‘Like I said, I met this guy in LA, at a Siggraph conference,’ Andrew revealed. ‘Way before he messed up. He had a hell of an attitude.’
‘What do you mean?’ Cadel asked.
‘Oh … chip on his shoulder. He was mad at everyone. Went on and on about CG people not getting the kind of respect they deserve.’ An ironic smile flickered across Andrew’s face, as if he were enjoying a private joke that didn’t happen to be terribly funny. ‘It was a big rant,’ he declared. ‘I pretty much tuned out.’
Cadel bit his lip, thinking hard. It was a long shot. A very long shot. There was nothing to indicate that Raimo Zapp the Third had anything to do with the CCTV malware.
On the other hand, he might have connections. Useful, antisocial connections.
‘Would you be able to contact him?’ Cadel inquired. ‘Do you know where he lives?
‘No, but I could ask around.’ Andrew was extracting Cadel’s disc from the disc drive. ‘You want me to do that?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Raimo isn’t a shy sort of bloke,’ Andrew offered, handing the disc back to Cadel. ‘Someone’s bound to know where he is.’
‘If you find out, can you tell me?’
‘Sure.’ Andrew pulled out his phone. ‘What’s your number?’
Cadel hesitated. After reviewing the various possibilities, he realised that Reggie’s phone was probably safer than Saul’s, or Fiona’s, or Judith’s. So it was Reggie’s number that Andrew finally entered into his electronic phone book.
Then Cadel decided to finish up; he had spotted Andrew’s knee bouncing impatiently, and was wondering if they had out-stayed their welcome.
‘Okay – well – I guess that’s all,’ Cadel said. ‘Unless you can think of any other names?’
‘Sorry.’ Andrew rose. ‘Not many sociopaths in this business.’
Though his delivery was bland, the gleam in his eye suggested that he was once again enjoying a private joke. But he became more serious as he accompanied his three guests back to the reception area. There, after bidding them good luck, he divulged one final piece of information.
‘I just remembered something Raimo told me,’ he observed. ‘Guy kept saying he was such a genius that his latest idea would take the world by storm. Which is the second reason I didn’t take him too seriously.’
Cadel frowned. ‘The first being …?’
‘His name.’
‘Oh. Right.’
‘Course, he didn’t go round wearing a fake beard, but … well, you can’t judge a book by its cover,’ Andrew concluded, with a crooked smile and a sideways glance.
Then he pressed a button on the wall, whereupon the steel-barred gate outside slowly began to slide open.
ELEVEN
When Cadel arrived at the Sydney Children’s Hospital, he wasn’t wearing a fake beard, or high heels. He had decided that such a disguise would be useless, since Prosper’s surveillance team was probably keeping a very close eye on Sonja’s visitors. While pillows and ski-gloves might have been enough to fool a computer program, they wouldn’t fool anyone watching real-time footage from the hospital’s CCTV network.
Besides, he didn’t want to appear in public looking like a complete idiot.
So he showed up at Ward C3 in his usual t-shirt and corduroys, with a big box of liquorice allsorts. Sonja loved liquorice allsorts. She loved their geometric patterns, and the fact that they were so easy to chew. Cadel figured that, even if she couldn’t eat them, they would be something cheerful for her to look at.
He also brought Fiona, Reggie and Angus with him. Saul had promised to meet them later; he was busy chasing down some kind of lead in Reggie’s car, so the two bodyguards had been forced to squeeze into Fiona’s little hatchback. On Cadel’s advice, they had decided not to take Saul’s borrowed Corolla anywhere near the hospital cameras – just in case someone happened to spot Cadel climbing out of the back seat. ‘That car’s supposed to be secure,’ Cadel had said. ‘But it won’t be, once our hacker gets hold of its number plate.’ He knew that there would be cameras positioned around the car park, and at many of the drop-off points. That was why, from the moment they swept through the hospital’s entrance gates, he felt as if he were being watched.
This feeling strengthened as he approached the front door. It was like approaching a hidden nest of snipers. Things weren’t so bad once he had crossed the threshold; he couldn’t see much surveillance equipment inside. Nevertheless, he remained jumpy and anxious, despite the presence of his bodyguards.
By the time he reached the third floor, he was drenched in sweat.
Ward C3 South had been set aside for teenagers. Opposite the nurses’ station, three large noticeboards were covered in snapshots of young people, some wearing bandages and hospital gowns, some decked out in party dresses or hiking gear. Gazing at these photographs, Cadel saw braces and pimples and nose-studs. He saw shiny balloons and stuffed animals. It was a vibrant display that somehow made the grey carpet and pus-yellow walls look even sadder.
Sonja’s room was at one end of a long, rather dingy corridor. Fiona obtained directions from a nurse, then led the way past glimpses of wheeled beds and drawn curtains and flickering television screens. As he drew nearer to their destination, Cadel found it more and more difficult to breathe. His hands were shaking and his mouth was dry. He felt sick in the stomach.
‘We’ll wait here,’ Reggie suddenly announced. He nodded at Angus, who had already attracted one or two curious stares; the two men then stationed themselves on either side of Sonja’s door, standing at ease with their hands clasped in front of them.
Cadel hesitated.
‘Go on, sweetie,’ Fiona urged, giving him a nudge. ‘Why don’t you go in, and I’ll get myself a cup of coffee before I say hello.’
‘But –’
‘You’re the one she’ll be wanting to see.’
Cadel wasn’t so sure about that. Sonja was no fool. She must have realised that her injuries were somehow related to his presence in her life – unless, of course, she hadn’t been well enough to think about anything, lately.
When he stumbled into her room, clutching the liquorice allsorts, his heart was pounding like a jackhammer.
The room contained two beds, one of which was empty. The other stood near the window, surrounded by various trolleys and cabinets. Sonja’s old Dynavox machine was sitting on a wheeled bedside table, and her splinted leg was wedged into a kind of trap or cage, designed (no doubt) to keep it absolutely still. Beneath the bandage wrapped around her forehead, her eyes were sleepy and bruised-looking.
But they brightened when she saw Cadel.
‘Gnnn!’ she squawked, groping for her Dynavox. The sight of her thin, knotted, straining fingers was too much for him. They were so brittle. So vulnerable.
His lips began to shake. He had to blink back tears. Seeing this, Sonja became distressed. Her muscles reacted as they usually did, tightening uncontrollably. Her back arched. Her neck twisted. One arm slammed against the Dynavox.
Cadel realised that he was going to have to start talking, no matter how big the lump in his throat might be. Otherwise Sonja would thrash about until she hurt herself.
‘I’m sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Naa.’ Her eyebrows snapped together.
‘I’ve brought you some of these.’ He held up the allsorts, sniffing hard. The important thing, he knew, was to get her calmed down. ‘Is there somewhere special I should put them? You haven’t got a lot of space.’
‘Eeh.’ Sonja flung out a hand, leaning towards him, and he recognised the gesture. She was reaching for his gift. So he placed it on the bed beside her, before leaning down to kiss her, very carefully, on the cheek.
‘I guess Judith must have told you what happened,’ he croaked. ‘About my phone being hijacked, and sending a signal through to your Bluetooth connection.’ He cast around for a chair. ‘I didn’t even know my Bluetooth was on. Someone sabotaged my phone, som
ewhere along the line. Dot, probably.’
Having located a vinyl-upholstered seat in one corner, he positioned it closer to the bed – while Sonja struggled to spell out a message.
‘The-Wife,’ her Dynavox finally pronounced, in its toneless, electronic voice. Cadel raised his eyebrows.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘You heard about that, did you?’
‘Trace,’ was her painfully slow response. Then: ‘Chatroom.’
‘No.’ He understood exactly what she was talking about. ‘Whoever hacked The Wife hasn’t shown up again. The police have been monitoring his Command and Control access point, but it’s useless, I reckon. He won’t come back.’ In an effort to reassure her, he added, ‘I’ll make sure it’s all cleaned up in there before you go home. Don’t worry. I’ll rip out the cameras, if I have to.’
He didn’t say anything about the hospital cameras, though they were certainly preying on his mind. So too was the fact that, without a doubt, there were online systems governing every aspect of the hospital’s management: shifts, admissions, medical records, waiting lists. When it came to computerised environments, hospitals were just as heavily wired as banks, or airports, or smart homes.
The whole idea made his skin crawl. He felt as if there were mines buried under the floor, and peep-holes drilled through the light fittings.
‘Not-your-fault,’ Sonja spelled out doggedly. ‘Stop-worrying-now.’
Cadel swallowed. ‘I was the target,’ he muttered, staring at his feet. ‘Not you. If I hadn’t been there, right at that moment –’
‘Ho-hum. Boring.’ Though she might have been out of practice, Sonja was still able to communicate well enough with her Dynavox. As Cadel glanced up in surprise, she went on. ‘Not-always-about-you-you-you.’
Stung, he began to protest. ‘I’m not saying that. I’m just saying –’
‘Prosper-hates-me-more,’ she interrupted, stabbing at the keyboard in front of her. ‘So-how-will-you-stop-him?’
It was hard to judge her mood. The Dynavox droned out its messages, and her face was being yanked about by uncooperative muscles. But Cadel thought that he could see a glint in her eye; he sensed that she was being deliberately provocative. To lighten the atmosphere, perhaps? To vent her frustration? He couldn’t tell.
All he could do was take a deep breath, and hope that no one was eavesdropping on their quiet little exchange.
‘The Wife got hacked by a program that was written for another house,’ he said softly, picking up Sonja’s TV remote. After adjusting the volume on her television set (which was tuned to a quiz show), he leaned towards her until he was jammed against the steel bars that had been raised to stop her from rolling out of bed. ‘Did Judith tell you? When I had a look at the malware, I found all kinds of applications for specific Bluetooth appliances – stuff that Judith doesn’t have. We might be able to track down the original house if we can identify someone who’s bought all those products.’
‘America,’ was Sonja’s contribution. And Cadel gave a nod.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised,’ he said. Then, shielding his mouth with one hand for extra privacy, he added, ‘America’s a big place, but there can’t be that many people in the world with a floor-washing robot and a computerised trigger lock connecting their guns to their alarm system. You never know – the manufacturers might have customer records.’
‘Insurance.’ It was clear that Sonja’s head injury hadn’t affected her reasoning skills. ‘All-those-things-insured-with-one-company-somewhere? Check-coverage?’
‘I’m not chasing it up myself,’ Cadel admitted, in response to these awkwardly phrased suggestions. ‘Sid’s in charge – I’m not allowed online, right now.’
Sonja’s snort was no accident. It was a voluntary noise meant to convey her disgust. When she rolled her eyes, Cadel felt constrained to defend his foster father. ‘Saul’s just trying to be careful,’ he murmured. ‘It’s not like I’m on the sidelines, you know. I just have to look as if I am, in case somebody’s watching.’
Sonja blinked. Her gaze flicked around the room, apparently searching for evidence of a bug or a hidden camera. Then her hand moved across the Dynavox, until it was hovering over the letter ‘V’. But she didn’t strike the keyboard. Instead she glanced inquiringly at Cadel, who gave a nod.
‘Yeah,’ he confirmed, under his breath. ‘I think it might be Dr Vee.’ Aware of how hard it was for Sonja to ask questions, he proceeded to give her the answers she needed, without prompting. ‘If he’s in America, though, he’s got someone working for him over here. Because “Bev” made a local call. In fact tomorrow I’ll be part of a wardriver team of Richard’s students that’s going to be scanning for signature IDs in –’
‘Grah!’ she yelped, so violently that he stopped in mid-sentence. At first he assumed that her squeal must have been a cry of pain, until he saw the anxious look in her eyes. She stabbed again and again at the Dynavox, but for some reason she kept missing it. Her fingers never made contact with the keyboard.
‘What?’ he said. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Dnn! Dnn!’
‘Should I call the nurse? Do you need something? Does it hurt somewhere?’
‘Dnn!’
Still she jabbed at the Dynavox, without actually touching it.
‘Here,’ he offered, reaching across the bed. ‘I’ll do it myself. Blink twice if I’m on the right letter. “A”. No? “B” …’
‘NAAH!’
Her whole body lunged towards him, knocking against the steel frame that separated them. The impact was so unexpected that he jerked back, almost toppling off his chair.
‘What the –?’ He was stunned. But as he watched her flailing around, swatting at the machine in front of her, something clicked inside his head. ‘Oh my God,’ he spluttered. ‘The Dynavox!’
The Dynavox had been at Clearview House. The Dynavox was a computer.
The Dynavox could very well have been bugged – or worse.
‘I’ll take it,’ he said, jumping up. When he seized the device, Sonja seemed to relax a little. She fell back onto her pillows with a heartfelt sigh, though her hands kept twitching.
Cadel headed for the door, which he yanked open. Outside, Reggie and Angus were still at their posts. Fiona had parked herself at a more discreet distance, several metres away. Her husband stood beside her, holding a spray of silk flowers.
Judith had warned them that real flowers weren’t allowed inside the hospital, because pollen was bad for people with allergies.
‘What are you doing?’ Cadel demanded. ‘Why don’t you come in?’
‘Um …’ Saul looked to his wife for help. Before she could say anything, however, Cadel thrust the Dynavox at Reggie – who received it with a startled grunt.
‘We have to get rid of this,’ said Cadel. ‘It could be a problem.’ He turned to address Saul once again. ‘The Dynavox was at Clearview House, remember? Somebody should make sure it hasn’t been tampered with.’
‘Christ.’ The detective’s confused expression slowly yielded to one of alarm. ‘I never thought …’
‘But it’s Sonja’s,’ Fiona protested, as Reggie clumsily scooped up a dangling power cable. ‘How’s she going to communicate without her Dynavox?’
‘I don’t know,’ Cadel replied, and Saul said, ‘We’ll think of something. Just … just take it down to the car, Reg, will you?’
‘Which car?’ asked Reggie. ‘Yours or hers?’
Cadel didn’t wait around to hear Saul’s response. Instead he plunged back into Sonja’s room, letting the door swing shut behind him. He was angry with himself for being such an idiot. Of course the Dynavox could have been bugged. Why hadn’t it crossed his mind before?
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, upon reaching Sonja’s bedside. ‘That was stupid. I can’t believe it never occurred to me. Thank God someone’s using their brain.’ Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear. ‘If only I knew sign language,’ he hissed. ‘This is insane. It’s like being back at
the Axis Institute.’
‘Sonja? Hello?’ Fiona’s cautious greeting interrupted him. She had sidled into the room, bearing Saul’s bunch of silk flowers. ‘Are you all right, sweetie? Are you going to be all right without your Dynavox?’
‘Of course she isn’t!’ Cadel snapped. Though he knew he was being unfair, he couldn’t seem to moderate his tone. ‘We have to get her something else! We have to call Judith, right now!’
‘Well … okay. We can do that.’ If Fiona was taken aback, she didn’t show it. She regarded him with sympathy, and her voice was gentle. ‘I just wanted to make sure that Sonja doesn’t have a problem with this decision you’ve made –’
‘It wasn’t my decision, it was her decision!’ Cadel flushed, infuriated by this bald-faced assumption that he was trying to boss people around. ‘She’s the one who thought of it, not me!’
‘Oh.’
‘Maybe they have a spare Dynavox here at the hospital,’ he continued. ‘Or something like a Dynavox. There must be a speech therapy unit – couldn’t we find out? Couldn’t we ask a nurse?’
Fiona frowned. She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s pretty late,’ she said. ‘It’s after seven. I doubt if any of the clinics or therapists will be available until tomorrow –’
‘But we can ask, can’t we?’ he exclaimed, at which point Saul entered the room.
‘Ask what?’ The detective didn’t sound as if he wanted to deal with yet another crisis. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘The problem is that Sonja needs to talk!’ Cadel cried. ‘So we need to ask someone if there’s a spare Dynavox around here!’ Seeing his foster parents exchange a pensive glance, he lost patience with them. ‘I’ll do it,’ he barked, before hurrying towards the exit.