Invasion of Privacy: A Deep Web Thriller #1 (Deep Web Thriller Series) (35 page)

“Mr Saxton, we really do have some questions. Can we please come in and talk to you,” persisted Jenny. “Calmly.”

Saxton clenched his fists. He glared at Brody. His pupils were like pin-pricks. Brody knew he was about to be punched. It was like the school playground all over again. He thought he’d left that life way behind. Brody tensed his body.

“Yes, of course you can come in,” said a female voice from further away. It was Hilary Saxton, standing by the open gate, her baby daughter in her arms.

Saxton pivoted around. “Hilary, no! I will not allow this. The police had me in a cell all fucking night and I do not have to put up with this shit.”

As if Saxton hadn’t spoken, Hilary asked, “Would you like tea, officers?”

* * *

They sat around the rustic kitchen table. Four steaming mugs of tea, a bowl of sugar and a matching jug containing milk were the only items on the wooden surface. Mr and Mrs Saxton sat on one side, Jenny and Brody on the other. Hilary Saxton had placed the baby in a playpen full of toys in the living room.

Surreptitiously, Jenny glanced up above Mrs Saxton’s head in the direction of where she thought the webcam was, but could see nothing obvious. On the wall was a painting of fruit and just above it on the ceiling was a smoke detector.

“So what’s the new information?” demanded Saxton. He had calmed down a little since the confrontation outside.

 Jenny had been impressed at the way Brody had stood his ground against the massive ex-rugby player. It had been touch and go. Jenny had seen far too many testosterone-fuelled fights in her time as a police officer and knew that Saxton had been moments away from decking Brody. Brody didn’t strike her as the physical type, but then she hardly knew him. Perhaps she was making assumptions because he was a computer geek, although she had spotted Brody’s hands jittering uncontrollably as he reached for his man bag from the car, a sure sign of someone unused to being exposed to physical violence.

She decided to approach the subject head-on. “Tell me about the webcams in your house, Mr Saxton.”

“What’ve they got to do with anything?” asked Derek.

“Our nannycams?” queried Hilary Saxton.

“We don’t have to discuss this. Our webcams have got absolutely nothing to do with anything.” He gave a loud sigh and then said, “Just drink your tea and go.”

“Derek . . .” cautioned his wife. “We’ve got nothing to hide. Think about poor Audri for a minute.”

Derek ignored his wife. He looked from Jenny to Brody and back. He was clearly uncomfortable with the subject. He went on the offensive again.

“How the fuck do you know we’ve got webcams?”

“We’ll come to that,” said Jenny. “When did you have them installed?” She deliberately went for a simple question this time, one that would generate a straight answer and hopefully lead them in the right direction.

Hilary answered, “Just over a year ago, right after we got our first nanny. A few weeks after she started I began to worry about Izzy when I was at work. Mother’s intuition or something. One of my regular customers at the florist told me about these nannycams you could get. So we did.”

“Did the nanny know you installed them?”

“No. And thank God she didn’t. That evil bitch was leaving Izzy crying her eyes out in her cot, without changing her nappy or anything, while she sunbathed out in the garden. She was smart enough not to listen to an iPod, because every time I came home from work she must have heard the car on the gravel and flew upstairs to deal with Izzy. But once I saw what she was up to on camera, I came home and caught her in the act, parking up the street and sneaking in quietly.”

“How do you access the webcam feeds?” asked Brody.

“The installers gave us both access to a secure website, just for us,” said Saxton. 

“Would you mind showing it to me?” Brody grabbed his shoulder bag from the floor. “I’ve got my computer here . . .”

“Sure,” said Hilary. 

Saxton closed his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head, as if resigning himself to what was happening.

Brody opened up his tablet, ensuring the keyboard was connected, making it look like a regular laptop. He said. “Actually, I’ll need to connect to your Wi-Fi. Would you mind entering the passcode here?” He turned the computer round to face the Saxtons. 

“I’ll just get the card with the Wi-Fi password printed on it. It’s by the router in the hallway.” 

Jenny thought she glimpsed a self-satisfied smirk on Brody’s face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

Hilary Saxton returned a moment later, handing Brody a card. He read out a series of numbers and letters as Hilary typed them in. Brody stood and walked around the table to be behind Hilary so that he could see the screen. Jenny stayed where she was. She wanted to be able to observe the Saxtons’ reactions.

“Okay, can you bring up the website you use?” said Brody. 

Hilary clicked and typed. Brody watched the screen. Jenny watched Saxton, who was visibly squirming.

Brody looked over to Jenny and said, “That’s interesting. They’re using a website called www.HomeWebCam.co.uk.”

Jenny grasped that this was a different site than www.SecretlyWatchingYou.com that Brody had showed her earlier, but wasn’t sure she understood the implications. She would ask Brody later.

“Derek, shall we use your logon?” asked Hilary.

“I can’t remember the password,” he replied. “Use yours.”

“I’m not sure if I can remember mine. It’s automatically entered when I log in from my own laptop.” She looked up at the ceiling as if seeking inspiration. “Hold on, I think I know what it is.”

Saxton dropped his head. Jenny was convinced there was something else going on here. He was visibly fidgeting.

A moment later, Brody, pointing at the screen over Hilary Saxton’s shoulder, said, “So you have three webcams in the house, do you? Let’s see. The Kitchen.” Brody turned around and waved at the wall behind him. “The baby’s bedroom. And, last but not least, the living room.” Standing behind the husband and wife and out of their line of sight, Brody raised his eyes theatrically to Jenny and silently mouthed the word, “Three?”

Jenny confirmed, “So every day, you go to work at the florists and log into this site from your laptop so that you can observe the nanny.”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Derek can log in from his office but he also has a HomeWebCam app on his phone that allows him to observe from any—”

Saxton placed a hand on his wife’s arm. “So what? I still don’t see what this has to do with anything. I want you to leave.” He stood up.

Jenny stood up as well, but she had no intention of leaving. Instead, she walked over to the wall where the camera must be. She studied every inch and then lifted the framed painting slightly. “Is the camera inside the frame, then?”

Derek turned around and answered smugly. “No. The camera needs a power source. It’s in the smoke detector.” Jenny looked upwards and studied the round device closely. She spotted a tiny grey bubble and guessed that was the lens. Impressive. Although she did feel a little stupid for suggesting the picture frame.

“It’s wireless presumably?” asked Brody.

“Yeah, it connects to the Wi-Fi network within the house and broadcasts to a receiver in a dedicated computer upstairs in my study. We access the feeds on the network video PC remotely from this secure website.”

“It all seems very professional, Mr Saxton,” said Jenny.

“Derek had a specialist firm do the installation. They were very good.”

Jenny sat back down, opposite Saxton. “Did Audri know about these webcams?”

Saxton held her gaze, his face impassive. His wife answered, “No, we never told the nannies. It would have defeated the point.”

“Are you sure?” Jenny asked watching Saxton. Brody had said earlier that he was sure that Audri knew about the cameras. The fact that he was letting his wife answer all the questions told her plenty.

“Of course we’re sure,” Hilary said, allowing some frustration to eek through into her voice.

“And it’s just these three cameras in the house, is it?”

Again, Saxton said nothing, but this time looked down in defeat as his wife answered for them both. He’d worked out that Jenny and Brody knew there were more webcams and he was powerless to stop it coming out in front of his wife.

“Were you here the day the installers put in all the webcams, Mrs Saxton?”

She thought for a moment and then said, “No. Derek handled it. I remember being impressed when I came home, because there was no mess at all.”

Jenny stayed silent. She hoped Brody would do the same. He had retreated to stand by the kitchen sink and, having zoned out of the conversation, was lost in his mobile phone, keying in something with both thumbs. Typical geek, a second to themselves and they have to play with their toys. But at least he was leaving her to drive the questioning.

Mrs Saxton looked at Jenny and then at her husband. She was making the mental leap from the line of Jenny’s questioning. Not quite wanting to confront what was becoming obvious, she asked her husband, “Derek, what’s going on?”

Derek opened his mouth, still ignoring his agitated wife. Instead, he spoke to Jenny. “When we were at the station, you agreed to some confidentialities. Why are you doing this now?”

“Because it may be relevant to the enquiry, Mr Saxton.”

“What do you mean, confidentialities?” Mrs Saxton’s voice wavered. And then, without warning, she stood up and slapped her husband across the face. Hard. “Bastard! You dirty pervert. You installed more than three cameras, didn’t you?”

Saxton stood and faced his wife, stroking the red mark on his cheek. He towered above her, but her aggressive stance evened up the standoff.

Saxton backed down. “Hilary,” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?
Sorry
?” she shouted incredulously. And then, in a slow voice, “How many Derek? How many cameras?”

He turned to Jenny with a look of malice and then back to his wife. “Seven.”

“Show me,” she demanded.

Brody placed his tablet PC back on the table and then stood back, out of Saxton’s range. “I’ve logged Mrs Saxton off the HomeWebCam site. Why don’t you log in under your credentials?”

Saxton didn’t move. Hilary Saxton placed her hands on her hips. He gave up and leaned down to type in his account name and password. Hilary Saxton watched in horror as the site presented all seven feeds. 

“Audri’s bedroom! I knew it. How could you, Derek?” 

He wisely stayed silent. Mrs Saxton then placed her hand over her mouth, which had dropped open. “Both bathrooms? And our bedroom! Why on earth . . .”

“There’s nothing untoward, darling. It was impulsive. When the installers were here, I just thought that we might as well get totally secure.”

“You don’t expect me to believe that load of codswallop do you? You’ve been watching Audri in her bedroom. And the nannies before her. How could you? They’re only young girls.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “What kind of pervert are you?” 

“I, I, I —” he stammered. “Darling, it’s not like that. Anyway, no one else can see them.”

“Ah,” said Brody from behind. The Saxtons turned at his voice. “There’s something you need to know.”

CHAPTER 12

The door to Crooner42’s apartment slammed shut behind him. He hurried passed the pinball machine while trying to unlock his smartphone. He miskeyed the passcode twice and had to stop and focus to get the right code. Once into the phone, he brought up the home automation app and clicked on the secret door icon. In front of him, the bookcase swung outwards.

As always, the bank of monitors displaying a selection of SWY locations greeted him. 

“Hello world,” he greeted the wall of webcam feeds, laughing to himself. Like many people when they learn computer programming, his first ever program had been coded to output the words, ‘Hello World’ to the computer’s display. He had always remembered that day fondly — the newfound sense of achievement and purpose solidified in seeing those two words appear on the computer screen.

His good spirits were down to the fact that he had Fingal beaten. And he mustn’t forget dear Matt_The_Hatter. Yes, him too. He sat down at the laptop. It was time to log into the CrackerHack forums and claim his victory. Publicly take Fingal’s crown. After all, it had now been forty-eight hours since the SWY pwn challenge had been accepted. And so far, the site remained completely intact. Nothing had broken through his defences. 

Another chuckle escaped his lips, as he navigated through to the correct forum.

Earlier this morning, just before he’d had to pop out, Crooner42 had deliberately posted aggressive taunts on the forum in an attempt to provoke a final response from Fingal. But the best he’d elicited were defensive statements from Doc_Doom on Fingal’s behalf. Crooner42 decided that after he’d dealt with Fingal, he’d go after Doc_Doom. That guy was a royal pain in the arse. Assuming he was even male; it was impossible to tell. Online, so many people pretended to be something they weren’t. After all, Crooner42 smiled to himself, he was an expert in that.

Crooner42 opened up another window and scanned the SWY logs one last time, just to make absolutely sure. He checked them for activity on the untraceable email address Fingal had used when registering on the SWY site. There was virtually no activity logged against the account, just a couple of logins earlier in the day and, as before, with the activity seemingly focused on the SWY location named
Au Pair Affair
. But, more importantly, his firewall logs showed that the unusual network activity from Fingal’s botnet had stopped altogether. 

Yes, Fingal had given up.

He flipped back to CrackerHack and scrolled and paged through the chat feed. He thought about how he would phrase his claim for victory. Should he be humble? No way! Should he be completely arrogant or just matter-of-fact? No matter what tone he chose, this was going to be a massive blow to Fingal’s status in the hacking community. But Crooner42 wanted to milk it. He decided on utter and absolute arrogance.