The Talion Code

by Catriona King

  Ash glanced at his screen and then at the detectives, struggling to keep up. Davy explained before Liam pressured his friend even more.

  “The man in the car beside Katy’s is the same man who was at the Odyssey.”

  Andy interrupted. “Can I see the images? Just to be sure.”

  Liam waved him towards Craig’s office then returned to glaring at the analysts as Davy carried on.

  “So the murder and the hack cases are linked.”

  Ash began tapping furiously at his keyboard, his neck growing redder as Liam stared. A shout emerged from Craig’s office.

  “It’s definitely the same guy.”

  They knew that anyway but it was always nice to have an expert in the game. As Liam stared at the top of Ash’s head his earlier niggle grew and he crossed to Davy’s desk, beckoning him to follow.

  “PNC.”

  “It’s running the image already. I can’t make it go any faster.”

  “Try. I’ve seen this creep before and I want to know where-” He was interrupted by a whoop from Ash.

  “Got it!” Annette leaned in to see the same five digit strand on his screen. “The five digit code was on Katy’s car computer. It was hacked.”

  “What would it have made the car do?”

  He tapped the keyboard for a moment before answering. “It looks like the algorithm controlled the car’s brakes and speed, so if the hack manipulated that pathway-”

  “It could have made the car accelerate and the brakes would have been knocked out. She didn’t have a hope of stopping!”

  Liam cut in before sympathy bypassed everyone’s logic. “Would it have left a trace?”

  Ash shook his head. “Only if you looked at the car’s computer like we did. There would be nothing for normal forensics to see.”

  “Could the hack have been loaded onto her car from outside?”

  Davy answered. “Easily. He could have accessed the car’s computer via Bluetooth, especially if he was close.”

  Annette gasped. “Bastard! He must have done it on his phone when he was parked beside her at the lights. That’s why he was smiling.”

  Liam’s voice was heavy. “Clever bastard. But could we ever prove it, even if we got access to his phone?”

  Davy made a face that said it would be hard. Just then his PC pinged. It wasn’t good news.

  “Your guy’s not on the PNC, Liam. S…Sorry.”

  Liam thumped the nearest desk. “Bollocks! If he’s not a crim then where the hell do I know him from?”

  Annette waved him to a chair. “He could be anyone you’ve met, Liam. We need to focus on what we’ve got. OK, we know that whoever set up Richard Jamison definitely used the hack on Katy’s car, so logically they caused the other incidents that have been happening for months.”

  Liam wasn’t listening. He was back at Ash’s desk. “Tell me about the algorithm. Where was it between ninety-two and when Ramsays bought it?”

  “I’m still searching. All we know is that Hamnet, Jamison and Dunn discovered it in ninety-two.”

  The detective thumped the desk again. “Damn it, Ash. Think!” He turned back to Davy. “You two are the big brains. Did those three sell the algorithm rights immediately to someone or did they develop it more themselves? And what happened to make Paul Hamnet kill himself? He was about to become a rich man.”

  A voice they all recognised came from across the floor. “Maybe the others cut him out of the sale.”

  They turned to see Craig, looking dishevelled despite a change of clothes, and as pale as a man with a year round tan could possibly look. Annette spoke first.

  “You don’t need to be here, sir.”

  He dismissed her concern firmly. “This is exactly where I need to be. I’m no use at the hospital and we need to find out why Katy’s car went off the road.”

  Liam walked towards him and they met at Nicky’s desk. When he spoke his voice was softer than it had been all day. “We think we know already, boss.” He steered Craig into his office and two minutes later they heard a shout that sent shivers down their spines. It was followed by a wild-eyed Craig racing out to Ash’s desk.

  “Tell me this isn’t true!”

  Ash’s reply was to turn his screen around to face him and they watched as Craig scanned it frantically and then leaned heavily on the desk, his voice breaking as he spoke.

  “You mean…this bastard killed Guthrie to get at Jamison…and almost killed Katy to get at…”

  He shook his head so hard and for so long that Annette thought he would do himself damage, then he was across the floor and punching the keys of the lift with Liam in hot pursuit. Annette knew where they were going and exactly what Craig would do next. They had to find their killer or Richard Jamison would be the next thing that got punched.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Dundrod Road. Crumlin. 3 p.m.

  Reggie Boyd stared down at the small blue hatchback. The car was ubiquitous, exactly what somebody hiding in plain sight would choose. The driver hadn’t even attempted to burn it out, just dumped it by the roadside, confident that he could saunter off down the country road and disappear without being caught on any screen. It was an argument for universal surveillance, although even as he thought he balked at the invasion of privacy that it would pose.

  He called in the C.S.I.s without much hope of them finding anything that would yield a name; but not all evidence led to a capture, far more helped to seal that capture once it came to court. As he waited for forensics to arrive the veteran sergeant phoned Annette, confirming her suspicions and getting brought up to date on the latest news. He listened patiently, not only to her words but to the emotion in between. When she’d finished he posed a question forgotten by everyone else.

  “Has anyone tried to inject themselves into the Guthrie investigation?”

  Annette’s jaw dropped. She could have kicked herself. It was detection 101. Perps, especially weird perps, and they definitely had one of those, often got a kick from keeping an eye on an investigation from nearby. They got pleasure from watching the cops chase their tails and thinking how much smarter they were.

  “Reggie, you’re a genius!”

  His cheeks grew hot. “Aye well, keep it quiet will you. I don’t want the chief putting me up for promotion boards.” He shuddered at the thought of exams then took a sip from his ever present flask before asking again. “Well, have they then?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll need to ask if anyone’s noticed.”

  With that she hung up, leaving him to stare across the fields into the distance, where the water of Lough Neagh was glistening in the low winter sun. Annette meanwhile had other things to stare at.

  “Davy. I need the names of everyone involved in the Guthrie investigation and all the local incidents that Ash found the algorithm in. Witnesses, police, relatives, everyone.”

  “That’ll take me-”

  “You have thirty minutes then I need the list.”

  She had it in twenty and decamped to the quiet of her cubicle with a marker, striking out names as they were eliminated, either because she knew them or because they didn’t fit what she was looking for. What was she looking for? She hardly knew herself. It wasn’t an age or sex or occupation of a person, it was just someone who didn’t fit. She handed the list back to Davy with a smile.

  “I need photos of all these.”

  They would be easier to produce than the list, but take longer. He could only work as quickly as the passport and driving licence computer systems would allow. As he began his task Annette turned to Ash.

  “What’s happening with the copyright?”

  The analyst screwed up his face. “Well… as far as I can see, in nineteen-ninety-two Hamnet, Jamison and someone called Dunn were celebrated for discovering a new algorithm and went on to look at its possible applications to industry. They were still researching in ninety-three on a grant from Stormont, then suddenly, in the middle of the year, the research stopped and Dunn and Jamison left
academia. Their enrolment at Queen’s ended in the June ninety-three, but Paul Hamnet re-enrolled for a further year.”

  “OK, so Hamnet wanted to be an academic and the others didn’t. So what?”

  “Using what to pay his fees? The Stormont grant had ended and as far as I can see he was heavily in debt.”

  “But surely the algorithm was worth something?”

  Ash nodded vigorously. “Millions potentially. It’s still being used now. But Hamnet was definitely broke. He died without leaving a penny to his family.”

  “Who were?”

  “His wife Susan, and a son, Warner, who was ten years old at the time.”

  Annette went cold. “What happened to them? Surely they must have been entitled to one third of any royalties the algorithm brought in?”

  The analyst tapped his keyboard several times and then shook his purple head. “It doesn’t look like they got anything. Susan Hamnet never remarried and she died last year in council accommodation.” He beckoned her to look at his screen. “In this house.” It showed a photograph of the two-up two-down house of someone struggling to pay their bills, not the widow of a scientific genius.

  Things were starting to become clear.

  “What about the son?”

  “I’m searching for him now. I’ll call you as soon as I have anything.”

  Annette turned back to Davy, a hopeful look on her face, but the photographs he’d found only eliminated a few of the names.

  “I’ve another s…six to get, but they might not come through-”

  “Nope. I don’t want to hear it.” She turned to walk off the floor. “I’m going to High Street. Call me when you have them all.”

  “Annette, wait. I’ve found something for the boss.”

  He handed her a note that made her smile as she read it in the lift.

  ****

  When Annette arrived at High Street she was shocked by the scene in reception. A bloody nosed Liam was pinning Craig against the door that led to the cells, while Jack was trying to talk them both down.

  “You can’t go through there, sir! Jamison’s alone. We have to wait for his brief.”

  Craig wrenched himself free of Liam’s arm lock and kicked him hard between the legs, making the red-nosed giant hit the deck. Then he reached over the desk and ripped Jack’s key chain from its hook, racing through the connecting door. The desk sergeant ran after him, ignoring Liam’s noisy groans. Annette’s normal sympathy was in short supply as well so she stepped over the recumbent detective and joined in the pursuit.

  They caught up with Craig just as he turned the key in Jamison’s cell door, too late to stop him slamming it behind him, leaving the two men locked inside. Jack pulled down the food hatch and leaned in, trying to stay calm.

  “You can’t be in there, sir.”

  Craig kept his back to them and spoke in the coldest voice that Annette had ever heard.

  “I’m asking Mr Jamison a few questions.”

  Annette motioned Jack to shift and leaned down to take his place. “Sir, let me come in. That way you’ll have a witness to whatever he says.”

  “You can witness from there.” As he said it Craig moved slowly towards the businessman, who was cowering on his bunk against the wall. Before Annette could speak again Craig pulled something from his pocket. Her heart sank when she saw its metallic sheen.

  “Please give me your gun, sir. Please, we can sort this out.” In a desperate try she added. “Katy wouldn’t want this. You know that.”

  It made Craig swing round for long enough that she could see what was in his hand. As she heaved a sigh of relief he yelled back. “Don’t talk about Katy. This bastard’s the reason she’s in ICU.”

  Jamison’s bewildered gaze met her relieved one. Craig hadn’t pulled his weapon as she’d feared; instead he was holding a Dictaphone. When she heard it click on she straightened up, continuing her viewing through the higher peephole.

  “Tell me about the algorithm, Jamison.”

  Richard Jamison found whatever spine he had and straightened up. “I want my lawyer.”

  Craig repeated himself, until the message that he didn’t give a damn what Jamison finally wanted hit home. The businessman feigned ignorance.

  “What algorithm?”

  “Nineteen-ninety-two. You, Paul Hamnet and Neil Dunn were researchers. You discovered an algorithm now owned by Ramsays Limited.”

  The magnate chuckled. “So that’s who has it now. I wondered where it had gone.”

  Annette winced at his laughter and waited for Craig to explode, just as Liam approached, bandy legged and doing some major wincing of his own. As Craig stepped forward, Jamison’s face paled and he gabbled furiously.

  “It was just a basic operating system algorithm.”

  “Not so basic if Ramsays paid twenty million for it.”

  Jamison backtracked hastily. “OK, so it was one of the first to be found, but it’s basic now so I don’t know why they paid that much.”

  “So it was worth even more in the nineties.”

  Jamison glanced at him nervously. “Possibly…” Another step forward and his next words were a shout. “YES. OK. IT WAS WORTH A LOT!”

  Liam motioned Jack to one side and bent down to take a look through the hatch. Craig’s jaw was set so hard it looked like it would crack. His next words were spat out.

  “What happened? Did Hamnet want to do more research on it and you two wanted to cash in? Was that it?”

  Jamison sneered, blithely unaware that he was dicing with death. Locked in a cell with a man whose lover he had indirectly almost killed; a man with a gun in his pocket and a rage that wouldn’t take much more stoking before he would blow. Annette shut her eyes, not wanting to see what came next, but Craig summoned his last shred of self-control and waited for Jamison’s reply.

  “OK, you’re right. But so what? It’s a democracy and the two of us wanted to sell. Hamnet was just outvoted.”

  “Who did you sell the algorithm to?”

  “An American conglomerate. They made us an offer that was too good to refuse.”

  Craig glanced back at the door, meeting Liam’s eyes and then Annette’s. There was no recognition in either glance, just the blank look of a man who was numb, making it impossible to predict what he would do next. He turned back to Jamison, his next words a statement not a question.

  “You cut Hamnet out of the deal.”

  Jamison hadn’t the sense to look guilty. “We offered him his share but he said we should donate the equation to science. Said we were taking dirty money. Sanctimonious dick. We had no choice but to sign; it was too much moolah to ignore.” The caveat he added sounded like he wanted a round of applause. “I paid his Uni fees for another year. I didn’t have to do that.”

  Liam couldn’t keep quiet. “Big hearted Arthur. You’re a shark, Jamison.”

  Jamison shrugged, making Liam pray for Craig to ram the Dictaphone down his throat.

  “Better a shark than plankton. Hamnet was always destined to be plankton. His overinflated conscience saw to that.”

  He relaxed back against the wall, suddenly sensing that Craig wouldn’t harm him. He could sniff out moral men like a wolf sniffs blood and he recognised Craig as one. But the detective hadn’t finished.

  “Exactly when did Hamnet find out the conglomerate was a weapons manufacturer?”

  Liam straightened up, gawping at Annette. As far as he knew they hadn’t discovered who’d bought the algorithm initially, so how did Craig know that? Annette shrugged, surprised but not for the first time by Craig’s intuitive leaps. Craig must have had a hunch and Jamison’s comment about dirty money had confirmed it.

  Jamison shrugged as well, but indifferently. “If you already knew then why did you ask who we sold to?”

  Craig’s voice dropped to a growl. “Answer the bloody question.”

  Jamison half-smiled. He never ceased to be amazed how people got worked up about the arms trade. A weapon was only as bad as the p
erson who pulled the trigger; that was his view. Was it his job to be everyone’s conscience?

  “We told him once we’d signed the paperwork. In November ninety-three.”

  And a few weeks later Paul Hamnet had committed suicide, unable to live with the future deaths his brilliant discovery would inflict. Craig had a fleeting thought that he had died just before Christmas, the same time of year as now. Was the timing a coincidence? He doubted it somehow.

  He stared coldly at Jamison for a full minute, thinking about Katy’s injuries and the loaded Glock nestling at his waist, then, much to the others’ relief, he turned on his heel and yanked open the heavy door. Annette took the opportunity to tell him what Davy had found.

  “We can definitely charge him, sir. Davy’s located offshore accounts for both him and Guthrie and deposits that trace back to a crooked currency swop last Friday.”

  Craig nodded and strode past the watching officers, saying, in a quiet voice.

  “Charge him with fraud.”

  Richard Jamison was still yelling as the Audi roared away.

  “He’s finished, you all are. I asked for a lawyer. When Lewiston hears about this you’ll be out on your ass.”

  Liam’s voice was the next one they heard. “For what? All he did was let you talk. Anyway, I didn’t hear you ask for a lawyer.” He turned to the others. “Did you two?”

  He was answered by two shaking heads.

  Jamison wasn’t having it. “There’ll be CCTV.” He pointed towards the camera in one corner of the cell.

  Liam turned to look at it and then turned back with a bemused smile on his face. “You mean that? It hasn’t been working all day.”

  Just to make sure he yanked it hard off the wall then decamped to reception and pressed erase on the central camera bank, wiping every tape in the station for the previous hour. As he was doing that Annette was calming Jamison. Eventually she locked the cell door behind her and handed a stunned Jack the keys, then they walked together to the staff room where Liam already had the kettle on. He handed out the drinks and leaned back against the sink before starting.