The Delta Chain (11 page)

William Westmeyer was a controlled man, but in this instance he showed anger to make his point. ‘What the hell is going on, Kate.’ He rose from his desk as she entered the office, flanked by Jackson Donnelly and Stephen Hunter. ‘I’m not ungrateful, I know you walked into the middle of this and you’ve been putting in long hours. But there’s been no improvement, if anything the problem’s worse, and situations like this one today are totally unacceptable.’

Kate had come straight from Hunter’s lab, where she’d isolated the virus in the DataStorming program and then deleted it. After shutting the system down, she’d rebooted. Hunter’s programs and data were intact, with the exception of the work he’d processed that afternoon.

‘It seems this is a mutating virus,’ Kate explained. ‘When we’ve isolated and deleted the infected data, as I’ve just done in Stephen’s lab, we’re not actually getting the core of the virus itself. It’s still lurking in the mainframe, triggered by an unknown code or signal.’ She glanced at each of them, and then focused once more on Westmeyer. ‘When that trigger occurs, I believe the virus is replicating itself in the form of a mini virus, which attaches to programs at random.’

‘Okay,’ said Hunter, ‘so that’s why there’s ongoing attacks. While you’re fixing one hole, another’s forming.’

‘Exactly. If it wasn’t for this mutating effect, the problem would’ve been solved long ago.’

‘But you swept the entire network with your anti-virus program,’ Donnelly said. Whenever Donnelly spoke to her, the simplest comment always came across with a sneer. He was one of the most obnoxious men Kate had ever met. This was not the first time she was struck by how Westmeyer’s right hand man was the complete opposite, in manner, outlook and appearance, to Westmeyer himself. Donnelly, crew cut and pug faced, reminded her of a boxer who’d hit middle age and was pissed off about it.

‘Yes. And at the time I believed it would be an end to the problem. But this particular virus has been designed to resist even the most sophisticated a-v software.’

‘And you still have no idea how this blasted thing got into my computer network, despite all our security precautions.’ Westmeyer was referring to the “firewalls”, set up to block any corrupted, incoming data, or hackers.

‘Not yet,’ said Kate. What she couldn’t reveal was the suspicion she’d shared with Betty. Only someone with inside knowledge could have created this bug.

‘We’re losing valuable new data – and time,’ Westmeyer said. ‘I’m sorry, Kate, but this can’t go on. I’m going to have to talk to your boss. I expected a hell of a lot better, frankly, from A.B.C.S.’

‘I understand. Believe me, I’m just as frustrated as you are. Talk to James, by all means. He’s been analysing the developments here. With a problem like this, the first step is to fully understand the nature of the virus itself, so that an anti-virus can be built. It’s just more complex than first anticipated.’

Westmeyer allowed his anger to subside. ‘Very well, Kate.’ As she turned to leave, be buzzed through to his secretary. ‘Belinda, get me James Reardon on the line.’

Back in his lab, Stephen Hunter was briefing one of his assistants, Jeff Redlich, on re-programming data, when Westmeyer strode in. ‘What’s the impact of all this to our timing?’

‘A day lost, maybe two.’

‘Damn.’

Hunter shrugged. ‘I’m as pissed as you are. I’m just counting myself lucky this is the first time my lab’s been affected.’

‘It should never have happened to any labs. Stephen, if that timing can be improved, let me know. Every day is crucial now we’re in the final phase.’

‘I’m doing everything I can. But do me a favour, keep that blasted ape Donnelly away from me and away from my lab.’

‘I’ve told you before, don’t worry about Donnelly-’

‘I don’t need stand-over men looking over my shoulder making stupid fucking comments. I know you think you need morons like that around, but as far as I’m concerned you should’ve left him working for the mob in New York, where he belongs.’

‘Just don’t concern yourself with Donnelly,’ Westmeyer repeated.

‘Come in, Adam.’ Eddie Cochrane waved Adam into the office, and closed the door behind him. ‘Gut feeling tells me you’re here about this drowning victim.’

Adam pulled up a chair as Eddie returned to his. ‘That’s what I’m here about.’

Eddie spread his arms in a gesture of bewilderment. ‘Amazing. In the space of a few hours I’ve had my star reporter tell me there’s a big story here, I’ve had the mayor on the phone telling me to back off, and now you’ve dropped by. What’s all the fuss about?’

‘There’s nothing to fuss about, but I agree you wouldn’t think that by the way everyone’s acting.’

‘You got that right.’ Eddie shook his head with a bemused expression. There was a part of him, a part of many newsmen, which enjoyed the fuss.

‘I’ve just come from Bingham’s office, so I know he spoke to you after his PR officer copped a call from Melanie Cail. I was concerned that, rather than quell the fuss, he may have piqued your curiosity further. And there’s no need.’

‘Why’s the mayor so concerned?’

‘Eddie, I think it’s just one of those days when emotions are in high gear. It’s an election year, the town’s birthday festival is coming up…’

‘Bingham thinks the festival will help his re-election chances.’

‘I’d say so. Melanie Cail wants to jump on this and turn it into something scary. It’s a hell of a stretch, Eddie, and it got the mayor’s ire up.’

‘Granted. But there is a link. Neither of the victims can be identified.’

‘The local Jane Doe was only found last night. You know very well it could take a few days to establish her identity.’

‘Maybe in the big city. Less likely in a small town like this one.’

‘It’s too early to draw comparisons. You know that, Eddie.’

‘I know.’ Eddie leaned forward, fixing Adam with a purposeful gaze. ‘Tell you what. I won’t run anything other than the known facts this week. Wouldn’t have, anyway. But if the girl hasn’t been identified by then, and if Melanie comes up with a strong angle on the two cases, then I’m going to run with it next week. And that’s fair.’

‘It’s what I wanted to hear.’

‘And I’ll tell you one more thing about all this. It fits a pattern that’s been around since the year dot, Adam. A possible reason certain people got all concerned and you and I can’t really understand why.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘There’s something else going on. Something they know about that we don’t.’

It had been a long, hard day and Kate was tired when she got home.

She wasn’t hungry, not after the smorgasbord lunch. She poured a glass of white wine and sat cross-legged on her sofa with her laptop.

Going to her email she found the file sent by Betty.

Ronda Lagan’s diary filled her screen. Kate entered the date Ronda began her assignment at Northern Rocks, then scrolled through from there, skipping the everyday details, looking for key words or passages that related to the workplace.

Something she hadn’t expected caught her eye.

“May 10: Stephen Hunter showed a lot of interest in my work today. Asked a lot of questions about IT and how we develop systems. Not what I expected of a research scientist, very handsome, almost a bit of a rogue.”

Not almost, thought Kate. She scrolled on.

Before she knew it she was reading another entry about Stephen Hunter.

“May 20: Stephen asked me out today and I actually said yes. I must be nuts. I’m sure he’s something of a devil, but I really like him. Never imagined he’d be interested in me.”

“May 21: Stephen took me to a lovely Thai restaurant. Later, we went strolling along the promenade. It was unseasonably balmy so we kicked off our shoes and sat on the sand and talked for hours. I don’t know what he could possibly see in me but we seem to be on the same wavelength. I really think we clicked.”

Rhonda and Stephen?

He never mentioned any of this to me.

Maybe there wasn’t any more, maybe there wasn’t anything to tell. Her curiosity piqued, Kate scrolled on. Rhonda had seen him again socially on the 23
^rd
and the 24
^th
. And then-

“May 25: Slept with Stephen tonight and it was wonderful. Something incredible is happening. I never expected to come to Northern Rocks and fall in love with an American scientist.”

In love? Kate’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t recall Stephen even being at Rhonda’s funeral.

What kind of man was he, Kate wondered, that he’d dated and slept with Rhonda Lagan, yet not travelled to Brisbane for her funeral? He hadn’t even mentioned the relationship less than a few months later, to Kate, when they’d dated.

Kate scrolled on, reminding herself she didn’t want personal info to divert her from the real purpose: to find out if there was any mention here about the virus.

“May 28: Two weeks ago a couple of desktop PC’s were brought to me with memory and speed problems. Normally I’d go to where the machines were located and work from there, but I was told the PC’s were about to be shifted to new spots anyway. No reason I would’ve thought any more of that. But, fact is, I haven’t seen those PC’s anywhere around the building and today the same technician brought another machine for repairs, using the same story. When I asked where that machine was being shifted to, he couldn’t tell me. Seems odd.”

“June 1: No evidence of that PC, or the two previous ones, coming into use on the Institute’s network. Strange?”

“June 2:Another PC brought in by the technician (I don’t know his name and rarely see him about), for sorting out a software glitch. Easy fix but I’m curious. At a discreet distance I followed the technician once he carried the machine off. He caught the lift down. All that’s down there is the lobby, the security office, the finance section and the parking station. I took the stairs down but there was no sign of the technician. I asked security and the receptionist but they hadn’t seen the technician. Weird? Or am I just over-imagining? I’ll ask Stephen, see what he thinks.”

“June 3: Spoke to Stephen today about the mystery computers. (He thinks management are probably setting up another admin section somewhere in the building.)”

“June 4: William Westmeyer called me to his office. He’s very happy with the new DataStorming program. Feeling good. This is a good gig, Stephen’s terrific, I love it here.”

Had Rhonda been thinking of staying on in Northern Rocks?

“June 5: Terrible, awful day. Someone must know my password because while I was out my PC was compromised. Who would do that? And why? I couldn’t find Westmeyer so I reported it to Tony Collosimo. Then I arrived home and found my flat burgled. TV and VCR gone. Luckily, I had my laptop with me. The police took down all the details, said it was a typical break-in, but something feels very odd about all this. Tried to phone Stephen but he wasn’t at home. Don’t think I’ll sleep tonight.”

And a further entry on the same day: “Betty’s on leave this week and James is away on business. I’ll wait until they’re back. They’ll know how to handle it from here.”

Kate felt a lump in her throat and swallowed hard. She knew that Ronda never had the chance to have such a discussion with either James or Betty.

“June 6: Where’s Stephen? He wasn’t at the Institute today. No answer at his apartment, Westmeyer’s out of town. Feeling unsettled. Tony will let me know if he learns anything about the break-in. Depressing day but at least I implemented my little plan. I’ve made a call to the local council, organised a copy of the Institute design plans.”

That was it. No more. And the last entry had been jumbled. What had Rhonda meant by her “little plan.” There was no reference anywhere to the virus.

Kate felt a sudden chill – she presumed Rhonda had written those words in the evening - the same night Rhonda died when her car went over the side of the cliff.

Why was Rhonda out driving later that night? Kate’s eyes welled with tears, something that surprised her. She hadn’t known Rhonda very well. She’d been saddened to hear of her colleague’s death. But reading these words, “…depressing day…’, the last day and the last words of Rhonda’s life, it was as though the full weight of the tragedy bore down on Kate for the first time. Tears slipped down her cheeks, soft, cool reminders of the fragility of life.

Kate reached for her notepad and jotted down two actions she intended to take. The first, to ask Collosimo if he’d followed up on Rhonda’s report about the password breach. The second, to obtain the council approved design plans that Ronda had wanted.

What had Rhonda been looking for?

The doorbell buzzed. It was Adam, as she expected, and as she ushered him in she noted his strained expression. ‘Bad day?’

‘Didn’t need to be.’ He flopped down on the sofa. ‘I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve ever enjoyed this job since Kirby’s been boss.’

‘Still bugs you big time, eh?’

‘It’s part of his job description.’

‘And you don’t really know why?’

‘No.’

Kate slipped her hand into his. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’ She positioned the laptop so that he could see the diary entry on the screen. ‘I’ve been reading through Rhonda Lagan’s diary.’

His eyes, though weary, showed his surprise. ‘Rhonda …?’

She explained her theory: that Ronda seemed the most likely person to have introduced a tailor made virus to the Institute’s network, and that the virus first appeared two days after her death. She told him how Rhonda’s personal diary, mysteriously deleted from her PC, was automatically backed up at A.B.C.S.

Adam listened with interest, looking on as Kate showed him certain key passages.

‘What do you think?’ Kate asked.

Adam went quiet for a moment, staring intently at the words on the monitor. ‘I agree it seems unusual. But Kate, there’s no real evidence. It’s a hell of a leap to think this virus, and the computers she couldn’t trace, and the burglary, are all somehow linked and are maybe even tied in with her car crash.’

‘I suppose you’re right. You think I should stop looking into it, don’t you?’