***
Will had rung Robin on the very day that Rupert and Marian were at Threadneedle Street giving their presentation about the new encrypted security operating system.
They had met an immediate air of hostility when they arrived in the conference room at the Bank of England, largely engendered, they suspected, by the Head of Security whose account had been tampered with. Rupert and Marian were ranged against a formidable team from the Bank, headed by the Deputy Governor, and a team of computer experts as well as the Head of Security.
"I want to know," demanded Alistair Vaughan, almost before they were seated, "how the hell you managed to interfere with my personal account."
"That's what we're here to show you," replied Rupert. "Because what we have been able to do, others less honest will also be able to do in time, when they discover the inherent weaknesses in the present banking security systems."
"I should also warn you," continued Vaughan, "that the possibility of criminal proceedings has not been ruled out either."
"I don't think it will ever come to that," said a supremely confident Rupert Bland. "If we had any criminal intent, we wouldn't be here now, we'd be lining our pockets at your expense and you wouldn't have a clue what was going on."
"I tend to agree," said the Deputy Governor, an older and wiser man. "Why don't we just let Mr. Bland have his say about our present operating system and what he proposes to replace it?"
A rather red-faced Vaughan sat down.
"Before you get too comfortable, gentlemen, I would like to demonstrate these to you." Rupert held up the two debit cards. "Perhaps we could visit the ATM machine in the lift lobby, so that I can demonstrate the first weakness we discovered in the banking community's security system. One of these cards allows me to take cash from the account of the machine's last user, with knowing his or her pin number, while the other allows me to take cash direct from the bank's treasury."
They trooped outside, where Rupert invited Vaughan to use his card to withdraw cash from his own account. Rupert then immediately withdrew a further sum himself from the same account using one of the adapted cards. He handed the notes to Vaughan, who then verified that the money had, in fact, been taken from his account. They stood aside to let another employee use the machine, after which Rupert demonstrated the second card.
"You will see," he said, "that this card by-passes all the machine prompts, and immediately invites me to select from the on-screen menu." He inserted the card, selected to withdraw ten pounds, which he then handed to the Deputy Governor.
"This is from your own reserves," announced Rupert, "and not from any individual's account."
When they had returned to the conference room, Rupert explained that it had seemed to them self-evident that if it was possible to directly access a bank's mainframe computer simply by inserting a card into a remotely sited 'hole in the wall', then it should equally be possible to access the computer via the Internet from a remotely sited computer. He explained in some detail how this had been achieved, and demonstrated the methodology using one of the bank's computers and his own laptop.
"I hope I have managed to demonstrate to you just how vulnerable your present system really is," he concluded after half an hour or so. "If you have any questions, let me deal with them now, before I demonstrate a possible replacement programme which, you will see, is considerably more robust against possible unauthorised access."
In all, the presentation and demonstrations, with the question and answer session, took nearly two hours, before the Deputy Governor of the Bank of England brought the proceedings to a close.
"Mr. Bland," he said, "you and your able assistant have given us a great deal to think about, and I dare say, a great deal to worry about. It seems that for years we have been wrongly confident about the absolute infallibility of our present security arrangements, which you have ably demonstrated to be inherently weak. I think I speak for everyone here when I say how very impressed we have been by the new development that you have shown us. We shall need to urgently consider what next to do, and to consult with others in the industry before reaching a final conclusion, but it seems to me that we really have no option but to adopt your new system, or something very like it."
"The new programme can, of course, be adapted to suit the needs of individual banks," explained Rupert, "but the basic operating system, which we have been careful to register, will form the foundation of any modifications of that sort."
They nodded wisely.
"Perhaps I could conclude by assuring you all", Rupert turned to Alistair Vaughan, "and especially you, sir, that we have kept the most meticulous records of all the transactions which we have undertaken during the development of this system and in the trials we conducted of your existing system to pin-point its weaknesses. Those records are here and available for your inspection if you wish, although I have to say that in almost every case, we carried out the trials using our own personal bank accounts. Where we used the direct access card, we withdrew ten pounds from five different banks, and donated that to charity. It was hardly possible, I'm sure you will agree, to walk into the banks and hand it back to them over the counter!"
There was a ripple of laughter, as they nodded understandingly.
"And since we no longer need these cards," concluded Rupert, "you are most welcome to keep them, and the programme which gives computer access to your mainframe." He handed them to the Deputy Governor. "The new programme can, of course, also be made available, subject to satisfactory negotiations about the price."
Vaughan needed time to satisfy himself that the Bank was not about to become the victim of a major fraud. His old Scotland Yard antennae were at work, and he was highly suspicious of what was going on, and in particular of Robin Hood and his new organisation. He took the bull by the horns, and rang Computer Solutions. He was eventually put through to Robin Hood himself, a pleasant sounding young man, and obviously well educated.
"I hope you don't mind me ringing you direct," began Paul Vaughan, "but we are still considering your colleagues' excellent presentation to us, and there were a couple of questions I wanted to ask."
"By all means," replied Robin. "How can I help?"
"This may seem an odd question," said Vaughan, "but I wondered if you had ever come across a man called Jim Farlow?"
"As a matter of fact, I have," replied Robin, who was surprised by the question and wondered what was coming next. "We were at Oxford together," he added.
"Did he ever work for your company?" asked Vaughan.
"No, he didn't," replied Robin Hood. "But I'd like to know why you ask and what all this is leading to."
"It's just that he used to work for us, that's all," replied Vaughan. "Quite good at his job, I'm told, but we had to sack him when he admitted helping himself to funds which didn't belong to him."
"I had heard," said Robin. "At one time, I was rather keen that he should join us, as a matter of fact, but by then he was already working in Threadneedle Street, and he decided he wanted to stay with a big employer and enjoy a regular salary, rather than risk a new venture like mine."
"Did he say why?" asked Vaughan.
"Something to do with having an elderly mother to provide for, as I recall," said Robin.
"Ah, yes," said Vaughan. "He did mention that. Well, thanks for your help. I'm sure someone will be in touch again soon about your proposals."
"We shall look forward to hearing from you," replied Robin.
"By the way," asked Vaughan, "how's your Aunt Gladys?"
Robin was quite taken aback by this question.
"She died two days ago, as it happens," replied Robin.
"I'm really sorry to hear that." Vaughan sounded genuinely shocked. "I had no idea."
"But how did you know about her in the first place, may I ask?" demanded Robin.
"I gather she was quite a wealthy old lady," explained Paul Vaughan, "and that a couple of million pounds mysteriously appeared in her account quite recently, a
nd then disappeared again. The security chap at her bank consulted me about it, that's how I heard."
"Sounds to me," said Robin boldly, "like yet another example of the lack of security in the present banking system."
"Quite so," agreed Vaughan. "Well, thanks again - we'll be in touch one way or the other."
Vaughan immediately rang Jan Bergen, Head of Security at the UK Head Office of the Interbank (Nederlandsche) Group.
"I gather," he announced to Bergen, "that your old lady Ms. Gladys Hood, with the mysterious account, has died."
"Bad news travels fast, doesn't it!" exclaimed Bergen. "How the hell did you hear about that?"
"How I heard doesn't matter, really, but I wondered if her nephew, the one with power of attorney over her estate, had been in touch yet."
"He has, apparently," said Bergen. "The lady's account manager told me only this morning."
"Why would he do that, then?" asked Vaughan.
"He knew of my involvement over the two million quid," replied Bergen. "Apparently, the bulk of Ms. Hood's considerable estate has been left to her younger nephew, Mr. Hood's son."
"Name of Robin?" asked Vaughan.
"Right again! How did you know that?" asked an incredulous Jan Bergen.
"Never mind," replied Vaughan. "What's the score on the estate then?"
"Well, you may remember me telling you that we had agreed to pay interest on the mysterious deposit while it was with us," said Bergen.
"I remember," replied Vaughan. "So what?"
"So apparently, the young Robin Hood has asked that the interest should be paid to the old lady's hospice, rather than to him as part of her estate," explained Bergen. "And they thought I ought to know."
"Thanks for telling me," said Vaughan, now more then ever puzzled by what was happening.
He sat deep in thought. An odd thing to do, he mused, but hardly a crime. Unless it was the man's conscience getting the better of him, of course. He still had no evidence whatsoever of any crime having been committed by anyone, except Farlow, and even then there appeared to be no direct link with his activities and the mysterious Mr. Robin Hood.
On an impulse, he rang Bill Denning at Global Crossroads. No more unexplained service interruptions. Another blank.
It suddenly occurred to Paul Vaughan that he had no idea how much money they were taking about in relation to Gladys Hood's estate. He rang Bergen again.
"Sorry to bother you," he began, "but I have just one more question, if you don't mind. Strictly speaking, I suppose you shouldn't tell me, but it would help enormously if you could give me a rough idea how much the old lady left, and what the interest was that is now going to her former hospice."
"You're right, I shouldn't tell you! But since you are who you are and what you are, I'll find out and ring you back," promised Bergen.
It didn't take him long.
"It seems the interest which Mr. Robin Hood has asked us to pay to the Phyllis Tuckwell Hospice in Farnham, where the old lady spent her last few weeks, amounts to some fifty grand," announced Jan Bergen. "Which sounds a lot, except that her total estate, most of which said Robin Hood inherits, wasn't far short of two million quid."
Vaughan thanked him, and hung up. He almost wished he hadn't asked. Nothing made any sense any more, and he was no nearer to understanding what had been happening than he had been when all this first started. Except that their precious security system had been shot to blazes.
The Bank of England entered into negotiations with Computer Solutions three days later.