The Slim Hardy Mystery Series 4-6 by Jack Benton

Author:Jack Benton [Benton, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AMMFA Publishing

33

What might Eloise—or Lauren, as she was calling herself—be doing working a part-time job at Greenway?

Despite his dwindling resources, Paignton was not so far he couldn’t afford the bus fare, even if public transport made him nervous. He headed there the next morning, after a cold and fitful sleep on the upper floor of the abandoned house. Near the bus station, he located an isolated phone box and called Don.

‘Slim? Is that you? You don’t sound too good.’

After a couple of nights sleeping rough, Slim had picked up a cold, but he shrugged it off.

‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Did you have any luck with that computer?’

‘I did. It wasn’t hard to crack. I managed to break into it using the IP address, then used a nifty little program to view a remembered password. Got a pen? Though you probably won’t need it. Agatha. Capital A. Not the most inventive. However, it’s not quite as simple as that. I couldn’t log in without the user ID. You’ll need to find who uses that computer and what their log-in ID is. I imagine it’ll be a staff number, something like that.’

‘Right.’

‘Now, I’m not going to ask what you’re doing, because, believe it or not, I actually trust you. However, once you’re in, be careful. Clean up after yourself. Delete your browser history, that kind of thing. It won’t stop a forensics team, but you don’t want a casual user noticing anything amiss. At the very least they’ll change their password and put us right back to the start.’

‘I understand. Thanks, Don.’

‘Take care, Slim.’

Slim hung up. Next he called Ben Holland, but got no answer. He decided against leaving a message for fear of being traced.

Eloise’s address was for a block of flats not far from Paignton Station, but there was no convenient place from which her fourth-floor flat could be observed. Slim had no option but to confront her, so he headed upstairs and knocked on her door.

No answer.

He tried again, calling out her name but addressing her as Lauren. He was about to try one last time when a door opened a little way along and an elderly woman leaned out.

‘Can you give it a rest?’

‘I’m sorry. Are you Lauren Trebuchet’s neighbour? Do you know when she’ll be back?’

‘Yes, and no, I don’t. She’s never back ’til late most nights. Nine, ten o’clock. Now buzz off or I’ll call the police.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m leaving now.’

The woman went back inside and slammed her door. Slim had hoped he might ask a few questions, but the rattle of a chain slipping back into place was followed by an increase in the TV’s volume.

Back on the street, he found another phone box and tried Ben once more, but again received no answer. With his frustration growing, his cold bringing his mood down, and his frugal spending limiting his dinner to an out-of-date bread roll from the reduced basket of a bakery about to close, he headed back to the bus station.

Through the glass façade,

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