Jim Farlow had been doing rather well, really, in the past month or so. He had studiously been working his way through the lists that Robin Hood had given him, and had managed, during the long hours of his night shift, to get the encryption codes and passwords for almost all the accounts Robin had listed. That left Robin free to access them, and transfer money from them into the two special numbered accounts he had opened in Switzerland. These were building up nicely, as he had hoped, and he would soon be ready to instruct the two banks to start their part of the operation.
In Oxford, work on developing the new bank security operating system, to replace the one they had compromised so effectively, was nearing completion. Computer Solutions had been formally constituted, and had now settled in its new company office suite in the business park. Sergei Volkov had just started his full-time work at the University, but was still able to spend some time, as a consultant, helping Robin to put the finishing touches to their new computer programme.
That morning, Robin was using the computer to design the artwork for an advertising campaign he planned for the launch of his newly formed company. Computer graphics had always fascinated him, so he was quite enjoying himself.
“Just think,” he said to Marian, “that at one time I wanted to do this for a living, working in the advertising industry. Now, here I am trying to devise a campaign for my own company.”
“It could be a useful skill to fall back on,” said Marian. “We still don’t know if this venture of ours is going to work out as we hope.”
“True,” Robin agreed. “Much will depend on how we manage to market the new banking operating system, once that’s finished.”
“How are the trials going?” asked Marian.
“Very well, really,” replied Robin. “Grudge and I agree that there’s probably not a lot more we need to do to the system. Once we’re happy with it, we shall need to license the thing in our name, and then get out into the market place with it. Quite honestly, I’m not really sure where to start with that.”
“Perhaps one of the banks you ‘borrowed’ from, when you put money into your Aunt’s account,” suggested Marian. “They will have first-hand experience of how vulnerable the old system turned out to be, in spite of everyone thinking it was foolproof.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” replied Robin, pensively. “I think I’d really prefer to demonstrate the system’s weakness as a new exercise, rather than expose the fact that I’ve been acting illegally in the past. The last thing I want is to end up in prison!”
“It’s all been properly paid back,” protested Marian, “so they can’t accuse you of theft. I’ve kept very precise and accurate records, specially.”
“I know you have, my dear, but the fact is that taking the money in the first place was against the law. I’d much rather stage a proper demonstration somewhere, so that one of the banks can actually see the weaknesses we have managed to expose as we show them how we are able to compromise their security systems. Then we can go on to demonstrate the complete replacement that we have devised, and show them how much more robust it is.”
“Makes a lot of sense, that,” said Rupert, who had joined the company on its formation. Rupert knew of Robin’s ability to break into banking computer systems, and was helping with the latter stages of the development of the new encrypted operating system, but he had no idea what use Robin was making of his earlier work. Only Marian and Grudge knew the details of that. “We can rehearse the demonstration here until we’re happy with it,” concluded Rupert, “stopping short of actually getting into a bank’s treasury system.”
“That’s what I’d prefer,” said Robin. “But I can’t decide which bank to chose, that’s the problem.”
“Why not start at the top,” suggested Rupert, “and try to interest the Bank of England itself. They’re at the very heart of things in the City.”
“Now that is a good idea,” exclaimed Robin. “I knew there was a reason for taking you on!”
Valya stuck her head round the door.
“Phone call for you, Robin,” she said. “Won’t give his name, but he sounds very excited and says he calling from East Africa.”
“That must be Will Bartlett,” said Robin. “I was going to ring him later - put him through.”
It was Will, and he was definitely very excited.
“I don’t know what you’ve been up to, Robin,” he said, “but there is all sorts of trouble going on here!”
“Where are you?” demanded Robin.
“Bulawayo again,” replied Will. “I met up with Bonkers here last night - one of our ‘contacts’ - know what I mean? - suggested it would be a good idea.”
“So what’s going on?” asked Robin.
“Well, it seems that a lot of very senior people here have suddenly lost a lot of money,” explained Will. “According to reports I’m getting, some of them have lost almost everything, and there is no end of grief as a result. One of them, would you believe, is the President himself, and he is mightily displeased. He’s having a huge palace-of-a-place built at vast expense, and he suddenly finds he can’t pay the bills. Lot’s of his cronies are in the same boat, apparently. Not just government ministers and officials, but judges, senior military and all sorts. There’s real panic at the top over here, I can tell you!”
“But it’s all money gained from corruption in the first place,” Robin pointed out.
“Perhaps it is,” said Will, “but they thought it was secure nonetheless, and now it’s suddenly disappearing from their bank accounts like monsoon rain down the storm drains. According to my contacts, some of them have been left penniless, and although a few own commandeered farms requisitioned for them by the war veterans, these are just about worthless now, as you know.”
“What’s being said publicly?” asked Robin.
“Absolutely nothing,” replied Will. “So far, there’s been nothing in The Herald or the other media, but that’s no real surprise as it’s all government owned anyway. But there are rumours circulating, and some ministers are putting it about that this is all the work of the UK government, trying to bring the regime down.”
“I suppose the diplomats must know about it, then.”
“I’m sure they must. If I know about it, they must as well. There’s even talk about a possible coup or some other attempt to overthrow the government, funded from abroad,” said Will, getting quite breathless with excitement.
“I might have a quiet word with my father’s old colleague - you know, the chap who’s Defence Attache in Harare who we visited.”
“Be interesting to know what he’s heard,” commented Will.
“Can I pass on what you’ve told me?” enquired Robin.
“By all means,” replied Will. “I’d rather you didn’t give my name as the source, though, just in case someone’s listening.”
“Understood,” agreed Robin. “I’ll let you know what he says. And please give me a ring if you hear anything else exciting.”
Robin couldn’t immediately get hold of Group Captain Charles Bowman in Harare, for the simple reason that he was himself on the secure ‘red’ phone to the Head of the Cabinet Office Briefing Room, retired Air Commodore Paul Bridges.
“I thought I should give you a call, rather than send the usual telegram, as the people here still call them,” he said, “because it looks as if we are getting the blame for what at the moment appears to be a major failure of the local banking system. The Ambassador is on to the Foreign Office, and my usual contact in MOD is out, otherwise, I’d call him.”
“What’s happening, then?” asked Bridges.
“All sorts of top people, from the President downwards, are suddenly finding their personal bank accounts have been emptied,” explained Bowman. “This is causing considerable anger, and rumours and accusations are flying around, as you can imagine.”
“But most of it was siphoned off from official funds and international aid in the first place, wasn’t it?” asked Bridges. “That’s why we stopped financial support for the land reform programme.”
“Exactly,” agreed Bowman. “And that’s why we are now being accused of further skulduggery by emptying their personal coffers, as some sort of revenge for evicting white farmers.”
“Couldn’t be done, even if we wanted to, could it? Emptying their accounts, I mean?”
“Of course not,” replied Bowman. “It has to be a major banking systems failure somewhere, but that doesn’t stop this desperate bunch looking round for a scapegoat. And that’s the UK again.”
Bowman went on to brief the COBR man about the individuals that he was aware of who had been affected and who were apparently running around like headless chickens because they could no longer pay their bills. The President himself was incandescent with rage, and, given that he was unpredictable at the best of times, could do anything without notice.
“Which is why I thought I should give you a bell,” concluded the Defence Attache.
“Why me, specially?” asked Bridges.
“Well, I remember that you called a meeting to discuss the situation over here not too long ago, while I was at MOD. Squadron Leader Gavin Williams attended on my behalf.”
“You’ve got a good memory, Charles,” said Paul Bridges. “I’ll pass on what you’ve told me straight away, but perhaps you’d follow this up with an e-mail telegram in the usual way so that we’ve got a proper record in writing of what’s going on. And don’t hesitate to give me a call again if anything else major happens.”
It was shortly after this that Robin was able to get through to the Group Captain in Harare.
“I hope you don’t mind me ringing you, out of the blue,” said Robin, “but I remember when we met a few months ago that you said you were in the business of collecting useful information, and asked us to keep our eyes open for anything interesting.”
“Yes, I do remember that,” said Bowman. “Sally ticked me off for asking you to spy on my behalf when you were on holiday!”
The two of them laughed.
“As it happens, I had nothing to report then, anyway,” said Robin, “but I’ve just had an excited phone call from a chum of mine in Bulawayo, and I thought you might be interested. I think I mentioned him to you when we met - son of an evicted white farmer?”
“Indeed I do remember,” said the Defence Attache.
“Well, it was he who rang me,” said Robin. “And I do realise that we’re on an open line which isn’t in the least secure, but I wondered if you’d heard about the reaction of some of the top people where you are to the apparent loss of their personal wealth?”
“This is extraordinary,” exclaimed Bowman. “I have only just put the phone down from talking to London about it. Tell me what your friend said. And don’t worry about security - anyone listening in at this end will already know what we’re talking about!”
Robin repeated what Will had told him.
“Fits in very well with what I’ve heard, too,” said Charles Bowman. “Although rumours of a coup are new to me, I must admit, and a bit worrying.”
“I’ve asked him to ring me again if he hears anything else interesting, so if you like I’ll pass that on, too,” offered Robin.
“Please do,” said Charles Bowman. “But, just as a matter of interest, did your friend say how he had come across all this information?”
“He didn’t say, but I think I know anyway,” replied Robin Hood. “And if you don’t mind, that is not something I will pass on over the phone.”
Robin knew it would be risky to describe Will’s network of contacts, in case the Defence Attache’s phone was bugged.
“I’m very interested to know how he came by this information, although I agree you shouldn’t discuss it over an open line,” said the Group Captain. “Where are you at the moment?”
“In my office in Oxford,” replied Robin.
There was a slight pause.
“Two things would be very useful,” said the man in Harare. “First of all, I would very much like to talk to your friend directly, either over the phone or face to face. Secondly, to achieve that, it would be very useful if I could talk to you over a secure phone first.”
“Where is there one?” asked Robin Hood.
“RAF Brize Norton is probably your nearest,” said the Group Captain, “but there would be a fuss organising that.”
“I could drive over there, if that would help,” offered Robin, “or I could get my contact to give you a ring. Perhaps you could then arrange to meet.”
“That might be a better solution,” agreed the Group Captain. “I could then pass on what he has to say over a secure link to London. I would like my contact in the Cabinet Office to know what’s going on - I was talking to him, just before you rang. Chap called Paul Bridges. He’s a retired Air Commodore, by the way, and knows your father.”
“Well - small world isn’t it!” exclaimed Robin. “I’ll get back to my contact right away,” said Robin. “His name is Will Bartlett, and he’s the son of one of the white farmers who has been evicted by the war veterans. But if you do want me to get to a secure phone, I shall be here for the rest of the day.”
“Excellent, thanks. That’s very kind of you. Talk to you again soon,” said Bowman and hung up.
Robin began to wonder if perhaps he wasn’t getting a bit out of his depth. It was he who had moved all the money about, although nobody knew that at the moment, and hopefully wouldn’t find out, either. But it seemed to be causing something of an international storm, which he hadn’t anticipated. Evicting the white farmers had given rise to a great deal of bad publicity, but nobody in the world had done anything about it, least of all offered to help the farmers involved. But he had, now, and it was causing a fuss. Perhaps that’s why no one else had ever done anything. Well, it was too late now so far as he was concerned. The people who had suffered would be compensated a little, thanks to his efforts, and now it was those who had caused the suffering who were feeling the pain.
Paul Bridges, in the meantime, had thought to put in another call to Alistair Vaughan, at the Bank of England.
“Since we last spoke,” he said, “I’ve heard more about the problems in Africa.”
“Interesting,” said Vaughan. “I’ve heard nothing at all on my network.”
“It looks as if there is a major row brewing somewhere,” continued Bridges. “One of my contacts in Harare tells me that a lot of very senior people seem to have suddenly lost all or most of their personal wealth, and it’s causing a lot of grief, as you can imagine.”
“Any idea what’s happened exactly?” asked Vaughan.
“Not yet,” replied his predecessor, in the Cabinet Office. “There seem to be two theories at the moment. One is that the banking system is in some form of melt down - computers packed up or something - and the other is that it’s the UK government playing tricks to avenge the plight of the white farmers.”
“Interesting,” said Vaughan again. “It’s certainly not the banks, so it must be you lot!”
“It certainly isn’t us,” responded Bridges. “How do you think we could hack into Zimbabwean banks from here and muck about with people’s accounts - even if we thought it was a good idea, in the first place, which it most certainly would not be?”
“Well, if it was the banking computer systems playing up, we’d know about it all right, and we don’t. The first I ever heard of any trouble there was when you mentioned it on the phone the other day,” said the man in Threadneedle Street. “I suppose you still don’t have any dates for when all this happened, do you?” he asked as an afterthought.
“None at all,” came the reply. “I’m hoping to learn more shortly, so if I get anything that might interest you, I’ll let you know.”
Robin managed to get hold of Will quite quickly, and told him of the interest in Whitehall about what he had said.
“There’s been all sorts of talk about trying to set up secure telephone links between us so that we can all talk at once, but I think the easiest thing would be for you to talk to the Defence Attache first, and perhaps try to meet him somewhere quiet,” suggested Robin.
“I can do that if he wants,” replied Will. “But what does he want to talk about?”
“Basically, he wants to know what you know, and how you got to know it, I think,” replied Robin. “He needs to be sure that any information he passes on is accurate and well sourced, rather than just tittle-tattle.”
“I can understand that,” agreed Will.
“Tell him about your informal network of contacts, and the sort of positions they hold, without giving any names, and that should convince him, as it did me when you first discussed it.”
“I shall certainly not be naming names,” said Will, “even to him. They are too valuable to put at risk.”
“Agreed,” said Robin. “And whatever else you tell him, keep my name out of it, too, if you don’t mind! He’s a friend of my father’s, as you know, so I certainly don’t want news getting back here about what I’ve been doing.”
“You can be sure of that,” Will reassured him. “If you manage to do what you set out to do, then there are many people here who will want you given a Knighthood, not a bollocking!”
“I think I’ve almost done enough now,” said Robin. “In view of the fuss which seems to be stirring, I think I’ll call a halt to the African operation any day at all. I may try to make a quick visit to see you again, and let you know what’s being done.”
“That would be great!” said Will. “We’d love to see you again. But I’d better try to get hold of your chum at the embassy. Let me have his phone number.”
***
Robin was briefing Marian about the afternoon’s developments. He had more or less decided now that enough was enough, and that he should call a halt not only to the African operations, but also to the Russian exercise in the next day or so.
“So far as I can see,” he told her, “there should be more than enough capital in each of the two Swiss banks now for them to operate a really good scheme for all of their new clients.”
“I agree,” said Marian. “According to the figures I’ve been keeping, there’s more than enough for the members of each group to be paid a handsome gratuity and still to receive a reasonable income from what’s left, through the annuity accounts. And we’ve just about hit all the accounts we were targeting, too,” she added.
“How far short of our target are we, as a matter of interest?” asked Robin.
“Two in Africa and one account of the American corporation, which is actually held in Hong Kong,” replied Marian.
“With Jim Farlow’s help, we could probably tackle those in the next day or so, don’t you think?” queried Robin.
“Quite possible, judging by what we’ve managed to achieve so far and the time it’s taken us,” agreed Marian. “But it really wouldn’t matter if we stopped now - there’s enough already.”
Robin sat thoughtfully for a moment.
“This is as much about punishing individuals who were so greedy and corrupt in the first place, as it is about helping their victims,” Robin reminded her. “So I’m inclined to press on and finish the job as planned, if we can, especially as there’s so little more to do,” he concluded.
“Well, I think we should stop while we’re ahead,” said Marian. “There’s trouble brewing in Zimbabwe, by the sound of it, and we can only make matters worse. Besides,” she added, “I’m worried that we might get found out in some way.”
“Please don’t worry,” Robin reassured her. “The way we’ve made all the transfers, through more than one bank, nobody will be able to trace the source of the funds, even to this country, since only a few of the deposits have been in pounds Stirling.”
In the end, the decision was made for them. Jim Farlow rang.
“I thought I should let you know straight away,” he said, “that the powers that be here seem to be on to the fact that something’s been going wrong within the banking community.”
“How do you know?” asked Robin.
“Well, apparently, the system that operates the international links between the world’s banks has been playing up in some way recently, and they are suspicious that it could be someone trying to hack their way into it,” he replied.
“Are you at the bank now?” asked Robin.
“No, I’m at home, but I shall be going in soon,” replied Jim. “I wouldn’t be so daft as to ring you from the office. But I’ve had a tip that they are looking at the possibility of it being an inside job, if in fact that is what’s happening,” he added. “Which is why I thought I should let you know right away, although, quite honestly, it doesn’t sound as if they’ve got a clue what’s going on. But if they are making internal enquiries, then they may well want to question me at some time.”
“Well, I think you should pull out immediately, for your own good,” said Robin. “Funnily enough, we were just discussing whether or not we should call a halt to the operation.”
“Why?” asked Jim.
“Well, apparently, there’s all hell breaking loose in Africa, with all sorts of top people jumping up and down because they seem to have lost all their money,” replied Robin. “Which could be another reason why the authorities are looking around to see if anyone is up to some mischief somewhere.”
“There’s only a couple more to do,” said Jim. “It would be a pity to stop short now.”
“I don’t want you taking any risks, Jim,” said Robin, and Marian nodded her agreement. “I think we should stop while we’re ahead. We’ve moved enough to achieve our objective, so let’s quit now.”
“Let me do a bit more tonight, as I’d planned,” said Jim, “then we’ll see.”
“I really would rather you didn’t,” insisted Robin. “Apart from anything else, I don’t want that piece of software you’re using getting into the wrong hands.”
“It won’t,” said Jim. “I’ve taken steps to ensure that it’s safe.”
“How?” enquired Robin.
“There’s a nifty little computer programme you can buy which lets you design and print your own CD and DVD labels, with jacket covers and everything. When I go in for a night shift, I take my personal CD player with me, with headphones and a wallet of my favourite discs,” explained Jim Farlow. “One of the discs is by a little-known group called “The Tellers”. It’s a single called ‘Pay-back time’. That’s yours.”
“Sounds brilliant - I’ll remember that,” said Robin. “But you just be careful, now things are stirring, and be ready to pull out at a moment’s notice. One day soon, I wouldn’t mind borrowing that new CD!”
“I’ll give it to you as a present!” replied Jim Farlow.
Robin told Marian what Jim had said.
“He insists on at least one more session, probably tonight, but they have noticed something wrong within the banking computer system and suspect an insider somewhere trying to hack into customer accounts. He thinks they might even question him at some time.”
“That could be difficult, for all of us, couldn’t it?” asked a worried Marian.
“They will need evidence to confirm any suspicions they might have, and so far as we know, there isn’t any evidence to be found.”
“What about the programme disc Jim has been using? Suppose they find that?”
“They probably won’t,” Robin reassured her. “He’s disguised it cleverly, and put it in with a bunch of pop CDs he carries with him.”
“Well, I still don’t like the look of things one little bit,” said Marian, “and I’m sure we should stop the whole operation now.”
“In view of what Jim has told us, I tend to agree now,” said Robin. “We should hear again from Will tomorrow after his chat with our friend at the embassy in Harare, and I think after that we shall call a halt. I’ll arrange to meet Jim to collect his new CD, and then I think you and I can go to Montreux again to let the banks know that they’ve got all they’re going to get. We could go on from there to meet Will again briefly, to tell him what we’ve done for him and his family.”
“And for Bonkers,” added Marian.
“Quite. By the time we get back, Rupert and Grudge should have managed to put the finishing touches to our presentation about the new encrypted operating system, so we can start to launch that.”
“Now they know there’s something going wrong within the current banking system, won’t that make it more difficult for us to present them with a replacement?” asked Marian. “Surely, they will immediately think it’s been us trying to hack into their computers.”
“They can think what they like,” replied Robin, “but they won’t be able to prove anything. They would have been down on us like a ton of brinks long ago if they had been able to trace any of this back to us.”
“Well, I really do begin to worry,” said Marian, frowning. “After all we’ve managed to do so far to try to help all those poor people who have been so shabbily treated round the world, it would be tragic if we were to fall at the last fence, so to speak.”
Robin put a reassuring arm round his partner’s waist. “I’m quite sure we shall be alright, so please stop fretting. And when everything is settled and we have launched our new product, we shall return to Africa for a proper holiday, and finish of our tour. That’s a promise.”
***
Will Bartlett wasn’t too happy about meeting the British Defence Attache in Harare.
It was a bit too close to home, so to speak, and he was never sure, these days, who could be trusted and who couldn’t. Anybody might see him at the Embassy. For all he knew, the police might already be tailing him for some reason or other.
He knew he had fallen foul of the law by getting cash out of the country for his father, although he was pretty sure he had managed to do it without arousing too much suspicion. However, it had been a terrible struggle, and with the Zimbabwean Dollar devaluing so fast, his father’s wealth had also dwindled to a shadow of its former worth. He knew that the few thousand US Dollars he had managed to get to South Africa had been very welcome, especially in the early days, but now it was getting more and more difficult to raise the cash, and his father had insisted that he should take no further risks.
But although he had reluctantly agreed to call it a day, he was still not sure of his own safety - and that in his own country, too. He realised that if he was picked up on some pretext or other, the Group Captain friend of Robin Hood was in no position to do anything to help, since Will wasn’t a British subject. He had been so keen, though, to hear more about what Will knew of recent developments, that the young Zimbabwean had readily agreed to meet him, if only to return a favour to Robin. But he was not happy about meeting him in Harare, and had said so.
“No problem,” Charles Bowman had responded. “I can travel if you can. I’m accredited to Mozambique as well, if that’s any use.”
“Never been to Maputo,” replied Will.
“How about Malawi, then? Do you know Lilongwe, or perhaps Zambia, if Lusaka isn’t too close to home for you,” suggested the Group Captain.
“Lusaka would be fine,” replied Will. “I know that quite well, and can get there easily from here.”
“When could you get there?” asked Bowman.
“Tomorrow,” replied Will. “If I stay at the Holiday Inn, that’s not too far from where all the embassies are, so we could meet there. There’s a decent bar and a couple of restaurants.”
“I know it well,” replied the Group Captain. “I’ll buy you lunch.”
It was a pleasant meal, and the two men got on well together, considering they had never met before. But they had common ground in that Bowman knew Robin and his parents.
“I met Robin in Nairobi,” explained Will, “when he was lecturing about computers during his gap year. A great friend on mine, who was the son of my father’s farm manager before we were evicted, was going to the lectures.”
“The Hoods are a nice family,” said Bowman, “but I haven’t seen Robin since he graduated. Why were you in Nairobi, anyway?”
“Trying to scratch together some of my father’s assets, and get the cash to him in South Africa. He’s helping to run a friend’s vineyard in the Western Cape, but had to leave almost everything behind when they were thrown off the farm,” explained Will.
“You are lucky not to have been caught,” commented Charles Bowman. “You must know the penalty for breaching the country’s finance rules. Did you get much out?”
“Not a lot, really,” he admitted, “and I’ve given up trying now. It’s become far too difficult and too risky, as you suggest. But you wanted to know about the breakdown in the banking system,” said Will. “What can I tell you that you don’t already know?”
“First of all, I’d like to hear exactly what you’ve heard about the situation, and how you got to hear about it. All I know so far, apart from what I’ve picked up on my network, is a report from Robin after you’d rung him.”
Will started off by telling the attache about the informal network of disillusioned citizens which had developed in Zimbabwe, and how they were scattered throughout almost every aspect of the country’s activities, fr