Chapter 37
It was past midday when Kitwaela entered to give his account. The small meeting room was completely filled. At the head of the table sat Ian, flanked by Iveta and Marsha. Kitwaele greeted Abdi, Pieter and Vince Smith. Some of the people he did not recognize. The eyes of Marsha were swollen and her normally tanned complexion was pale and faded. In expectation everyone looked at him silently. He decided not to beat about the bush.
“Vladimir was dead drunk. Which is strange. He stumbled, hit his head at the border of the pool, fell into the water and drowned. That is it.”
“Another accident,” Pieter remarked. “Not exactly a welcoming place here. Why is it strange? Do we know the time of death?” He lapsed into his bad habit asking several questions at the same time and than not knowing anymore what the first one was.
“Strange. Well...,” Dr. Kitwaela looked at Ian who hardly noticeable shook his head. Only Pieter seemed to have seen in. “Not strange, I mean, considering the large amount of alcohol. According to my measurements, the time of death must have been around four or five o'clock. Actually it must have been not long before you have found him. When you dragged him out of the water, he had been dead for about an hour. There was nothing you could do.”
With difficulty Pieter and some early risers had pulled out Vladimir's heavy body. They had taken turns in the desperate attempts to revive him, but in vain.
“Any connection with the murder on Jonathan?” asked one of the men whom he did not recognize. He looked at Abdi, who nodded that he could continue.
“At first sight not. Or we are dealing with someone who is a master in disguising murder. On Jonathan's body we were not able to find any signs of violence neither. If it had not been for the bullet shell than we would have concluded that it had been a pitiful accident. And you are?”
“My apologies, doctor. The name is Bramaud. Philippe Bramaud. I am the new head of security and from now on I will lead personally the investigation from within the walls of Abacus,” Bramaud answered exaggerating the emphasis on personally.
Abdi looked at him sternly upon which he quickly added: “in close collaboration with the official instances, in casu inspector Abdi.”
Never Pieter had seen Ian to be this nervous, but the fast drumming of his short thick fingers showed his state of mind. He exclaimed: “we must know what is going on here. For ten years the only crime that happened here was a baboon stealing the cap of a carpenter and now, now that we finally can go full steam with the project, we are faced with one accident after the other. What is going on here?”
He silenced but nobody felt inclined to add something. So Ian continued, in a much calmer, narrative tone.
“Yesterday evening I had a meeting with Vladimir and Juergen. At length we have discussed the situation in Abacus. Especially Vince's report on information theft was investigated in detail. Bottom line is that a fair amount of information is leaking from Abacus into the outside world. It is like a tunnel. The tunnel is opened from this side and from the other side. Each time a different evasion technique is being applied. But one thing is sure, there is help from inside. Vladimir had his suspicions, he had developed a theory, just like you this morning Pieter, and he was going to come back to us with hard evidence.”
“Rather a strange coincidence, don't you think?” Abdi interrupted, “who was present at that meeting last night?”
“It was a closed meeting. Vladimir, Juergen, Iveta and Marsha. And myself.”
Abdi turned to Vince: “can you tell us in simple words what is the essence of your report?”
Vince answered a bit uneasily, “but you know that, Mr. Abdi. You have received my report together with Ian.”
“I know that. But nobody else around the table does. I think it is useful that all of us are aware of what is at stake.”
Vince scraped his throat. “Our forensics showed that from different computers attempts were launched to break into the crucial systems. The nature of the breaches led to the conclusion that, one, the person or persons involved had a sophisticated knowledge of hacking techniques and secondly that some of the attempts were launched from computers that belonged to, euh, to you, Ian.”
A murmur travelled the room.
“But also the one from Vladimir and Juergen.”
Abdi continued: “and do you have a clue what Vladimir's theory could have been?”
“Unfortunately no, this morning I was supposed to have a briefing with him. Marsha had put it in my agenda. The only thing that he confined to me is that he had asked some hackers to write for him some counter hacking tools, kind of stealth sensors. Those would attach themselves to the information that is leaking and thus leading us to the other side of the tunnel and identity of the receiver. A kind of a tracer or reversed hacking. But I lack the details. Someone should have a close look at Vladimir's personal computer.”
Marscha made a note and confirmed: “I'll make sure that you get Vladimir's computer, Vince.”
Bramaud interrupted her: “no, send it to me. I am leading the investigation.”
Ian waved his hand impatiently: “make sure that the computer gets pulled apart, Philippe, and Vince has a number of specialists. Use them. We are a team, no need for a cavalier seul.”
Ian looked at Pieter, hesitated to tell something but just stood up: “I think you all know that to do. I want you all to be back tonight at eight. From now on this is the war room. We will have each evening meetings here, till we have solved all of this.”
Pieter leapt in front of Ian as they left the room and leaned towards him: “good that you did not ask for my theory.”
Ian whispered back: “but someone in that room is now very worried. So you need to be extra careful. From now on you are my bait, my decoy-duck.”
“Why do I have a déjà vue?” Pieter wondered.
His telephone rang, it was Francesca.
“Pieter, I have good news. Your place is ready. You can move in immediately.”
“Nice, that is fast. And indeed good news. I started to become tired of that room. Of course I will have to miss all the action in the hotel.”
“Vince told me about it. Vladimir was a good guy. It is very weird that he was that drunk, certainly days before his scheduled transplantation. He was so proud of himself.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don't know? I guess not a lot of people know. When I was touring around with him the last time he was over here, he started to loosen up a bit and told me. Apparently his liver was completely gone, scattered to pieces because of excessive alcohol abuse like a real Russian. Here he would undergo an experimental transplantation. But drinking and fat food were for him strictly forbidden.”
Surprised Pieter asked: “and who knew about this?”
“I don't think too many people. His close co-workers like Ian and Marsha. And of course the Doctors of team Kitwaela. Afterwards he was a bit embarrassed that he had told me and specifically asked me to be very discrete about it. Well, I just happen to have this gift that people thrust me with things.” She sounded pleased with herself.
Now Pieter understood Kitwaela's reaction, but not the one from Ian. It was obvious that Ian had taken over the lead from Philippe and Vince. In his own smart yet sly way.
Abdi tapped on his shoulder: “I think we should continue with our investigation, don't you agree?”
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