Bridge of Doom (18 page)

Annie returned to the Royal Bar to grab a late lunch and catch-up on the latest gossip with her aunt Peggie. As she walked in, she could see her aunt was busy clearing glasses from the tables, after what had obviously been a busy lunchtime session. 

Annie said nothing and tip-toed silently up behind her aunt, before putting her hands over her eyes. 

Completely unfazed her aunt said, 'don't tell me, it's Richard Gere come to whisk me away from all of this drudgery, for a night of unbridled passion and champagne.'  

'Isn't he a bit old for you?' said Annie, giggling before she gave her aunt a big hug. 

'Are you kidding me, girl? Some of the guys I've seen recently on dating websites make Richard Gere look like bloody Peter Pan.'
 

'So, I take it that you've not met
the one
yet?' 

'You could say that, Annie. But I'm not complaining because, believe me, putting on some slap and going out on dates once or twice a week is a helluva lot more fun than sitting at home, waiting for my Heating Allowance to arrive and watching the rubbish that's on the television most nights. Do you remember the advice I gave you the last time you were in here?' 

'Oh right, yes. Use it or lose it. Got it auntie.'
 

'Exactly. I'm thinking of getting that tattooed on my upper thigh, just below my suspender belt, in case I ever forget.' 

'Good for you, I'm proud of you, auntie.' 

'So has Jack Davidson finally dragged his lazy arse back to work yet?' 

'Yes, he's been back in the office for almost a week and he's feeling a lot better, now the nightmares have finally stopped. So things are back to normal again and it's all good. We're just getting started on a new case through in Edinburgh and on Saturday night we were invited to a really swanky party at the client's house in the New Town. It was quite something. There were a lot of strange and interesting people there. I think you would have liked it.'
 

'I'm not so sure about that, Annie. I've only ever been out with a couple of guys from Edinburgh and I'll tell you why. The first one, who said he was an accountant, invited me to dinner at an expensive Italian restaurant, somewhere just off George Street I think it was. He said it was his favourite place for a meal, so we had a lovely dinner and washed it down with two bottles of really good red wine. He seemed a bit quiet and reserved, but that's not necessarily a deal breaker, with me being the exact opposite, and I thought things were going really well. Anyway, after coffee he asked for the bill then balanced these tiny little half-moon specs on the end of his nose, before taking a calculator out of his pocket. Then he spent five minutes in complete silence, tapping away on the calculator checking and double-checking the bill, before announcing that because I had ordered a starter and an extra cup of coffee, my share of the bill was £46.75 plus a tip and service, of course.' 

'Oh dear, that must have been a bit of a passion killer,' said Annie.
 

'Aye, tell me about it. I couldn't believe the cheek of the guy. I don't mind going Dutch, Annie, especially if it's with a hot guy who's a bit short of the readies and I know in advance about it. But this tight-arsed twat had made out that the whole evening was to be his big treat. But that wasn't the end of it, because I'm almost certain he tried to use an out of date Groupon voucher to pay for his share of the bill. So there I was totally pissed off, out of pocket for the train fare and more than half of the cost of the meal. So not a happy bunny, at all.'  

'I take it that Mr Scrooge didn't qualify for any … you know,
afters
.'
 

'You're joking, of course, although he did actually have the nerve to ask me back to his place. I said, in your dreams, pal. Do you think that I fucking zip up the back? I'm not sure he knew exactly what that means, but he certainly got my drift.'  

'You've really cheered me up auntie,' said Annie, as she wiped away tears of laughter. 'And what about the other Edinburgh guy?' 

'Oh he looked
very
promising at first sight. But after my experience with the tight-arsed accountant, I insisted that this one come through to Glasgow for our date, so at least I'd save on the train fare if it was a complete waste of time. I'd say he was maybe early forties, around six-foot tall, fit looking and immaculately dressed, with one of these trendy haircuts, clean fingernails and very polite with it.  

'Do you think he maybe has a younger brother?' asked Annie, hopefully.
 

'I've no idea, but it all started okay. He was right on time and he brought me a cute little posy of flowers, which was a nice touch. Then I couldn't believe my luck when he said that some of the best dates he'd ever had were with older women, because they're such good listeners.' 

Annie had a fit of the giggles before explaining, 'Oh, I'm sorry, auntie. It's just that, if Jack was here, this would be his cue to trot out the old saying about,
'the old dames who don't yell, don't swell and they're always grateful as hell.'
 

'Davidson's a cheeky bastard, but there is a grain of truth in that. Although don't dare tell him I said that. Anyway getting back to Mr Perfect, he reminded me of another old saying, that if something looks too good to be true, it probably is.' 

'Oh right, so what was the problem with him?'
 

'Well we went into a nice bar, just round the corner from Queen Street station, and he got a round of drinks in. Then we settled into a cosy corner booth, but after that it was downhill all the way, because all he talked about for an hour solid was his ex-wife. I couldn't get a word in edgewise, so eventually I said I was going to the toilet and got up and left. But on the way out I told the barman that my date insisted on buying everyone in the pub a drink. That's quite a common thing by the way, Annie. Losers who haven't been able to move on after a break-up, who keep whining away about their ex to anyone stupid enough to listen. Totally pathetic.'  

'So I take it that's put you off dating anyone else from Edinburgh?'
 

'Never say never, Annie, but I'm concentrating only on Weegies for the foreseeable future. They're a bit more down to earth and usually don't have their heads stuck halfway up their arse. While we're on the subject of internet dating, has Mr Davidson taken my advice and dipped his big toe into the water yet?' 

'Well Jack can be a real dark horse, as you know. But I did pass on your suggestion and he listened, but didn't say any more about it for about a week. But, between you and me, I think he's actually been dipping a bit more than his big toe.' 

'The jammy bastard,' snorted Peg. 'I've been going through a dry spell myself recently on the rumpo front.' 

'Really?'
 

'Yeah, it's been well over a fortnight since I had a seeing-to and I'm starting to come out in big red blotches. What I really need is a good sweaty sha …'

Annie looked around the bar and blushed with embarrassment, before hissing, '
please
auntie, try and keep your voice down, will you? Everybody in the bar has stopped talking and they're all staring at us.’  

'Yeah, like I care,’ said an unconcerned Peggie, who immediately increased the volume, glaring at the remaining drinkers in the pub and daring any of them to respond. Wisely, to a man, they kept their heads down as if in communal prayer. And if any were in any doubt as to exactly where they stood in her estimation, that matter was swiftly clarified. ‘They're a bunch of wimps and losers, the lot of them, and if they don't like it in here they can just
fuck off
somewhere else.’
 

‘Look, I could lend you my latest box set if that would help,’ said Annie, swiftly trying to change the subject. ‘It's called
"House of Cards"
and it's absolutely terrific. You could watch it in bed when you get home from work and it might take your mind off … you know.' 

‘Is Richard Gere, or George Clooney in it?’
 

'No, sorry, it's Kevin Spacey. Not the same thing, I know. But he is very good.’

Annie was still smiling broadly, following the chat with her indomitable aunt, when she arrived back at the JD Investigations office. 

'I can tell, just by looking, that you've been round at the Royal Bar,' said Jack. 'How's your scary aunt Peggie?' 

'She's not scary, at all. She's sweet and half an hour spent with her always cheers me up. It's so great to have someone like her in my life I can talk to about absolutely anything. Although to be fair, this time she did most of the talking, mainly complaining about her love life.'  

'I'd like to think that you can talk to me about anything as well, Annie.' 

'Yeah, I know, but it's just different when it's another woman.' 

'Ain't that the truth,' said Jack.  

'But it wasn't all about her, because she was also asking about you. You know, about when you came back to work and how you're feeling.' 

'I know her, she's a nosy old cow. I'll bet she was wondering if I've tried internet dating yet.' 

'No, that's totally private. She didn't ask and I wouldn't have told her anything even if she had. You know that.' 

Jack gave her an old fashioned look, which suggested he didn't know anything of the sort and asked, 'do you think Jamie will have anything for us yet? You know, if he's managed to hack into Henry's office email account?' 

'It's maybe too soon, but I'll check right now.' 

Annie pulled a Samsung tablet from inside her courier bag and fired it up. 'This is an old clunker I haven't used for yonks. It's really slow but it does still work and I'm going to use it exclusively for any email traffic to do with the hack. That way there will be no electronic trail of any kind leading back to any of our office computers, iPads or phones, just in case things should go wrong somewhere down the line.' 

'Good thinking, Annie. The old belt and braces strategy, I like that.' 

Annie logged into an email account specifically set up by Jamie for the purpose, before punching the air and exclaiming, 'well done, Jamie, you're a star. He got us in, boss. Apparently Henry read your spoof rugby babes email about an hour ago and immediately opened the attachment about the best ever Weegie joke. So we're now good to go, with the keylogger software up and running in the background on his office computer.' 

'Look, I know that Jamie explained it all to us before, and I pretended to understand, but remind me again how this works, Annie. Idiot’s version.' 

'Okay, it's scarily simple really. Once the email attachment is opened, the key-logger software installs on the target computer and from that point on it records all keystrokes, including any passwords, and uploads the data logs to a secret server. I'll be able to access these data logs anytime I want, by logging into an online account that comes with the key-logger program. Jamie's set it all up for me and I can get on it right away. Remember how Jamie said employers use these key-logger programs all the time to keep an eye on the troops? Well, apparently, some parents are also using them to see what kind of naughty stuff their little angels are getting up to online in their bedrooms, when they should be getting stuck into their homework.'
 

'I'm not sure if that's such a good idea,' said Jack. 'They're probably better not knowing.' 

'So from now on, apart from being able to read all of Henry's business emails, I'll also be able to check out his browsing history and any searches he's made on Google or Bing. When you think about it, it's almost like being able to see the private thoughts inside someone's brain. You know, what they're worrying about, what they want, what they need, their dating profiles and even what kind of sexual fantasies they're having.' 

'You can tell all of
that
?' said Jack, suddenly concerned. 'By the way, you haven't slipped one of these key-logger whotsits onto my iPad, have you?’ 

'No, of course not. What a thing to suggest. But it's obvious isn't it? Everybody does searches online about stuff that they wouldn't necessarily speak to anyone else about.' 

'Sorry, Annie. But I can see now why it's illegal. What a gift to a nosy private investigator. Someone like me.' 

'I think I'll try and get into a routine of checking Henry's computer every couple of hours, so that we're always up to speed on what's happening. Of course, he's probably using a smartphone and maybe a tablet as well as his office computer, and we've no access to those. But still, this is a good start because otherwise we'd be completely in the dark.' 

'I suspect that Henry's old school, a bit like me, and probably naively assumes that his office computer, with some basic virus protection on it, is somehow safer and more secure than mobile devices. So, obviously, there are no guarantees but this is definitely worth a try. At least we might get some kind of a head's up on the kind of jam that Henry and his boss are in and why we're being invited to join the fun. But it is scary that it’s so easy to do this.' 

'The reality is that nothing's totally safe and secure any more, boss. If bad people are determined to access your computer, they will. Just like a top burglar can get into any house. Okay, the alarm might sound and the police might come, but he'll still have a few minutes to look around inside and lift your car keys. Although, to be fair, that’s one thing
you
don’t need to worry about.’ 

'Cheers for that, Annie. But, actually, I don't think anyone should be counting on the cops turning out with the blue flashers on for a home burglary anymore, Annie. I’m not making this up, but a police response in some parts of the country actually depends on whether your house has an odd or an even number. Or whether there are any dead bodies or severed limbs lying around on the living room carpet. It's totally nuts.’