you need to do it properly.’
Erin snorted. ‘Like Mission Impossible? Burgle Warwick’s office at midnight? That kind of thing. Seriously?’
‘ I didn’t say it was easy.’
‘Our office is thick in security measures. Everything is in silos and covered in passwords and need-to-know measures.’
Ted had been thinking about this all day and weighing up the odds.
‘ Erin, there’s a guy I know. He’s got special talents around computers. He makes them talk, sing – hell, sit up and beg. He’s weird and operates on a very fine line between legal and deserving of twenty years in the pen. I don’t know if he’s still around, nor on which side of the bars, but it’s worth a call.’
‘ A hacker? Christ. None of the Wikileaks crew, I trust?’
He smiled and shook his head.
‘ No loose cannons here. I’ll give him a call and then you go meet him and see what you can come up with. That is, if he’ll take a call from me.’ Ted looked guiltily at her. ‘After our last outing, once the excitement died down, I kind of let things drift. And before you know it ten years goes by. What do you think?’
A frown was gathering across her eyes. She l ooked down at her barely touched fish and then straightened her shoulders.
‘What would I have to do?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe slip him a password or something.’
‘How could I trust him not to milk us?’
‘Meet him and decide.’
‘As an officer of the bank I could get twenty years.’
‘ You have to decide how much this matters to you.’
He said nothing, just waited. She nodded her head a couple of times as though she was agreeing with something inside herself.
‘What skin are you putting into this game, Mr Saddler?’
He sighed. ‘I’ll see if I can find my passport and go check out People’s Bank on their home turf. God help me. I’ll also put out feelers to see who knows what in the market. GA can’t do it all without bumping into other folks.’ He paused and held her eyes.
Her voice took on her customary confidence and certainty. The thinking was done, the decision taken. Next came execution. That’s how she operated.
‘It’s the least you should do. OK, Ted, I’ll talk to your hacker friend. No promises. But you and I shouldn’t meet anymore. I’ll have him set up untraceable email addresses for you and me. Private cell phones. I’ll text you a number. Anything he finds, I’ll have him send directly to you.’
Ted agreed, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than he felt. Despite her pressure tactics, he wouldn’t have minded a return match at Giovanni’s Room. Especially if he could guarantee approbation from her questioning eyes. It had been a while since he cared what a woman thought of him.
TEN
A s usual, in the comparative cool of early morning, the women drifted down the twisting central street and gathered round the two water pumps and the wooden trough. They stepped daintily over the nuggets of goat dung. The Dalit women hadn’t swept the area yet. The five spreading neem trees ringed three sides of the small central square and formed a bank of shade for much of the day. The trees were laden with fat seeds, soon to be harvested.
The neems had stood for as long as anyone could remember. Some said they were the survivors of a forest that used to fill the valley. Younger versions of this great oak-like tree had been nurtured all over the village. Even now, in the hottest time of the year, with water so scarce that they had to crank the hand pumps for almost a minute to get the first splash of water, the trees held their leaves. They were a talisman for the survival of the village. Though the river had been taken away, so long as the neems still sto od, the village would continue.
It was a full turn-out – maybe forty in all - and most got there early to grab favoured spots between the roots of the trees. Even a few of the Dalits had now shown up, but were standing well to the back of the main group so as not
Erin snorted. ‘Like Mission Impossible? Burgle Warwick’s office at midnight? That kind of thing. Seriously?’
‘ I didn’t say it was easy.’
‘Our office is thick in security measures. Everything is in silos and covered in passwords and need-to-know measures.’
Ted had been thinking about this all day and weighing up the odds.
‘ Erin, there’s a guy I know. He’s got special talents around computers. He makes them talk, sing – hell, sit up and beg. He’s weird and operates on a very fine line between legal and deserving of twenty years in the pen. I don’t know if he’s still around, nor on which side of the bars, but it’s worth a call.’
‘ A hacker? Christ. None of the Wikileaks crew, I trust?’
He smiled and shook his head.
‘ No loose cannons here. I’ll give him a call and then you go meet him and see what you can come up with. That is, if he’ll take a call from me.’ Ted looked guiltily at her. ‘After our last outing, once the excitement died down, I kind of let things drift. And before you know it ten years goes by. What do you think?’
A frown was gathering across her eyes. She l ooked down at her barely touched fish and then straightened her shoulders.
‘What would I have to do?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe slip him a password or something.’
‘How could I trust him not to milk us?’
‘Meet him and decide.’
‘As an officer of the bank I could get twenty years.’
‘ You have to decide how much this matters to you.’
He said nothing, just waited. She nodded her head a couple of times as though she was agreeing with something inside herself.
‘What skin are you putting into this game, Mr Saddler?’
He sighed. ‘I’ll see if I can find my passport and go check out People’s Bank on their home turf. God help me. I’ll also put out feelers to see who knows what in the market. GA can’t do it all without bumping into other folks.’ He paused and held her eyes.
Her voice took on her customary confidence and certainty. The thinking was done, the decision taken. Next came execution. That’s how she operated.
‘It’s the least you should do. OK, Ted, I’ll talk to your hacker friend. No promises. But you and I shouldn’t meet anymore. I’ll have him set up untraceable email addresses for you and me. Private cell phones. I’ll text you a number. Anything he finds, I’ll have him send directly to you.’
Ted agreed, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than he felt. Despite her pressure tactics, he wouldn’t have minded a return match at Giovanni’s Room. Especially if he could guarantee approbation from her questioning eyes. It had been a while since he cared what a woman thought of him.
TEN
A s usual, in the comparative cool of early morning, the women drifted down the twisting central street and gathered round the two water pumps and the wooden trough. They stepped daintily over the nuggets of goat dung. The Dalit women hadn’t swept the area yet. The five spreading neem trees ringed three sides of the small central square and formed a bank of shade for much of the day. The trees were laden with fat seeds, soon to be harvested.
The neems had stood for as long as anyone could remember. Some said they were the survivors of a forest that used to fill the valley. Younger versions of this great oak-like tree had been nurtured all over the village. Even now, in the hottest time of the year, with water so scarce that they had to crank the hand pumps for almost a minute to get the first splash of water, the trees held their leaves. They were a talisman for the survival of the village. Though the river had been taken away, so long as the neems still sto od, the village would continue.
It was a full turn-out – maybe forty in all - and most got there early to grab favoured spots between the roots of the trees. Even a few of the Dalits had now shown up, but were standing well to the back of the main group so as not
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