Those Who Play With Fire, Chapter Eight

Photo: Harland Quarrington/MOD, OGL v1.0OGL v1.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Standing on the pavement, he made a phone call as he walked to the tube station. At St. Pancras, before boarding, he bought a coffee and sandwiches, it was the stopping train, settling into his seat, he was ready for a longer journey. As the train pulled into Market Harborough, he stood ready to leave. There were a few others on the platform, he followed them through the barriers and out into the carpark, a car’s headlights flashed at him. It was an old Ford Fiesta, like the driver, it had seen better days. Dave climbed into the passenger seat his size filling the space. “Hi Trev, how’s it going?” “Shit, as usual, missing husbands, missing wives, extra marital shags, even missing fucking pets.” Trevor Hurst was in his fifties, he had spent twenty five years in the police force before he decided to resign, it was that or face a disciplinary board. He was caught with his trousers round his ankles when he should have been on a stakeout in Leicester. The WPC who was with him had left the force, Trevor brazened it out, resigning when he could see that he would lose. His pension was intact, that was his main concern. He set himself up as a private investigator in Leicester and made a modest living at it. “Drive me to Leicester station, we can talk on the way,” He drove out the carpark and up through the town centre. Dave liked the place, it still had a county town feel about it. He waited until they were in the countryside before speaking. “Got much on just now?” “I have a woman who thinks her husband is playing away with another woman at his work. I’ve spent fucking hours following him, trying to catch him out. Nothing for weeks, I followed him to the Marriott hotel one evening, he checked in at reception, I sat in the lounge waiting, he went up to his room then returned and headed for the bar. Next thing I know there is a much younger athletic bloke with him, you didn’t need to be a detective to tell that they were a couple. After a few drinks, I watched from reception as they walked to the lifts. I could see right in, as the door closed, they were kissing each other. How do I tell a wife that her husband prefers another man to her? Anyway, you haven’t asked me to meet you to find out what I am doing.” “Trevor, I may need your assistance on a job I am working on, I’m just at the beginning. The problem is the suspect may recognise me, so I need someone to do some tailing, would you be available?” “Sure, if the money is right,” “£200 a day plus expenses.” Ask your boss for more,” “there isn’t any extra on this job, it’s internal, it’s coming out their own budget.” “When and how long? “Possibly within the next two weeks, as for how long, it depends on what you find out.” “Are you sure there is no more money?” “Definitely not, yes or no.” Dave knew that protest about the money was just show, he always needed work, and money. He had used Trevor on several occasions before. He blended into a crowd, he could do smart as well as casual, his speech changed depending on who he spoke to. Dave liked him because he was good at his job and didn’t ask questions. He had met him by chance when he was still in the police. They were both watching the same person, but for different reasons. They had chatted and got on well, Dave had given him a story about being a tax inspector checking on possible VAT fraud. Trevor was following him as he was  suspected of money laundering. As they went their separate ways Dave gave Trevor a number to call if he found anything out that would help his enquiry. He had said to leave a message and he would get back to him. There had been no contact for over six months, Trevor was going through his disciplinary, once out the force, trying to find work, he left a message for Dave. He had then used him when he didn’t want to bring anyone else in on a case. It suited Dave, Trevor was only known to him, there was no connection to the MOD.

“Call me when you want me to start, after I drop you off, I have to search for a fucking cat, stupid woman thinks the neighbours have stolen it. I’ve tried to tell her that cats choose where they live, if it prefers the neighbour then there’s not much she or I can do.”

Dave went down onto the platform at Leicester station, he checked the information board, rang Sally letting her know the arrival time. She was waiting for him, he climbed in and they drove off. As soon as he was inside the house, he showered and changed into shorts, sitting in the garden, he thought when would be the best time to speak about the work he hoped she would agree to do. There was no time like the present, he called her outside, she came to join him, picking up the can of lager he had opened she took a refreshing drink. She reached out for his hand and pulled it towards her, it came to rest in her lap. “Sally, I need to ask you something, I don’t want an answer now, I want you to think carefully before answering.” She wondered what he was going to say, it sounded like he was about to propose to her, she quickly dismissed that idea. “The work I have to do is hopefully going to generate a lot of information. This will all need to be written up, cross checked and compared to other sources. I said today that there was no way I could do all this myself, your name was mentioned as a possible assistant for me. I said you were unaware of what I was doing and would need to be asked. There was also a question of vetting as some of the information would be secret.” “I already have a job, I wouldn’t want to give that up, where would I be working, what work is involved, do I get paid? “You would be working next to me upstairs, the work is mostly on databases and spreadsheets, checking times and places and of course you would be paid. You would carry on working and fit anything you did for me round your work.” Sally drank more from the can. “What if I say no?” “I will have to work out of an office in Birmingham where there will be security cleared staff.” “Let me think about it, how long for?” “Probably two maybe three weeks.” With a last drink, she returned to the kitchen. Dave had no idea how it would go, he sat drinking the rest of the can. Sally called him when their meal was ready, there was very little conversation, as soon as the meal was over, Sally went upstairs, he could hear the bath being run. It was an hour and a half before she joined him in the living room. While she was soaking, his phoned had pinged with new log in information. He replied with the bank account details, there had been a further message, just one word ‘vetting?’ Dave didn’t reply to that one. “I’ve been in the bath thinking, it brought back a lot of memories for me, mostly good, but some not so good. The work doesn’t bother me, it’s just that I would hate myself if I discovered something that led to you being hurt.” “If you didn’t find it, someone else would.” “That’s not the point, you know you have a dangerous job, maybe I don’t want to find out how dangerous it really is.” She was now sitting beside him, “I think I’ve fallen in love with you and it scares me that you might get hurt.” Dave put his arm round Sally and pulled her close. Fifteen minutes later, having come to a decision, she sat up and moved to be beside Dave, “I will do it on one condition, if I don’t like it or it becomes too scary then I can stop?” Dave nodded, then pulled her back close. They hadn’t had coffee earlier, he went into the kitchen and filled two mugs. While there he sent a text, ‘yes’ was all it said. “I want you to tell me everything start at the beginning and don’t miss anything out.” “I shouldn’t until you have been cleared, but I have never been one for sticking to the rules. He told her most of the facts, he missed out any reference to Freddie or Trevor, no one, other than himself needed to know that. “This is deep stuff you are involved in here, where do you think it stops?” “I have no idea, that is what we are going to find out.”

On Tuesday morning, neither of them woke before 08.00, it was Sally’s day off, Dave had lay thinking long after she had gone to sleep. They were ready to start by 09.00. The first job was to make enough space for Sally to work alongside Dave. The boxes that were piled up on one side were moved to the garage. Another desk was needed. “We’ll do that next, then hopefully if the computer has been collected, we can go shopping.” Sally picked up her phone, she had heard it ping and checked to see who had sent her a message, it was an email, she opened it up, “Christ, it’s from the MOD, I have my security clearance back.” She stood staring at her phone, “how did they get my email address, did you give it to them?” “I only gave them your name, they will have found it when doing their checks.” “There’s a van outside,” Dave went out to see the same van and driver who had dropped off the computer last week. “I’ve come to pick up a box,” the garage was still open, he stuck a label on the top, covering the original, picked it up and carried it to the van. In minutes, he was gone. Inside, he called to Sally saying they could now go shopping. First call was to buy another laptop, Dave wanted one the same as he had previously bought. With that done, he drove on to a warehouse that sold used office furniture, he bought a desk and two chairs. Paying cash, he wanted to know when they could be delivered. “Wednesday or Thursday, it’s an extra twenty quid if it’s in town, the further out you are the more expensive it becomes.” “I want them delivered today, preferably within the next hour.” “Not a chance,” Dave offered to pay more, the man behind the counter shook his head, he then picked up the money he had put down. There was an instant reaction from the man, “fifty quid and we will deliver them today,” Dave said that he wanted them in an hour, he offered £30.00 now and the extra £20.00 on delivery. With the deal done, it was back to the house. He left the laptop in its box while he logged on to his machine and passed it over to Sally, she was sitting on the kitchen chair, the screen was waiting for a user name and password. Taking notes, she watched as he activated the VPN and then connected to the neighbours wi-fi. “What’s that you have just done?” “The VPN disguises where we are, and we are using one of your neighbour’s wi-fi.” Next, he took out the notebook with the three names that Roger Peterson may be using. “Type these names into Google, Facebook and Linkedin, see if you get any hits. Anyone below forty ignore.”

Dave waited for the desk and chairs to arrive, he made sandwiches and coffee and took them upstairs, there was a knock at the door, “close the laptop, the desk is here.” Dave made them carry the desk upstairs and put it beside where Sally was sitting, the chairs were next, Dave gave the driver and his mate the £20.00 as agreed plus another £5.00 saying to them to buy a coffee on the way back.

It wasn’t long before the new laptop was up and running, there was no need to log in to the MOD site, the information Dave wanted wasn’t going to be there. Sally had been through the three names, only one name had brought up any significant hits. Stuart Ogilvy had plenty of hits on Facebook, she had narrowed it down to five she thought may be possible. “Rule out any before 2019,” he plugged a memory stick into his laptop and loaded several programs. He started with the DVLA, surprised by the number of ‘Stuart Ogilvy’s’ there are in the UK, Dave searched through the issue dates, He hadn’t asked Freddie when he had created the ID’s but he guessed during the two years prior to his leaving the service. There were three, He brought up the image for each one, “bingo, got him.” Sally stopped to look, “is that him?” “I only saw him a couple of times, but yes, that’s him.” He took a screenshot of the drivers licence, sent it across to Sally and carried on searching. The DVLA file had a better image which he downloaded. On Google Streetview the address from the licence was a newsagent’s in Reading. There would be no point in pursuing that avenue. Sally had tied the image to a ‘Stuart Ogilvy’ on Facebook. Only a name and image. No personal information. On the HMRC servers there was no one that matched, plenty with the same name, however no one matched the profile. He needed more information and he was going to have to take a risk, he checked the time. It was almost 16.30. He took out a burner phone and from his notebook, he quickly dialled a number, the phone at the other end rang and rang, “shit, too late,” Dave thought. At last, it was answered, “Hello, records,” “Hi Freddie,” “Fucking leave me alone.” “Phone me on the number I gave you as soon as you are out of the building and it’s safe.” Dave hung up and waited. “Do you want a coffee, I need to wait for a call back before I can go any further just now.” Sally nodded, “and biscuits.” Dave waited downstairs for the phone to ring, he didn’t want Sally to know he was speaking to someone inside the MOD. It wasn’t long before it rang, “what do you want, the word is you’ve been kicked out?” “The three id’s you made, which bank did you use for the account and cards?” There was silence for a while, “2018, I used Home Counties,” “did you keep the numbers, just in case you had a bit of blackmail in mind?” “No, I destroyed everything as soon as I had finished.” “Thanks Freddie, I’ll be in touch.” Dave hung up and took the coffee and biscuits upstairs. Freddie was standing outside Westminster tube station cursing Dave Stretton.

He loaded one of the programs he had installed from his memory stick. It hadn’t let him down before, he hoped it would still work. “Sally, can you check your emails to see if you have had any login details sent to you.” There were no emails, “I’ve had a text, it says to ring a number for access to the system.” “Ring it, they will ask you loads of security questions, have a pen ready.” Sally called the number, she was on the phone for almost fifteen minutes, at the end of it she could login and change the temporary password they had given her. Once she was in, he asked her to search for the web address for Home Counties Bank admin login. “It’s different to when I last used it, bear with me. “Try ‘bank access’.” Five minutes later, she read out the information he wanted.

Dave prayed the software would work, he typed in exactly the details Sally had just given him. He pressed enter, the hourglass on the screen spun round, every so often it would stop then start again. This went on for over five minutes, it was never a quick result. Suddenly the spinning stopped and he was into the back end of the Home Counties banking system. He put ‘Stuart Ogilvy’ into a search box. It came up with two accounts, one opened in 1997 and one in 2018, Daves heart was pounding, he clicked on the one from 2018. The account appeared on the screen, he searched for the button to download statements, he had to open another screen to find it. Quickly he put in the date ranges from the day the account was opened until the last one on the list. He pressed download. Hopefully he would be in and out before anything flagged up to their IT department. As soon as the download had finished, he opened the pdf’s to make sure everything was readable. He logged out and closed the software. “Have you just downloaded his bank statements?” Sally was shocked, “you shouldn’t be able to do that.” “There is a lot I shouldn’t be able to do, but I can. The software is from the dark web, it is not standard MOD issue. I think MI5 has something similar, however they have to have top level authorisation. That’s enough for today, log out and shut down.” “I want to carry on,” “we need to eat, I’ll order a takeaway and see what you feel like afterwards.” Waiting for the food to arrive, Dave sent a message to the Major, he wanted to know the Home Secretary’s bank. The reply was swift, it told him not to go there, the Home Secretary was off limits.

With food eaten, Dave was also keen to carry on, he would find the bank, anyone who he thought needed to be investigated, would be.

He typed in ‘UK Home Secretary’ on Wikipedia, there was loads about his early life, his political career and the good work he did. It listed his constituency in the North West. Dave found the local paper online, he searched for Mark James. It returned what seemed like hundreds of articles. While he was doing that, having transferred the bank statements to Sally, he asked her to convert the PDF’s into one Excel spreadsheet and to make sure the columns made sense. He skimmed through the newspaper hoping to find a lead, he didn’t know what it would be, but something would alert him. It was an hour before he saw it. There was a picture of him at a golf club presentation evening. Mark James was a member of the local golf club. He hoped they were a club in the 21st century. Their website was modern, the front page had images of the course and the latest results. There was a section to renew fees online, that must mean there are bank details somewhere. Dave was smiling, he didn’t have the back end address but he didn’t think it would be too difficult, it wasn’t, he found the web address quite quickly. He set the software to work again. While waiting, he asked Sally how she was doing. “I’m fine, I won’t spend too much longer, I have work tomorrow.” “I just want you to do one more thing for me, I will need another bank back end address in a minute, will you find it for me please.” It didn’t take long, before he was in. He went straight to the members list. Mark James was there, he opened up that entry, his account number and sort code were there. There was no encryption, everything was in plain sight. He typed the sort code into Google and it revealed both the bank and the branch address. “Scottish Provincial Bank, can you find their admin address?” Sally gave him the details and closed down her laptop. She had enjoyed the work, it was much more interesting than answering the phones and typing up reports.

The software worked and he was into the admin side of the Scottish Provincial Bank. He typed in the name and account number, a screen came up saying access was restricted. He hoped the software would get him past this block, it did, and he was soon downloading the statements. He hoped there wasn’t a report generated to say the account had been accessed. If there was, he suspected that the IT person reading it would not disclose that their system had been breeched.

That was it for his first day working with Sally, it had been a productive one and he was impressed at how well she had done. She was in the bath soaking, he sat on the toilet seat, “thank you for everything you have done today, I really appreciate it.” Her eyes were closed, she turned her head and smiled. He stripped off and showered, Sally was out the bath as he switched off the shower, the en suite bathroom didn’t have a lot of room to spare. Dave saw she had a towel wrapped round herself. As he stood there naked, he tugged the towel until it fell to the floor, he moved towards her and held her firmly. She didn’t resist. They kissed passionately before separating to dry themselves. It was 22.00, Sally was tired, it had been a long day. Dave’s head was all over the place, Sally had done as he had asked her, but he was having to think several steps ahead to keep the information flowing. He had purposely not examined anything downloaded, if he had started, he would still be sitting there in the morning. Downstairs in the darkened lounge with just his towel on, his eyes were closed planning tomorrow, Sally would be back around 16.00 and after a break, she might join him, he wasn’t going to put any pressure on her to work, “Are you coming to bed,” Sally was in the kitchen, there was a milky drink on the table. “In a bit,” “come now, you must be knackered.” She left her drink and went to join him. Pulling off her towel, she climbed on top of him, putting her arms tightly round his neck. “Will this persuade you to come to bed?” He stood up, she wrapped her legs round his back to hold on. Carrying her upstairs and into the bedroom, he lay her down in the middle of the bed, he pulled off his towel and lay on top of her.
 

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