Bridge of Doom

by George McCartney

  Back downstairs at the party, the two partners got fresh drinks from the bar and Jack said, 'by the way, Annie, I didn't know you were interested in modern art. That was very impressive, the way you were chatting away to him, as if you’re a collector yourself.'

  Smiling, Annie said, 'my knowledge of painting begins and ends with the Dulux colour chart. Old Russell Crowe told me all about the painting, in between making the big pitch for me to get my kit off and pose for him. I'm not sure if it was professional jealousy, but he thinks that the Humph painting is, and I quote, over-priced vulgar rubbish. Handy if you have a big damp patch to cover up, but otherwise totally lacking in artistic merit, was how he summed it up. So since we’re here at bullshit central, and I was under instruction to lie big, I thought I would slip in another bare-faced lie just to see if Guy bought it.'

  'And he did. That's interesting.'

  Glancing at his watch, Jack said, 'I'm feeling bushed, Annie, so I think I'll try and catch the next train back to Glasgow. Are you coming, or do you have other plans for the rest of the evening?'

  'I think if my new life coach, auntie Peg, was here advising me, she would probably tell me the night's still young and I should hang around for a bit longer, neck some more free champagne and see if there’s any action with my new best friend down in the basement. But, to be honest, these heels are absolutely killing me and I can't wait to get home and get them off.'

  ‘I feel exactly the same way about these trousers. I'm sure I felt something vital rip when I sat down in Guy's office.’ Taking out his phone, Jack said, 'I'll organise a taxi to the station and we can head back to civilisation.'

  As they were waiting for their taxi to arrive, Jack said, ‘it’s been an interesting evening one way and another. Quite a change from my normal Saturday night, having a few pints and a game of darts back in the Royal Bar. What do you think of our new client, Mr Brodie? First impressions please, Annie.'

  'Hard to say. I mean he's obviously a very smooth operator, I'll definitely give him that. He looks the part of a successful businessman, but he also has a surprisingly friendly, down to earth manner. Although I got the impression that could change in a heartbeat. I mean did you see how he immediately slapped Henry down after he told another one of his awful jokes.'

  'Yes, that was impressive and he went up a couple of notches in my estimation at that point. I think it was also significant that Henry kept his head down and hardly said a word afterwards. They may be old friends, Annie, but it's pretty obvious which one's the alpha dog in that particular relationship. And then, when I was asking him if he has many enemies, did you notice Henry suddenly went all twitchy and started looking over his shoulder, as if he was expecting someone to burst into the room swinging a baseball bat. So behind all of the compliments and flattery being directed our way, I think it's safe to say we're not being told the whole story about why they want us on board. That's not necessarily a deal breaker for me, Annie, but I think we definitely need to proceed with caution on this one. Hopefully there won't be any last minute surprises.'

  'Yeah, I'm still feeling a bit leery about the whole thing,’ replied Annie. ‘But at least it'll be a change from trying to catch shoplifters stuffing handbags down their knickers.'

  On their way out, Jack spoke to one of the waiters standing inside the front door, who was retrieving the coats of departing guests from a side room. 'Do me a favour, mate, will you, and give these keys to the knobhead who owns the white convertible Jag. Tell him I'm getting on a bit and I can't remember where I parked it. But it is locked and I did put the roof up just before the rain came on. I think.’

  Chapter 32

  Next day back in their office in Glasgow, Annie reflected on the events of the previous evening. 'I really enjoyed the party last night, but I haven’t changed my mind. I still don't trust Henry, or his posh boy boss. I might be completely wrong, but I've still got a funny feeling about this Edinburgh job … that we're being played somehow. You know how you said before that we weren't being told the whole story.'

  'Yeah, what about it?' said Jack.

  'I think you're right. So we should try and discreetly find out what's really going on at Murieston Properties.'

  'Yes, agreed, but how do we do that? I mean without arousing suspicion?'

  'Well we could start by seeing if we can hack into Henry's email account.'

  'You could do that?'

  'I can try. Obviously we know his email address because that's in the public domain, and for most email accounts the email address is also your ID, or username. So now all we need to do is to try and guess his password and we're in.'

  'Yeah, but it could be anything, Annie. It might be a complete jumble of upper case, lower case letters and random numbers or symbols. Where on earth do you start?'

  'Yes, you're right it could be, but most people don't do it like that, because they can't remember complicated passwords. They usually just choose slight variations on a single familiar word.'

  'I'm not so sure about that, Annie. I’ll bet you another fiver you can't guess my password.'

  Annie sucked her pen and stared intently at her partner for ten seconds, before announcing confidently, 'I’ve got it … hank.williams, right?'

  'Fucking hell, that was incredible.'

  'No it wasn't,’ said Annie with a smirk as she held out her hand to accept the proffered note. ‘Actually, because I know you well, it was kind of obvious. But do you see what I'm getting at? People tend to go for the easy option rather than some fancy password they'll never be able to remember. So from the little bit I know about Henry, I don't think his password will be anything too complicated either. Think about it, what's he obsessed about?'

  'I don't know … maybe his ex-wife, or telling rubbish jokes?'

  'How about Glasgow? Or Weegies?

  'Yeah, maybe so, Annie. You’re probably on the right lines there, but how does that help us?'

  'Let me think a bit more about this before we jump in,' said Annie, who then spent ten minutes on her MacBook researching email hacks, before announcing, 'okay, on second thoughts, we don't want to spook him. He's maybe way smarter than we think and he could have put enhanced security software in place. By the way, I’ve also just learned that accessing another person's emails without permission is illegal, apparently. So let's not take any chances here, because we don't want this thing coming back to bite us in the bum.' Picking up her phone she said, 'Let me try and get hold of Jamie at work, to see if there's a better way of doing this, because he's the real IT expert.'

  'Hi Jamie. It's me, Annie. I'm in the office and I've got Jack here with me, on speakerphone. How are you?'

  'I'm good, Annie. Nearly back to full fitness now and the swelling's almost gone from my nose. I'm still getting some twinges from my ribs though, when I cough or laugh, but otherwise I’m A-Okay.'

  'Good. If you've got time, Jamie, I need your help with something.'

  'If I can, sure. What's the problem?'

  'It's to do with work. I want to try and access someone's email without them knowing about it. What’s the best way to go about it?'

  'Technically it's pretty straightforward, Annie. There are several ways you can do it, but probably the simplest method is to send the person an email with some kind of attachment, that you know for sure they'll be tempted to open. The attachment is the key element here, Annie, because it contains hidden key-logger software and, once the email is opened, it immediately installs onto their computer. And from that point on, it captures all typed data, including passwords. So the next time the person logs on to their email account, and taps in their password, you're off and running. It works pretty much just like a tape recorder running away in the background on the computer. These key-loggers are actually much more widely used than most people imagine. In fact, I’m told that loads of employers use them, to keep an eye on what their staff are really up to, when they should be working.’

  'So, it's not paranoia after all, big brother really is
watching you. Very sneaky,' said Annie.

  'Yes, and very effective,' continued Jamie, 'because once a key-logger is installed, you can access the person’s email account and see everything they've been doing on the computer, whenever you want. But you have to be careful in case they have beefed-up security firewalls, which can flag up login attempts from unknown locations. Although these can be neutralised as well, so that's not a major problem.'

  Jack then butted in to the conversation, 'hi Jamie, it's Jack, I've got a question for you. I think I understand most of what you've just been saying. But surely if the person doesn't recognise either the sender of the email, or the subject matter, they'll just hit the delete button straight away, or bin it as spam.'

  'You're absolutely right, Jack, but that's where you and Annie come in. I'm assuming you probably know a fair bit already about this person. So if you focus on their interests or hobbies, you can probably come up with something that he, or she, would find irresistible.'

  Annie and Jack looked at each other but, initially, nothing came to mind.

  'Look guys, it’s no sweat,’ said Jamie. ‘Just kick it around until you have something and then get back to me when you're ready to rock n' roll, okay?'

  'No wait, I think I've got it,' said Jack, smiling broadly. 'Can you create an email address for rugbybabesontour and title the email as The Best Weegie joke ever?'

  'No problem,' said Jamie. 'So after you give me the email address you’re targeting, then I’ll need the wording for the message and the joke.'

  ‘Okay, make the message, 'Hey there, loser man. We've got a match coming up in Edinburgh next week. If you and your mate want another Jagerbomb challenge, get in touch.'

  'Okay I've got that, Jack. Now give me the joke you want to use for the key-logger attachment.'

  'Right, here goes … A Glasgow man is weaving his way unsteadily along Argyle Street just after closing time on a Friday night. He's well gassed, having blown all his wages somewhere between the bookie and the pub, as you do. He stops beside a broken down car, which has the bonnet up and clouds of steam billowing out of the engine. 'Whassup, Jimmy?' he asks the distraught owner, who is sitting on the kerb with his head in his hands. 'Piston broke,' the guy replies. 'Aye, same as me pal. Fuckin bummer, eh?' says the drunk with a shake of his head, before staggering on his way.

  'That's not much of a joke, if you don't mind me saying so,' said Jamie.

  'It's okay, don't worry about it,' replied Annie. 'The guy we're sending it to isn't much of a comedian.'

  'But that is absolute genius, boss', said Annie. 'Henry will think for sure that the email's come from one of those scary big rugby women you had the boozy session with last week.'

  'Well I remember he did seem to be getting pretty friendly with a couple of the girls in particular, and I'm sure he also passed out a bunch of his business cards to the rest of the team. So, if I know Henry, he'll think it's one of them who's reaching out and he's maybe got a chance of scrumming down with her. Yeah, I think I can almost guarantee he'll open the email attachment.'

  'So can you do that for me to-day, Jamie?' said Annie.

  'Yes guys, no probs. I'm still on my lunch break at the moment, so I'll do it right now and get back to you as soon as I've got something.'

  'Look, just before you go ahead, are you absolutely sure about this, Jamie? I don't want to get you into any trouble,' said Annie.

  'Look it's absolutely no sweat, especially after all you’ve both done for me in the last couple of weeks. I'll set it up at an internet café and we can both create new email accounts to communicate about the hack. Obviously you don’t want to use your regular office email address or any of your office computers. If I do it that way, then there's no direct electronic trail leading back to you. Assuming anybody ever bothered to look. Don't worry, Annie, it's totally cool.’

  'Okay then, you're a star, Jamie. Speak to you soon … bye.'

  'Yeah, thanks for that buddy,' added Jack as the call ended.

  Annie then turned to Jack and said, 'hopefully now we'll be able to find out what's really going on at Murieston Property.’

  Chapter 33

  Annie returned to the Royal Bar to grab a late lunch and catch-up on the latest gossip with her aunt Peggie. As she walked in, she could see her aunt was busy clearing glasses from the tables, after what had obviously been a busy lunchtime session.

  Annie said nothing and tip-toed silently up behind her aunt, before putting her hands over her eyes.

  Completely unfazed her aunt said, 'don't tell me, it's Richard Gere come to whisk me away from all of this drudgery, for a night of unbridled passion and champagne.'

  'Isn't he a bit old for you?' said Annie, giggling before she gave her aunt a big hug.

  'Are you kidding me, girl? Some of the guys I've seen recently on dating websites make Richard Gere look like bloody Peter Pan.'

  'So, I take it that you've not met the one yet?'

  'You could say that, Annie. But I'm not complaining because, believe me, putting on some slap and going out on dates once or twice a week is a helluva lot more fun than sitting at home, waiting for my Heating Allowance to arrive and watching the rubbish that's on the television most nights. Do you remember the advice I gave you the last time you were in here?'

  'Oh right, yes. Use it or lose it. Got it auntie.'

  'Exactly. I'm thinking of getting that tattooed on my upper thigh, just below my suspender belt, in case I ever forget.'

  'Good for you, I'm proud of you, auntie.'

  'So has Jack Davidson finally dragged his lazy arse back to work yet?'

  'Yes, he's been back in the office for almost a week and he's feeling a lot better, now the nightmares have finally stopped. So things are back to normal again and it's all good. We're just getting started on a new case through in Edinburgh and on Saturday night we were invited to a really swanky party at the client's house in the New Town. It was quite something. There were a lot of strange and interesting people there. I think you would have liked it.'

  'I'm not so sure about that, Annie. I've only ever been out with a couple of guys from Edinburgh and I'll tell you why. The first one, who said he was an accountant, invited me to dinner at an expensive Italian restaurant, somewhere just off George Street I think it was. He said it was his favourite place for a meal, so we had a lovely dinner and washed it down with two bottles of really good red wine. He seemed a bit quiet and reserved, but that's not necessarily a deal breaker, with me being the exact opposite, and I thought things were going really well. Anyway, after coffee he asked for the bill then balanced these tiny little half-moon specs on the end of his nose, before taking a calculator out of his pocket. Then he spent five minutes in complete silence, tapping away on the calculator checking and double-checking the bill, before announcing that because I had ordered a starter and an extra cup of coffee, my share of the bill was £46.75 plus a tip and service, of course.'

  'Oh dear, that must have been a bit of a passion killer,' said Annie.

  'Aye, tell me about it. I couldn't believe the cheek of the guy. I don't mind going Dutch, Annie, especially if it's with a hot guy who's a bit short of the readies and I know in advance about it. But this tight-arsed twat had made out that the whole evening was to be his big treat. But that wasn't the end of it, because I'm almost certain he tried to use an out of date Groupon voucher to pay for his share of the bill. So there I was totally pissed off, out of pocket for the train fare and more than half of the cost of the meal. So not a happy bunny, at all.'

  'I take it that Mr Scrooge didn't qualify for any … you know, afters.'

  'You're joking, of course, although he did actually have the nerve to ask me back to his place. I said, in your dreams, pal. Do you think that I fucking zip up the back? I'm not sure he knew exactly what that means, but he certainly got my drift.'

  'You've really cheered me up auntie,' said Annie, as she wiped away tears of laughter. 'And what about the other Edinburgh guy?'

  'Oh
he looked very promising at first sight. But after my experience with the tight-arsed accountant, I insisted that this one come through to Glasgow for our date, so at least I'd save on the train fare if it was a complete waste of time. I'd say he was maybe early forties, around six-foot tall, fit looking and immaculately dressed, with one of these trendy haircuts, clean fingernails and very polite with it.

  'Do you think he maybe has a younger brother?' asked Annie, hopefully.

  'I've no idea, but it all started okay. He was right on time and he brought me a cute little posy of flowers, which was a nice touch. Then I couldn't believe my luck when he said that some of the best dates he'd ever had were with older women, because they're such good listeners.'

  Annie had a fit of the giggles before explaining, 'Oh, I'm sorry, auntie. It's just that, if Jack was here, this would be his cue to trot out the old saying about, 'the old dames who don't yell, don't swell and they're always grateful as hell.'

  'Davidson's a cheeky bastard, but there is a grain of truth in that. Although don't dare tell him I said that. Anyway getting back to Mr Perfect, he reminded me of another old saying, that if something looks too good to be true, it probably is.'

  'Oh right, so what was the problem with him?'

  'Well we went into a nice bar, just round the corner from Queen Street station, and he got a round of drinks in. Then we settled into a cosy corner booth, but after that it was downhill all the way, because all he talked about for an hour solid was his ex-wife. I couldn't get a word in edgewise, so eventually I said I was going to the toilet and got up and left. But on the way out I told the barman that my date insisted on buying everyone in the pub a drink. That's quite a common thing by the way, Annie. Losers who haven't been able to move on after a break-up, who keep whining away about their ex to anyone stupid enough to listen. Totally pathetic.'

  'So I take it that's put you off dating anyone else from Edinburgh?'