would have to be confirmed to his full satisfaction.) ‘You should call Sid and Steve,’ he added. ‘Tell them there’s an IRC bot that Vee might be accessing any minute. Tell them it’s fresh.’
‘Has someone hacked into Judith’s computer?’ Fiona inquired, as Saul picked up the desk-phone.
Cadel nodded, without looking at her. He knew that Vee’s malware had a tendency to recreate itself when threatened; stopping this process would require some pretty nifty footwork. ‘It’s Vee,’ he revealed, absentmindedly. ‘He’s been in here already.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Fiona.
‘Which makes a lot of sense,’ Cadel went on, still working away. ‘I couldn’t figure out what might have triggered that wheelchair attack. But if Judith came home, and said something to Sonja about turning the cameras off because I’d told her to …’ Instead of finishing the sentence, he shook his head.
By now Saul was talking to one of the cybercrime team. As he relayed Cadel’s message, Fiona ducked out of the room. Cadel barely registered her absence, because he had noticed something very interesting. Vee’s malware had been designed to take over a whole range of functions, including some that Judith’s house didn’t have. There was an application for hijacking a networked fountain pump, and a floor-washing iRobot. You could even gain access to a wireless security device specifically tailored to protect firearms. It was as if Vee’s program had been created to infiltrate a super-smart home full of bizarre, breakthrough gadgets.
Cadel wondered if the malware’s designer was simply being cautious. Perhaps Vee had devised a one-size-fits-all program, with a protocol for every possible contingency. But no: that couldn’t be it. Because no provision had been included for commandeering a Bluetooth-enabled microwave oven – even though there was a facility for hacking into a Bluetooth-enabled washing machine.
It was clear to Cadel that Vee’s malware had been engineered for another house: an actual, state-of-the-art, computerised house with guns in it. What’s more, the original voltage specifications had been adjusted, from 110 to 240 volts.
Though Cadel couldn’t be absolutely certain, he was pretty sure that the program had been written for a house in America.
‘Okay. They’re on that,’ Saul announced, hanging up. At the same instant, his mobile trilled; he grimaced apologetically before answering it.
‘Hello?’ he said.
Then Fiona stuck her head into the room.
‘I’ve repacked the bags,’ she reported. When Saul turned away, nursing his phone, she mouthed
‘Who’s that?
’ at Cadel.
Cadel shrugged. He was far too busy deleting the web browser cache to worry about Saul’s phone conversation. Besides, he was interested in the American ghost-house. Surely there couldn’t be many homes, even in the US, with a networked, toilet-cleaning iRobot? Or a programmable, sensor-driven showerhead? Or a Bluetooth-enabled washing machine? Cadel knew that, given enough time, he could probably even calculate how many rooms were in this mystery house.
If Vee had been hacking into another residence, and Cadel could identify it, then maybe – just maybe – it would be possible to work out what Prosper English was up to.
‘Uh-huh. Yep. Okay. Yeah, that would be great. Yeah, it is. Thanks for that. I really appreciate it.’ Saul’s rumbling commentary was simply background noise for Cadel, who ignored it until he heard the name ‘Richard’. Then he spun around as the detective, nodding gravely, listened to whatever recommendations were being fired at him from the other end of the line.
‘We’re onto it. What? Oh, sure. No problem,’ Saul mumbled. ‘Thanks again. You’ve been a big help. Okay. Yeah. Bye.’
And he broke the connection.
‘Well?’ Fiona and Cadel both chorused. Cadel added, ‘Was that Richard Buckland?’
‘Yeah.’ Saul looked up. He was frowning. ‘I rang him earlier. From the
‘Has someone hacked into Judith’s computer?’ Fiona inquired, as Saul picked up the desk-phone.
Cadel nodded, without looking at her. He knew that Vee’s malware had a tendency to recreate itself when threatened; stopping this process would require some pretty nifty footwork. ‘It’s Vee,’ he revealed, absentmindedly. ‘He’s been in here already.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Fiona.
‘Which makes a lot of sense,’ Cadel went on, still working away. ‘I couldn’t figure out what might have triggered that wheelchair attack. But if Judith came home, and said something to Sonja about turning the cameras off because I’d told her to …’ Instead of finishing the sentence, he shook his head.
By now Saul was talking to one of the cybercrime team. As he relayed Cadel’s message, Fiona ducked out of the room. Cadel barely registered her absence, because he had noticed something very interesting. Vee’s malware had been designed to take over a whole range of functions, including some that Judith’s house didn’t have. There was an application for hijacking a networked fountain pump, and a floor-washing iRobot. You could even gain access to a wireless security device specifically tailored to protect firearms. It was as if Vee’s program had been created to infiltrate a super-smart home full of bizarre, breakthrough gadgets.
Cadel wondered if the malware’s designer was simply being cautious. Perhaps Vee had devised a one-size-fits-all program, with a protocol for every possible contingency. But no: that couldn’t be it. Because no provision had been included for commandeering a Bluetooth-enabled microwave oven – even though there was a facility for hacking into a Bluetooth-enabled washing machine.
It was clear to Cadel that Vee’s malware had been engineered for another house: an actual, state-of-the-art, computerised house with guns in it. What’s more, the original voltage specifications had been adjusted, from 110 to 240 volts.
Though Cadel couldn’t be absolutely certain, he was pretty sure that the program had been written for a house in America.
‘Okay. They’re on that,’ Saul announced, hanging up. At the same instant, his mobile trilled; he grimaced apologetically before answering it.
‘Hello?’ he said.
Then Fiona stuck her head into the room.
‘I’ve repacked the bags,’ she reported. When Saul turned away, nursing his phone, she mouthed
‘Who’s that?
’ at Cadel.
Cadel shrugged. He was far too busy deleting the web browser cache to worry about Saul’s phone conversation. Besides, he was interested in the American ghost-house. Surely there couldn’t be many homes, even in the US, with a networked, toilet-cleaning iRobot? Or a programmable, sensor-driven showerhead? Or a Bluetooth-enabled washing machine? Cadel knew that, given enough time, he could probably even calculate how many rooms were in this mystery house.
If Vee had been hacking into another residence, and Cadel could identify it, then maybe – just maybe – it would be possible to work out what Prosper English was up to.
‘Uh-huh. Yep. Okay. Yeah, that would be great. Yeah, it is. Thanks for that. I really appreciate it.’ Saul’s rumbling commentary was simply background noise for Cadel, who ignored it until he heard the name ‘Richard’. Then he spun around as the detective, nodding gravely, listened to whatever recommendations were being fired at him from the other end of the line.
‘We’re onto it. What? Oh, sure. No problem,’ Saul mumbled. ‘Thanks again. You’ve been a big help. Okay. Yeah. Bye.’
And he broke the connection.
‘Well?’ Fiona and Cadel both chorused. Cadel added, ‘Was that Richard Buckland?’
‘Yeah.’ Saul looked up. He was frowning. ‘I rang him earlier. From the
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