Authors: Catherine Jinks
‘Someone planted an information probe in Hazel’s system,’ Cadel explained. ‘It’s been gathering data.’
‘For whom?’
‘I don’t know. I was going to finish the trace today, before I went and tracked down that email.’ Cadel was suddenly struck by a dazzling idea. He straightened, and his whole face lit up. ‘Do you want to see?’ he eagerly inquired, anxious to commandeer the computer. ‘I can show you – ’ ‘No.’
‘But – ’
‘Listen.’ Saul put a hand on Cadel’s shoulder. ‘Don’t you
touch
that machine. It’s out of bounds. Understand?’
Cadel caught his breath.
‘What – what do you mean?’ he gasped.
‘If what you say is true, then we can’t risk having you go anywhere near the computer. Just in case.’
‘But that’s ridiculous.’ Cadel was shell-shocked. ‘There’s no risk. I’m going to reconfigure the cookie so that nothing will go out unless it’s tagged. And the tags will be like route-markers.’
‘No.’
‘But you can’t!’ Cadel cried. The horrible truth was finally beginning to sink in. ‘You can’t stop me using the
computer
!’
‘I have to.’ Saul moved his hand to the top of Cadel’s head, and bent down until they were eye to eye. ‘My first priority is to keep you safe,’ he said firmly. ‘That’s my job. We don’t know who we’re dealing with right now, so we can’t be too careful. There’s no saying what might happen if I let you wander about on-line unprotected.’
‘But I can protect
myself
on-line! Way better than anyone else could!’ Cadel found it hard to believe that Saul was unable to grasp this fact. ‘Don’t you understand? It’s what I do!’
‘Listen to me.’ Saul’s grip tightened on Cadel’s scalp. ‘There are people I can bring in here to conduct an on-line investigation. They can turn that machine inside-out in a couple of hours. They’re experts.’
‘So am I!’
‘Yes, I know. But you’re also the target.’ Saul’s tone was grave. ‘Your safety is paramount.
Paramount
. I don’t want Prosper English messing with your head.’
Cadel tried to speak, but he couldn’t. There was a lump in his throat. Something of the anguish that he felt must have shown in his face, because Saul’s own expression changed slightly. Before the detective could say anything, however, Hazel addressed him from beside the hot-water system.
‘Mr Greeniaus?’ she said, and he swung around.
‘Good morning, Mrs Donkin.’
‘Thomas
told
me you were here, but . . .’
‘It’s a little early, I know.’
‘Isn’t Miss Currey with you?’
‘No. I’m afraid we have a problem.’ Saul’s tone was very formal. Very official-sounding. ‘I’m afraid we’re gonna have to confiscate your computer for a short time.’
Hazel’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’.
‘We may not have to remove it from this site, but it will be out of bounds to all the occupants of your home,’ Saul went on. ‘Until such a time as we’re satisfied that it’s safe to use.’
‘But – but why?’ Hazel asked. Her glance shifted towards Cadel, who stiffened.
‘This isn’t Cadel’s fault,’ the detective quickly assured her. ‘On the contrary. He’s the one who uncovered the problem.’
‘But – ’
‘Let’s go inside, shall we? I need to make some calls.’
So they went inside, where Saul immediately took over the whole house. He dispatched a sullen Mace to the bus stop. He sent Hazel off to school with Janan, and left a message on Fiona’s voicemail. He put through a request for some kind of forensic information-technology team. Then he made a full report to his superior, using his own mobile phone.
When he’d finished, he settled in front of the computer and addressed Cadel, who was slumped on the living-room couch, fiddling with the TV remote.
‘Am I correct in thinking that Mr Donkin has already left for work?’ the detective asked.
‘He leaves early,’ Cadel replied, without glancing in Saul’s direction. ‘He works a morning shift.’
‘Then I’m out of order.’ Saul clicked his tongue. ‘I shouldn’t have sent Mrs Donkin away until Ms Currey arrived.’ After a moment he added, ‘I’m sorry, Cadel, I really am.’
Cadel said nothing. He stared straight ahead, glum and embittered, wondering why he had ever opened his big, fat, stupid mouth. It was all so
insulting
. First they’d taken away his computer. Now they were going to take over his trace. And what was he supposed to do in the meantime? Sit in front of the TV?
Slowly he became aware of the lengthening silence, and turned his head. Had Saul left the room? No; he was still perched on the typist’s chair, his clasped hands hanging between his knees. Quietly watching Cadel.
After a moment, Cadel discovered that he could no longer contain himself.
‘I’ve got to email Sonja,’ he insisted. ‘I’ve
got
to. And I can’t use the phone, because she can’t talk on the phone! I need a computer!’
They studied each other for perhaps half a minute. Then Saul said, ‘After I’ve finished here, I’ll take you to the library. You can email Sonja from there.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Cadel scoffed. ‘All the library computers will be booked out! They’re always booked out!’
‘Not if
I
ask for one,’ the detective retorted, with unassailable confidence. ‘Anyhow, it’ll only be one email. You can tell Sonja that you’re coming to visit her this afternoon. If you pay her a visit, you can talk to your heart’s content.’ Hearing Cadel sniff, he added, ‘I’ll even ask Mick and Ray to give you a lift. As a special favour. The only thing is . . .’ He hesitated. ‘The only thing is, you have to promise not to use her computer, or I can’t let you go.’
Cadel took a deep breath. His hands were crawling around in his lap. But his voice, when he spoke, was fairly steady.
‘You don’t understand,’ he said. ‘You just don’t understand . . .’
‘What don’t I understand?’
‘I’ve
got
to have a computer.’ Cadel was trying not to sound melodramatic. Or hysterical. Or downright mad. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to explain. ‘I’m not like other people,’ he said. ‘I might as well die if I don’t have one.’
Saul’s brows snapped together.
‘Come on, now,’ he objected. ‘It can’t be that bad.’
‘Stuck out here? With nothing to do?’ Cadel scowled. ‘Sometimes I almost wish Prosper
would
contact me. Just so I could talk to someone who understands!’
Saul stood up – so abruptly that Cadel flinched. But the detective didn’t seem cross. He was as calm as ever.
‘If Prosper English gave a good God-damn about you,’ he said flatly, ‘then he’d acknowledge that you were his son. He hasn’t, so he doesn’t. As for this computer ban, it won’t last long. Can you survive off-line for a day or two?’
It wasn’t a question. It was an order. Cadel knew that any further resistance would be futile.
‘I guess so,’ he muttered into his chest.
‘Good.’ The doorbell rang, but Saul didn’t let it interrupt him. Instead he kept talking, his arms folded, his eyes on Cadel. ‘In that case,’ he said, ‘I’ll make
you
a promise. I promise I’ll do all I can to get you the hell out of here.’
Cadel’s head jerked up. He stared at the detective in surprise.
‘You don’t belong in this place,’ Saul declared, as if stating the blindingly obvious. ‘You think I haven’t worked
that
out? I’m a detective. I can see what’s under my nose.’
Then he turned, and went to admit his forensic computer team into the Donkins’ house.
As it turned out, Cadel didn’t need a lift to the library after all. Because when Saul’s cyber-crime experts arrived, they were carrying a couple of laptops. Cadel used one of these laptops to send Sonja a message, announcing that he would visit her around lunchtime.
His mood had changed for the better since the appearance of Sid and Steve. In many ways they were
his
kind of people. Even though they wore jackets and ties, the jackets were too big for them, and the ties were covered in pictures of cartoon characters. Steve sported a goatee, and Sid had several holes in his right earlobe. Both tackled the Donkins’ computer with a breathless concentration that reminded Cadel of his old Infiltration classes at the Axis Institute. Though not brilliant, Sid and Steve were confident and capable. Cadel enjoyed their company.
He almost forgot his many problems as he and the two police tech-heads pored over Hazel’s infected programs. At first, Sid and Steve adopted a jauntily patronising tone when they addressed Cadel. This soon changed, however. By the time Fiona arrived, at about ten o’clock, they were positively
deferring
to Cadel – who couldn’t help preening himself a bit under their astonished regard.
‘Is everything all right?’ Fiona demanded breathlessly, pushing past Saul into the living room. ‘Hazel, what’s going on here?’
‘I don’t really know,’ Hazel replied. She was sitting meekly on the beige velour couch, nursing a cup of tea. ‘Apparently there’s something wrong with my computer.’
‘It’s been infiltrated,’ Saul said, then sprang to Cadel’s defence before the obvious question could even be asked. ‘By an unknown person,’ he added quickly.
‘And what’s Cadel doing?’ said Fiona.
‘I’m helping,’ Cadel interjected, knowing full well that she wouldn’t be happy to hear it. ‘You don’t have to worry. I’m only answering technical questions.’ Struck by a sudden thought, he turned to Saul Greeniaus. ‘By the way,’ he added, ‘I’ve finished that questionnaire from the NSA. It’s on my desk.’
Saul nodded, and retreated into Cadel’s bedroom. Fiona gazed around in a bewildered fashion. Her hair looked even more disarranged than usual; she was carrying an enormous, overstuffed handbag, and wearing another of her curiously retro outfits, which comprised a pink tweed suit and chunky little shoes.
‘So what do you want me to do, exactly?’ she asked. ‘Cadel?’
‘I don’t know.’ Already Cadel’s attention was being drawn back to the Donkins’ computer. ‘There,’ he said to Steve, pointing. ‘You see?’
Steve grunted. ‘You say you’ve been encrypting your emails?’ he queried.
‘Of course,’ Cadel replied.
‘Well, I hate to tell you this, but someone’s been capturing your keystrokes
before
they’re encrypted.’
‘A key logger?’ Cadel shook his head. ‘Nuh. I took that off ages ago. There was a whole lot of crap spyware installed on this thing, and I got rid of it all.’
‘What do you call this, then?’
‘
Excuse
me.’ Fiona had raised her voice. ‘I don’t want to interrupt, but can someone please explain why Cadel is being asked to help the police without having a lawyer present?’
Cadel tried to point out that he didn’t need a lawyer, but Fiona refused to listen. She took him into the kitchen, and told him quite forcefully that she had to look after his interests.
‘For all I know, you might be incriminating yourself just by talking about things that you’ve been doing on the computer,’ she said.
‘But that’s crazy.’ He was genuinely baffled. ‘How could I? All I’ve been doing is telling them about the hacker – ’
‘Cadel,
you
were a hacker, once. How do you know they won’t use this information against you?’
‘Because they couldn’t.’
‘Don’t be too sure of that. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you talk to them if I don’t know what you’re talking
about
. I’ll have to check with Mel Hofmeier first.’
Cadel looked at her hopelessly. It was clear that she did not –
could
not – comprehend.
‘But I know what I’m doing,’ he assured her. ‘I don’t need a lawyer’s advice. Why don’t you trust me?
I know what I’m doing
.’
‘Of course you do.’ (She sounded unconvinced, however.) ‘All the same, I have to follow the correct protocol. It’s been put in place to protect you.’
‘But – ’
‘You’re not an adult, Cadel. Legally, you can’t make these decisions. Would you like me to ring Mel?’
‘There’s no need,’ Saul interrupted. He was hovering in the doorway. ‘If you’re uneasy, we shan’t require Cadel’s input.’
‘But you
will
!’ Cadel didn’t want to be sidelined. ‘Sid will never trace that hacker without me! I’m
better
than he is!’
‘Nevertheless, he’ll manage,’ Saul replied. ‘If Ms Currey has reservations, of course we’ll proceed without your help.’
‘Then you won’t find the hacker,’ Cadel warned.
‘Maybe not.’
‘And what happens if you don’t? Will Hazel get her computer back? Will I be able to use it?’
‘We’ll decide that in due course.’
‘Cadel, it’s for your own good,’ Fiona interposed. ‘I realise you’re a computer whiz, but you don’t know much about legal procedure.’
‘Well that’s not
my
fault!’
‘I’m not saying it is. I’m just saying you have to be very, very careful.’
‘Not around me, he doesn’t.’ For the first time, there was an edge to Saul’s voice. ‘My job is to protect him, Ms Currey. I’m not trying to get him in trouble.’
‘Mr Greeniaus, I’m not questioning your motives. But I represent the Department of Community Services. Which means that
I’m
the one who has to protect Cadel.’
‘Is that so?’ Saul narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. ‘In that case,’ he murmured, ‘why don’t you get him the hell out of this place?’
Fiona’s head snapped back, as if she’d been punched.
‘What – what do you mean?’ she said.
‘Well, do
you
think he belongs here?’
Fiona took a deep breath, glancing over the detective’s shoulder to make sure that Hazel wasn’t listening.
‘Obviously, it’s not ideal – ’ she began.
‘Obviously,’ Saul growled.
‘ – but it’s only a temporary measure!’
‘And meanwhile he has to get beaten up by that thug with the crew-cut?’
Fiona gasped, and turned pale. ‘Is that true?’ she asked Cadel. ‘Did Thomas attack you?’
Cadel shifted uneasily. ‘Yeah,’ he mumbled. ‘I guess . . .’
‘You’re looking at an eye-witness here.’ Saul tapped his own chest with one finger. ‘I had to haul that juvie off him. So don’t talk to me about protecting Cadel. He’d be a lot safer somewhere else.’
‘I know.’
‘Somewhere he can use his brain – ’