The Dead Speak Ill Of The Living (The Dead Speak Paranormal Mysteries Book 1) (32 page)

  
“Well, I don’t think they send visuals.”

   
Dee looked at Nazir, “what makes you say that?”

  
“I don’t think there’s a lens here, it looks all aural.”

  
“So someone was listening in.”

  
“Yes. Although the signal can’t have gone far, whoever was listening must be
close…” and Nazir turned to stare through a wall.

  
“What?” Dee asked.

  
“I wonder if there’s something dodgy about your wireless hub or your router, it
could be sending data back to anywhere.”

  
“Wouldn’t the bug thingy detect it?”

  
“I don’t think it would. Shit. I’m totally out of my depth here.”

  
It was clear to Dee what was going on. “Well one thing’s for sure, we know what
they’re after.”

  
Pohl sat down with a fresh coffee and said “you think they want the machine?”

  
“As much as I’d like to flatter myself and think someone went this trouble to
hear me wanking,” and for a second Dee wondered if Joe could have done this,
then buried the thought ashamed, “they have to be after the machine. Have to
be. It’s the only thing of value we have.”

  
“Unless we’re the crux of about eight murder investigations.”

  
“Shit, Pohl, you’re right, law might be on to us.”

  
“How do we proceed?” Pohl asked.

  
“Well professor,” and Nazir had a plan, “first thing to do is to check everyone
else’s houses. We’ll try mine first.”

  
“Why yours?”

  
“Because I live there.”

  
“You go, I need to make a phone call.” All eyes were now on Dee. “It’ll help,
I’ll ring Maquire and flat out ask him. He’d tell me.”

  
“He would?” Nazir said raising an eyebrow. She was fairly certain he would.

  
“Yes. Text me when you have results.”

  
“I suppose we should have deactivated the bugs somehow,” Nazir said ruefully.
“Still too new at this.”

  
“They went straight to Nazir’s house, past every drive-through and coffee
vendor, and scanned his flat in twenty careful minutes.

  
“Nothing,” Nazir smiled, “they’re not interested in me!”

  
Next was Joe’s, and they knocked on his door and answered it looking shifty.

  
“What is it?” Joe asked.

  
“You are not going to believe this,” and Nazir said it all as they went inside.

  
“Shouldn’t we be careful what we say while you scan?” the host asked.

  
“Bit late for that, shit, you’ve got one.” They found two bugs, one in the
lounge and one in the bedroom.

  
“And we’re sure they’re really bugs?”

  
“Joe, things like this don’t form out of thin air. This isn’t dust. This is the
time to be paranoid.”

  
“In that case, fuck.”

  
“Right, let’s take this haul back to Dee and host a council of war.”

  
“Good idea,” Joe said, “I’ve got a plan.”

  
Dee sat in her comfiest chair, laptop on her, well, lap, and a stiff drink to
the side of her. She liked Maquire, she did, and she wasn’t sure asking him if
his employers were spying on her might be difficult. So she had a swig of vodka
and orange, thought briefly that the people who’d hidden these bugs might
arrive angry, ignored that and pressed the number. The phone rang for ten
seconds, Dee considered putting it down, and then a harassed voice said “Hello,
this is Maquire.”

  
“Hi, it’s Dee.”

  
“Ah, hello,” and he sounded so happy, “how was Italy?”

  
“You’ll have to come round and we’ll show you our photos.”

  
“Haha, oh, you’re being serious.”

  
“Some of this group are deadly serious about their holiday snaps.”

  
“Well I’d love to come round, what sort of date did you have in mind? Actually,
I’m busy at the moment, I’ll get back to you on that.”

  
“I sort of need a five minute chat.”

  
“Sort of?”

  
“Urgent.”

  
“I thought so,” and there was the sound of a man sitting on an office chair
that should have been replaced long ago. “What is it?”

  
She swallowed, breathed in, and asked “Are you bugging us?”

  
“Sorry?”

  
“Bugging us. Listening in.”

  
“No!” he said terribly hurt, but this was soon replaced with curiosity. “What
makes you think I’m bugging you?”

  
“Nazir found bugs in my house. Three of them, I’ve just sent you pictures to
your personal email.”

  
There was tapping on a keyboard, and then Maquire said “I’ve got them, opening,
and I see them. I see…shit they do look bug like.”

  
“Police?”

  
“Nope, unless it’s something I’ve never seen, and I try to be up on everything
we do, that is nothing we use.”

  
“Thanks, I thought so…”

  
“Really?”

  
She didn’t like the hurt in his voice. “Really. But I have to ask, because we
do break the law, and the police seemed most likely.”

  
“So if it’s not us…”

  
“Exactly.”

  
“Industrial espionage or government?”

  
“That I don’t know. At least the government has rules.”

  
“Dee,” and Maquire became very serious, “the government do not have rules.
Remember that. Do not expect a fair fight.”

  
“Let’s hope it’s another pissed off batch of scientists then.”

  
“Where are they now?”

  
“In a bucket of water.”

  
“Yeah, that should do it. Shit, any idea how long they’ve been there?”

  
“None. None at all. Nazir is checking his and Joe’s, but they must be after the
machine. So a few months.”

  
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Maquire said, desperately thinking of anyone he
could call, “but I have no links.” He didn’t want to say it, but he suddenly
felt helpless, at the same time as feeling he should be a white knight to go
and save Dee. “Do you want me to come over?”

  
“No, not yet, well, for the meal and a chat, but I have a plan.”

  
“Try not to kill anyone.”

  
“I have servants to do that sort of thing for me.”

  
It didn’t take Kosar long to organise a conference call, because people tended
to pay attention to his demands, and soon everyone interested in the project
was listening. Some of them were senior, some of them were junior, many of them
weren’t in the hierarchy, all of them listened to this man.

  
Leaning back in a budget chair, looking round his small office, Kosar knew he
could have moved into something larger elsewhere in the building, with fancy
equipment and a secretary if he wanted. The backers would have paid up, the
expenses would be paid off by the government. It wasn’t as if the project was
short of funds, certainly not once the new avenue had opened up. Speaking of
which, back to work. He summoned the facts in his head and began.

  
“Thank you for being here today ladies and gentlemen, and at such short
notice.” He expected nothing less. “I bring you news today. There have been
developments.”

  
“Positive I hope?” came a voice, which the others thought was being rather
daring.

  
“Anything can be turned positive,” Kosar grinned. He’d inherited this project
because of just such an attitude. “As you know, we have been bugging the
Nettleship and le Tissier households, as well as the office of Detective
Constable Maquire for more information on the claims. I’m afraid most of these
bugs have been discovered due to the winds of fortune.”

  
“Shit,” said a voice from the box on the desk.

  
“Do not worry, we have reached the point where the bugging is no longer
necessary.”

  
“But a discovery could be embarrassing.” The voice was on the verge of naked
panic.

  
“These are not the sort of people to go to the press, and we control the
police. There will be no embarrassment.” He said it in such a tone that the
asker recoiled.

  
“We’ve reached a point?” said a hopeful voice.

  
“Yes, most definitely. I am happy to conclude, from all the data we have, from
pulling all the surveillance together, that this group of people really do have
a device that allows them to speak to the dead.”

  
Sharp intakes of breath all round. “You’re sure?”

  
“Positive.”

  
“It can’t be.”

  
“Positive.” He could do this all day if he had to.

  
“And you can prove this?” Not a challenge, more disbelief.

  
“To my satisfaction, yes. To yours, well, that will require the next step. We
will acquire the machine, and we will find out how it works. And then we will
provide you with all the data and plans you could want.” The project would
finally produce. He would be king.

  
“A shame they don’t have the plans for their machine which we could take
instead.”

  
Kosar raised an eyebrow. “I hope no one is getting worried about the sharp end
of national security.”

  
“Not at all,” came the defensive reply.

  
“Good. The machine itself and the scientist behind it will provide us with
everything we need, providing we are firm and stay the course.” Everyone knew
what that really meant.

  
Dee opened the door to find Nazir there, waving two bugs in the air at her.

  
“Yours or his?” she asked.

  
“His, I was clear.”

  
“Stop making it sounds like an STD test.”

  
“Never had one of those…”

  
“Come in and stick them in the bucket of water.” A pair of plops later, and the
bugs were submerged.

  
“Do you think that’ll work?” Joe said peering in.

  
“You build machines, do you think it’ll work?” Dee replied.

  
“Oh yes.”

  
“Good. All this talk of bugs is making me itchy.”

  
“Now who sounds like an STD test?”

  
“Shut it.”

  
Nazir didn’t. “Did you speak to Maquire?”

  
“Yes, I did, and it isn’t the police.”

  
“That’s almost a shame,” Pohl commented, “because the alternatives aren’t very
good.”

  
“I have a plan,” Joe explained.

  
“As do I, but let’s hear yours first,” and Dee graciously cleared the floor.

  
“We should ring Peters. He gave us an emergency number should the Belgians come
looking again, so we report this to him. Or find out if it is him.”

  
“Excellent idea,” Pohl added. “What was your plan Dee?”

  
“That was my plan.”

  
“Great minds think alike!” Joe exclaimed.

  
“Fools seldom differ,” Dee said, pulling her phone out. “I think this calls for
speaker phone.”

  
Soon all four were sat around the kitchen table, fresh coffee served, and Dee’s
phone was in the middle; her laptop was sat near her.

  
“Hello, this is Peter's,” came a calm voice.

  
“Peters, this is Dulcimer Nettleship.”

  
“Ah, Miss Nettleship, how are you?”

  
“Concerned.”

  
“I see,” and he remained calm, “are there Belgians in the area?”

  
“We don’t know, but we’re being bugged.”

  
“Bugged, I see,” and he didn’t change his tone at all, “what makes you think
this?”

  
“The five bugs we found at two of our houses. Can I send you a picture of
them?”

  
“Certainly,” and an email address was given. “You’ve not spotted anyone
watching you?”

  
“No, but we weren’t looking.”

  
“I see, well your email is here, so let me look… ah.” Now, finally, there was
an air of worry in his voice.

  
“What does ah mean?” Nazir asked.

  
“I recognised these bugs. They’re not Belgian. They’re MI5, you’re being bugged
by us.”

  
“That’s not good,” Joe said shrinking back.

 
“Why are you bugging us?” Dee asked accusingly.

  
“Please, don’t get me wrong, I or my team are not personally bugging you, but
someone else in MI5 is.”

  
“Who?”

  
“I don’t know. This is the situation: MI5 is cellular, with lots of different
teams pursuing goals tied together by superiors. And my team, working on the
computer you found, is hidden and secret from others, and amongst those others
is someone investigating you.”

  
“Shit,” Dee exclaimed. “So what do we do?”