Notorious - John Jones (read after .TXT) 📗

Jane Fielding?” he asked them. “I need to see her”. The last student finally managed to run from the theatre, and the sound of Kenneth’s footsteps were amplified again. He walked out into the hallway, and saw a crowd gathered around the main entrance.

 

The screams became louder as a few of them saw him approaching, but they eventually made it through and ran in all directions. He walked back out and saw Gareth looking around him, confused. He was still stood near the car. Kenneth approached, and the student looked quite satisfied to see him.

“Ah, sir, what’s going on? Is there a fire? I thought I would mind your car while you went and saw…who was it? Anyway…”

“Where is Jane Fielding?” he asked. “I need to see her”. Gareth shook his head.

“I don’t know, sir. Well, could you check my essay now?” he asked, proffering it again. “I think she’s this way,” he said, walking away. Gareth looked at him, then down at the essay. He sighed. His shoulders slumped, and he walked in the opposite direction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

42

 

 

‘Drum ‘n bass’ blasted from Tom’s car, and could be heard all around the houses. He had both doors open, sat in the driving seat outside his house, sipping from a carton of orange, one foot on the pavement. Anthony was sitting in the passenger seat, looking at his new sound system.

“Top isn’t it?” said Tom. “DAB, bluetooth. Just listen to how clear that is?” Anthony nodded upwards in a ‘what?’ gesture. He then frowned, and reached forward and lowered the volume.

“The whole neighbourhood can hear that,” he said. “I don’t know why you need so many radio stations, anyway. You probably won’t listen to most of them”.

“No need to be jealous. It’s not as if you can’t afford one”. He looked at his chronograph watch.

“I suppose we’d better be going,” he said, “We’ll be late for class,” They closed both doors, and Tom started the engine. They were soon approaching campus. He switched down the indicator to turn left, the clicking sound loud in the confines of the vehicle. As he straightened the car, he had to brake quickly as there was a stationary vehicle in front of him, and one in front of that.

“What’s this?” he said, more to himself. The vehicles in front slowly moved forward and turned left into a side street. Tom saw that a policeman was standing in the middle of the road. He was gesturing for him to follow the others. He saw that beyond the man, parked at odd angles on a wide paving area in front of halls of residence, were two police cars.

There were also many students wandering around, looking puzzled.

“I wonder what happened here?” Tom said, turning left. He looked at Anthony who was staring straight ahead, his face approaching ashen.

“What’s up with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost”. Anthony swallowed, trying to hide his concern. Surely not, he thought. Surely this cannot be because of the letter. Are the police searching the university for Tom? Should I really jump to such a conclusion and get out of the car and go across to the policeman and point Tom out? No, he thought that the police would, after deciding whether or not to act upon the letter, investigate it to see if Ryvak was being infiltrated, and should they find any nefarious activity, would perhaps be knocking on Tom’s door for him to answer questions.

 

Although Anthony knew how much cyber crime was taken seriously, it wouldn’t have surprised him should there be any helicopters hovering above, and were tracking Tom’s car, watching him drive straight into a spider’s trap. Maybe they’ve already singled Tom out, and in the course of their investigations have discovered Anthony’s dealings with the bank as well. They would know that they had a class. All they had to do was check and see that they would both be in there at the same time.

“Relax,” said Tom, “it’s only my girlfriend and Malcolm that knows how we obtain our money. I know how paranoid you can be. They haven’t come for our ‘loans’”. Anthony frowned. It was as though he had read his mind.

“How do you know?”. Tom saw that a police cordon had blocked another road.

“Great, I’m trapped in a maze,” he said, driving onwards.

“Well, I can’t be tracked,” he said. “Alright, it’s possible to find out what we’re up to, but only by the most determined and knowledgeable computer minds. Not even they would even begin to even try and attempt it, though, and d’you know why?”. He waited for an answer.

“Er…no,”

“They don’t know it’s happening. How can you investigate a crime, when you don’t know that a crime is being committed? Ok, should somebody find out, then it would take their best techno boffin to find me, and if that happens…”, He turned right and straightened the car. He was caught in a slow moving line, each trying to find somewhere to park.

“...If that happens then I’ll hold my hands up,” He held his hands up in a gesture of:

‘You got me’, and put them back on the steering wheel.

“..and say fair enough, I was caught by a better man. I’ll come quietly. How likely is that to happen though?”. There were a few moments silence, the warmth of the car harbouring its own solitude. Anthony looked out of the passenger window.

“I suppose it’s the same with Ryvak,” he said. “How likely are they to find you?” Tom shook his head.

“Absolutely no chance,” he said, matter of factly. “Well, not if they get the same guy, I suppose, but again, very unlikely. They first have to suspect that somebody is infiltrating them and fucking with their finances. They can check all they like, but they won’t find anything. It was simply geared to look like they were losing money, and now since they’ve announced that they are closing, the money that I re-routed in to the charities gets rebounded to the donator with a little note, saying something like: ‘We thank you for your investment, and your support for Ryvak. Your funds are no longer required’. I was tempted to add: ‘Now get fucked’, but absolute secrecy is everything in the world of espionage, so I couldn’t, but my involvement has stopped now. That message will last for about a month, giving the building enough time to have no activity whatsoever, from Ryvak anyway.

 

When that deletes itself, there should be no money at all going in, and even if it did, it wouldn’t make any difference. The place will still be closed, and no animals will be tortured. So when that message deletes, not even that feller could trace me. It’s nothing to do with me anymore. I’ll be completely undetectable. I’m not even suspected, though. They thought they were losing money, so would not have supposed that a crime was being committed.” He smiled, and looked at the car ahead.

“Come on, move, class’ll be starting soon”. Anthony sighed as quietly as he could, and stared at the dashboard. He was jolted alert by the ringing of Tom’s mobile phone.

“It’s Malcolm,” he said, picking it up.

“Hi, Malcolm, How’s it going?”

“Tom, I need you to do me a favour. I need your hacking skills to…”

“Hold on, what? What was that? It’s a bad line...listen, don’t use the ‘h’ word on the phone, not with so many police around”.

“What? Police?”

“Yes. Something’s happened at uni by the looks of things. I’ll have to meet you if there’s anything you wish to discuss”.

“Er…Oh!. Come round to the house. I’ll be there.”. Tom nodded, and ended the call. “That was Malcolm,” he said, as if Anthony didn’t know. “He wants me to use my hacking skills on something.” Anthony saw that his face was content, as if there was nothing much that would make him happier.

“I think class is off today,” he said. “What do you want to do? I’m going to see Malcolm”. Anthony thought for a few moments.

“I want to see if class is still on, and find out what’s happened here”. Tom nodded.

Anthony took off his seat belt and opened the door. He got out.

“See you later,” he said, receiving a brief wave. He closed the door, wandering away. Tom saw that there was a car behind him. The one in front was not making much progress. There was an expanse of grass to his left, bordered by intermittent trees. He mounted the kerb, leaving deep tyre tracks in the grass and maneuvered his way back onto another road, away from campus.

 

After around ten minutes, he was knocking on the front door of Malcolm’s parent’s house. Malcolm opened the door and let him in. They were soon sitting in the front room, Tom reclining on the armchair, Malcolm on the sofa.

“So what’s happened at uni then? You mentioned police,” Malcolm asked. Tom nodded. “Yes. There was a bit of commotion going on, roads blocked off, and well, I don’t know what’s happened. So what is it you want me to do?”. Malcolm stood up and crossed to the mantle-piece where he retrieved a piece of paper which he handed to Tom. He sat down. Tom saw that it read: ‘Curio Enchantment’. It was followed by two telephone numbers and an email address.

“Curio Enchantment? Isn’t he the bloke that found your..? Anthony’s mentioned him”. “I need his address. He’s not in the phonebook under that name. Using those, can you find it for me?”. Tom nodded.

“Easily,” he said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

43

 

 

Curio paced authoritatively up and down the small area before a rectangle arrangement of orange plastic chairs. In an upstairs meeting room of an Earlestown library, there was a monthly meeting of: ‘The truth society for paranormal facts’. Curio had received an email from them to invite him to be a guest speaker at their meeting, and he replied yes instantly, and had endured an hour and a half’s journey to get there on bus and train.

 

They gave themselves an exaggerated name, as they were a group that simply met to discuss the supernatural, to talk about happenings that have occurred to them that could not easily be explained, and to discuss the many various subjects related to it. They appointed ‘Vice-chairmen’ and ‘presidents’, all seemingly to make themselves feel rather superior, when in fact, it was simply a group of like-minded individuals, discussing the unknown. The youngest of them was 62, the oldest 89. There were 16 in the group, but they were always open to new members. The email had used the words: ‘special guest’, and Curio had felt jubilant. He was to discuss his psychic detection technique and his beliefs, and up to now had been talking for just over an hour. The faces that looked up at him were all attentive, listening and nodding as he spoke.

 

Nobody had asked questions. Nobody had looked as though they disagreed. Everything he had said did not require questioning. Not by them. Not by the believer. Believers didn’t need proof. Yet, evidence however would always be leapt upon like finding money in a street. ‘Here is evidence of my belief. See, I told you I was right’. Such evidence, though, could always present more questions. For the truth society for paranormal facts, a lot of evidence came through experiences, through the telling of incidents that could not possibly be lies, or misunderstandings to them. They didn’t need proof, because they already knew the truth, as did Curio. Doubtful questions were strangers around the borders of their knowledge of their own facts.

 

With his hands behind his back, and a stern expression, Curio pivoted on his heels and slowly made his way back along the front of the class.

“…so, yes. The pyramids are pointers to where we may have come from, or to another world entirely”. This produced a spate of nodding. He paused for effect, and reached the same point again, where he swivelled and continued.

“What about freewill? If we can predict future