Bernhard Schlink - Self's Punishment

I imagined 100,000 rhesus monkeys at large in the plant, and grinned.

Firner gave a pained smile. ‘Yes, well, the whole thing does have its comic aspects. The mix-up with the tennis court bookings caused a lot of amusement too. Now we have to check every fax one last time before it’s sent out.’

‘How do you know it wasn’t just a typo?’

‘The secretary who wrote the message gave a printout of it as usual to the responsible party to have it proofed and initialled. The printout contains the correct number. So the fax was tampered with while it was in the queue on the hard-drive waiting to be sent. We’ve also examined the other cases in the dossier and can discount errors of programming or data gathering.’

‘Good, I can read about that in the file. Tell me something about the circle of suspects.’

‘We approached that in a conventional way. Among the employees who have right of access or access possibilities we eliminated those who’ve proven their worth here for more than five years. As the first incident occurred seven months ago, we can also discount all those who were only employed after that time. In some cases we could reconstruct what happened the day the system was meddled with; for example, the day of the fax message. Those absent that day are scored off. Then we examined virtually all input on a selection of terminals over a specific period of time and dug up nothing. And finally,’ he smiled smarmily, ‘we can rule out the directors.’

‘How many does that leave?’ I asked.

‘A good hundred.’

‘Then I’ve got years of work. And what about outsider hackers? You read about stuff like that.’

‘We were able to eliminate that with the help of the telecom office. You speak of years – we can see it’s not an easy case. And yet time is pressing. The whole thing isn’t just a nuisance: with all the business and production secrets we have in the computer, it’s dangerous. It’s as though, in the midst of battle-’ Firner is a reserve officer.

‘Forget the battles,’ I interrupted. ‘When would you like the first report?’

‘I’d like you to keep me constantly up to date. You can avail yourself of the men from security, from the computer centre and the personnel department, call on their time as you like. I needn’t tell you that we ask for utmost discretion. Frau Buchendorff, is Herr Self ’s ID ready?’ he asked over the intercom.

She entered the room and handed Firner a piece of plastic the size of a credit card.

Firner came round the desk. ‘We took a colour photo of you as you entered the administration building and scanned it in straight away,’ he said proudly. ‘With this ID you can come and go in the complex as you please.’

He attached the card with its plastic clip to my lapel.

It was just like getting a medal. I almost felt obliged to click my heels.

I spent the evening hunched over the dossier. A tough nut to crack. I tried to recognize a structure in the cases, a pattern to the incursions into the system. The culprit, or culprits, had managed to worm their way into payroll. For months they’d transferred 500 marks too much to the executive assistants, among them Frau Buchendorff, had doubled the vacation benefits of the low-wage groups, and deleted all salary account numbers beginning with a 13. They had meddled with intra-company communication, channelled confidential messages at the directors’ level to the press department, and suppressed the automatic reminders of employees’ anniversaries of service that were distributed to department heads at the beginning of the month. The programme for tennis court allocation and reservation confirmed all requests for the Friday most in demand so that one Friday in May, 108 players assembled on the sixteen courts. On top of that there was the rhesus monkey story. I could understand Firner’s pained smile. The damages, around five million, could be handled by an enterprise as large as the RCW. But whoever had done it was able to saunter through the company’s management and business information system at will.

It was getting dark. I turned on the light, switched it off and on a couple of times, but, although it was binary, no deeper revelation about electronic data processing came to me. I pondered whether any of my friends understood computers, and noticed how old I was. There was an ornithologist, a surgeon, a chess grandmaster, the odd legal eagle or two, all gentlemen of advanced years to whom the computer was, as for me, a terra incognita. I reflected on what sort of person it is who can work with, and likes, computers, and about the perpetrator of my case – that it was a single perpetrator was becoming pretty clear.

Belated schoolboy’s tricks? A gambler, a puzzle-lover, a joker, pulling the leg of the RCW in grand style? Or a blackmailer, a cool-headed type, effortlessly showing that he was capable of bigger coups? Or a political statement? The public would react negatively if this measure of chaos came to light with a business that handled highly toxic material. But no. The political activist would have thought out different incidents. And the blackmailer could long since have struck.

I shut the window. The wind had changed.

I wanted to talk to Danckelmann, the head of Works security first thing in the morning. Then on to the files of the hundred suspects in the personnel office. Although I was hardly hopeful that the trickster I had in mind would be recognizable from his personnel files. The thought of having to examine one hundred suspects by the book filled me with utter horror. I hoped that word of my hiring would get around and provoke some incidents through which the circle of suspects could be narrowed.

It wasn’t a great case. It only struck me now that Korten hadn’t even asked whether I wanted to take it on. And that I hadn’t told him I’d think it over first.

The cat was scratching at the balcony door. I opened up and Turbo laid a mouse at my feet. I thanked him, and went to bed.

With my special ID I easily found a parking place for my old Opel at the Works. A young security guard took me to his boss.

It was written all over Danckelmann’s face that he was unhappy about not being a real policeman, let alone a proper secret serviceman. It’s the same with all Works security people. Before I could even start asking my questions he told me that the reason he’d left the army was because it was too wishywashy for him.

‘I was impressed by your report,’ I said. ‘You imply there could be hassle from communists and ecologists?’

‘It’s hard to get your hands on the guys. But if you put two and two together, you know which way the wind is blowing. I have to tell you that I don’t quite understand why they brought you in from outside. We’d have managed to sort it out ourselves.’

His assistant entered the room. Thomas, when he was introduced to me, seemed competent, intelligent, and efficient. I understood why Danckelmann could hold sway as head of security. ‘Have you anything to add to the report, Herr Thomas?’

‘You should know that we’re not simply going to leave the field open for you. No one is better suited than us to catch the perpetrator.’

‘And how do you intend to do that?’

‘I don’t have the least intention of telling you that, Herr Self.’

‘Yes, you do. Don’t force me to point out the details of my assignment and the powers conferred on me.’ You have to get formal with people like that.

Thomas would have remained resolute. But Danckelmann interrupted. ‘It’s okay, Heinz. Firner called this morning and told us to offer unconditional cooperation.’