by David Archer
“I’m quite certain he did,” Denny said. “I am also certain that evidence still exists. There are very few people who can truly do anything without leaving some trace of it to be found. This is especially true whenever money is involved, and there is no doubt in my mind that money changed hands. Somewhere, there exists a record of the transactions involved, and I intend to find it.”
Devon stared at him for a moment. “You would do better to look for transactions that do not exist. Variations in bank ledgers that do not seem to have a transaction connected to them. There are certain men in London who see to such things, so that men like Ben Hickam do not have to get their hands dirty. Payments to such facilitators are often disguised as ledger errors, or the distribution of funds for investment purposes.”
Denny nodded slowly. “Then perhaps, Uncle, we should do better to work on this together. You wish to uphold the Chamberlain name and bring evil before the light; I seek to prove that the events that took place were deliberate and calculated, rather than the result of negligence on the part of my client.”
Devon reached into his pocket and took out a pack of Dunhill cigarettes, shook one out, and then produced the gold lighter that Denny had given him years earlier, for his birthday. He held it out and looked at it for a moment, then lit the cigarette and put the lighter back into his pocket.
“Together, then,” he said. “How do you propose to do this?”
“I’m going to get into his building,” Denny said. “I need to get access to his computers, and then an associate of ours can find just about anything we need inside it.”
“That should be a start, at least. I think that we might also consider a direct confrontation. He knows me, so he knows it’s likely I figured out what he’s done. Together, you and I can probably wring a confession from the bastard.”
“And it may come to that,” Denny said. “First, I want to try my way. It won’t take me long, I can assure you.”
“How long?” Devon asked.
“I slept some on the flight over,” Denny said, “and I’ll get a bit more this afternoon. I’m going into the building tonight, and I expect to have the answers we seek by this time tomorrow.”
Devon sat quietly for a couple of minutes, occasionally puffing on his cigarette and looking up at the canopy overhead. At last, he put the cigarette out in the ashtray beside him.
“Then we shall meet here again, at this time tomorrow. If you have not succeeded, then we should do things my way. Agreed?”
Denny grinned. “Agreed, Uncle.”
The old man got up and walked away without another word, and Denny went into the hotel. He went to the front desk and got himself a room, then went back out to his car and got his bag. He carried it up to his room and set it on one of the beds, then laid down on the other and set an alarm on his phone for six.
*
When he awoke, Denny took a quick shower and then turned to his bag, sitting on the bed. He opened it and took out his clothing, then began removing items from the hidden compartment in the bottom.
The night before, even before leaving Denver, he had made a few calls to other old friends in London. From them, he had learned that the Starbright building used highly sophisticated, state of the art security. Digital combination locks secured every door from the outside, and many of the interior doors required biometric identification—fingerprints—before they would open.
One of those old friends, who happened to be in charge of a large database of military records, found a copy of Benjamin Hickam’s fingerprint card from when he was in the Royal Navy and emailed it to Denny. With that, a CAD program, and a fairly simple 3D printer, Denny was able to create thin, flexible copies of Hickam’s thumbs and fingers that could be slipped over his own. Those would, with the application of a bit of moisture from his own palms, handle all the biometric locks. The digital combinations were even easier, since Denny had an app on his phone that would allow him to plug a cable into the digital lock and read its combination. All such locks had a place for the cable, because that was how they were programmed when the combinations were changed.
Also in the hidden compartment was a gun. He had chosen a Walther PP Q4, set up to receive a suppressor, which he added. Even with the silencer in place, the pistol was light and small, easily concealed under his shirt.
With all of these things tucked into pockets and under his clothing, Denny headed out. He had every intention of getting the information he was after that very night, so that he would have plenty of time to consult with Indie if necessary.
The drive to the Starbright building took him almost an hour, mostly because of the evening traffic. There were an awful lot of vehicles on the road in London, and many of its streets were still narrow from the days when automobiles were a novelty, rather than the norm. Even some of the main thoroughfares were narrow enough to cause some traffic congestion when so many people were trying to get out and enjoy the nightlife, or begin the nightly hunting rituals that most singles engage in.
Of course, a company like Starbright had people working at all hours. Denny knew that he would have to be careful, but he had learned years earlier that people had a tendency to ignore someone who looked like he knew what he was doing and had a reason for being wherever he was. The building was large enough that he doubted there were too many people who could be certain they knew everyone who worked there, so all he really had to do was make himself fit in.
He parked the Jaguar in the company’s car park, then approached one of the side doors of the building. With a practiced ease that came from a lot of experience, he slipped the cord into the digital lock and tapped the icon on his phone. It took less than six seconds to display the combination, and he was able to punch it into the lock, open the door, and slip his phone into his pocket in one smooth movement. If a security guard happened to be watching the monitor showing that door, it would have looked perfectly natural.
Fortunately, there was no one in the hall that he entered. He kept his face downward, avoiding the overhead security cameras, then made his way through the halls in search of the computer rooms. It took him less than five minutes to find them, and he was pleased to see that they had large windows set into their interior walls, allowing him to see inside without having to open a door and surprise someone. One of the rooms was completely empty, and he pressed his right thumb against the security scanner.
The scanner flashed red, indicating that it did not recognize the thumbprint. He hadn’t been sure whether Hickam was right handed or left, so he quickly tried his left thumb instead, and the scanner turned green. The lock clicked, and he opened the door and walked into the computer room.
He plugged the USB adapter for his phone into the computer, and another app began running. This one looked for security passwords in the operating system on the computer, and once again it was able to get him the answer within a matter of seconds. He tapped the keyboard and entered the password, then took hold of the mouse and began scrolling through the files.
A moment later, he realized he had hit the jackpot. The main computer system for the building not only held all of the communications for every employee, but also kept all of the internal security video. He worked quickly, creating a Split Multi Link Trunking protocol connection, assigning a port to it and then creating a password protected entry point. The whole process took only eleven minutes, and meant that he could give Indie easy access to the back end of Starbright’s entire computer system, but the system was far too large to try to copy. Remote access was the only way it could be safely searched.
That was all he needed to do, so it was time to leave. He got up and walked out of the computer room, letting the door secure itself behind him as he strolled nonchalantly through the hallways again. He passed a few people, smiled and nodded at each one, and made it all the way back to the door through which he had entered with no problem.
And then he ran into a snag. While the door could be opened from the outside through the use of a digita
l combination, on the inside it was nothing but a fire door. Pressing the bar to open the door would sound an alarm, and that was not something he wanted to do.
He turned around and walked back into the building, wandering through the halls for several minutes and checking every exit door he could find. Except for the ones at the front of the building, right in front of the security guards at the front desk, every single one of them was rigged to sound an alarm if opened from the inside.
As long as he was deep inside the building, the security guards had no reason to pay any attention to him. If he was inside, naturally, he must belong there.
Trying to leave by the front doors, on the other hand, might prompt one of the guards to ask for his ID. Denny really didn’t want to have to use a weapon, simply because it might create problems he’d actually prefer to avoid. Still, it seemed that it might be the only way he was getting out of the building, so he prepared himself to take the risk.
He started toward the front lobby, and almost bumped into a young woman who was stepping out of her own workstation.
“Oh, your pardon,” she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“No trouble, luv,” Denny said. “I’m just on my way out. A bit knackered, too many of these late nights lately.”
“Oh, I know,” the girl said. “This is my third in a row this week. You’d think his Lordship would bring on some new help, it would surely make him look good, creating dozens of new jobs. He certainly doesn’t seem to like paying the overages on our wages, does he, now?”
“That’s so true,” Denny said. “Are you going off, as well, then?”
She looked up at him shyly, and smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I finally finished the user ratings I’ve been working on the last three days, and I truly cannot wait to get home and just relax.”
Denny smiled back. “In a rush, then? I’m more than a bit famished, and I’d love some company over dinner. Would you care to join me?”
She giggled. “Well, now, that depends on where you plan to eat. I’m a bit picky, I’m afraid.”
“Then, that’s perfect,” Denny said. “You can pick the place, and I’ll pick up the check. Where should we go?”
She pretended to be deep in thought as they walked along, and didn’t object when Denny slipped an arm around her shoulders. When they reached the front lobby, the security guard at the desk looked up briefly, grinned when he saw Denny obviously trying to charm the pants off the girl, and looked back at the magazine laying in front of him.
Denny and the young lady, whose name was Alice, walked out the front door and turned right to get to the car park. Alice had chosen a chip shop nearby, and Denny promised to follow her straight there.
Five minutes later, Alice was genuinely surprised when her date failed to show up. Denny was already three miles away in the opposite direction, headed back to Wembley and the Green Man Hotel.
He checked his phone for the time, and saw that it was not yet nine. That made it just a bit before two in the afternoon back in Denver, so he dialed Indie.
21
Saturday, at the Prichard household, was not always a day of rest the way they liked it to be. Sometimes, it seemed to be just a continuation of the rest of the week, with plenty of work to do around the house. Sam, for instance, was using his riding mower to take care of the yard, the first time he had a chance to mow it himself since the previous fall. Kenzie was upstairs, cleaning her own room, and Indie was folding clothes when her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Miss Indie, this is Denny Cortlandt. I’m across the pond in London, and Sam told me to give you a call when I had certain arrangements made.”
Indie smiled. “Yes, Denny,” she said. “Sam told me you might be calling. Let me get to my computer, give me just a moment.”
“No rush,” Denny said. “I’ve set up an SMLT protocol connection to the target computer, and I’m hoping you’ll be able to get in to it.”
“Oh, I can,” Indie replied. “Okay, just a few more seconds. I’m letting Herman wake up. Okay, he’s ready. Got the IP address for me?”
Denny gave her the IP address, the port number, and login information, and she fed them into Herman. When she turned him loose, she watched the monitor closely to see if there was any sign her intrusion was being detected.
“Hey, you did good work,” she said after a moment. “Herman is in, and has full access to everything.”
“Well, there were a lot of protected files in there,” Denny said. “Not too sure what you’ll do about those, but…”
“Herman can get in,” Indie said. “This is a Windows system, so he can find the Credentials Manager, which will give him access to the passwords necessary to open any locked files. The only one he’ll have to really work for is the Windows administrator password, but those usually aren’t that hard to crack. Do you have any specific ideas what we’re looking for in there?”
“Well, certainly, anything connecting Starbright to the shooting at the arena,” Denny said. “Also, you might need to look through the security videos pretty hard. My gut says that Reynard may have been to the building, and probably met with Benjamin Hickam, the owner. If you can find his face…”
“Well, if he’s there, I’ll find him.”
“Good. I’ve got a pretty solid reason to believe that Hickam was the one who arranged that shooting, and he would certainly have the money Reynard would charge. If there’s a connection, and I’m dead certain there is, you’ll find it in that computer system.”
“I’m feeding in the various data and photographs now,” she replied. “That’s an awfully big system, so it’s not going to happen in a few minutes. Is this a good number to call you back on?”
“Yes, my cell number,” Denny said. “Let me know as soon as you can, please, if you find anything definite. Or even something indefinite, if it seems to be a lead I can work with.”
“I sure will. And you ought to call Sam. I think he may have something to tell you.”
“My very next call, luv, I assure you,” Denny said.
“Give it a minute, though, because he is out on the lawnmower. I’ll tell him to shut it down and wait for your call.”
“Will do,” Denny said. The line went dead and Indie put down her phone as she went to the back door. She slid it open and leaned out, waving until she got Sam’s attention.
He rode the motor close to the deck and shut down the engine. “Hey, babe,” he said.
“Thought you’d like to know that Denny is going to call you,” she said. “Probably about any second now.”
Sam grinned and pulled his phone out of his pocket, and it rang at that very moment.
“Denny? It’s Sam,” he said. “How are things going over there?”
“It all went well,” Denny said. “I got in with no problem and set up the connection. Mrs. Prichard is working on it now, looking for anything to connect Hickam and Starbright to Reynard.”
“Awesome. You didn’t run into any problems, then?”
“None,” Denny said. “I asked Miss Indie to look for any sign Reynard made contact with Hickam, or vice versa. My gut says she’s going to find it, Sam.”
“Good,” Sam said. “We’re fairly certain, now, that Morton was not actually involved, but there’s still a chance that someone inside his company could be. Indie might find something along that line, but I’m more interested in connecting Hickam and Reynard, at this point. Any evidence that ties them together will help us bring this thing to a close. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to wrap this case up.”
Denny sighed. “So am I,” he said, “and uncle Devon is right there with us. Sam, this whole bloody thing was probably just about Hickam building up his company as it moves into the American market. By giving Web Wide Awards a boost, he put his bloody advertising in front of millions more Americans who might sign up for his streaming service. I can’t think of a worse motive for what that poor young man endured.”
“I agree,”
Sam said. “Unfortunately, it’s the only scenario that actually makes any sense. By building up Morton’s following, he increased his own presence inside the American video market. I’m going to ask Indie to see if she can find any evidence that their own sales have been increasing since the shooting. Hey, maybe we’ll be lucky and get a lead on Reynard, himself. I’d love to be involved in bringing him down.”
“Sam, that’s harder than you think. Reynard has never failed to take out his target, and he always seems to be a step ahead of whoever’s after him. If we get close to him, he’s going to know it.”
“Then maybe we can find something we can turn over to NSA and they can take him down. Every criminal makes a mistake sooner or later, and maybe this one will be his time.”
“Listen, I’ll do some digging over here, see if I can pick up any kind of intel on what he’s up to. I asked Miss Indie to let me know what she finds, but she said it’s going to be a while. I’ll work on learning all I can about Reynard until then.”
“Good job,” Sam said. “Keep me posted if you learn anything.”
Sam hung up the phone and sat back in the seat of the mower. He was finally starting to feel like the jigsaw puzzle was coming together. Maybe soon, he would be able to see what the final picture was going to be.
He fired up the mower again and went back to giving the yard its trim.
*
Herman chimed, and Indie went to the computer to see what he had found. The monitor displayed several links, and she clicked the first one. It opened to reveal an email that had been sent more than three months earlier from Ben Hickam’s account on the server.
From: Hickam, Benjamin
To: [email protected]
I’ve gotten the word that we should proceed. Ideal target would be winner of Top Discovery Award from WWA. Can you make that happen during the webcast?
There was a reply attached to it from the recipient.
Consider it done.
Indie stared at the screen. There before her was very solid evidence that Benjamin Hickam, owner of Starbright Awards, had specifically ordered the shooting of Max Petrelli, though it was unlikely he knew that Max would be the winner at that time.