The Apple of My Eye

by Mary Ellen Bramwell

  The commotion had done what our conversation hadn’t, and as the dispatcher answered the phone, both of my parents entered the room. It was hard to hear the 911 operator over my parent’s gasps, but I thought I made out, “Summerhill Police Department. What is your emergency?”

  The words came fast and disjointed. “This is Brea Cass. I’ve just had a man attack me in my home. He’s still here. I hit him in the head, so he’s passed out at the moment, but I’m afraid he’ll wake back up any minute.”

  She verified my location and immediately dispatched officers to my home. Then she instructed me to stay on the line until they arrived.

  As I held the phone, my mother relieved me of the gun, while still training it on the masked man. My father went into the garage and returned with a sledgehammer. They were going to protect their little girl just as I was trying to protect them and Noah.

  I think it took the police only a couple of minutes to arrive, but it felt like an hour, every second that passed another moment of fear that he would come to and fight like a caged animal, only without the benefits of the cage. In the meantime, the dispatcher was doing her best to calm me down.

  When I heard the knock at the door, I relayed that information to the dispatcher and hung up. Two officers had arrived, and I quickly brought them back to the great room to see the aftermath of my encounter, including my handiwork of knocking the intruder out cold. They started by pulling off his mask. I immediately recognized him as the second man from the funeral, the friend from Alex’s house, but then I had expected as much. They handcuffed him and in the process purposefully roused him. It was like watching my father catch a garter snake in the yard. I wanted to watch and make sure the animal was captured, but I was also afraid it would escape and come after me in the process. I hid behind my mother, even after she had handed the gun over to the police.

  Soon an additional set of officers arrived. They hauled my would-be attacker away, so the first two could sit down and take my statement. I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath until I let it out as my assailant was finally driven away. With relief, I turned to give my full attention to the officers still in my home.

  By the time they left, the morning sun was coming up over the horizon. I had not slept a wink, but I wasn’t tired since adrenalin was still pumping through my veins. I joined my mother at the kitchen table as if we were starting our normal breakfast routine.

  My father walked into the kitchen carrying the items from the great room. “Are these yours?”

  In all the chaos I had forgotten all about them. “Yes, I suppose they are.” I put my hands out to take the two objects from my dad. As he handed them to me, I noticed that a crack had opened at the seam of the credit card scanner. It must have happened when I hit the intruder with it. Grabbing a screwdriver from the kitchen catchall drawer, I pried the whole thing open. Wires and computer boards met my eye, and then a loose chip fell out onto the table. It was the last missing piece of my puzzle.

  I stared at it. With sudden clarity, everything now tied together. I looked up at my parents. “I think I know what this is all about! I need to do a little research on the internet to back up my theory, but I think I finally have the answer.”

  I don’t honestly know what their reaction was, being completely wrapped up in the apparent knowledge before me. I gathered up the Automatic Meter Reader and the pieces of the credit card machine. Without looking at my parents I said, “I’m going upstairs to do a little research. Will you call Detective Lentus for me to see when he’s free? I doubt he’s in yet, but I’m sure he’ll get any message you leave for him.”

  “Okay,” was all Mom said. Dad probably added his now familiar nod, but I was halfway up the stairs intent on finding the closure I was certain was at my fingertips. I’m sure my parents had questions, but they said nothing else.

  Upstairs I hastily put on some clean clothes not even bothering to shower. As I was gathering the relevant items from the safe, the phone rang.

  Not surprisingly, now that I knew him a little better, it was Lentus. “Mrs. Cass, I’m still at home, but I can be in the office in ten minutes if you’d like to meet then.”

  “Well, I need a couple of hours to check something out, and then I can meet you. Would ten o’clock be okay?” I asked.

  “Sure.” But unexpectedly he continued, “I was planning on calling you this morning anyway. We have Alex in custody. We picked him up yesterday. He’s not talking, and we haven’t been able to figure out who his partner is yet, but we’re checking his known associates. I’m sure we’ll catch him soon.”

  I quickly responded with, “Actually, you already have him in custody. Some of your fellow officers hauled him away from my house this morning. I don’t know his name, but he’s the other man from the funeral. We also had an interesting discussion while he was here.”

  “What?” was all he could get out.

  “I’ll give you all the details when I come in. I doubt the other officers have even had time to write up a report yet. When you picked up Alex, it must have spooked his partner. He came looking for what I knew. And, Detective, I know a lot more than I used to.”

  I could practically hear Detective Lentus salivating on the other end of the phone. With a smile, I simply added, “I’ll see you at ten,” although I was sure it would drive him crazy to wait that long. Regardless, I had to know what I was talking about before I showed up.

  Settling in front of the computer, I began the research that hopefully would confirm my theories. Ironically, I thought, a year ago Paul would have been doing this exact research. It would have been interesting to see his browser history from that time. I’m sure it would have been illuminating.

  In short order I found all that I needed. Satisfied, yet exhausted both physically and emotionally, I shut off the computer and climbed onto my bed. Tired as I was, sleep was elusive. I lay still, letting my mind wander and absorb recent events. Despite the summer season, I began to shiver. The sheer magnitude of all that had happened, and was still happening, overwhelmed my frame. I grabbed the comforter on my bed and wrapped my body inside its warmth, but my shaking would not subside.

  My thoughts turned to the gathering the previous evening. As I thought of each of my friends and family members, my body gradually warmed and calmed itself. Before long, I closed my eyes, bringing their faces to mind one after the other. As Professor Haynesworth’s face came to mind, I thought of what he had told me about Paul.

  I sat up with a start, all thoughts of sleep chased from my mind. I now understood something that had been troubling me. Why had Paul done it? I had asked myself that question not having a clue of the answer, but the professor had given me the key. Paul was all about the challenge! This elaborate scheme, I could easily see, would have been something that intrigued Paul. He would have wondered if it was possible. Once he determined it was, I imagine he would have been too caught up in what he could do, the challenge he had conquered. Not until it was too late would he have stopped to think if he should actually be going through with it. I smiled a sad smile thinking about what could have been.

  Paul had definitely made mistakes, but understanding why and how he made those mistakes gave me a sense of control back, even if it was tinged with sadness. But it also gave me courage. I was ready to tell Lentus the rest.

  TRUE CONFESSIONS

  I arrived at the police station in a timely manner, and as I suspected, Detective Lentus was standing by the door waiting for me. I wasn’t surprised to see his partner, Detective Higgins, standing beside him.

  They quickly ushered me into a room where we could talk. I could see the anticipation in their eyes. I didn’t bother to ask if they had checked on my assailant, feeling certain they already would have.

  Out of res
pect, they waited for me to begin, but I was as eager as they were to get this out in the open. “I have learned a lot more since I last sat down and talked with you. It started with this thumb drive,” I said, pulling Paul’s flash drive out of my bag. “Sometime after the break-in I noticed that Paul’s back-up flash drive was missing. I ended up finding it in a safe we have upstairs. It contains only two files, this program and this schematic,” showing them copies I had printed for them before coming. “I felt just as puzzled as you look right now. I couldn’t figure out how or if these connected to the robberies, so I neglected to tell you about them earlier. They were simply loose ends I couldn’t account for.” I reached into my bag again and pulled out the two items from Paul’s car. “Then yesterday, I found these two things under the front seat of Paul’s car.”

  I started with the rectangular object. “This is a credit card scanner. I looked up this model online this morning. Apparently, it’s a bit of an old style, but still commonly used in convenience stores. It attaches to the side of the cash register so the credit card can be swiped for payment. I recognized this model from somewhere. It’s the same as the one at Harper’s Mart, All-Nite Grocery, and…”

  “Stan’s Emporium and Corner Grocery,” Lentus completed for me.

  “Yes, exactly. The schematic here is of this very model.”

  “May I see that?” Lentus asked, pulling the schematic and credit card machine closer. He and Higgins looked from item to paper and back, noting the identical nature of each characteristic. “You’re right. It’s the same thing. But why did Paul have this?”

  “I’m getting to that. I was at the same point in my thinking as you are now when Alex’s accomplice surprised me. He broke into my house wanting to know how much I knew about the robberies. I didn’t know nearly as much as he thought I did, but he was rather talkative, and I learned a little more.” The two detectives were hanging on every word.

  “The relevant information at this point is what I learned about this credit card scanner. Eventually, I ended up hitting my intruder over the head with it.” They both raised their eyebrows at that. Apparently, they hadn’t been fully briefed about the incident at my home. Mixed with their surprise, I detected a hint of admiration in their eyes. I continued, “After I hit him, I noticed it was cracked open at the seam. Prying it open all the way I discovered this chip,” holding up the offending item. “That’s what made it all come together.”

  “Is this program you printed out from Paul’s thumb drive on that chip?” Detective Higgins asked.

  I was impressed. “I don’t have any way to check it, but yes, I believe it is. Earlier I was able to figure out the purpose of the programming code, at least what it did, but not why it was doing it. However, when I put it in the context of this chip, things start beginning to make sense.”

  They were still confused, but I understood that look. “Let me explain how this works. Have you ever been to a store and swiped your credit card only it didn’t seem to work, and you had to swipe it a second time?” They both nodded. “Have you ever worried that you might get charged twice for the same purchase because of that? But it hasn’t happened, has it?” Again, they were nodding their agreement.

  “Safeguards are built into the system to prevent that, so it doesn’t happen. Paul’s app played on that. Let me briefly explain what I just learned from my internet searches today about how all of this works. Harper’s Mart works through a bank to handle all its credit card transactions. So every time a credit card is swiped, an electronic transmission is sent to that bank, the merchant’s bank. That bank acts as a middleman and in turn sends a message to the cardholder’s bank to check for availability of funds. Based on the response they get back, they return a message to the store saying the charge is either authorized or denied.”

  They were nodding their heads, so I went on. “What Paul created was a fake swipe. His app, on this chip, when embedded in the credit card scanner, sent an electronic transmission to the merchant’s bank. It didn’t include any data; it wasn’t meant to. Instead it was acting like a swipe that didn’t quite work right, a fake ‘double swipe,’ if you will. It was sent with the sole purpose of producing a bogus error message indicating that a double swipe had occurred.”

  I could see they were still with me, understanding the steps so far. “But Paul’s app went further than that. You know how when you get an error message on your computer it attempts to identify what the problem is and what you might try as a potential solution?”

  “Yes,” it was Higgins again. “Did this error message do that somehow?”

  “It did. It asked the question, ‘If a double swipe just occurred, which card was double swiped?’ It then tapped into the information at the merchant’s bank to answer that question. It did this by going back one transaction, to the last successful credit card swipe processed at the bank, saying, in essence, ‘Aha! That was the correct swipe, this swipe is a mistake.’ Then, and here’s the key, it sent back the message to this chip, ‘You just made a double swipe of credit card # 1234-4567-7890 with this name, billing address and security code.’”

  “Wow! That’s brilliant!” Lentus was wide eyed. “It’s high tech credit card theft.”

  “That’s exactly what it is.” I was mortified at what my husband had done, but, like Lentus, I was a bit impressed at the same time. “The chip can send as many fake error message pulses as it wants. And every time a pulse is sent, a new credit card number with all its information is returned.”

  I could see the two detectives’ minds working. Higgins spoke first. “How is that information retrieved? How did these crooks get the credit card info back out of the chip?”

  “Exactly!” I picked up the reader. “This is the type of device used to read utility meters. It can read information from some range, for instance ten miles, away from the meter or, in this case, the credit card machine. As information is collected at the store, it is automatically sent to this device and wiped from the memory of the chip embedded in the credit card scanner. The beauty of this device is that you could take it anywhere within that defined radius and vary that location as often as you wanted. It’s not traceable to any specific address or location.”

  Higgins was processing it quickly. “If you’re right, the real credit card, the one whose information was stolen, could have been swiped virtually anywhere, at any store who used the same bank as Harper’s Mart. It would be incredibly hard to track down the source of the breach.”

  I nodded my head. “You’re catching on fast. As credit card information is stolen, the only common link would be the merchant bank, who is the middleman. The credit cards themselves may have been used at a huge variety of stores. Those various locations would be completely irrelevant, and any connection between them would only be coincidental. Even if the problem were narrowed down to one merchant bank, the leak is not technically at the bank, so it would be difficult to find its source.”

  Before I could continue, Higgins, with greater understanding dawning, broke in with, “If they used the same scheme at the other grocery stores that would really complicate matters, adding multiple merchant banks to the mix. Finding a common connection would then be even harder, making it difficult, at best, to trace where the stolen credit card information was coming from.”

  “Wow,” was the only thing Lentus could add as the magnitude of the credit card theft that could occur began to register.

  “Paul and his accomplices only staged robberies. They swiped what little cash was available, but having only a small take didn’t bother them, because it was never the point.” I said.

  Both detectives were following every word, and I could see the wheels churning. “Were they using the robberies to install the chip in the credit card scanners?” Lentus asked.

  “Close. I think they
had identical machines to those in the convenience stores. That explains why this credit card reader was in Paul’s car. I imagine it’s also the biggest reason for Paul to case them. He was checking for compatible machines. They could preload the scanners with the chip and then swap the old machine for their new and improved version.”

  “I see,” Higgins exclaimed. “That’s why in each robbery the clerk was told to lie face down on the ground. They didn’t want the clerk to see what they were up to. They were busy swapping out credit card scanners. Is that why Paul stepped in front of Mr. Walker, to block his view of what they were doing?”

  For once, I was the silent one.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound callous. I just got caught up in ...,” he quickly added.

  “No, it’s okay. It’s possible that’s what happened, but from everything I’ve learned, I believe Paul was done with this scheme. He really was trying to save Mr. Walker’s life.” I grew quiet, hesitating before continuing. “When that man broke into my house last night, he told me that Paul had tried to stop this before it got started. He tried to back out, but his two ‘friends’ wouldn’t hear it. They threatened to hurt Noah and me if he wouldn’t go through with it. I believe him. I don’t think he had any reason to lie to me about that.

  “It also fits with what I now know about Paul’s character. He was very intelligent and liked to see where that intelligence could take him, without considering if it was a place he should go. I did not know him to back down from anything, but I believe becoming a father changed him. At least, I hope that’s the case.”

  The shared excitement of discovery was dampened now. I soberly pushed forward, the honesty of the moment painful. “The plan was all Paul’s. He wrote the app. He figured out the credit card machine and meter reader angle. It was all him. He must have let Alex in on his scheme who then recruited the other man you have in custody for accosting me during the night. Only at the end did Paul realize what he was doing, he just realized it too late.