Corruption's Price: A Spanish Deceit (16 page)

Even when all three had returned to Malasaña there had still been no discussion of what had happened until Emilia mentioned it when Davide was in his study. There had been no way this side of hell that she was ever going to let Emilia know that her big, bold initiative had produced the dampest of squibs. Yet the truth, namely that she and Davide had literally
slept
together, was amusing. Having spent so long simultaneously trying to get him to get her into his bed and resisting, he had placed her in his bed without her knowing or a word being spoken. Crazy.

She smiled inwardly. Having finally read that message on her phone on Thursday evening, Caterina had discovered it was not from her aunt but from Davide, sent via his study in the
piso
. This was a pretty roundabout way to communicate, even though there was Emilia to consider.

Although sent two days earlier she read the message again with pleasure: "Was a surprise to find you in (on) the same bed. Undressing you was kind of disappointing. That door is always open for you (not Emilia, not Inma). Would be nice for both of us to be conscious simultaneously one day???
Besos
."

Caterina had not responded on Thursday, deliberately deciding, nice as the message was, she would let him roast in uncertainty, though it had taken all her will power not to say or do something sleeping in her own room proved tormenting.

When they headed for bed on the following Friday night she had gone initially to her own room. But Caterina knew she could not constrain herself to remain there. Later she'd tiptoed round to his bedroom and let herself in. Hmmm. It had not been quite as expected. Why should she be surprised?

She sat up with a start. With Davide apparently conquered, at least for the moment, there was that other little problem to face, the one she'd mentioned to no one. This now needed her attention. Should she continue to luxuriate here or should she act?

Caterina turned to inspect Davide. He was still dead to the world. This was not surprising given that they had not allowed each other to sleep until well after three.

Her mind made up, she climbed out of bed carefully before making her way back to her own bathroom. Showered and clean, she took her laptop to the kitchen and made coffee. That complete she booted up the laptop and considered what to do next.

Saturday: Malasaña

Caterina contemplated her screen. It displayed what she suspected. It wasn't what she had meant to occur. She knew she should have acted but her natural curiosity about anything technological had won as usual. She was ashamed of herself, almost hearing her mother scolding from on high.

She played back in her mind what had happened on Friday. Ana had shown Márquez into the conference room. Emilia had offered coffee and refreshments. Márquez had seen the smartphone charging and had asked if she might charge her smartphone. Caterina had agreed, disconnecting her own smartphone and plugging in Márquez's just as Felipe arrived and started the meeting.

What nobody else knew was that, moments after plugging in Marta's smartphone, Caterina's laptop had asked her if she wanted to back up the connected device. Focused on listening to Felipe, she had automatically confirmed the action without further consideration.

Seconds later she had seen her laptop software taking a backup copy of the connected device. She had dithered about what to do. To cancel the task would distract her from paying attention to Felipe because it would involve acting to halt the backup processes. This was more complex than it ought to be, as she knew from experience with her own smartphone.

She took the easy option of letting the backup run through to completion. Afterwards she could have deleted the backup. But she hadn't.

Now her laptop had a full copy of whatever was on Márquez's smartphone, including presumably contact lists, email, SMS' or Whatsapps, games and anything else. Even music, books, movies and possibly photos. She felt her neck turning an uncomfortable red. This could be like peeping into someone else's private life. It felt wrong. It was wrong.

"Why are you looking so embarrassed?" came Emilia's cheery voice from behind her. "Downloading porn or something equally awful? How was Davide?"

Before Caterina could formulate a coherent answer to any of these questions, Emilia helped herself to the rest of the coffee and peered over Caterina's shoulder at the laptop screen.

"That doesn't look interesting, just a backup copy of your smartphone ... but you don't have a Note. So what's that?"

Caterina didn't know what to say. She felt like a thief. This was accompanied by a deepening unease. The only good aspect was Emilia seemed to have forgotten her question about Davide.

"What's the time stamp? 1205 yesterday. I don't understand. Oh yes I do. That was in the Márquez meeting when she asked to recharge her phone. You took a copy?" Emilia looked incredulous.

Caterina sat mute before stuttering, "I didn't mean to. My laptop asked and I reflexively hit 'yes'. We must both use the same backup software and, as she didn't switch off her smartphone before charging, the backup would be complete. It wasn't intentional. I promise you."

"Who cares about that? Much more interesting is what's in there. Have you looked yet?"

"No. I was just trying to decide what to do and feeling as guilty as hell."

"As I said, who cares? The deed is done. Let's dig!"

Reluctantly, Caterina let herself be led. She started by trying to manipulate the file structure. This proved harder than expected as well as unrevealing in what it showed.

"What's the problem?" demanded Emilia.

"Just looking at file structures is like trying to understand a pear tree by looking at only its fruit. I think we need an Android simulator and restore the backup to this if we're to make progress. I'm still hesitant. Should we be doing this? I didn't mean to capture it."

"What the hell? We have the data. Let's look. We can treat it as a learning exercise. Maybe it'll be relevant to ORS. After all, she did visit ORS on behalf of a client. Are you able to find a suitable simulator?"

"Not sure, but probably. Make us some more coffee. While you're at it, I'll do some digging around. It could take time."

Emilia turned, without enthusiasm, to start on the coffee. However much she wanted instant results, from coffee or computer, she also knew Caterina. If she said it would take time, it would. But Caterina almost always delivered on what she said she could, eventually.

Her mind wandered. No Davide? Where did Caterina sleep last night? It was back to the previous evenings. Again, Caterina left her no wiser. Whether it was about Rome or Davide or now this smartphone copy, always she, Emilia, was the one to be left out. It bugged her. It was as if Caterina was becoming sneaky.

Her phone rang. It was Alberto. Where would she like to go this evening? What would she like to do? Emilia knew the answers, but these were not necessarily those that Alberto was expecting and certainly could not be said to him on the phone. What should she suggest?

"Why not come here for a drink around eight and then decide?"

Alberto accepted. This done, Emilia wondered whether and how she could despatch Caterina and Davide beforehand so that the
piso
was hers – to do as she was desperate to do with Alberto. Knowing her luck and those two, probably she hadn't a maiden's prayer. She refocused on the coffee.

Saturday: Madrid

Davide finished making the salad. He had sliced the
jamón
and
chorizo
and removed the head of the
Torta del Casar
. The smell of the latter was of sheep's cheese, rich and strong. He hoped it would not be too much for his Australian guests' stomachs. He was convinced that something with fortitude was needed as a diversion. He opened a red wine, nothing special but tough enough to complement the cheese, and carried everything into the dining room, the terrace being too damp to eat on with any pleasure today.

"Lunch, even if it is a late one, is ready," he called.

Caterina and Emilia seated themselves, looking a touch sheepish (they complement the
Torta,
Davide thought dryly).

"Okay, take me through this once again."

Caterina and Emilia started speaking at the same time. Both stopped. Caterina pointed to Emilia to continue.

"The long and short of it is that Caterina took a copy of Márquez's smartphone when she visited ORS yesterday. Caterina says she didn't mean to do it and it was hardly Caterina's fault that Márquez failed to switch off her phone before recharging, which would've prevented any copying occurring during the recharging."

"Forget the self-justifications and recriminations for the moment," admonished Davide. "What I want to understand is what you've done and what might be the implications before we decide what to do."

"I'm partly to blame," confessed Emilia, failing to obey Davide. "When I saw that Caterina had the copy on her laptop I encouraged her to have a look at what was there. At first this didn't work. While I made coffee, and you continued snoring, Caterina established an Android simulator within a virtual machine and recreated a working copy of what Márquez would see and do when she uses her smartphone. Of course, not everything functions as it would do on a real phone. But we can see what apps she has and uses on the smartphone, plus her music, movies, photos and data. And there's a lot."

"A lot of what?"

"A lot of data and photos."

"You look uncomfortable, Caterina. What is it?"

"You remember that Ana and I were looking for information about Márquez? Well, we printed off some pictures of her and her husband. The latter, putting it simply, is blob-like, looks sedentary sixtyish with accompanying paunch and is largely without hair, except for some wisps inelegantly drawn across the top of his head."

"Why is what he looks like relevant to this conversation?"

"To quote yourself, 'patience', Davide. I'll get there. What I'm saying is that he's physically distinctive, not elegant. In the photos on the phone those are ones clearly of Márquez, showing off an overly-full figure in various stages of dress and undress. Plus there are photos of a man who's clearly not her husband, also in similar states of dress and undress. And there are photos of them jointly, if you see what I mean."

"You mean that the smartphone has selfies of Márquez who has a lover who's not her husband?"

Emilia nodded. Caterina squirmed.

"Are there any indications of dates? Are these from some time in the distant past?"

"The most recent are dated within the last month. There are lots of them, mostly of her rather than of him ... Presumably he took these because the backgrounds of the rooms match."

"You've been looking at these more than thoroughly. Being
voyeuses
?"

"No, Davide. It wasn't like that," denied Emilia, "or at least not from Caterina, who constantly wished to shut the sequences. It was me who insisted. I'm sorry if you're disappointed. I thought they might reveal something."

"Like what? No, no; don't answer. I think you would've already told me if your prurience" (at this Caterina shuddered at the clarity of his distaste) "had produced anything. Is that all?"

"No. This is where it becomes more difficult, and relevant to ORS, we think."

Davide signalled her to keep going. Emilia suggested Caterina take over. Failing to achieve this, she restarted.

"Among the data files is what looks to us like a primitive accounting system. No, it's not a conventional double entry bookkeeping one that accountants like me are used to. Instead it's based around groups of three spreadsheets that seem connected in a way we don't understand. The key point, however, is that we recognised a number of names within the spreadsheets. Looking deeper, there are a number of large transaction amounts, ones that seem to be associated with the three main ORS clients."

"Do I understand you correctly? You think you've found some form of system, in the loosest sense of the word, which demonstrates a relationship to ORS clients?"

"Exactly. But we don't understand these groupings of three, which appear to have so aspects in common but not everything."

"I wonder. Could it be?" mused Davide. "Have you heard of Italian accounting?"

"Yes, Pacioli invented double-entry book-keeping in the fourteenth century, or was it the fifteenth? Is that what you mean?" suggested Emilia.

"Not exactly. Traditionally, Italian businesses keep three sets of accounting books. One is for the tax man, another for management. The third is for the owners. Deliberately they each show quite different results. The first, almost invariably losses or minimal profits, the second shows how the business is running, while the third is the true picture."

"Two sets are not uncommon back home amongst the better organised of the criminal fraternity. I've never heard of three sets. Are you suggesting that she may have different reasons to keep similar information together?"

"Precisely. Hmmm. I need to think, and to think also about what to do. Shall we eat? Oh, you've already been helping yourselves. Good. I'd better try to catch up. Let's have a siesta before reconvening to make some decisions."