2 The Dante Connection (24 page)

Stress lines along Colin’s face told me that he was in the middle of a great internal struggle. It was always difficult to hold onto one’s anger when the perceived perpetrator had no knowledge of the wrong done. In Manny’s case, regret for the events that had taken place was in his verbal and nonverbal communication.

“When I refused to go at first, they told me the real reasons. And I was sworn to secrecy. It’s all kinds of top-secret information. Not even Jenny’s trust could make me tell you.”

“Oh, this is delicious.” Francine bounced in her chair. “A conspiracy.”

“Settle down, little girl.” Manny frowned at Colin. “There has always been information that some people were not privy to. I can deal with this. I don’t know if I can deal with you working for Interpol though.”

Vinnie’s snort drew our attention. He was chopping onions with an oversized knife that I knew I had never bought. The speed and accuracy of his knife-handling was disconcerting. Especially when he continued the controlled cutting without taking his eyes off Manny. I feared for his fingers.

“Who do you work for, arsehole?” Manny asked Vinnie.

“Manny, don’t antagonise.” I was growing weary of being a referee. It was beyond my understanding how Phillip could enjoy this.

“I work for myself, old man.” Vinnie buried the knife’s point in the wooden cutting board with such force that I thought it might have gone straight through and nicked my marble countertop. “I’m loyal to no institution, only to those I choose.”

Manny’s attention turned to Francine. She jumped up from her chair and grabbed her laptop. “No, no, no. You and your governments with all their conspiracies will never own me. Nobody owns me. I’m leaving. I might still have a trick or five up my sleeve to find Jonas.”

She left in a hurry, clutching her laptop to her chest and promising Vinnie that she’d be back for dinner. I was left with Colin and Manny at the table. The silence turned awkward. I considered my role finished. Manny started asking Colin questions about his level of security clearance, his jobs and many other things Colin couldn’t answer. Couldn’t or didn’t want to.

I was content that their body language and tone of voice did not warn of impending violence, so I pulled my notepad closer and started going over everything that we had discovered. All the clues had to be reconsidered in light of the new information. The emails, the packages, the bombs, the codes, the people involved. We needed to find out the next step Kubanov was planning. And what roles all these people had in his end goal, especially the hacker.

Chapter TWENTY-ONE

“
I knew it!” Francine’s proud voice got absorbed by the soundproofing of my viewing room. My sacred space felt crowded. Colin and Francine were sitting on either side of me and Vinnie was lurking behind us. Soon I was going to have to ask him to take a seat. His hulking size and the pacing behind me were hugely distracting. Francine wriggled in her chair. “This twerp is confirming everything I dug up.”

I didn’t have the energy to correct her. Even though Luc Alain had confirmed that he had recruited vulnerable, poor students to commit the robberies, it wasn’t Francine alone who had discovered this. Unused to teamwork, I had to admit that working with these people had been very efficient. Together we gathered information and connected it much faster than if I had been alone.

We were watching the hacker being interviewed in his hospital room. It had taken a few tense minutes to get the detectives to aim the cameras correctly for optimum viewing. They had blamed their lack of coffee early on a Monday morning for not being good with the cameras. I had been able to refrain from asking the relevance of the day and coffee.

I needed to see as much as possible of the young hacker’s body, especially his face. Eventually they had set up one camera for a close-up on his face. That shot was on the monitor right next to a wider shot from the second camera. Not only did I have a clear view of the hacker’s prone body on the hospital bed, but I could also observe the detectives asking the questions. That helped in giving me context, which in turn aided me in more accurate analysis.

Manny was standing out of camera view, sometimes moving just enough to reveal his shoes or a glimpse of his rumpled coat. He had been uncommonly accommodating when I asked him to ensure that the interview was recorded. The confrontation between Manny and Colin had changed the dynamics in our small group. Manny’s easy acquiescence to my request for him to wear an earpiece so that I could ask questions and direct the interview had also been unexpected.

Since the interview had started fifteen minutes ago, I had observed the young hacker being defiant, scared, arrogant, terrified, followed by co-operative. The detectives were the same two men who had interviewed the young thief three days ago. I liked them. They were now asking the hacker for the names of all the students he had recruited. I wasn’t interested in that information, so I studied everyone’s body language.

“And you did this all by yourself?” one detective asked after recording a lot of names, mostly male. Again he was dressed in a suit, his short hair neat and his manner authoritative, but relaxed.

“Of course. I’m one of the best.” His arrogant expression turned calculating. “Hey, maybe you could cut me a deal, you know. Like in the movies? I could start working for you guys and won’t have to go to prison.”

Francine pulled on my sleeve. “Tell Manny to ask him if there is any difference between MOVD and MOVQ instructions in ASM.”

Without asking for an explanation, I relayed the question to Manny. He stepped into view. “If you are as good as you say, tell me if there is any difference between MOVD and MOVQ instructions in ASM.”

The detectives glanced at Manny, but there was no resentment visible. They didn’t mind his interference. All three men focussed on the hacker, waiting for his answer. His
corrugator procerus
muscles pulled his brow into a worried frown, his
orbicularis
oculi
muscles increasing his blinking rate. He was losing confidence. Fast.

“There isn’t a difference.” He smirked. “It’s the same command, just in different compilers.”

I looked at Francine and she shook her head, a disgusted smile pulled at her full lips. I spoke into the microphone connected to Manny’s earpiece. “He’s wrong.”

Manny stepped forward, folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. The other two detectives had been able to get the hacker chatting, to get him relaxed. Manny was quite effective at being severely intimidating. “Young man, we both know you don’t know your arse from your elbow when it comes to MOVD and MOVQ instructions. Stop lying to us and start talking about the hacker who helped you. We know that you could not have done this alone.”

Luc looked helplessly at the two detectives and visibly relaxed when Manny moved back into his corner.

“Okay, fine. I will tell you. Just to let you know, in some circles I am considered to be a good hacker. It was P–” He hesitated and blinked furiously for a few seconds. I made a note of this. He was hiding something. “Um, I was recommended for this job. Most things were already arranged before the Mafia dude phoned me.”

‘What Mafia dude?” the other detective asked. His head was shaved, a shadow of hair forming a thin line around the lower circumference of his scull. I wondered if he shaved his hair because of convenience or to hide his baldness. People’s vanity fascinated me.

“The dude with the Mafia voice.” Luc’s answer pulled my attention away from the detective’s head. “He has this deep voice and the accent makes him sound sick.”

“Like he has the flu?” the bold detective asked.

“No, man, sick as in really cool. Like he was this bad-ass.” He rolled his eyes. “Old people. He also sounded old. He used very correct French when he spoke to me.”

“How many times did you speak?”

“Only the once. He wanted to make sure that I was on board with this thing.” The corner of his mouth pulled into a sneer. “He didn’t believe the word of people who trusted me. But after we spoke he was cool. He promised me that I’d get whatever help I needed to do this job. I mean, this dude was really something, you know? All powerful and shit. But since he was the guy organising everything and the guy with the money, I wasn’t going to complain. That night he paid me in cash. In advance. How sick is that?”

Both detectives closed their eyes for a moment. I supposed it was in exasperation with the young man’s inept use of language. I was interested in this lexicon. But the implication that Kubanov had been in direct contact with this young man was even more interesting. Was it him or one of his associates?

It was out of character for Kubanov to get involved in the execution of his plan. Even as a businessman, he would delegate the menial tasks. Or would he? Was this so important to him that he needed to personally oversee someone even as disposable as Luc?

“What kind of help did you get?” the first detective asked.

“Oh, you know. Some hacking help.” With his thumb and forefinger he rubbed down from the corners of his mouth to his chin. Blocking behaviour that indicated deception. The change in the two detectives’ postures told me they doubted his truthfulness.

“Some help or someone helping you to do it right?”

“Okay, fine, be like that. Yes, it was someone to help me with some stuff. I’m not that good. Not yet. But he taught me a lot of cool things. His sick skills helped me get into the security companies’ systems so that I could get all the specs I needed to organise the jobs.”

“Who is this guy? What is his name?” the bold detective asked.

“I only know him as DeathRabbit867. The whole hacker world knows him. He’s famous. Now, this dude is really sick. He has mad skills. There are only two hackers better than him. Rumour is that one is a chick. How sick is that?”

Francine’s gasp drew my attention away from the incorrect use of the word ‘sick’. I turned to her. “What is it?”

“DeathRabbit867 is Jonas.” She shook her head. “I knew this, but still can’t believe it. Even when I hear it from this twerp. How could Jonas stoop this low?”

On screen the detectives were insisting on a name, the handle being useless to them. I told Manny what Francine had said. “She’s already working on tracking him, so it’s not an efficient use of time to question him about that. Question him about the person who recommended him to Kubanov.”

‘The who?” Manny whispered through his teeth.

“Twice now his nonverbal cues showed that he was hiding something when he talked about being recommended to Kubanov. Either the person is in his circle of friends and is close to him or he respects this person highly. Ask him about it.” I was getting agitated wasting time explaining myself to Manny. “I don’t think he’ll answer you, but that’s okay. Ask him yes or no questions then.”

Manny stepped into view and glowered at the camera for a moment. I smiled. An annoyed Manny was familiar. The complying Manny was something I would have to get used to. He took another step to the bed. Luc pushed himself deeper into the pillows.

“Who recommended you to… the Mafia dude?” The last words came out with great distaste.

“Um, some friends?”

“You’re not sure? Earlier you sounded completely sure of who recommended you. You even sounded pissed off that your Mafia dude would not believe this person. Who is it?”

The young hacker’s chin pushed out. “I don’t know.”

It was the constant touching of his ear and mouth and the sudden stillness of his hands that gave his defiance away as a lie.

“Is it one of your university buddies?” Manny asked. I almost sighed with relief that he had taken my advice.

“No,” he snorted. “I don’t have university buddies. They’re all a bunch of losers anyway.”

“Is it one of your loser buddies?”

“My buddies are not losers.”

“A family member?”

“What is this?
Twenty Questions?
I told you, I don’t know who gave that dude my name.”

Manny glanced at the camera. I picked up the microphone. “He knows who recommended him. But you haven’t asked the right questions. Not yet. Continue.”

Manny glared into the camera again before turning his annoyance to Luc. “Is it one of your hacker buddies?”

Luc didn’t respond, his lips tight and his hands in fists on the covers.

“Is it someone at the university?”

I jumped in my chair and pointed at the monitor. “There. Look.” I grabbed the microphone. “It is someone at the university. Ask him which one.”

Just as Manny leaned closer, two medical personnel stepped into the room. “Sirs, we have to ask you to leave now. The patient is still recovering from major surgery and the stress is not helping him.”

The one doctor walked to the equipment attached to Luc, frowning at the display screens. “Oh, yes. You definitely have to leave. You’ve been here for more than an hour already. You can come back late this afternoon or tomorrow. Right now Monsieur Alain needs to take his medicine and rest.”

A few more minutes of arguing could not dissuade the doctors. They were adamant. Manny shrugged at the camera. “Guess this will have to do, Doc. Hope it is enough.”

“It will do.” I was deeply disappointed that Manny hadn’t been able to ask any more questions.

Within a minute the monitors were dark. I turned to Francine. “We have to find out who this person at the university is.”

“I’ll check his old laptop for that.”

“What old laptop?” Colin asked.

“Oh yes, I didn’t tell you. When the police were going through Luc’s flat, they found a very old laptop in a hidey-hole. They brought it to our flat late last night. Manny had insisted that I immediately look at it even though it was almost two o’clock. I had a peek at it and it looks like he had been using it only at places with Wi-Fi, like cafés and restaurants.” She rolled her eyes. “Just shows you what an amateur he is. A pro would have used a strong antenna to connect to other people’s Wi-Fi networks. I’m sure there will be some interesting internet history on this old laptop. It might even give me some leads to find Kubanov and Jonas.”

“And the person at the university,” I said. “Kubanov is planning something big. In order to get ahead of his planning, we need to understand all the players involved.”

“Sounds like chess,” Vinnie said.

I turned around in my chair and smiled. “An apt comparison. He has a strategy, each move planned in detail. Without knowing who else is involved, we might miss essential players and the roles they are supposed to fulfil. Everyone we’ve found so far has been used by Kubanov towards an end goal. They all had their individual purposes and were chosen with care. Why them? Who else is there? If we put everyone together, what holistic view will we have?”

“Those are big questions, Jen-girl.”

“Questions we’re not going to get answers to sitting here,” Francine said.

We talked for a few more minutes and agreed that Francine and Vinnie would go home. I stayed behind with Colin and for the next few hours I watched the footage again and again, making sure I hadn’t missed anything. Not a verbal or nonverbal clue. I needed more information, more data to tie everything together.

Five minutes after my asking him, Colin was driving us home. Fifteen minutes later we were in his apartment. Not mine. I wanted to be in my apartment, but Francine and all her computers were in his.

We walked into her spacious bedroom and I gasped. Loudly. Colin cleared his throat behind me in what sounded like an attempt to hide laughter.

Francine looked up from where she was sitting on her bed. She had changed her outfit. Now she was wearing a deep blue turtleneck sweater, jeans and those silly pink house-boots. She still managed to look like she was posing for a fashion magazine, her long black hair glossy and her make-up subtle, but perfect.