. Johnson that there are two key holders to the safe and, because the payroll is so large, one of them is with the Manager at Head Office.. Tell him we’re dealing with the matter and will comply with his demand. Tell him everything’s under control. Don’t make him feel nervous! Say that one hour may not be enough because the Manager with the other key is out on a mission.’
‘I’ll do as you say, Mr. Rigby,’ stated the Assistant Manager woefully.
Betty Brewer waved the other telephone to gain his attention. ‘Mr. Evans of the Daily Tribune’s on line two. He says it’s urgent.’
Rigby nodded as though he understood and terminated the conversation with the Assistant Manager. ‘I’ll leave it in your hands, Carlisle. Let me know if anything else happens.’ He took the second telephone quickly. ‘What news, Mr. Evans?’
‘One of our local reporters has taken a number of photographs of the man in your branch manager’s office. He took them from the staircase of the bank opposite,’ he explained exultantly. ‘He says he had a good view of him. We’ll print it in our next edition. Do you have any comments to make?’
‘What time will it be issued?’
‘It’ll be in our lunchtime edition... about two o’clock.’
‘All want to see is the headline: “DO YOU KNOW THIS MAN?” Make sure you’ve got the photograph of the criminal and not of the bank manager. I’d better fax you a copy or our man just to make sure.’
‘Not necessary,’ came the reply. ‘I’ve been told that the man in the photograph’s holding two wires in his hands. There’s no problem with identity.’
‘Good... only there’s a rumour that the mug shots of some of our managers are worse than the criminals,’ joked Rigby numbly. He replaced the receiver and whistled through his teeth as tension built up inside him. He began to feel as though he was walking on a tightrope. ‘I don’t like the way this is heading,’ he muttered to himself. ‘I don’t like it at all!’
‘Scotland Yard is on line three,’ his secretary called out., viewing his predicament with natural concern. She had often seen him work under pressure but never with such pernicious problems. She began to worry that this appointment could seriously damage his health.
‘What are you playing at, Rigby?’ reproached the senior police officer angrily. ‘I’m being approached by newspaper reporter and television crews swarming around your Croydon branch who say you reported the attempted bank robbery to them. How can I keep law and order if you keep interfering all the time?’
‘Chief Inspector,’ he replied indignantly, ‘no one’s interfering with the police. I gave permission to the media to take photographs of the man. We have to find out who he is!’
‘Don’t come the old soldier with me, Rigby!’ riposted the policeman down the line, angry at the intrusion of the bank in such an important matter. ‘What difference does it make who the man is. He’s sitting there with a bomb on his lap! You’re interfering in police procedure and I can’t allow that to happen. Anyway, there’s no chance of them getting a photograph!’
‘We’ve already done it, Chief Inspector,’ crowed the banker triumphantly. ‘It was taken from the staircase of the Swiss bank opposite.’
There was a pause before the conversation continued. ‘Look... I advise you to leave it to the police from here on. We know how to deal with such cases from experience. We know what we’re doing!’
Rigby, however, had no intention of allowing control of the bank branch to slip away. ‘Like hell you do, Church!’ he shouted down the line. It was a declaration of war from the banker. ‘Do you know what your heavy-handed Keystone Kops did just now? They frightened the living daylights out of the bandit by shouting at him through a loudspeaker. It scared him so much that he’s issued an ultimatum. We’ve got one hour before he blows the branch sky-high thank to the way the police have handled it so far!’
‘You’d be well advised to keep your criticism to yourself,’ countered Church irately. ‘Our procedures have been tried and tested over the years. It’s not our fault if the maniac in your branch is ultra-sensitive!’
‘Thank you very much for that, Church!’ shouted Rigby down the line. ’Your men botch it up and you come bleating to me! Well I’m not having it! The branch is my responsibility not yours and you can quote me to the Commissioner of Police if you like! If you really want a lead, get a man over to the Daily Tribune. They have a photograph of the bandit which will be published in their early edition. See if you can identify him from your criminal records. So don’t tell me I’m interfering!’
‘I’m going to talk to your superiors about this, Rigby!’ countered the senior police officer angrily. ‘They’ll take you down a peg or two!’
‘All you have to do is to keep the public away from that branch. That’s all. Give me an even chance of getting the man out of there before any damage is done. That’s all I ask.’
He replaced the receiver to note that his secretary was staring at him with considerable concern. ‘I don’t think it’s wise to talk to a senior police officer in that fashion,’ she chided him. ‘If you get into trouble with a parking or speeding offence they’ll show you no mercy. Not after the way you spoke to him.’
The banker laughed loudly for the first time that day. ‘Bless you!’ he chortled with amusement. ‘You’re incorrigible, Betty Brewer! ‘ Another telephone rang at that moment and the smile quickly drained from his face.
‘It’s Cornelius Strangeway for you on line one.’
‘Who?’ he asked frowning. ‘No one has a name like that!’
‘I think he’s a big-wig in Computer Division.’
‘Never heard of him!’ He picked up the telephone receiver shrugging his shoulders. ‘Rigby in Functional Control.’
‘Mr. Rigby,’ came the voice at the other end of the line. ‘Are you available for a meeting at three o’clock this afternoon? It’s on the subject of computer fraud. Someone called Sam Elliott contacted me to alert me on some of the problems. Can we discuss it on a personal level to start with?’
‘I’m pretty much tied up at the moment, Strangeway,’ muttered Rigby thoughtfully.
‘I would like to talk to you personally about it.’
‘Okay... make it three o’clock. I’ll contact you if I need to postpone it. The line went dead before he could speak again and he stared at the instrument with an enigmatic expression. ‘Strangew
ay... strange man!’ commented Rigby. ‘But then with a name like that and a career in computers it would be too much to expect otherwise.’
‘Mrs. Rigby’s on line two.’ his secretary informed him disregarding his mumblings.
‘For Christ’s sake!’ swore Rigby in annoyance. ‘Not again!’
‘It’s not your wife... it’s the second Mrs. Rigby.’
He puffed out his cheeks with relief. ‘Thanks, Betty,’ he said weakly. His life was suddenly becoming extremely complicated and he made a mental note to ask his secretary to call his wife Mrs. Rigby and his mistress by her first name in the future. ‘Hi, Sandra, sweetheart, what is it?’
‘Are you enjoying yourself playing the big tycoon?’
‘I wouldn’t wish it on a dog!’ he retorted. ‘There’s a lunatic in one of our branches threatening to blow it sky-high with a bomb. Unless that’s resolved satisfactorily, I don’t know whatg time I’ll be able to get home.’
‘You never said the job would be exciting,’ she responded. ‘Will you be on television?’
‘If you were sitting in this chair, you wouldn’t think it’s so exciting. I’ve already had a tussle with the police, pressure from the media, and... look, sweetheart, I can’t talk to you at the moment. I warned you about the exigencies of this job, didn’t I?’
‘Don’t worry, darling, It’ll all work out well in the end especially with you at the helm. Bye for now!’
He replaced the receiver and shook his head sadly. ‘Aren’t women just the bitter end!’ he growled rhetorically. ‘She treats it like a film shown in the local cinema. What time do you want to take your lunch today, Betty?’
‘If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just have a sandwich here in the office,’ she replied helpfully. ‘I’m concerned about the situation. You may not be able to cope if all the telephones ring at the same time.’
‘I appreciate that,’ he told her gratefully. ‘Let me give ‘you a warning. Don’t sacrifice your personal life for this job. It’s like a whirlpool sucking up people all the time. It’s not worth the anguish and pain just for a few shekels at the end of the month. Just tuck that at the back of your mind before you give up your next lunch break.’