the two laptops. A bit technical for me, I’m afraid. I might understand it, but not well enough to repeat it and have it make sense. Are you okay to hang on, or do you want me to give you a call when he gets here?’
Tom agreed to wait and took out his mobile to make a few quick calls – one of which was to Leo. He had been planning on suggesting they got together tonight, but he had no idea what time he would be finished here. Maybe he should offer to cook them a late supper, if she could buy the ingredients. They had to eat, after all. But there was no reply, and he didn’t have time to leave a message. He looked up as he heard footsteps approaching the desk.
‘Gil, pull up a chair,’ Becky said.
Tom smiled and nodded at Gil Tennant. As unlike a stereotypical technology geek as you could imagine, he was almost dapper in appearance. Short and slender as a teenage girl, today he was wearing mustard-coloured jeans and a black polo shirt, with immaculate black suede trainers to match. Tom had noticed on a few occasions that Gil was a man who liked to co-ordinate his shoes: a strange, but harmless fetish. His wiry hair was gelled into submission, and he looked permanently surprised – a look that Tom sometimes suspected was down to a bit of surreptitious eyebrow plucking.
‘Okaaaay,’ Gil said, drawing out the word dramatically. ‘A few interesting facts here. What do you know about FaceTime?’
Tom looked at Becky and shrugged. ‘I know what it is. I’ve used it on my Mac at home. But let’s assume nothing. That’s probably best.’
‘FaceTime is used to communicate between any two relatively recent Apple devices: iPhones, iPads, Macs, whatever. It’s a video link – just like Skype, really. Okay up to now?’
Tom hid a smile at being spoken to as if he were six years old, and nodded.
‘Right. Well the thing is, if FaceTime calls are made between computers rather than mobile phones, as they were in this case…
allegedly
,’ Gil stressed the word, paused and gave them both a little smirk, ‘the contact is between email addresses, so we can use the computer’s IP address to identify the user’s location.’
Tom tuned out while Gil explained in unnecessary detail the difference between the various technologies and the intricacies of tracing people. He had been through this before, so he let his mind wander to Olivia Brookes and the first time he had met her, one wild and windy November night almost nine years ago. He shouldn’t have been there at all, really, but Ryan Tippetts was giving Tom a lift home when the call came through. Ryan had been asked to visit Olivia and Tom had gone with him.
His lasting memory was of Olivia rocking back and forth, clasping a crying baby to her chest and repeating over and over again, ‘Dan wouldn’t leave us. I know he wouldn’t leave us. Please find him.’ It had been heartbreaking to watch her. Tom’s daughter Lucy was only a little older than Olivia’s baby, and he knew how Kate would have reacted in the same circumstances. Of course, that was when he and Kate were happy.
Tom realised that Gil had paused again, looking from one to the other and back again to see if they were keeping up with him.
‘Now, let’s start with Mr Brookes, shall we?’ he beamed at them both. ‘Am I right in saying that he claims to have contacted her daily?’
‘Yes,’ Becky added. ‘Up to Friday morning.’
Gil made a clicking sound with his tongue and wagged his index finger in the air.
‘Not true, Mr Brookes. We’ve checked his laptop, and he did contact his wife using FaceTime – every night and most mornings. But only until Wednesday. After his Wednesday evening call, there are no more calls from his laptop.’
Gil had finally captured Tom’s interest. So Robert had lied about when he’d last spoken to his wife. Why did that not surprise him?
‘But we’ve checked the log on Mrs Brookes’ laptop too, and the interesting thing is that the log is showing
Tom agreed to wait and took out his mobile to make a few quick calls – one of which was to Leo. He had been planning on suggesting they got together tonight, but he had no idea what time he would be finished here. Maybe he should offer to cook them a late supper, if she could buy the ingredients. They had to eat, after all. But there was no reply, and he didn’t have time to leave a message. He looked up as he heard footsteps approaching the desk.
‘Gil, pull up a chair,’ Becky said.
Tom smiled and nodded at Gil Tennant. As unlike a stereotypical technology geek as you could imagine, he was almost dapper in appearance. Short and slender as a teenage girl, today he was wearing mustard-coloured jeans and a black polo shirt, with immaculate black suede trainers to match. Tom had noticed on a few occasions that Gil was a man who liked to co-ordinate his shoes: a strange, but harmless fetish. His wiry hair was gelled into submission, and he looked permanently surprised – a look that Tom sometimes suspected was down to a bit of surreptitious eyebrow plucking.
‘Okaaaay,’ Gil said, drawing out the word dramatically. ‘A few interesting facts here. What do you know about FaceTime?’
Tom looked at Becky and shrugged. ‘I know what it is. I’ve used it on my Mac at home. But let’s assume nothing. That’s probably best.’
‘FaceTime is used to communicate between any two relatively recent Apple devices: iPhones, iPads, Macs, whatever. It’s a video link – just like Skype, really. Okay up to now?’
Tom hid a smile at being spoken to as if he were six years old, and nodded.
‘Right. Well the thing is, if FaceTime calls are made between computers rather than mobile phones, as they were in this case…
allegedly
,’ Gil stressed the word, paused and gave them both a little smirk, ‘the contact is between email addresses, so we can use the computer’s IP address to identify the user’s location.’
Tom tuned out while Gil explained in unnecessary detail the difference between the various technologies and the intricacies of tracing people. He had been through this before, so he let his mind wander to Olivia Brookes and the first time he had met her, one wild and windy November night almost nine years ago. He shouldn’t have been there at all, really, but Ryan Tippetts was giving Tom a lift home when the call came through. Ryan had been asked to visit Olivia and Tom had gone with him.
His lasting memory was of Olivia rocking back and forth, clasping a crying baby to her chest and repeating over and over again, ‘Dan wouldn’t leave us. I know he wouldn’t leave us. Please find him.’ It had been heartbreaking to watch her. Tom’s daughter Lucy was only a little older than Olivia’s baby, and he knew how Kate would have reacted in the same circumstances. Of course, that was when he and Kate were happy.
Tom realised that Gil had paused again, looking from one to the other and back again to see if they were keeping up with him.
‘Now, let’s start with Mr Brookes, shall we?’ he beamed at them both. ‘Am I right in saying that he claims to have contacted her daily?’
‘Yes,’ Becky added. ‘Up to Friday morning.’
Gil made a clicking sound with his tongue and wagged his index finger in the air.
‘Not true, Mr Brookes. We’ve checked his laptop, and he did contact his wife using FaceTime – every night and most mornings. But only until Wednesday. After his Wednesday evening call, there are no more calls from his laptop.’
Gil had finally captured Tom’s interest. So Robert had lied about when he’d last spoken to his wife. Why did that not surprise him?
‘But we’ve checked the log on Mrs Brookes’ laptop too, and the interesting thing is that the log is showing
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