Blackmail

In the corner of a huge newsroom office, somewhat isolated, sat Robin Whitelaw, a junior researcher and a self-confessed geek, concentrating intently on data on a large computer screen, divided into four sections. He accentuated his geekyness, if there is such a word, by outlandish clothes and hairstyle. He seemed to be accepted by his colleagues, as exemplified by numerous gifts on the edge of his desk, a chocolate, bun cake, energy bar, styrene cup of coffee, deposited as the staff made their rounds. Rob was a useful guy to have around with his exceptional computer skills which he shared freely with his mates in the office.

His phone rang. It was an unusual caller so he quickly checked the identity and was surprised it emanated from a Senior Editor on the top floor. A formal announcement was necessary rather than an irritated sounding of “Rob,” who doesn’t want to be disturbed.

“Robin Whitelaw, how may I help you?” he answered in his poshest voice.

“Hi Rob, it’s Chris Martens from upstairs. Have you a moment?”

“Yes Mr. Martens, shall I come up?” answered Rob feeling a little apprehensive although he was normally confident if not rather brash.

“No need. I just want to congratulate and thank you for the impressive work on the blackmail case. Scotland Yard couldn’t crack it but you did and not only that, you discovered that the celeb in question was a paedophile even though he was being blackmailed for fraud and corruption on other matters. Two hits in one. How did you manage the paedo thing?”

“Yes Mr. Martens, thank you. I just went back into his email and PC accounts whilst searching for details of the blackmailer when I came across these files.”

“Just call me Chris please. Well done again. Now, what are you working on at the moment?”

“I’m just analysing the vast amounts of porn on the dark web. John Webster is writing an article on the subject. I’m helping him out,” answered Rob hoping that it was the right thing to say without getting his colleague into any bother.

“Yes, I heard about it. How are you approaching the subject?”

“As you may know, there are millions of web sites peddling this stuff. I’m just taking a sample of ten thousand entries posted on the dark web,” answered Rob wearily.

“That’s an awful lot. How are you managing it all?”

“Well, I’m sampling five videos at random from each web site and categorising them into subjects, male to male, male to female, female on female, children, torture, rape, snuff, sadism and animal stuff. I’ve also included a section from ‘Hurtcore’ a rather nasty site dealing with sexual physical abuse.”

“How in hell are you managing to do that? You can’t view them all? I hope not.”

“No. It’s quite simple. Each video is explicitly described in the title. I have a programme that just sifts them and downloads the title to my separate files,” answered Rob trying to be as brief as possible, with his confidence returning.

“Thank God for that!” answered Chris with a shocked voice. “I certainly don’t want ten thousand porn films held in our office. How are you going to present the results then?”

“Well, there’s no point in listing just the titles, I’m going to give them weight by the number of times they have been viewed to give a truer picture of which category gets the most hits.  For instance, the animal file has enormous hits, probably from incredulity,” answered Rob feeling far more confidant and returning to his brash self.

“OK, so which film got the highest viewing in the animal section?”

“Well, it was one involving a young girl and a wild boar.”

“Disgusting! I hope you will be finishing soon because I have a task for you which might be more interesting and instructive. I’m going to give you a list of the top hundred most influential businesspeople in Britain and I want you to find if they have any sleaze in their background that could make them targets for blackmail.”

“I could do that but what if I find that they are being either targeted or actually blackmailed. What do I do?” asked Rob feeling somewhat insecure again.

“We’ll consider the implications and action when we come across actual blackmail. I might as well tell you the purpose of our investigation.  Say someone or some political body is currently carrying out such investigation for the purpose of bringing the Country down. Say all these influential targets are forced to sell all their shares suddenly in one go. That would send cat amongst the pigeons in the financial world, probably instigating a financial crash. Financial institutions depend on trust and stability of key Companies and their heads.”

“So, you want me to delve into their backgrounds and find anything serious enough for them to carry out the demands of any blackmailer?”

“That’s right Rob. We can then probably defuse the situation, or at least the Government can decide what to do.”

“Mr Martens, isn’t it dangerous to hold such a file? What if it gets out?” answered Rob with severe apprehension.

“That’s why I’m asking you Rob, the expert, to do this discretely with utmost security in mind. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, but I would like something in writing. I don’t want to be seen doing this off my own bat.”

“Yes Rob, I totally understand. The results need to be encrypted to make them totally safe from prying eyes. Can you do that?”

“Yes, I think so Mr. Martens.”

“Now stop calling me Mr. Martens. We will be working on this together, a special project, very hush, hush. Come to my office at three and we will draw up terms of reference and I will give you the list. Complete the porn stuff ASAP and pass it off. I’ll tell your Head that you are working as researcher exclusively for me. You and the office will see it as a promotion which you richly deserve. That will quell the office tittle-tattle. OK, see you at three.”

“Hi Rob, come in and close the door. You’re going to give me a progress report?” said Chris Martin, ushering Rob to sit in a comfy chair at a coffee table and joining him. “Well, what have you got for me?”

“I’ve made a start and made good progress I think Chris. To get a clear picture of their backgrounds I’ve taken their current obituaries that we have on file. They are all quite elderly you see.”

“I get the picture.”

“To confuse anybody snooping I’ve selected a further five hundred obituaries at random. The hundred names you gave me are also in an encrypted file. What I’ve done is to check these files for commonality, same public school, university, private clubs, places of work, friends etc. I’ve also extended the commonality element to the other obituaries to see if there is a spread.”

“That seems a lot of work?” answered Chris, pouring Rob a coffee from the pot and pushing forward a pot containing milk and sugar.

“Thanks, I take mine black please. No problem, I just created a programme and it was done in a jiffy. My next step was to group your list by commonality. Surprisingly they came largely in the magic group of sevens which as you may know it the normal statistical number of major contacts a person has.”

“That’s clever of you? Have you progressed any further,” asked Chris, settling back in his chair, sipping his coffee.

“I’m in the process of taking each group in turn and adding further personal information such as phone numbers, email accounts, social media accounts, salary, pensions, assets such as property, shares.”

“Where are you getting this detail? It’s an awful lot methinks,” asked Chris putting his coffee down and showing concentrated interest.

“Forbes is useful, listing the rich and the Tax man gives me the latest salary details plus a lot more on offshore accounts,” answered Rob quite proudly.

“How can you get such private details?” asked Chris, now leaning forward with interest.

“Easy, all of them work for Limited Companies and their remuneration is public knowledge. What their Tax Returns might be are usually different and it’s easy to hack that information. Either from the Tax Office or from their email accounts,” answered Rob, expecting some rebuke.

“I presume you have filed all of this stuff? Have you discovered any compromising material worthy of blackmail yet?”

“There is some interesting accounting going on. Some have tax code lower than me or you.”

“What, have you been looking into my personal background?” answered Chris, with some indignity.

“Well, Mr. Martens, I wanted to ensure that the information I was collating was accurate for you to check. I’m afraid all this is freely available anyway for anybody interested. I needed a viable data point for accuracy, a control, if you see what I mean. I couldn’t go to anyone else. It’s important for you to check the accuracy of my work,” said Rob, taking on a defensive position.

“OK, OK, I take your point Rob. I was just aghast that my personal information was out there for anybody to scrutinise.”

“Well not anybody, but anybody with a modicum of PC skill and nouse can do it. I believe that MI5, MI6, the MET, all have training courses for their people. If you want to keep under the radar, then you have to keep all your personal data under the mattress and hope the burglars don’t discover it.”

“My, my, what is the world coming to?” answered Chris, relaxing back in his chair with an air of amazement. “Now apart from a bit of Tax evasion have you discovered anything interesting that a blackmailer can use?”

“It’s early days for that. I need to do a lot of preliminary work, especially on their private email accounts. It’s surprising how people fail to keep their private and office accounts totally separate. They send messages between them, therefore it’s easy to get into their accounts. It’s also easy to get into their mobile phone data through their email usage on their device or devices. They all have separate mobiles for official and personal use but they interchange communications between them, which is crazy. Anyone can hack into them.”

“You haven’t answered my question. Have you found anything yet?”

“Nothing serious other than Tax efficiency and a bit of flirting with staff and friends’ spouses. There’s a bit of soft porn about but I have to dig a lot deeper. I’m still collecting basic data,” answered Rob, trying to close the meeting by fidgeting to get up.

“OK Rob, I’ll let you get on. Make sure all is secure.”

 

 A week later, Rob barges into Chris’s office, his usual brash self and announces, “Hi Chris, I’ve had a breakthrough. Can I sit down, thanks, No sugar in mine, just black.”

“OK Rob, what have you got for me?” as he pours out the coffee and joins Rob at the informal seating area.

“I looked for subjects with multiple Email accounts. They generally have something to hide, then searched for multiple identities. That’s a real give away. Bingo, up to now, I have discovered a dozen of the listed having compromising detail hidden in the darkest recesses of the dark web. Hang on a moment Chris and let me finish. I need to check that these postings are valid and not emplaced by a third party ready to take advantage at some stage.”

“You’ve done well. All this is beyond my understanding. How did you uncover this?”

“Well let me give you an analogy which I use frequently to describe what I do, not how I do it. All typed in data on the internet leaves an imprint like footsteps in the snow. The next snowfall hides them but if you apply heat the prints reappear,” said Rob, rather proud of himself and his explanation.”

“I think I understand and I’ll not ask you about your process, only to ask could the results you have discovered be a basis for blackmail?” asked Chris, leaning forward from his chair with interest.

“Not half, but first I need to do some checks to see that this data is valid. It could easily have been planted as I have said before. Need to check who the true author is. Now in my searches I have discovered interesting traces. Every intrusion on the internet leaves a shadow. I have found that some other party has been doing a similar search on many of these people. It could be people in authority checking the credentials and security of these people. Or it could be an unscrupulous body searching for dirt,” said Rob looking rather smug.

“So, Rob, can you tell the difference between the good and the bad and more importantly can you trace who they are?”

“Well, that is always difficult but generally the ‘good’ as you call them are systematic in their approach whilst the ‘bad’ tend to focus on dishing the dirt. As to tracing them, the ‘good’ tend to be easy. They leave indicators. The ‘bad’ are more security conscious and try hard to hide their identity. They tend to use what we call ‘Avatars’,”

“What the hell are those? Apart from that film, I haven’t heard of them used in this context.”

“No, but it’s an often-used expression in paedophile cases where the guy grooming the kids uses an image of somebody else to entrap them. It’s like another identity. Again, it’s impossible to do without leaving a trace if you know how to follow it. They use different VPN servers and keep swapping them to hide their true identity. It takes a while but can be done especially if they are currently active. The good guys take one look and desist. The bad guys keep coming back for more peeks.”

“Have you made any discoveries yet?” asked Chris, letting his coffee go cold.

“I’ve traced one live one back to a server in the Philippines. At this early stage I’m not sure if it’s a State run, China or Russia or an independent gang. I’m doing some investigation on the encryption they use. That’s normally a give away. Russians tend to favour one type and the Chinese another, all usually home grown. The independents tend to pick at random, again usually the cheapest and the simplest.”

“Can you and have you unravelled the encrypted information?” asked Chris.

“Not yet until I build up a bigger picture and patterns develop. As I said before, I don’t want to leave a trace or ‘Shadow’ that they may detect.”

“Can you break the encryption?”

“Yes, it can be done. The independents tend not to change their systems so often so get caught out. If you are asking if I can do it, then the answer is yes but we have to have a very good reason for that because they will notice the hack.”

“OK, we will wait until you have more info. I have an important meeting I have to attend. We will pick up later. Thanks again for the good work.” 

 

  “Hi Rob, its Chris, have you made any progress since we last met? I’ve been rather too busy to see you.”

“I have made some amazing breakthroughs but I’d rather not talk on the phone. Can I come to your office now?”

“I have a better idea. Since this is to be only to be between you and me I suggest that we lunch at my club at one. It’s more discrete there and we won’t be disturbed. Jenny will give you the details.” Jenny did give some guidance but also warned that Chris could be a monster unless he wanted something for his own enhancement or enrichment.

“Had to go out and buy a shirt, jacket and tie as Jenny instructed, that’s why I’m late. Sorry,” uttered Rob a little out of breadth and feeling insecure in the august surroundings.

“How thoughtless of me. Give me your bills and I’ll put them through my account. Now settle down and don’t be cowed by the surroundings. This is where Britain does its main business. Many of the people on our list, lunch or dine here. No don’t look around, we don’t want to make ourselves conspicuous. Now, what have you got for me? You sounded excited earlier. Don’t worry about the menu, I’ve ordered the dish of the day for us both. Better than your cheese sandwich,” said Chris quietly, trying to put Rob at ease.

“Well Chris, I don’t really know where to begin. The thing is I’ve gone beyond the list you have given me since these people fitted nicely into groups. I hope you don’t mind?” said Rob in a whisper.

“As long as it suits the purpose then that’s fine but I’d rather have some quick results or indication that we are onto something and not wasting time.”

“No worries about that, all the extras are equally influential, rich and powerful. The groupings have shown up interesting, combined interests. Some innocuous but others probably quite dangerous if the intel got into the wrong hands.”

“Hang on the waiter is coming,” said Chris as the first course of lobster salad was served. “Go on.”

“Well, I have found up to now, covering only thirty percent of the list, about five different illicit activities, group sex, money laundering, drugs, cartels, insider dealings. These people seem to like to do these things together rather than individually. That’s why I have extended the list,” said Rob as he tucked into his lobster with gusto.

“I presume you think these activities are grounds for blackmail?”

“Absolutely, though they need more verification,” answered Rob polishing off his first course and eying up Chris’s dish which was almost untouched.

“You want this?” asked Chris and passed the plate over. “I’m too intrigued to eat and anyway it will do me good to miss a course.” said Chris patting his extended stomach.

“The reasons I think I’m onto something is that I have found traces of other people searching for the same thing in some of the people, not all.” 

“That’s very interesting. I don’t know or wish to know how you have found all this information but you have done well. What I want you to do is find out who the independents are, or at least one of them. I then want you to provide me with details of say five subjects, some that have been searched by this independent and some that haven’t been studied by anyone. I want paper copies that I will keep in my safe and destroy once I have digested them.”

“OK, but you know that might be dangerous once I start delving into these people. We don’t know who they are and they will have ways of tracking back.”

“Do your best and obviously be as discrete as possible. Now I have to leave you. I have spotted someone I need to talk to urgently so have my portion of lunch and don’t forget to order a dessert. If the beef is too rare then they will brown it up for you. Secondly, here is a spare key to my locker. You can keep a change of clothes in there for our future meetings. Please excuse me,” said Chris, leaving the dining room, heading for the club lounge, leaving Rob tucking in gratefully to the best lunch he had had for many years.    

On the pretence of a progress report, Rob arranged another meeting at Chris’s club. He was hungry and fed up with the fast foods he was more accustomed to rather out of laziness than the ability to cook. In fact, he was a fair and tasty cook having spent many days in France at his brother’s. He stood waiting in the foyer for Chris to arrive, now in a smart jacket, shirt, tie, trousers rather than jeans and black brogues. He even flattened his hair and donned a respectable pair of glasses rather than the National Health ones he normally wore to accent his geekiness. He looked a rather smart young man, a PA, rather than a scruffy researcher.

“Hi Rob, sorry for the delay. Meet Ray Plummer, Chief Editor also my boss. He asked to join us. Since we have made much pleasing progress, I have imparted the outline of your research and he would like to ask you a few questions. Our table’s ready let’s get started.”

“Let’s have some wine,” offered Ray, “You don’t mind do you Rob. We can do justice to a whole bottle between the three of us. Shame to waste some at the price it is. What do we reckon?   A  Bordeaux?”

“I would suggest the Cotes du Rhone,” suggested Rob, colouring up about his forwardness in the august company.

“So, you know about wine?” asked Chris as Ray pushed the wine menu over to Rob.

“Well, my brother is a wine merchant and has a vineyard in France, near Dijon. He gets lots of sample cases from the merchants and he brings me over a few cases of the best each time he comes over to London. I recognised the wine on the list and its good and better value than the Bordeaux.”

“That settles it. Waiter! The Cotes du Rhone please and some sparkling water,” said Ray as the waiter briskly walked away to consult with the sommelier. “So, tell us more about your brother. He buys wine and also makes it, does he?”

“Well not quite Mr. Plummer, he grows the grapes and sells the grape juice to the local Houses who then make the wine and sell it. At one time he was contracted to supply a certain quantity to one House but he thought he was being cheated so now he auctions it off to the highest bidder.”

“That’s interesting, tell us more and call me Ray.”

“Well at one time he used to make the surplus into his own wine. After the vendange there would still be lots of bunches left. The workers are on piecework and pick the easy ones so me and some of my mates would be invited over to help and go through the fields picking the rest. My brother would make all this into his own wine with nothing added. The House would buy the contracted quantity, check the quality of the juice and pay accordingly. My brother had to turn the fruit into juice and would be left with the skins and pips. These he would add to his brew to speed up the fermentation. The wine was cloudy since he didn’t bother clearing it with chemicals as the Houses did, but it was generally good.”

“So, the stuff we are drinking here is full of chemicals, is it?” asked Chris.

“Chemicals to clear it, to stabilise it, preserve it so that it doesn’t get corked,” answered Rob, having a taste of the glass in front of him. You can detect the chemicals in this wine if you know what you’re looking for but since it’s a 2014 then much of it has been masked by the tannin from the oak barrels.”

“I though we had come for a lesson on computing but this is far more interesting,” replied Ray, “Do go on and tell us more whilst we are waiting for the first course. You said your brother now auctions the wine?”

“Yeah, he started as a chemist so he himself tested his own grape juices and wines and the results would differ widely from the House chemist. Since he knew the local growers, buying their own home-made wine and selling it on to discerning buyers who didn’t want the chemicals and didn’t mind the cloudiness, he easily set up a cooperative. Each grower had their grape juice tested by an independent chemist and the Houses then had to bid for their share. The growers got a better and fairer price. They could also sell all of their juice rather than their contracted volume.”

“Now, what did he do with the skins and pips? I understand they compost them and spread it as fertiliser,” added Ray.

“Yes, but my brother first turns it into a kind of rough brandy which is rather strong. Fortunately, it mellows with age. All the growers have home stills. They say it keeps the cold out during the winter work on the fields. My brother now has an interesting outlet for the pips. On a visit to Spain, he found the olive oil manufactures turn the pips into charcoal and this is great demand for samovars in the former USSR countries. Grape pips are now equally in demand.”

“Well thanks for that insight. Here comes our first course, foie gras,” exclaimed Ray and added, “let’s eat and then get onto our main topic. Now, a last question for you Rob, can you tell us your brother’s name so that we can personally buy some good wines.”

“He doesn’t want his name bandied about but I can let you have a sample of his home-made wine and brandy plus some of the better wines he sells. My flat is awash with cases. By the way, I fancy this club is supplied by his recommendations going by this wine list.  Just use this as a guide,” answered Rob, feeling more confident now having expostulated on one of his favourite subjects other than Arsenal Football Club, but he wasn’t going to raise that.

“Thanks for the tips. Now Ray you had a question for Rob about his research,” said Chris.

“That’s what you brought me here for Chris but I got another bargain. Yes, our readers will no doubt be interested if not shocked by the intelligence you are uncovering, if we are allowed to publish, that is. There’s been a lot in the press, including ours, about internet grooming. The police generally have difficulties in finding the culprits. They seem to hide their identity extremely well. Our readers would like a simple explanation on how this done and how our authorities can stop it. Can you expound on that in a simple way please.”

“It is quite simple really, they hide their path by passing their messages through lots of different web servers called VPN’s, some of which hide their identity, so difficult to back track,” answered Rob as Chris and Ray listened intently. “The methodology is out there on various web sites explaining how to do this. Its not rocket science. The trick is not to leave a trail that traces back to you. The Governments ought to clamp down and eradicate such posts, terrorism, bomb making etc, etc. You even have sites explaining how to make suitcase nuclear devices at home. Not very powerful but very deadly.”

“OK Rob, we get the message and when you have finished your assignment with Chris then you can work on this and we will lobby the Government on behalf of our irate readers. This should stir up a real hornet’s nest that will improve our circulation. Now eat up, we will have to leave you soon but don’t you hurry, enjoy the rest of the wine and food,” added Ray as they folded their napkins and hurried off to the club lounge to lobby some important people.

Rob finished off his sumptuous lunch, changed into his ‘civies’ and caught the underground back to his flat. He emailed his brother asking for the name of a wine merchant in London that he supplies then filled two old wine cases with a selection of wines from ample supplies. These he took down to the foyer and called an Uber. The driver helped him load the two cases and drove him back to his office dropping him off and the cases at the tradesman entrance. There was no point he thought of advertising the fact he was presenting two executives with cases of wine. It would be good for his career.

Chris’s first task on the other hand was to have an old spare laptop sent to his office on which he proceeded to check the internet searching in Google “How to send anonymous messages.”  He got many pages of results which he perused with interest, printing off some of the instructions.

A few days later Rob opened an email from Ray Palmer thanking him for the gift and stating that he enjoyed the ‘home made’ wine and especially the brandy or Arak as he called it.  Chris seemed too busy to thank him though there was a message from his own direct boss to say he was due another five per cent pay rise and thanking him for his good work. The gift had paid dividends he thought, smiling to himself, getting down to his task with more enthusiasm and diligence.  Two days later he had the breakthrough that Chris had requested and eagerly called Jenny to arrange another lunch date at the club. He was taking a liking to this new experience.

The next day, at one sharp, Rob was presenting himself in his newfound smart attire at the foyer of the club. Even the doorman now recognised him and offered him to sit in the guest lounge to be called when Mr. Martens arrived.

“Hi Chris, good to see you again and thanks for the wine. An interesting selection so Ray tells me. I haven’t had time to sample any of mine. Let’s get some lunch and peruse the papers you are clutching.”

“Thanks for seeing me so quickly Chris. I’ll email you the name and address of the Wine merchant that supplies the wine to this club. They in turn purchase from my brother,” uttered Rob hoping he had done the right thing.

“That’s good, now you can peruse the menu and order anything you like, I’ll just have the house salad. These lunch meetings only delight my tailor. You can also choose the wine. They let you take the unfinished bottle home. Now what have you for me?”

“I’ve printed the material out as you requested at an internet café to be secure and leave no trace. This is explosive info and you should lock it in your safe,” suggested Rob sounding rather grave.

“I’ll do that, be assured. Have you a contact, an independent one for me?” asked Chris as he perused the papers, speed reading.

“It’s on the last page. It’s not a name but a post box address through which they can be contacted though I would only do that as a last resort. I don’t know who they are but they seem to be up to no good and their search is very professional. I had great difficulty tracing them.”

“Very well done there! I will take your advice and read and digest this material back at the office. You certainly have discovered a hell a lot of sleaze about these people.”

“I’ve just listed them as ‘A’ and ‘B’. ‘Bs’ are the ones searched by the independent mob. I have more detail but at this preliminary stage I thought you would have enough for me to continue.”

“Yes, yes Rob, do continue with the rest of the list. If this gets into the wrong hands it would be world shattering! I will share some of this with my superiors and they will decide where to take this. I presume that this is all encrypted and safe on your computer?” asked Chris.

“It is and it’s not on my computer. I copy and delete carefully all my searches. No one can find my results. I even search using different aliases. Some of the shadows will appear as searches by legal authorities doing a security scan on these people.”

“But haven’t they uncovered the incriminating evidence you have?”

“They don’t seem to dig as deeply as I have, nor have they grouped the people with similar interests. If one in the group has some bad stuff then one or all of the others will also be implicated. These guys tend to hunt like wolves, in a pack. I presume they can spread the blame when found out, or for protection. These are powerful people as you have said on many an occasion.”

“Well, that’s food for thought. Just carry on and don’t tell me where you keep this information hidden, its dynamite.”

Back in the office, Chris sits at his new computer pondering how he should progress the information that Rob has presented him. He had read and reread the sheets countless times. It was now time to take decisions and positive actions, also to contemplate the consequences. The consequences could be passed off as journalistic investigations if the information got into the wrong hands and there was a backlash. He took the bull by the horns and typed, ‘I have some incriminating evidence to sell, on the following people,’ He changed the ‘I’ to ‘We’  ‘The first two we know you are also investigating. The second two, you may be interested in. We have a further twenty that we are willing to share at a price. If you are willing to trade, place an Engagement announcement in this Friday’s UK Daily Telegraph in the name of Torentino, if NO interest then an Obituary message.’

Chris pondered and reread the message a few time as his mouse hovered over the ‘send’ window. What the hell he thought, he had organised a tortuous route for the mail as instructed by various Google posts. He pressed the ‘SEND’ window. He copied the message down by hand and proceeded to delete all evidence, even in the ‘Trash’ can.  It was four days to Friday and he couldn’t wait for the result.

In an opulent office in Marbella, Spain, a gentleman in an expensive blue suit, of Arab origin, picked up an internal phone and requested an audience. He raised himself from his chair and briskly walked down the wide marble corridor and knocked softly. The door was opened by a huge man, a guard and he was ushered in to a grand lounge where another man of Arab origin was sitting behind a huge desk, smoking a cigar and wearing an open top white shirt. “What have you got for me?” he uttered between puffs.

“This message has come through which may be of interest to us,” he said as he handed a printout to the man who grabbed it and read it quickly.

“Who is it from and is it genuine?”

“That I don’t know but we will soon find the origin. As you know we leave the Post Box address within easy access to catch anyone with the skills to pass most of our security measures. It looks like an independent rather than from any authority. The message is crude and long winded. The contact is unusual for its ingenuity. Do we proceed or bin is the question?”

“In the first instance I think we bin but suggest that they provide more detail of the first named person. Write a suitable obituary and we will wait and see.” At that moment there was a knock at the door and a message was passed through to the guard who immediately strode across the room and passed it to the man behind the desk. He took a puff of his cigar, unfolded the paper and read the contents. “Bless me if it doesn’t originate from a laptop belonging to someone at the Telegraph, London. The last use of the computer was last week with searches on Google about servers and previously it hadn’t been used for over three years. Could be a cast off but surely the Telegraph PC people would have wiped the hard disk or replaced it before disposing of a laptop. It’s a pretty dated machine, maybe stolen by an employee. Carry on as suggested.”

“We will and I’ll get them to thoroughly search the new people listed.”

“But that will leave a trace, wont it?”

“Yes, but any genuine party would expect that. It also shows that we are checking them out.

Friday the 21st, at 6am, Chris had the newspaper delivered to his office and his first unusual action was to search for the public announcements. No mention of ‘Torentino’ in the engagement section but there were a few lines in the Obituaries, reading, ‘Mr. Alfredo Torentino, a recluse, passed away suddenly in his bed. Family would like more information on their dear father by the 1st of the month to enable a full obituary.’

Chris picked up his phone and rang the obituary desk asking who placed the advert on Torentino. The reply was that it was placed by a regular news bureau two days ago specifying Friday’s paper. Yes, they would check with the bureau.

He pondered over the message. Its meaning was clear that they wanted to verify it was a genuine party and they wanted evidence before showing interest. His phone rang with the message that the bureau had no record of the request and were investigating the matter. Chris pondered a moment considering a reply and typed, ‘Money laundering, 5million D on 23rd, more, Condolence column Thurs if interested.’ Pressing send Chris sat back and pondered over his actions. The answer will be in the Telegraph on Thursday morning if they were interested.

The message was received in Marbella as the two men sat around the coffee table discussing the matter. The man in the blue suit pronounced first, “The information is accurate but the method of sending is crude. That might be just a ploy. He obviously has the talent to investigate extensively and find traces of us amongst it.”

“Can’t we hide the traces fully?”

“We do our best but this guy is capable of finding them. He or they must be good. More information has come through about the laptop. Again, it’s so crude that they must either be very clever or downright stupid. The laptop we know belonged to the Telegraph in London, purchased five years ago. Our man questioned the people in the PC department there, posing as the initial salesman, and was told that they still had it and had just recently handed it over to a Mr. Christopher Martens, an editor. The salesman told them that they had been advised by the maker that the computer hadn’t been used for some time and that the operating programme was widely out of date, suggesting that the person should do a manual update. The department guy said he would ring him immediately.”

“That shows that this laptop is being used at the paper. Do we have a time?”

“Yes Sir, it was used at 6.20am the first time and 6.16am the second.”

“Bit early for the editor to be in at his office but who knows.”

“I did check Sir and he habitually gets in early, leaves late.”

“Send the Condolence message suggesting a million for the lot.”  

     

 “We’ve had a message back from Martens. He’s greedy, he wants a million for each subject.”

“Hey, we are the ones supposedly doing the blackmail,” said the man behind the large desk. Any reason we can’t find the information ourselves?”

“No, we are just as capable and at least we know ours is genuine. Do you want to reply?”

“We need to reply but we need him to stop meddling in our business. We need to send a strong message to him and whoever is working for him to desist. One expects the authorities to do background checks but we don’t want to leave a cobweb of traces if lots of other people join in. We have already eliminated a lot of rivals and sent a strong message out there to keep off our domain.”

“A public assassination will have the local police and Interpol snooping, particularly since this Martens is a semi-public figure, working for a major news sheet.”

“Is anyone likely to trace it back to us?”

“Unlikely, but it will get the papers all agitated and strengthen our message to desist, particularly since it will come out in the investigation that they have been researching possible blackmail victims.”

“You’re so right there. This will be our front-page message, with no subtlety. Arrange a public execution with maximum audience, when staff are leaving the building, say lunchtime. The Brits always lunch,” ordered the man at the desk, taking an extra strong draw on his cigar.

Rob popped up to see Jenny to arrange another update meeting. She wasn’t at her station, so he popped into Chris’s office. He wasn’t there but he did spot an ancient laptop on his desk, plugged into the mains. Bad thoughts crossed his mind but then he thought it might be an innocuous present for a child which put him at ease. Chris wouldn’t be so stupid.

Next day Rob got a message from Jenny that she had arranged a meeting a 1pm sharp at the usual venue. Rob scooted out of the office and took the underground to Chris’s club, with plenty of time to get changed and smarten up. He sat in the guest lobby way past the allotted hour, when a receptionist popped her head round the door announcing ‘Mr. Whitelaw wanted for an urgent telephone call.” Rob jumped up and followed the receptionist who pointed to a cubicle off the entrance corridor.

“Rob its Jenny, something awful has happened here. Chris was involved in an accident, no a shooting and died on the way to hospital. You need to get back to the office,” shouted Jenny sounding very tearful.

“Oh my God! Where did this happen? In the office?”

“No outside. He was waiting for a cab to join you I presume. People said a motorbike sped past with a passenger who just shot at Chris. It’s dreadful. Everybody is shocked. The police are interviewing masses of people who witnessed the shooting.”

“I’m on my way back. I’ll catch an Uber. Now Jenny, I want you to do something important for me. Go into Chris’s office and you will find a second old fashion laptop. Please take it and hide it in your personal locker. It’s important you do it now, immediately.  I will explain when I get back. Do it now please.”

The Uber cab dropped him off a few streets away since the police had cordoned off the road. He had a problem getting past the police. They demanded identification and phone call to confirm. Rushing to Chris’s office he found Jenny in tears at her desk, being consoled by a colleague who was happy to leave when Rob arrived. 

“Have you got the laptop?” were his first words to Jenny as he pulled out a packet of paper hankies, opened them up and gave them to Jenny.

“Yes, I have it under the desk here, didn’t have time to put it on my locker. They say the police will be coming up soon,” uttered Jenny, still very upset and red around the eyes.

“You’re a star. Now Jenny, dry your eyes, you need to help me. I believe that this old laptop may have something to do with the incident. I want you to accompany me to the small interview room with your phone and bring your charger along too. I want you to witness what I do. It may come to nothing but there may be something there,” said Rob, picking up the laptop.

“OK Rob, I’m coming,” said Jenny, having stopped crying and followed Rob down the corridor.

“Right Jenny, plug in your charger and set your phone to video. I want you to look over my shoulder and record what’s on the screen. That’s it, just perch on the edge of the table so that you get a good view. I shall be talking all the time, describing what I’m doing. If we find something, we will go the police with our findings and you will be my witness. OK, lets start,” said Rob as he set up the laptop and started clearly describing what he was doing, with occasional encouraging glances towards Jenny. “Christ, he didn’t even use TOR programme to cover his track. I didn’t tell him but I didn’t expect him to do such a foolish thing. Nearly finished.”

  Twenty minutes later he had all the incriminating evidence he needed to show that Chris had been in contact with a blackmail gang.

“Wow Rob, I don’t know how you did it but you must be a genius. I also learned a few more swear words,” said Jenny, unplugging her phone.

“Keep it plugged in Jenny and replay it. Just want to check that we have captured the detail and my methodology. ie, I haven’t just made this up. Sorry about the swear words. I never thought that Chris would be so stupid to do what he did. He got in touch and tried to bargain with a bunch of crooks and paid the price. Now let’s watch.”  Fifteen minutes later, Jenny switched off and unplugged her phone and looked at Rob.

“What do we do now? What do we do with this material? Do you know Rob?”   

“Fortunately, I was involved in a case with the police recently, so I know the ropes. Now Jenny, switch your phone off altogether and take the battery out since it and the laptop are going to be evidence required by the police. You can have my phone if you like. I have others. Now I’ll put the laptop, your phone and charger in this black satchel of mine and you will call the desk downstairs and find out who is in charge of the police investigation,” said Rob, giving orders.

“Rob, they say it’s Chief Inspector Rawlinson from the Yard and he’s with Ray in his office at the moment,” said Jenny, putting the phone down.

“Oh, I’ve met him before,” said Rob. Now Jenny, you are in charge of allocating the personal lockers, aren’t you,” asked Rob and Jenny nodded. “Are there any empty ones that we can lock this stuff up?” Rob got another nod and followed Jenny out back to her desk where she collected a key and they trooped off to the locker room to deposit their evidence.

“Ray is not to be disturbed,” said Caroline, Ray’s Personal Assistant, “You can’t go in, he has an important visitor,”

“We know that Caroline but we have information that that will be helpful to the police,” said Jenny shouting at Caroline. “That’s why we are here, so pick up the bloody phone and announce us or I’ll bloody do it myself!”

“You can’t barge in here shouting your head off. Now go away before I call security,” ordered Caroline sternly. 

“Caroline, just do what Jenny asks and stop being pig headed, we know what we are doing,” shouted Rob, taking a hint from Jenny, sure enough, out barged Ray, looking very angry.

“What’s going on out here? Just stop the noise right away. What are you doing here Robin and you Jenny? Get back to work all of you,” ordered Ray.

“Sorry but we have important information relating to the Chris incident that Rawlinson would like to hear,” said Rob, almost pleading with Ray.

“OK, you’d better come in. This better be good and valid. I hate time wasters,” said Ray and ushered them in slamming the door. “Now what have you for us that brought you up here?”

“Hello Chief Inspector Rawlinson, we have met before. This is Jenny who PA’s for Chris. Now the information I’m going to give you is top secret so I will ask you all to switch off your mobile phones and Ray can you switch off and unplug your laptop and your desk phones. They are ideal listening devises. And Ray, please send Caroline out of the office. She is bound to be listening in now that we have raised her curiosity.”

“You can’t come in and order me around….,” said Ray but was interrupted by the Chief Inspector who was already turning off his mobile and tablet.

“Just do as he says Ray. It’s good sensible security if they are about to impart sensitive information.” Ray followed suite and ordered Caroline to pick up his dry cleaning right away. “Now having that settled what have you got for us that is so world shattering?”

“Well Sir, since my last episode with the police on that blackmail episode, Chris asked me to work on something similar for the paper. Jenny will back me up on that and we had lunch with you Ray at the club where this topic was raised plus some other elements that will be crucial to your investigation,” said Rob looking for some response.

“OK, go on Rob tell us more,” said the Chief Inspector.

“I was asked to investigate a hundred most influential businesspeople who could trigger a financial crash if they were blackmailed into selling their shares all at the same time. Chris eliminated Politicians as ineffectual. I have up to now, investigated more than half and also an equal number of associates, all influential.”

“Let me stop you for a moment Rob, when you say investigated, what was your methodology?”

“What you’re asking did I hack into their systems? Yes, I had to and have found a number of groups have incriminating evidence that could be potential for a blackmail threat. The important findings were that other bodies were also doing the same thing. They left traces of their searches.”

“This is serious Rob. Now was Jenny aware of any of this? Jenny?” asked the Chief Inspector.

“Well, I was curious and I overheard some of these discussions but I haven’t gossiped if that’s what you’re asking.”

 “Thank you, Jenny. That’s why Rob brought you in. Now Rob why do you think Chris was an unfortunate victim in all of this?”

“He got in touch with these people using very crude methods. They immediately traced it back to him and decided to publicly eliminate him to stop any further searches. I presumed they wanted it to be their sole domain for blackmail. I would suggest that the press and media hold back on the fact that this was an execution. They obviously want the publicity,” said Rob.

“Good thinking young man. You obviously understand the mind of these villains.  Do you happen to know who they may be or how to find them?”

“No but I do have some ideas but I would need some expert advice,” answered Rob.

“Right Ray we seemed to have solved the crime, not that we are going to tell anybody. Now because of the seriousness of the situation and the huge implications I am going to isolate these two for a while to help with our further investigations. I’m going to allow the plod to continue with their interviewing of witnesses which are largely your staff to show the villains we are in early stages of our investigations. At this moment we want the press to show we don’t know the motives behind the killing and generally spread the false information that it was a gang killing gone wrong. Mistaken identity we will call it. Now Rob do you know how Chris communicated with these villains?”

“Yes, via an old redundant Company laptop which we have locked up securely. Jenny videoed my searches so it’s all recorded.”

“Brilliant, that will save much time. Now I will arrange for a car to collect you two so stay in this office and bring the laptop. Don’t talk to anyone. Ray, take care what you publish, the less the better on facts and don’t let this information out of this room. This is a serious situation you have uncovered with National security implications. I shall be informing the PM when I leave. By the way, I have recorded all the conversations we have had here so there is evidence of my instructions,” said the Chief Inspector, pulling out his recorder and clicking it off. He rose, shook hands with all three and left the office, turning on his mobile as he left.

Within minutes two plain clothed policemen arrived, introduced themselves and escorted Jenny and Rob out of the building via the tradesman entrance. They were driven off in a white van emblazoned with paper supplier signs. They were driven off to a safe house where they were made comfortable. Two hours later they were whisked off to an office to be interrogated by computer experts who also examined the laptop and Jenny’s mobile recording. During their interrogation, Chief Inspector Rawlinson arrived with a question.

“Rob, since you are more au fait with this situation than any of us do you think we should respond in some way?”

“I think we should briefly, to acknowledge their action. What I would like, is the help of your experts to put a trace on the message that goes beyond their post box. Do you understand Sir?”

“Yes, I do, I have been regularly briefed on your progress. Our experts are impressed with your skills, not that I like hacking.”

The man, now in an expensive grey suit, walked into the spacious lounge and confronted the man sitting on a white leather sofa, perusing an Arabic newssheet.

“What have you for me?” asked the seated man, drawing on a large cigar.

“Another message arrived in our post box from the same Telegraph laptop saying simply, ‘You shouldn’t have done that!’  Sounds like a threat to me. There’s very little information in the press linking the killing with blackmail. They put it down to gang warfare and mistaken identity. The police are still carrying on with their investigation. They’ve found the abandoned motorbike and a witness who saw two Muslims walking off leaving their helmets on the bike.”

“There’s a lot of CTCV in London streets, make sure these guys disappear,” said the man on the sofa, in a cloud of cigar smoke.

“I have had some people phone the tabloids saying that they have information that the killing was linked to blackmail but the papers are calling these calls as conspiracy theories and ignoring them. Do we want to respond Sir?”

“No let’s bide our time. They know how to contact us. The question is can they trace us to here?”

“I doubt it. Our systems are very secure. I’ll get our people to check out the Met in London and Interpol for any increase in activity relating to us.”

Rob and Jenny were ensconced in a large office with a dozen men and women all gazing an array of screens in front of them. Jenny was acting as Office Manager, collating the information and ensuring the workers were focusing on the set tasks and not drifting off at tangents.

“Bingo, our tracer has landed,” shouted a man. “I have located them to a huge villa in Marbella and that’s where all the nasty crooks should hang out!” All the office gathered around his position as the man pointed out the villa on Google earth. “Hey Jerry, have you anything on these people at this address?”

“Just checking it out,” replied Jerry who was the Interpol Liaison Officer in the office. “Yeah, we have had the place under surveillance for years. We have details on all the people going in and out. It’s a bunch of quasi–Iranian Mafia, possibly working for their Government or an independent bunch. Their security is tight. We haven’t had any intel as yet to go in and break up their party. I’m reporting this directly to our top man. Don’t worry guys, its encrypted and in code. No security leaks from me.”

“OK, guys and galls, listen in,” shouted Jenny. “According to my chart we now have names and locations of all the members of this gang. I think it’s time to advise our people to swoop in and sweep them up before they get a hint and disappear.”

“We have already picked up the two Iranian assassins in Calais,” said another lady. “They are being held for carrying false passports and guess what? They had hidden firearms in their vehicle. The police haven’t told them of their discoveries so this incident shouldn’t worry their bosses too much, I hope.”

“OK guys, I’ve had a reply from my boss. All suspects will be picked up in a so-called training exercise at noon GMT today. They want their arrests to stick so they are arranging a drone to hover over the villa in Marbella, hoping the Iranians will shoot it down. If they don’t a neighbour will and Interpol disguised as local Guardia Civil will raid the premises on the pretence a firearm was discharged. They will arrest everybody, including the pool boy and search the place. Right guys, get back to normal work so that they or anybody else notices our shut down. There’s bound to be someone out there who is spying on us.

Two weeks later Rob and Jenny were called to an office and were met with a table of senior Interpol officers and Chief Inspector Rawlinson who they recognised.

“We called you in to thank you for the excellent investigation result, especially you Jenny who organised the office and had all the personnel working the objective. Your work Rob has raised a matter of State Security which we are handling at this very moment. I can inform you that we captured the whole Iranian network and they are all lingering in some secret prison being interrogated. Their Government has disowned them so as yet we don’t know who was pulling their strings. Yes Rob?”

“Sir, what’s happening to the potential victims of blackmail that we uncovered?”

“What you uncovered Rob. The ones with personal issues have been warned or put bluntly, blackmailed by the Government to change their ways instantly. The ones who were carrying on illegal matters have been told to desist and personally fined heavily. Incarcerating them all would lead to the desired outcome of the blackmailers and lead to a possible crash of the stock markets. They know they are being watched and are scared of more severe consequences.”

“Now that this investigation is over, what’s going to happen to me and Rob?” asked Jenny.

“Now you two are a big problem for us. We still think it’s not safe for you to be out in the open. You have effectively resigned from your jobs at the Telegraph. The trouble is that the Met and Interpol are in a major dispute as to who should have your services whilst you are off the radar. You Jenny for your organisational skills which we now realise we totally overlooked and Rob for you exceptional researching ability. We both will present you with application forms, salary scales and job descriptions to peruse and choose.”

A sleek launch glides up to a huge cruiser, a splendid gin palace, anchored in the Bay of Hong Kong. A hatch opens in the bows of the ship and a short ladder descends into the launch. A man, in a dark suit, nimbly climbs the ladder and is assisted by and armed guard. The hatch slams shut and the launch moves off.

“You’re late Hanguo!” utters a man of Chinese origin sitting in an armchair with a laptop on his knees. “True Hengchang, I was waiting for the last piece of information for the jigsaw you set me,” answered Hanguo, pulling an armchair close to Hengchang and placing a leather brief case on his lap, slipping the catches. “I have some interesting information for you. As you and we suspected, this person from the Telegraph in London, Mr. Christopher Martens, was just a bit player and pretty useless.”

“So have you found the person behind all this?” asked Hengchang putting his laptop aside.

“Some months ago, some petty criminals blackmailed an MP, who quite rightly informed the police for help. They couldn’t find the blackmailer through their system but a young researcher working at the Telegraph had the computer skills to find the culprit. Here, it’s headline news, front page of the Telegraph of course, telling the world how good they are at helping the police,” said Hanguo, handing over a copy of the cutting.

“So, we wasted our time eliminating this Mr. Martens. He was using information passed to him. This fellow no doubt had the skills to find the location of the Iranians. He did the job for us. I never liked them. They were so security conscious that they stood out like beacons and arrogant with it.”

“Too true,” replied Hanguo retrieving the cutting. “They prided themselves that they were invisible but by enclosing themselves in such a blanket of security they attracted the attention of Interpol immediately. They were under constant surveillance hoping that they would trip up and reveal their true colours.”

“This boat of mine is locally known as the ‘party boat.’ I have constant music and dancing couples on the top deck. Only the lower decks are secure. Even the Chinese and Russian agents ignore us. The armed guards are there to deter the uninvited riffraff and pirates. Now how did this Rob discover their location?”

“They set up a secure Post Box and since it was digital access only, this fellow cunningly attached a tracer which led Interpol directly to their hideout in Marbella. They just swooped down on the lot of them,” answered Hanguo crossing the cabin to the drink’s cabinet. “Shall I get you a drink?”  

“No thanks, too early for me. Now what are we going to do with this Rob fellow. I could give him a job but I doubt he would accept. Have we located him?”

“He conveniently resigned his post at the Telegraph, no doubt at the insistence of Interpol. Our man in Cheltenham CGHQ tells me he has turned up there under a different name. That was the last bit of information that I was waiting for. He is working in a secure building on something special. We can only surmise that he is continuing checking out potential blackmail candidates for his Government. Our man there heard a whisper that many on our own list have suddenly changed their ways. Some have been fined heavily and threatened with imprisonment.”

                 “OK Henguo, arrange to have him eliminated. Also arrange replacements                     house. Locate them in Paris or Brussels. That should satisfy our paymasters in Beijing and confuse our competitors,” ordered Hengchang.