Hi Elvis. I guess if you’re reading this, it means I’m dead. Bummer, huh? Needless to say if I am dead, I want you to know that it wasn’t by my own hand. And that stash of animal porn they’ve no doubt found – I was only looking after that as a favour to a friend. Okay?
Connor chuckled before reading on.
Anyway by now I am sure the authorities have moved on to their next sinister mission, safe in the knowledge that they have swept the board clean regarding the retrieval of their hard drive and its cesspit of secrets.
But they hadn’t figured on Stevie Brett, unsung computer genius.
What you have in your hand is a copy of their precious hard drive. The last remaining copy, no doubt. I sent it to the cafe you once took me to – as I suspect that “They” will still be monitoring your mail. Does that sexy wee waitress still work there? She had a drink’s name, if I recall. Martini, or something. She seemed to be well into you.
‘Used to be, mate,’ Connor said aloud.
Anyway Elvis, just remember that many Bothans died to bring you this information, so please make sure you blow up the Death Star this time.
All the best – from your no.1 geeky (ex)contact.
Connor smiled at the Star Wars references, although tears began to stream down his face. He hadn’t cried in years and now felt he couldn’t stop. He was in awe of the courage it had taken Stevie to write the letter, knowing full well he was going to die. Connor also admired his ingenuity. Sending the copy to the Peccadillo was his final masterstroke. His way of sticking two fingers up at the establishment.
April placed her hand on top of Connor’s and squeezed tightly as her colleague quietly sobbed away. It had been time for him to let it all out.
‘So what will you do now?’ April eventually asked when Connor’s crying had subsided.
‘I’ll get the information out there this time. And not through the Daily Chronicle,’ he replied, before blowing his nose loudly on one of the café’s paper napkins.
‘Beast Shamer?’ April asked hopefully.
‘Yeah, why not?’
‘How will you do that?’ April wondered.
Connor rooted around in his suit jacket pocket before producing a crumpled plain, white business card with the name Charlie McGill on it, along with a mobile phone number.
‘I retrieved it from the bin,’ Connor explained. ‘I figured I might need it someday. I think today’s the day.’
Acknowledgements
My heartfelt thanks to Roza for all things Russian. To Hassan for the Farsi translations. To my wife, Amanda, and aunt, Sam, for their medical assistance (who’d have suspected you both could be so lethal?). To Colin for his usual geeky technical advice, and to the serving member of the British Armed Forces for his invaluable expertise. As for my now retired colleague, Yvonne, I shall never forget you, thingummy. And ScotRail, without your many delays and cancelled services, I would never have found the time to complete this book, so thanks. I guess…
I am once again eternally gratefully for the faith shown in me by my publisher Sara and to my editor, Craig, who really does a magnificent and thankless job making sense of all my ramblings.
Thank you, too, to my small and loyal (but hopefully growing!) band of readers. Your words of encouragement and deep love expressed for April Lavender really do drive me on. Without you, I’d just be a bloke writing stories on a train. It’s nice to know someone is out there waiting to read them.
And finally, in case it’s not blindingly obvious, this is a work of fiction and (hopefully) humour. As far as the conspiracy theories are concerned – Princess Diana, Lord Lucan, Jack the Ripper, etc – I’m no more privy to what did and didn’t happen than your average punter with a broadband connection and a few hours to spare sniffing out facts, lies and the downright bonkers.
About the Author
Matt Bendoris was shortlisted for the Bloody Scotland Crime Book of the Year Award 2015 for his second novel, DM for Murder. He is a senior journalist with the Sun newspaper and was named Arts/Entertainment Journalist of the Year at the 2016 Press Awards. He has also ghost-written two showbiz autobiographies, including The Krankies’ Fan Dabi Dozi (John Blake Publishing, 2004), and Sydney Devine’s Simply Devine (Black and White Publishing, 2005). He lives in Scotland with his wife, Amanda, and their two children, Andrew and Brooke. In his spare time he enjoys running and he’s completed four marathons.
Copyright
Contraband is an imprint of Saraband
Published by Saraband,
Suite 202, 98 Woodlands Road,
Glasgow, G3 6HB, Scotland
www.saraband.net
Copyright © Matt Bendoris 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without first obtaining the written permission of the copyright owner.
ISBN: 9781910192481
ebook: 9781910192498
Wicked Leaks Page 26
