Деон Мейер - Cobra

‘OK. And then?’

‘Well, I said of course I would do him a favour. And he said he’s in a bit of a bind, it’s very embarrassing, so it’s a really big favour, and it’s going to mean I have to travel halfway around the world, but he’s asking me because I’ve said more than once that I would love to visit Africa, and if I don’t feel comfortable, I should just say so, he would fully understand. So I said, wow, that sounds exciting, when did I have to go? And he said he’s booked a flight for me . . . Well, you know, in that very polite British way, he actually said he really hopes I don’t mind, but he’s taken the liberty of booking a flight for me, and it leaves at seven thirty on Monday night, from Heathrow, for Cape Town in South Africa.’

43

Griessel was still eating, without enjoyment. Mbali pushed her empty plate away, wiped her fingers with the paper serviette, and said, ‘Bones has found something interesting about David Adair.’

‘Yes?’

‘It might not . . .I’m trying to figure out what it means. Adair apparently belongs to a group of British scientists who are starting a protest group against government secrecy, and invasion of public privacy.’

Griessel raised his eyebrows, and Mbali continued, ‘Bones and I thought it was strange too. Because Adair’s algorithm does exactly that. It infringes on the privacy of anyone who uses banks.’

‘They are planning to start a protest group?’

‘Well, Bones says he only found one reference, and that is perhaps significant too. He says there was so much on the Internet about Adair and his protocol, and his algorithm, and his other academic work, that he almost missed it. He came across a small item in a weekly scientific newspaper, in the USA. It reported that a group of British scientists attended a conference on the Association . . . no, the . . . Project for Government Secrecy. It was held by an association or a federation of American scientists at the end of last year in St Louis. The leader of the British delegation was a political scientist, who told the newspaper that they were planning to start a similar project in the UK. And that they were very worried about their government’s suppression of information, but also the hijacking of new technologies to infringe the privacy of citizens. The newspaper listed one of the British team members as a Professor D. P. Adair.’

Griessel tried to fit this information in with what they knew, but it would not make sense.

‘I’ve been thinking, Benny, we know the UK ambassador has been talking to our minister of state security. And then MI6 and the SSA got involved very quickly, and we were taken off the case. So, now I wonder if this whole thing about Adair is maybe not about his banking software. I think it might be about government secrets. And with our government now passing legislation to be even more secretive . . . That’s maybe why they are cooperating so enthusiastically with the British.’

Lillian Alvarez took a gulp of her whisky, and she said, ‘That really woke me up, so I said, wow, that’s a real surprise, it would be incredible, but don’t I need a visa or something? And he said no, US citizens don’t need a visa, and he will email me the ticket a little later. So, I asked him how long would I be staying, you know, I had to know what and how much to pack. But right then, he didn’t answer me, he just said there’s something else he needs me to do. So I said, sure, and he said, I should go to his office, and find a book. He told me where the book was on his shelf, and he told me where to look in the book, because there is a memory card, and I should take the card . . .’

‘What kind of book?’ asked Bones Boshigo.

‘ On Numbers and Games . It’s the classic by John Horton Conway . . .’ She saw that they didn’t have the faintest idea what she was talking about. ‘The famous British mathematician? He’s one of David’s – Professor Adair’s – heroes, it’s about game theory. The book, I mean. The memory card was stuck to the first page of the First Part, which is really the second part . . . Look, it’s one of those mathematical inside jokes that he loves.’

‘OK. So he said you must go fetch the card . . .’

‘Yes. He asked me to go early, before anyone else arrived at the office. And that I shouldn’t tell anybody about his call, or the memory card, he’ll explain later, but it was about his security work, and discretion is the better part of valour. He apologised again, and thanked me, and said he would call again later that morning. And then he rang off.’

‘Did he call you again?’

‘Yes, at . . .’ She suddenly remembered she could give the exact time, took out her phone again, and consulted the call register. ‘At seven minutes past ten.’

‘Yesterday morning?’

‘Yes.’

‘UK time?’

‘Yes.’

‘From the same number?’

‘Yes.’

‘OK, so after that first call, what happened?’

‘I set the alarm for six o’clock, and tried to go to sleep again, which wasn’t easy. I was pretty excited . . .’

‘And not worried?’

‘No, not at all. I mean, you know . . . I was getting this trip for free to a cool place, and it was helping this man I respect so very much with something very important and . . . well, interesting, you know? It was only later that I thought it was a little bit strange that he didn’t say anything about where I was going to stay, or how long the trip would be . . . He’s such an organised man, so very methodical . . .’

‘And then you went to his office?’

‘At seven sharp.’

‘How did you get in?’

‘I have a key.’

‘And you found the book?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the memory card?’

‘Yes. It was right where he said it would be.’

‘Could you describe the card?’

‘Well, you know, it was one of those SD cards, sixty-four gigabytes. Verbatim, blue and purple. Not the micro-SD. The regular size.’

‘What was on the card?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘You didn’t look?’

‘No!’

‘And what did you do with it?’

‘I put it in my purse.’

‘And you kept it there all the time?’

‘Yes. Until this morning. The purse was in this bag . . .’ She pointed at the handbag that lay between her thigh and the armrest of the chair. ‘I thought it would be safe. I always keep the bag with me. Always. And then the asshole stole it this morning.’

He smiled at the word. ‘Did anybody see you at Adair’s office?’

‘Not that I know of. Seven is early for the department.’

‘And you went home?’

‘Yes.’

‘And he called again, just after ten?’

‘Yes. But before that, I received an email with the electronic ticket for the flight.’

‘From his usual email?’

‘No, it was from a Morris guy, which was kind of strange, but then I asked him and he said, don’t worry, it was just his security name.’

‘Paul Morris Fifteen at Gmail?’

‘Something like that. I can check . . .’

‘No, that’s fine. So you asked him this on the second call?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did he sound?’

‘More together, I think.’

‘What else did you talk about?’

‘He said he would make a deposit for me, to pay for my accommodation in Cape Town, and asked me if I could do the hotel booking myself. And he said, if I wanted to, I could stay for the week, he’ll deposit one thousand five hundred pounds into my account, which should cover a good hotel, and some spending money. Then he said my flight would arrive in Cape Town just before eight o’clock in the morning, and that when I got off the plane, I had to switch on my phone and check that it was working on the local networks, and send an email to the address from which the ticket was sent, the Gmail address. Just to say that I had arrived. He said this was very important, and that I should then take a cab to the V&A Waterfront directly, not go to the hotel first. And when I got to the Waterfront, I should put on something bright red, like a jacket or something, and find the amphitheatre, and he described it to me, he said there was a stage, and I should go and wait at the foot of the stairs leading up to the stage. And I shouldn’t talk to anybody, just wait, a guy will come and meet me, and ask me for the memory card, and I should give it to him. But only if he specifically asks for the card. And then I could go to the hotel and have a nice little holiday.’