God is a Gamer

by Ravi Subramanian

‘Gillian Tan chaired the classified committee on alternative currency. It is a committee of financial sector reforms, and bitcoins are among its most important agenda items. I would like to see the minutes of the meetings, sir. I’m told that Gillian Tan, the libertarian, was a huge supporter of bitcoins, till he had a change of heart because of some personal incidents, and turned completely against them.

  ‘The minutes are classified so I can’t make any promises but I’ll try my best.’ And Mike Hendricks disconnected the line.

  Adrian was confused. He looked at Tony. The message was strange. What confused him even more was the fact that the President had chosen to convey it to him so late in the day. Why had he waited for so long?’ He described the conversation to Tony.

  The phone rang again. Mike Hendricks again.

  ‘A day before he was killed, Gillian did chair a meeting of financial sector reforms. Contrary to what you indicated, he made a strong pitch to make bitcoins legal tender. Call me if you need anything else.’

  Adrian was quiet for a long time. ‘Tony,’ he finally said, ‘didn’t Gloria say that Gillian had threatened to ban bitcoins and Cotton Trail?’

  Tony was not in the room. Adrian looked around, walked out of the room, and asked his secretary. That’s when he saw Tony rushing back towards him.

  ‘Where the hell did you disappear, Tony?’ he yelled.

  ‘This looks strange, Adrian.’ Tony said, without bothering to respond to Adrian’s question. ‘We have thoroughly checked all police records for the last three years. Gloria’s name does not figure in them, neither as a convict, nor as a rounded up suspect. In fact there is no trace of the busted party that you mentioned. It seems to have been wiped off the police records.’

  ‘Her father was an influential senator, Tony,’ Adrian reasoned. ‘He could have got the records erased.’

  ‘But didn’t I hear you say that Gloria told you that Gillian didn’t know about the incident?’ Tony’s question left Adrian searching for answers.

  62

  Washington DC

  Adrian relayed the conversation to Dan.

  ‘A call from the President’s office has to mean something.’

  ‘We don’t even know if the message has the President’s endorsement. To me, this is a pink elephant,’ announced Dan, confidently.

  ‘Pink elephant?’

  ‘Yes. Remember Richard Nixon and Watergate? The most famous nine words ever spoken, words that rocked a nation!’

  ‘Dan, please! I’m a bit slow. Can you please be specific?’

  ‘At the peak of the Watergate scandal, in 1973, President Nixon went on air and said, “There can be no Whitewash in the White House.” These nine words turned the American nation against their President. Till then, people hadn’t linked the White House with a cover-up until Nixon himself made the connection. His own denial created the story. A pink elephant, Adrian, is a negative in a conversation that gives you hints on what is being covered up.’

  ‘Does that mean that Mike has inadvertently told us what to look for?’

  ‘He is scared that we will unearth something that could spell trouble for him and probably the President. Something you have done recently has got to him.’

  ‘And that is mired in the personal lives of the Tans.’

  Adrian began to make all kinds of connections in his head.

  Dan disappeared into the bar, and returned with a bottle of Glenmorangie and three glasses. He told Tony, ‘If you want ice, you will have to get it from the basement.’ He poured out three large drinks.

  ‘Coming back to Altoids . . . and the ad he posted on bitcointalk.org. The ad was quite revealing. It said: I am creating an economic simulation to give people first-hand experience of what it would be like to live in a world without the systematic use of force. Need an IT professional who is well versed in the TOR, and willing to adapt to the world of bitcoins.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘That he wants to create a world of bitcoins. A world without borders. Where capital can flow freely without government control. Everyone anonymous yet free.’

  ‘Isn’t that what Satoshi Nakamoto wanted? The creator of bitcoin. The ultimate Libertarian. He sounds so much like how Satoshi would have sounded. Is Altoids the founder of bitcoins?

  ‘We can’t say that conclusively but Altoids definitely is the promoter of Cotton Trail.’

  ‘You seem to be extremely confident about that?’

  ‘Hold on. I haven’t told you the most important thing yet. Whoever he is, he did slip up once.’ Dan announced, with a grin.

  ‘While we do not know who Frosty@frosty.com is, the FBI has the source code of Cotton Trail. Ed Walsch told you that, didn’t he?’

  Adrian nodded.

  ‘Given the illegal nature of Cotton Trail, it is fair to expect that the person managing it would not log in from the same spot repeatedly. Restricting mobility would mean vulnerability They would be on the run most of the time.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘However, when we analysed the source code of Cotton Trail, it showed that the admin section can only be accessed through a unique IP address. That would mean someone was logging in either from the same computer or the same wi-fi router. Clearly a contradiction, unless . . .’

  Adrian was listening quietly.

  ‘. . . unless Frosty or Altoids, or whosoever it is, uses a Virtual Private Network or VPN to log in to Cotton Trail.’

  ‘How do you say that . . . in English, Dan?’

  ‘I thought you would know!’

  ‘For a minute, let’s pretend that I don’t.’

  ‘Okay, okay! If they use a VPN, they can log in to Cotton Trail from anywhere. A VPN can be accessed through a code known only to those who use it. A VPN will trick Cotton Trail into reading the IP address as a unique address hardcoded into the Cotton Trail source code. Hence they get the desired mobility as well as security. It’s common for banks to use it. When customers log into the Internet banking facility of a bank, they log in through a VPN, using their passwords.’

  ‘Okay!’ Adrian nodded. He hadn’t understood it completely but he knew that he would pick up as the discussion progressed.

  ‘Two months ago, the email account Frosty@frosty.com was accessed from an Internet cafe in Washington DC’ He paused. ‘Two minutes before this email was accessed, the VPN network was accessed from the same Internet cafe. From the same computer. The VPN provider, under fear of a subpoena and a threat to cancel his licence, gave me the details this morning.’

  ‘Are you saying that Frosty and Altoids are the same?’

  ‘Yeah! Altoids, for sure, is one of the admins. Unless, of course, Altoids went to the same Internet cafe at the same time as Frosty, and sat at the same computer around the same time’

  When he saw the worried look on Adrian’s face, Dan added, ‘Our friend is not particularly careful. He is leaving trails wherever he goes. So I’m sure we will get something on him soon. He is not as smart as he thinks he is.’

  Adrian thanked Dan and got up to leave. Dan gave him the papers he had printed out. ‘Remember, these cannot be used as evidence, because we haven’t obtained these formally from Google and the VPN service providers. You will have to go through the process if you crack this case.’

  ‘Thanks, Dan,’ Adrian said, accepting the papers. He was about to hand them on to Tony, when he noticed a map showing the location of the Internet cafe. ‘Is this where the last login was registered?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ said Dan.

  ‘It’s just not possible.’

  Tony looked at him wondering what went wrong. Dan was also curious.

  ‘This is less than half a mile from the Tan residence.’

  63

  Mumbai

  Swami was in office. He still had a month of his notice period to serve. He’d asked Matt if he wanted him to go on gardening leave and not come to office but Matt had graciously told him to continue as head of retail banking till the last day of
the notice period. He did not want Swami to go out in a fit of rage. That would have been detrimental to the morale of the team.

  A buzz from his computer alerted Swami. Someone had pinged him.

  ‘Hi, sir!’

  Mukund had pinged him on Sametime, NYIB’s internal chat interface. He was in charge of foreign exchange remittances.

  ‘Yes, Mukund?’

  ‘Sir, I’ve sent you an approval request for Vaishnavi Metal Strips. You need to sign off.’

  ‘What approval is it?’

  ‘Sir, they are remitting 750,000 dollars overseas to settle an import bill.’

  ‘Can you scan and send me the bills please?’

  ‘Already done, sir. Should be in your inbox by now.’

  ‘Let me see.’

  ‘Okay, sir, we are nearing our cut off time. So if you could look at it and let me know, it will be great.’

  Mukund was in the trade finance department. Three quarters of a million dollars overseas remittance for a retail bank customer was a huge sum of money.

  Swami scrutinized the bill. Vaishnavi Metal Strips had imported furnaces and ovens for diffusion, oxidation, or annealing of semiconductor wafers. Something didn’t add up. Why would Vaishnavi, which was into steel trading, import material normally used by semiconductor companies?

  He pinged back. ‘Hi, Mukund, I have a few questions about the bill.’

  ‘Yes, sir, please tell me.’

  ‘Why does Vaishnavi need to import this?’

  ‘Not too sure, sir.’

  ‘Has anyone inspected and physically verified the imports?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Aren’t you supposed to do so before you release large foreign exchange?’

  ‘We do it in the normal course of business but in the case of Vaishnavi, Malvika had asked us to release funds without verification.’

  ‘Do you have it on record?’

  ‘Yes, sir, approval by mail.’

  ‘Whatever Malvika did . . . well, she did what she did. I

  need to see the consignment before I approve. Meet me in ten minutes.’

  Swami had never done anything like that. He was just acting on instinct.

  And his instinct proved right. The consignment turned out to be a heap of rags neatly packed with layers of insulation and other material, designed to give it much-needed authenticity and, more important, to ward off any attempt at opening the boxes. The goods mentioned in the import bill were nowhere to be seen. It was a clear case of fraud. The importers were remitting money overseas for goods that were never imported in the first place.

  ‘Tell Vaishnavi that we will not remit the amount. Also inform them that we will report them for a fraudulent attempt to launder money.’

  ‘Sir, they were very close to Malvika.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘In the last year, they have remitted funds at least four or five times, and Malvika had signed off on each of those transactions.’

  ‘Are you kidding me?’

  ‘I can send you those approvals. I remember very well because I also noticed that the imports were not consistent with their core line of business.’

  ‘Send me the details. Irrespective, put this remittance on hold. We are not releasing the forex.’

  Swami had barely returned to his office when he got a call on his landline. He looked out of his cabin towards his secretary’s workstation. She had left for the day. Left with no option, he took the call.

  ‘Swami garu?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Saar, I am Naidu from Vaishnavi Metal Strips.’

  ‘Tell me, Mr Naidu,’ said Swami, leaning back in his chair. He was impressed with how quickly the call had come.

  ‘Saar had come to our office today.’

  ‘Yes, I was there to inspect the consignment.’

  ‘You should have told us, saar. We would have taken care of you.’

  ‘Aren’t you ashamed, Mr Naidu? You are trying to cheat the bank and the country. You are laundering money overseas.’

  ‘Saar, can I meet you?’ Naidu had summarily ignored Swami’s comment.

  ‘I will ask my branch manager to arrange a meeting with you. By the way, we are lodging a police complaint.’

  ‘Saar, please meet me for five minutes before you do anything. I’m sure we will satisfy you.’

  ‘Enough, Mr Naidu! We are not dishonest bankers whom you can manipulate at will.’

  ‘No, no, saar! That is not what I meant. I’m at your reception. If you give me five minutes, I will explain.’

  Swami looked at his watch. He did want to know the transaction history. Perhaps he could manage five minutes. He instructed the receptionist to seat Mr Naidu in the conference room. In another five minutes, he walked in.

  ‘Yes, Mr Naidu?’

  Naidu stood up. ‘I am very sorry that you had to take the trouble for me.’

  ‘It’s fine, Mr Naidu. It’s our job. Tell me what you wanted to meet me for.’

  ‘Saar, this money has to go today, or latest by tomorrow morning.’

  ‘So, you expect us to remit money against a fraudulent invoice? Your imports are not even worth 10,000 dollars and you want to remit close to a million dollars against a fake invoice?’ Swami was furious.

  ‘Saar, you don’t understand. If money not go, I will be in big trouble.’

  ‘That’s your problem.’

  ‘No, saar. It is your bank’s problem too.’

  ‘My bank’s problem?’

  ‘Yes, saar. I am telling you in strict confidence. This is the sixth instalment of an amount Vaishnavi needs to give to the central government, for allowing a group company to continue mining in Chhattisgarh. This remittance was advised by the finance minister. He said he would speak to the CEO of your bank to remit funds overseas. That is why I am doing this. This is the sixth and last instalment. Total amount 5 million dollars, including this one. You can check old records, saar. All this is being sent to an overseas company controlled by the finance minister. Benami, saar.’

  ‘What?’ Swami was shocked.

  ‘Yes, saar. Your CEO know about it. She only give approval. This is last instalment. Please let it go. No one know. If it stops, I will be in trouble and I expose your bank.’

  Swami didn’t know what to say. He went back to his room and called Mukund, asking for all the forex transactions that Malvika had approved. Naidu was right. Swami had known that Malvika was not the most straightforward of people. Now he wondered what Malvika’s cut had been in the entire deal.

  He walked back to the conference room. Naidu was talking on the phone.

  ‘Give us time till tomorrow,’ he requested Naidu. ‘And no, we are not reporting this to anyone yet.’

  Naidu left, promising to return the next day.

  That night, Swami met Aditya and Sundeep.

  ‘Don’t get into this at all, Swami. Just approve it after documenting the fact that the customer has been routing these transactions through NYIB in the past and that Malvika had approved five of them.’ Aditya advised.

  ‘I agree.’ Sundeep endorsed the suggestion.

  One thing was clear to them. Malvika’s dalliance with the finance minister was much more than personal.

  64

  Washington DC

  Adrian drove to the George Washington Critical Care Hospital where Nikki Tan was still under observation. She had not come out of the coma.

  Adrian sat at her bedside and looked at Nikki. She looked so calm, as if she’d wake up any minute and tell him everything.

  A few questions about her were bothering him though. He had never seen a mother who would help her daughter acquire drugs to keep her away from other problems.

  But the larger problem was the ATM heist. What was she doing at the venue with someone who was mixed up with the perps? Tony had visited the Internet cafe down the street from the Tans’ residence. The cafe had shut down, replaced by a Dunkin’ Donuts. They had tried to access old security systems an
d CCTV camera footage but everything had been destroyed when Dunkin’ Donuts took over.

  A knock on the door disturbed his deep thoughts.

  ‘Gloria! How are you?’ He didn’t realize that Gloria had walked in and was now standing at the door.

  ‘Oh, hello, Agent Scott!’

  ‘I was passing by. Thought I’d check on your mom,’ he explained, getting up to give her a warm hug.

  The two of them walked out of the room. He had a thousand questions on his mind. Unable to decide whether the time and place were appropriate, he decided to go with his gut. ‘Gloria, there was an Internet cafe down the road from your house, right?’ He showed her the map.

  She looked at it and said, ‘This is where Dunkin’ Donuts stands today, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Was it a popular place?’

  ‘Not sure about that. But Mom used to go there.’

  ‘To the Internet cafe?’

  ‘Yeah. But very rarely. Maybe once or twice. To talk to her friends. But only when she wanted privacy. Being a senator’s wife can mean putting up with fair bit of intrusion, Agent Scott.’

  ‘Who were these people?’

  ‘Some were people who helped her adopt me. Dad didn’t like her talking to them. He felt that being in touch with them would constantly remind her of my being adopted. Some people at the adoption home in London. The staff at the hospital where I was born. A couple of relatives of my biological parents. A few friends too.’

  ‘Have you ever met any of them?’

  ‘Some of them, yes. When I was visiting last time.’

  ‘Which was when?’

  ‘September. End-September. We were there for over a month. We went all over Europe. Just me and mom. It was so much fun . . .’

  She had tears in her eyes, as she recollected moments from her last vacation with her mother.

  Adrian’s interest was piqued. ‘Would you have their contact information?’

  ‘I might. Let me check.’ She dug into her bag and pulled out her iPad. She browsed and gave him a few details.

  ‘Thank you!’

  An excited Adrian turned around and left. Gloria and her mom had gone to London in end-September for a month. The last login from the Internet cafe by Altoids was in October. It couldn’t have been them. Once in his car, after a lot of thought, he called Tony.