‘So what you’re telling me is that these VPNs are used by all sorts of people, and not just people who want to look at Bad Stuff on the internet. And you can pretend you’re anywhere in the world and no one really knows where you are?’
‘Yeah, that’s right. But the code I read from their ransomware looked very familiar. They could have bought it off the dark web. You can buy anything there.’ He broke off again. I guessed he had found some very unsavoury things there. ‘But what I’m sayin’ is that it wasn’t very good ransomware. I could do better in my sleep if I wanted to. It’s just that …’
He looked around nervously – for fear of being overheard, it seemed – then he leant forward as though preparing to impart secrets of state. ‘Corinna, you know what he had on his computer?’
I shrugged and widened my eyes in encouragement.
He shook his head quickly, as if unable to believe it himself. Dramatic pause, snare-drum percussion … ‘McAfee!’
As usually happened when talking to a member of Nerds Inc., I was possessed by the feeling of not being on the same page, or even in the same universe. ‘And this would be bad?’
He snorted, like a horse being offered an inferior band of oats. ‘Corinna, McAfee comes free with Adobe updates. Every time there’s a new update, you have to remember to unclick the McAfee box or it downloads automatically. Anyway, McAfee is better than nothing at all, but trying to stop a malware attack with that is like –’ he waved his arms expansively ‘– it’s like trying to stop a bullet with a box of tissues. When we set up Del’s system way back, we put proper antivirus software on it. So when that met McAfee, which had downloaded along with an update, the two programs spent all their time fighting each other and the malware got through. So I deleted them both and put Kaspersky on instead.’
‘And that’s better?’ I enquired. Memory presented me with an unwelcome calling card. I vaguely recalled seeing the McAfee logo on my own computer. Had I unclicked the box when last Adobe had presented me with yet another unsought upgrade? I feared I had not. So would my software be fighting McAfee and letting down my cybernetic defences too? I would need to check this later. In the meantime, we were meandering off-topic. ‘Gully, does Azerbaijan mean anything to you?’
He shook his head. ‘Never heard of him. Sorry.’
‘All right. What about Kilmarnock? Can you tell me anything about that?’
It was as if his eyes had clouded over. Amazingly, he reached out his grimy hand and grabbed my forearm. ‘Corinna, you don’t want anything to do with those guys. Get away, and stay away. They’re evil.’
‘Well, yes, I gathered as much. Gully, are you aware that our apartment building has been repeatedly broken into? We’ve had far too many burglaries for one lifetime already, and that was just this week.’
He picked up his Coke, imbibed a goodly gulp thereof, and shook his head. ‘Really? Sorry, I’ve been busy. I must have missed that. You okay?’
‘We seem to have got the better of them so far,’ I assured him. ‘But I’m wondering if the bad guys of Kilmarnock might be responsible.’
He thought about this while draining the rest of his Coke. ‘Jeez, I hope not, Corinna. But I don’t think it’s likely.’
‘Why not?’
‘’Cos you got nothing they’re interested in. They want guns and drugs. You haven’t got those, have you?’
‘No. Well, thanks, Gully. You’ve been very helpful.’
He grinned again, rose, and wandered out of the cafe. My coffee arrived, courtesy of Anastasia, and I inhaled the bitter scent of concentrated Greek insomnia. This is totally different from Turkish coffee, according to the Pandamus family, and I would have to take their word for it. If you couldn’t stand a spoon up in it, it wasn’t real coffee. I had heard that Athens was powered by this stuff. My loathsome ex-husband James had gone to Athens once to stitch up one of his repellent business deals. Or so he thought. When he arrived home, a broken shell of a man, he described in faltering tones a nightmare of ouzo, super-strength coffee, appallingly late dinners and loud parties. ‘Corinna, they never sleep!’ he had whimpered to me afterwards. ‘It was awful!’
I wished I had been there. It sounded like fun, and when I looked over the deal that my idiot husband had signed it was surprisingly merciful. It was clear what had happened. They had worn down his resistance over six frenetic days of partying, and when he was so demoralised he would have signed his own execution warrant, they had let him off with absurd leniency. Presumably because he was Australian. Greeks really do like us. I am grateful for this, as always. The hardy folks of Athens might like it industrial-strength, but I like my coffee medium. Drunk at midday, you could reasonably expect to get to sleep after another ten hours or so. And I needed to be alert. I was enjoying what I hoped would be an andante weekend, after the allegro prestissimo of the week from hell I had just endured, but I needed answers.
What a lot I hadn’t been learning about the internet today. I mentally revised this. Actually, I had, now I came to review my talk with Gully. As far as he knew, the ransomware culprits had probably been Russians, though he couldn’t be sure. And whoever had put it on Del’s system wasn’t particularly good at cyberwarfare. This could well fit with my slowly coalescing image of a dangerous criminal gang from Azerbaijan, living in Kilmarnock and terrorising people. I still had no idea what they wanted with me, but that was a question for the future.
My present now included a wonderful open sandwich, supplied by Kyria Anastasia. There was proper grilled lamb (the Pandamus family will not have gyros on the premises) done to a turn, with lemon, olive oil, tomato, lettuce, yoghurt, cucumber, pepper and the inevitable oregano. It was magnificent. I had already had a big breakfast, but somehow my stomach had forgotten it under the influence of this masterpiece of culinary art. I ate at my leisure, and wondered if anyone else from Insula would join me. I was doing well so far.
As if in response to my mental stage-managing, the door swung open and the actors all trooped in. To my surprise, Kylie and Gossamer were with them. I waved, and they waved back, but they went to sit at the big table up the back of the cafe. No problem there. If they didn’t want to talk to me I could easily overhear them. And they were actors, so I would probably learn less about them if we spoke face to face. If they had the slightest doubt about me and my motives, they could adopt any persona they liked and leave me none the wiser. So I left them to their gossip, and for quite a while I pretended that I had no interest in their talk. Snippets did arrive my way, however. The actors were fascinated to learn that Kylie and Goss had actually been on TV, and were duly sympathetic (without excessive shows of emotion) that their TV careers had not taken off subsequently. And at one moment I heard one of the girls (Gossamer, I thought, though not with any conviction) exclaiming, ‘It looks like English, but it’s really hard!’ Luke agreed that this was indeed the case. I hoped he wasn’t teasing her.
When I had finished my souvlaki, I accepted a small bowl of yoghurt and honey from Anastasia. Not because I was hungry. On the contrary, I was stuffed. But I really wanted to continue to listen to the actors unobserved. And the snippets I heard were about Prospero and Caliban and their motivations.