Catwalk Criminal

by Sarah Sky

  Christine ignored her as she fiddled with the boat’s controls.

  “You recorded that message for MI6 using a voice disguiser so you’d sound like a man, didn’t you? All that stuff about wanting to bring about total freedom of information on the internet was rubbish. You don’t believe it for a minute. You needed a distraction, which is why you incited all those hackers to cause mayhem. It all came down to this, didn’t it? Releasing Lee Caplin and killing the president of the United States who’d refused to give clemency to a dangerous cybercriminal.”

  “He is not a danger to anyone,” Christine snapped. “He’s just a teenage boy. A sweet but misguided boy who didn’t think through what he was doing.” Her voice wavered as she tried the key again and again. “I had to do something. Lee didn’t deserve to be jailed.”

  “What do you mean?” Jessica’s fingers trembled as she felt in her pocket. Blast. Her key ring was in her handbag. For once, she had no gadgets on her. She’d changed out of her taser trainers into ballet pumps when she arrived at the venue, and removed her watch. Personal jewellery had been banned for today’s show.

  Christine’s fingers slipped from the controls as she turned around.

  Yes! Lee was her weak spot. Jessica had to continue to distract her. She stared at the device in Christine’s left hand and back to her necklace again.

  “I think I’ve seen that pendant before. It’s quite unusual. It was in a photo. Lee Caplin’s mum was wearing it.”

  Christine took a deep breath. “Louise Caplin was my half-sister.”

  So that was the connection! “You were doing all this for your family?”

  Christine’s grip on the electrical device loosened as tears filled her eyes. “I had to do whatever it took to free Lee, even if it meant setting up Ossa and hurting people who got in the way. I owed Louise that much.”

  “Why? I bet she’d never have wanted you to hurt Henry Murray, another teenage boy, even younger than Lee.”

  Christine brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. Jessica’s eyes remained glued on the gadget. She couldn’t defend herself properly in this position. She needed to get back on her feet, but her legs were too shaky to move.

  “Don’t you see?” Christine said fiercely. “I was responsible for everything that happened.”

  “That can’t be right,” Jessica said gently. “It’s not your fault that Lee got himself arrested for serious computer crimes and Louise died.”

  “But it was,” Christine sobbed.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Four years ago my husband, Harry, was dying of cancer. He worked in IT for the civil service, earning a pittance. He was good at what he did in the office, but he was brilliant at something else out of hours.”

  That could only mean one thing. “As in hacking?”

  “It began as a hobby, but he’d found a way to send out phishing emails and obtain personal passwords. I was shocked when I first found out, but then he became too ill to return to his IT job and was fired. My dressmaking wasn’t paying enough to cover the mortgage. Harry trained me up and hacking became our main source of income. It paid for his cutting-edge private cancer treatment in the States. When he died months later…” Her voice broke. “When Harry passed away, I wasn’t going to carry on, but then Louise’s husband had a heart attack and died. I was financially supporting her and Lee through hacking as well as carrying on with my dressmaking. It was regular hours and allowed me to spend more time with Lee after school. He was massively into computers, but Louise wouldn’t let him have his own. Lee used to come over to my house to go online.”

  Jessica caught her breath. “You taught Lee how to hack, didn’t you? The family business continued after your husband died.”

  Christine nodded. “Lee wanted to learn and was good at it. Eventually, I confessed how I was making so much money. He wanted to help. Together, we made a good team – not that we ever told his mum. Louise would never have approved. Before long, we were making crazy amounts of cash.”

  “That’s when you started money laundering?”

  “I couldn’t exactly pay hundreds of thousands of pounds each month into my current account or Louise’s. The bank would have reported me to the authorities. I had to find a way to recycle the cash. Investing in a fashion business seemed like a logical step. I could continue dressmaking and get a return on my investment as a silent backer.”

  “Why Ossa?”

  “I worked with him in his final year at college and genuinely liked and respected him. That wasn’t a pretence. He’s a true fashion genius, but I realized he’d do absolutely anything to get to the top. He was also totally useless with money, preferring to focus on his designs rather than the nuts and bolts of how he’d actually get a business off the ground. I guessed he’d take millions unquestioningly if it meant he became a superstar. I was right. It all worked out very well.”

  “Except Lee got caught.”

  “He didn’t stick to my rules and became careless. He bought his own computer to use at home. He stopped targeting people for money and performed ever more risky hacks to show off to his cyberfriends. He hacked into the Pentagon and downloaded files about new weapons and spy technology: superconductive thread that could be sewn into soldiers’ uniforms to allow them to download information on the battlefield without the need for devices; high-tech electrical stun guns and grapnels that were far superior to anything ever created before.

  “He also deleted files on other warfare techniques he found abhorrent and hacked into the missile system to show how easy it was to manipulate, how close countries could come to war by the push of a button. He never had any intention of firing those missiles. He was just making a point. A really silly, life-changing one.”

  Jessica managed to ease herself into a sitting position. “Which led to his arrest? The authorities had evidence of those hacks, but not the ones where you scammed people and targeted their bank accounts. Those were performed on your computer, which meant you could let Lee take the fall.”

  “I didn’t want to but I had no choice. Don’t you see? I was far more useful on the outside than locked up. I recruited an army of hackers that I knew could help me wreak havoc when the time was right. Plus I thought, because of Lee’s age, that the president would take pity on him and intervene, especially if they looked into his background and saw that he was strongly anti-war. He’d never have started World War 3. Instead, the president did nothing and the Americans built a case around him being a dangerous cybercriminal. His extradition killed Louise. The president killed Louise.”

  “You could have come forward and confessed to your involvement. Lee would have got a lighter sentence if you’d explained what you’d done and provided a character testimony.”

  “But I’d have been behind bars. I remembered some of the documents Lee had downloaded and realized there was another way. If the military could use superconductive thread in uniforms, why couldn’t I stitch it into couture clothing? I had a list of military suppliers I could secretly buy it from. I experimented using Ossa’s US clients, and it worked. It helped fund the legal costs to fight Lee’s extradition. When that failed, I knew I could use the same method to get him out of prison – using superconductive thread stitched into clothing to hack into the jail’s security system. I just had to pick a journalist at random who’d be thrilled about receiving an expensive freebie and then entice them to the prison with the offer of an interview. It worked.”

  “You failed. Lee’s been recaptured and he’s probably going to serve an even longer jail term, thanks to you. Your assassination attempt on the president didn’t work either. Give yourself up, Christine, and help free Lee another way, by coming clean about your involvement. You could help reduce his sentence if you take the blame. He shouldn’t have to do this alone, not when he’s lost his mum.”

  “Why would I volunteer to be jailed when I can do
this my way? I have the technology. I can break Lee out again and we can start a new life together, far away from the US and here.” Christine tried the engine again. This time it started.

  Jessica felt a scorching pain in her chest and fell on to her back. Christine knelt over her, waving the gadget.

  “You should never have followed Zak. This device was designed by the US government to fire electrical pulses. It can take out the glass in any window from a range of a hundred metres. When it’s ramped up to full power, as it is now, it can also stop hearts. I’d estimate you have about thirty seconds left before the blood stops pumping around your body.”

  Waves of excruciating pain washed over Jessica. It felt as though someone was sitting on her chest, crushing the air out of her lungs. Christine stared down, smiling. Then a look of confusion flickered over her face. The dressmaker’s mouth opened into a scream and she fell sideways as blackness flooded behind Jessica’s eyelids.

  A sharp pain stabbed Jessica’s forehead. She tried to open her eyes but a flashing light made her swiftly shut them again.

  “Jessica? Jessica Cole? Can you hear me?”

  Her tongue felt too heavy to reply.

  “She’s with us again.”

  She opened her eyes. This time they managed to stay open longer. Faces stared down at her. She didn’t recognize any of them. Then it went dark again.

  She realized she must have blacked out again because when she woke up for the second time, she was lying in a bed. The stiff sheets scratched her bare arms and legs. A bright light seared through her eyelids and she could smell disinfectant. She opened her eyes slowly.

  “She’s coming round. You need to give her some space,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Move back a minute while I make her more comfortable.”

  A woman leant over and plumped her pillow. She squinted and the woman came into focus. She had red hair and a blue uniform.

  “There, that’s better, isn’t it?”

  “I think so,” she said groggily.

  She looked about the hospital ward. The last thing she remembered was Christine screaming. Had she fallen? What had happened?

  A tall, raven-haired figure stepped out from behind the curtain.

  “Bree!”

  The model hovered by her bedside. “You’re going to be OK. I called for an ambulance.”

  “You did? Z-Zak.” She stumbled over the word. “What about…? I mean, he’s…?”

  “Zak suffered a deep head wound and is still unconscious, but the doctors say he’ll pull through. You were in a far worse state. Your heart stopped. The paramedics had to bring you back twice in the ambulance. If they hadn’t arrived when they did, you probably wouldn’t have made it.”

  Jessica tried to think through the pea-soup fog in her head. She’d almost died and Bree had saved her life. Probably Zak’s too. Why would she do that if she were a double agent? It didn’t make sense.

  “The secret service agents were looking for Zak and Christine,” Bree continued. “I figured they must have gone to the river; it was the only logical getaway. I saw Christine attack you. I knocked her out with a stun dart in my watch and dragged you off the boat.”

  “You did all that?” Jessica breathed. “For me?”

  “Astonishing, I know, that someone who routinely freezes on assignments didn’t screw up this time. I helped apprehend Christine and saved the lives of two government agents.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Bree shrugged. “I know you judge me.”

  “You judge me,” she whispered back. “You think I only got into Westwood because of my godfather; that I haven’t earned my place.”

  “I did think that at first. It all seemed to come so easy to you.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Let me finish. I was wrong about you, I admit that. I’ve seen you in action and can understand why you’re here, which has nothing at all to do with Nathan. You’re a natural at this, something else that got under my skin.”

  “I don’t get it. I irritate you now because I’ve proved I can actually do the job?”

  Bree took a deep breath. “I’m not explaining this well. You were right backstage. I have been hiding a secret and I don’t want to any more.”

  “Go on.” She eased herself up the bed. Was Bree about to confess to betraying MI6 and attacking her at the Shard?

  “I’m not cut out for Westwood. I know it. I hated the fact that you knew it too. I’ve pretended it’s OK for a while, but it isn’t. I loathe the lies and deception, and the truth is that I’m not very good at what I do. I panic in the field and people end up getting hurt – you, Natalia. You doubted me and you had reason to. I didn’t betray you the way you seem to think I did. But I know I let you down. I’m sorry for how horrible I’ve been to you. I’m sorry for everything.”

  Jessica stared at her, stunned. Of all the things she thought Bree would say, she hadn’t expected this.

  “You see, I’ve started seeing someone,” Bree continued. “A normal person who doesn’t have to tell lies every single day of his life. It’s hard to believe there are people like that when you do a job like this, but it’s true. His name is Chris and he works in a bookshop and he has absolutely no idea what I do. I think he’s the one and I never want him to find out about Westwood.”

  Jessica’s mouth fell open. “That’s why you didn’t get him vetted?”

  Bree bit her bottom lip.

  “Zak told me. Rodarte ran checks on you. There was no record of vetting under his name at Westwood, yet you’re looking at flats together.”

  “I didn’t see the point in getting him checked out when I never had any intention of telling him about my work. Meeting him has helped make up my mind. I can’t live this double life.”

  “It’s tough for everyone,” Jessica murmured, thinking of Jamie. What wouldn’t she give to see him now?

  “I know that, but some people, like you, can cope better with that secret life than me.”

  Really? Look how she’d screwed things up with her ex.

  “I wanted you to be the first to hear that I’m quitting Westwood. I’m handing my notice in to Nathan today.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. You’re Westwood through and through. I’m not. I never have been. I had doubts right from the start.”

  Jessica shook her head. “I’m not Westwood either. I’m still suspended and will probably stay that way thanks to Agent Hatfield.”

  “Westwood will have to reinstate you after today. You saved the life of the president of the United States. He’s going to pull through, thanks to you. You’ll probably even get a medal or something.”

  “I doubt it.” If she had a choice, she’d much prefer to get back with Jamie and have her suspension lifted at school.

  “We’ll see.” Bree stared at Jessica. “Despite everything, it’s been kind of fun working with you.” She turned to walk away.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Bree stopped, her hand resting on the curtain. “Don’t be. Good luck with everything. I mean it.”

  “You too. And thank you for saving my life.”

  Bree winked. “It was the least I could do.”

  Jessica sank back into her pillow. She believed Bree; she wasn’t a double agent, just someone who wasn’t cut out to be a spy. She probably shouldn’t have been recruited in the first place. But if Bree hadn’t attacked her and stolen the USB device that night at the Shard, who had?

  The doctor had discharged Jessica; she hadn’t suffered any long-term effects. But that hadn’t stopped Mattie from launching a campaign to drive her slowly mad by moving into their spare bedroom at home and treating Jessica like an invalid again. She’d been back from hospital for two days and even though she was still getting splitting headache
s, she was seriously thinking about returning to school so she could escape from Mattie. Her head teacher had cleared her of any wrongdoing and lifted her suspension, as had Westwood.

  Maybe she should beg Nathan to give her a foreign assignment? Saving the president’s life had also protected Westwood, silencing Agent Hatfield’s whispering campaign. She’d been quietly reassigned to another department and Jessica was the golden girl of the division. She reckoned she could ask for almost anything and she’d get it. Things were good; Christine had confessed to everything, including inciting Lee to commit his crimes. He was being released from prison in the US and allowed to return to the UK, to serve out a substantially reduced sentence on probation. Henry Murray had escaped prosecution in return for his evidence against Christine. But the dressmaker faced a lengthy jail sentence, as did Ossa Cosway, for participating in money laundering.

  “I’ve got that,” Jessica called as the doorbell rang. She slowly climbed down the stairs. With any luck it’d be her guardian angel, Becky, arriving, armed with a plan to drag her off to Café Panorama for a hot chocolate and blueberry muffin.

  She flung open the door. “Zak!”

  He broke into a grin. “Hello. Can I come in?”

  “Of course.” They hadn’t caught up properly; he’d been discharged from hospital before her. She nodded at the bandage on his forehead. “I see you’re rocking the ‘injured member of a boy band’ look.”

  “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself. Or aren’t I allowed to say that?”

  She smiled. “You’ve never asked my permission to say whatever you like, so why change now?”

  “Touché.”

  “Hi, Zak.” Mattie peered over the banister. “It’s lovely to see you again. Is Jessica going to ask you if you want a coffee or should I come down and make it?”

  Jessica scowled up at Mattie, willing her to vanish. She had an uncanny ability of appearing at the most awkward times.