Michael
James looks sick at heart. “They sent an email to Charlotte which appeared to come from me. And so
of course, she responded to it. And because there was nothing amiss with any of the content and the
link was to a trustworthy website, there was nothing for her security to pick up on…
“Whoever did this, they've hacked a completely legitimate company, a supplier of lingerie and other
perfectly innocent goods. Charlotte could have worked her way all around that website and the only
damage would have been the spend on her credit card, until she hit that single image. And they
ensured she would hit it by making it look like a request from me.
“After that, Charlotte replied to my email and I clicked it open. The fucking thing infected my system
and I didn’t spot a thing because I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I don’t follow all this,” I say. “So what’s this infection done, James?”
He sucks at his cheeks, as though trying to work up saliva. Then, speaking as though making a
confession, “While Klempner was here, I hacked his phone. Or to be precise, he uploaded an image I
sent him, one of those of Baxter while we were searching for him. The image was a lot more than it
appeared to be. I’d set it up as a Trojan into his system which meant I could keep an eye on him
wherever he was…”
James raises a finger… “That is what I was telling Will about when he was deciding whether or not to
arrest Klempner. I knew that at the time of Mickey’s stabbing, Klempner was nowhere near. He couldn’t
have been the attacker. Will took that as a sign of good faith. With that information and the promise that
I would keep an eye on where Klempner was at all times, he accepted that he didn’t need to arrest
him.”
“So…?” prompts Richard.
“So… Klempner destroyed that phone. I’m guessing he realised I’d got a tracker on him. The phone
went out of commission just after he spoke to us that day he found Baxter…”
Richard folds arms. “I detect a But coming into the conversation…”
James draws in air. “But… my Trojan did more than just infect his phone. It was set to back itself up
into his cloud service…”
“So… when he got himself a new mobile… the moment he logged into his system, it re-infected itself?”
“Yes…” James presses fingers to his forehead. “And now, I’ve been hacked, more than that… I’ve been
suckered. The moment the hacker obtained access to my machine, they set about searching out all the
records I have relating to Klempner…”
There’s more…
“… And worse than that, because I messaged him, because he opened my messages, their virus has
been carried through to his system.”
“So…” says Richard slowly… “Our hacker is in Klempner’s system?”
He nods, rubbing at the back of his head.
“I suppose…” I say… “…We can assume the hacker is Juliana… Sola… whatever she’s calling
herself?”
“Who else?”
“So, Juliana not only knows where he is? She has access to all his files?”
“That’s about the size of it.”
“I think you’d better let him know, pretty damn quick.”
“I’ve already sent a message to Hickman, asked him to call by…”
As though on cue, the doorbell rings.
Richard rises quickly. “I’ll go.”
In less than a minute, he returns, Hickman at his side. “What can I do for you, Mr Alexanders?”
*****
Hickman’s expression is grave. “I can’t get a reply from him. There’s a voicemail connecting but, under
the circumstances, I’m reluctant to leave a message with anything very explicit. I’ve simply asked him
to return my call on an urgent matter. I am… unwilling… to message or email him, given what you have
told me…”
“He can still trace your phone…”
He tosses his mobile from one hand to the other. “Brand new mobile. Completely generic. I, like Mr
Klempner, always keep one unused and handy, just in case.”
“A new number? So, how does he know it’s really you?”
“He knows my voice, Mr Haswell. And we have some prearranged codewords in case of trouble or
warnings that we can’t speak out loud.”
“You seem well prepared.”
“Mr Klempner is very well prepared. Very organised. Except of course where someone blows a hole
through all his arrangements.” Hickman’s voice is flat, but his glare is directed at James, who looks
away.
“What do we tell Mitch?” I say.
Richard snaps a reply. “Nothing. Not yet. There’s no point upsetting her without our learning more first.”
*****
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