Nick heard rustling and muffled voices – the secretary presumably had her hand over the receiver. Then there was a noise as if something had snapped, the voices became clear again and a man bellowed into the phone: ‘I’ll get these calls traced! This is telephone terrorism! I’ll find out what you criminals are up to, and then they’ll put you behind bars! That was my last warning, understand?’ Crash. The receiver was hung up.
Nick’s heart was hammering as if he’d run the hundred metres.
‘He thought I was threatening him.’
‘So I heard. He was certainly loud enough.’
It wasn’t hard to add two and two together. ‘I bet he’s had a few scary phone calls of late.’
‘Yes, from Emily for example,’ Victor said.
Not much was said during their shared breakfast. Each of them dwelt on their own thoughts. Nick’s revolved around the options that were left to him. He could go to Blackfriars again and hammer on Ortolan’s office door until he listened to him.
But we don’t know why Erebos hates him so much. There must be a reason.
‘Victor? You know the computer scene well, huh?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Can you explain it? In some way that would make sense?’
‘Not at all. I’m completely in the dark. I think we need to find out more about Mr Ortolan.’
When Emily arrived, earlier than expected, they still hadn’t got any further. They knew that Ortolan was a member of the Wimbledon Park Golf Club, that he sometimes organised charity dinners for UNICEF and rarely gave interviews.
Emily, who was still completely fired up by the discovery of Ortolan’s true identity, approached the search with fresh vigour. ‘Perhaps it’s not personal. Perhaps it doesn’t have anything to do with the man himself, but with the company.’ She turned the laptop to face her and entered ‘Soft Suspense’ in Google.
‘It will be a wild goose chase,’ Victor prophesied. ‘By the time you’ve churned through all the game reviews and eBay auctions, it’ll be Christmas.’
‘You’re right.’ Emily narrowed her eyes to slits. She submitted ‘Ortolan enemies’ and found a whole lot of information about Peregrine falcons that ate songbirds. ‘Damn . . . Okay then, we’ll try something else.’
The search terms ‘Soft Suspense’ and ‘victim’ mainly returned game descriptions for Peregrine, the company name together with ‘competition’ returned various pieces of economic data about the game industry.
Emily swore in an unladylike fashion. ‘It’s all double-dutch to me. If it’s a competitor who’s doing this to get rid of Soft Suspense, we’ll never figure it out.’ She brooded over the list of different games companies. ‘Perhaps the company did something wrong,’ she said, and did a new search: ‘Crime Soft Suspense’. This time the list of results wasn’t long – only four pages. The first links were about the fact that bootleg copies were a crime and that Soft Suspense had recently improved copy protection on its games. Emily kept on scrolling and clicking. She paused at a court report that was two years old.
. . . was found guilty of fraud and theft and sentenced to six years’ imprisonment. The game, which apparently incorporates revolutionary new technology, is produced by the company Soft Suspense, whose . . .
Emily clicked on the link. It was an archived story from the Independent. Nick and Emily only had to read the first lines to know that they needn’t look any further. It was right here on the screen in black and white, and worse than Nick could ever have imagined.
Games developer sentenced
After two years the court case over copyright ownership of the Elysium computer game has finally ended in a judgement. Larry McVay, owner and Managing Director of London software development company Vay Too Far, was found guilty of fraud and theft and sentenced to six years’ imprisonment. The game, which apparently incorporates revolutionary new technology, is produced by the company Soft Suspense, whose Managing Director Andrew Ortolan welcomed the judgement. ‘The game represents years of work and millions of pounds,’ said Ortolan. ‘That’s not something you can simply allow someone to steal from you.’
McVay had maintained since the beginning of the case that it was he who had programmed Elysium and that it had been stolen from him by Soft Suspense. However he was never able to produce the appropriate evidence to support his claim. He explained this with allegations of theft, bribery and tampering by Soft Suspense. Managing Director Ortolan denied all allegations. ‘We are an utterly respectable company, not a criminal organisation, and are happy that this has been recognised. This is simply someone trying to turn the tables on us without having a scrap of proof.’ McVay announced that he intended to exhaust all legal avenues, and that he ‘was not going to give up’.
Nick opened his mouth, but not a single word came out. He looked at Emily, who was pale, her lips pressed tightly together.
Victor, on the other hand, who had been reading as well, clapped his hands. ‘Well well! Emily, you have an excellent nose – like Sherlock Holmes and Philip Marlowe rolled into one. Fantastic.’
Nick’s thoughts were in chaos. Could he be sure that Larry McVay was Adrian’s father? He simply couldn’t believe that it was a coincidence.
‘What is it?’ Victor asked in astonishment. ‘You’re not saying anything. And we’ve made a giant step forward. This Larry McVay could be a piece of the puzzle. At any rate, he lost a court case against Ortolan. He’s bound to be mad at him. Perhaps he knows something about Erebos. We should talk to him.’
Nick struggled to regain his voice. ‘That’s not going to be possible. He killed himself.’
They put Victor in the picture, telling him about Adrian and his strange behaviour over the last few weeks.
‘He was constantly asking what the story was with the DVDs, and then later, when he knew that it was a game, he practically begged me to stop.’ Nick still didn’t understand why. The game at the centre of the court case hadn’t been called Erebos, it had been called Elysium. ‘Joy, Thou beauteous spark divine, Daughter of Elysium’, Nick recalled grimly.
Victor grabbed the laptop and read the article through again. ‘I think I remember the case now. The interesting thing about it was that neither party wanted to explain exactly what was so extraordinary about the game. They both held their ground, like dogs fighting over a bone. But the game still hasn’t been released.’
While Victor immersed himself further in his reading, Nick and Emily discussed what else they could do.
‘We have to talk to Adrian.’ Emily gave a deep sigh. ‘He’s an unbelievably nice guy. We had a long talk recently; he’s mature for his age, and intelligent.’
‘Let’s talk to him,’ Nick agreed. He was remembering what Adrian had said to him a while ago: that he wasn’t allowed to take the DVD, but needed to know what was on it. In some remote corner of Nick’s brain that suddenly made sense, but he couldn’t say how. He would be completely open with Adrian. Tell him everything he wanted to know, and in return . . .
‘No!’ Victor’s shout made Nick and Emily both turn around. ‘Shit, people. This is getting creepy.’
‘What is?’
‘Programmer commits suicide,’ Victor read out. ‘On the evening of 13 September, L. McVay, the proprietor of a software company, was found hanged in the attic of his house in north London. According to preliminary investigations the police are ruling out outside involvement. All indications are that McVay took his own life. The reason attributed is the judgement in a fraud trial three weeks previously, in which McVay was sentenced to serve a six-year prison term. He had been released on bail, and had announced that he would lodge an appeal.’
‘We know that already,’ Nick said.
Victor threw him a dark look. ‘And did you know Larry McVay? Did you ever meet him?’
‘No. Adrian only came to our school after he died.’
‘I thought so. Then get ready for a surprise.’ Victor turned the laptop around.
A soft cry escaped Em
ily, and she reached for Nick’s hand. ‘That’s . . . isn’t that . . .’
‘Yes,’ Nick whispered. He looked into McVay’s face, recognised the eyes, the narrow face, the small mouth. Larry McVay was the dead man.
CHAPTER 31
Victor closed the laptop. ‘Who programmed the guy into the game?’ he asked in a faint voice. ‘Whose macabre idea was that?’
No-one answered.
Nick glanced at the clock; it was just after one. Adrian was probably having lunch. After that he would have two or three more classes.
‘We have to talk to him today,’ Emily said, as if she had read Nick’s thoughts.
‘Yes. Let’s go to school, maybe we’ll catch him between classes. No, that’s no good. We can’t let anyone see us talking to him.’
‘Why not?’ Emily put in. ‘No-one’s going to be suspicious of me. I’m officially addicted to Erebos.’
That was true. They needed a place to meet where they could be sure no-one would see them together.
‘Here!’ Victor called out.
‘Too dangerous. If someone follows us here, your cover is blown, and you’re our last connection with the game. You’re the only one who can tell us what’s going on in Erebos,’ Emily pointed out.
‘Hang on. You’re still in too!’
‘But only theoretically.’ She smiled and looked at her watch. ‘In seventeen minutes, I’m supposed to go to see Mr Watson and put him in a compromising situation. But I’m not even remotely considering it, so – goodbye, Hemera.’
‘Very well,’ Victor growled. ‘But it’s pretty inconsiderate to rely only on me. What happens if the game asks me to seduce this Mr Watson? Then I’ll have to do it, I suppose, so we don’t lose our access?’
They laughed, and it broke the tension.
‘There’s still Kate, but she’s not as brilliant as you,’ Nick said. ‘You should be playing right now, by the way. Your lot are so close to Blackfriars that it could start any minute. And then we need to know about it, okay?’
Victor stuck out his bottom lip and took himself off to the computer room. ‘So I don’t get to find out what Adrian McVay has to say?’
‘Yes, you do. We’ll send you a bug-proof carrier pigeon,’ Emily said with a completely straight face. ‘Nick, where are we meeting? A cafe is too dangerous – what about a park? Somewhere in Hyde Park where we can see the surroundings?’
‘No. We could still be seen there.’ A thought flashed into Nick’s head. He wrote an address on a piece of paper for Emily. ‘It’s my brother’s place. We’ll be safe there. One hundred per cent. I’ll wait for you both at that address.’
First Becca flung her arms round his neck, then Finn. ‘Hey kid! What a nice surprise! Do you want a coffee? Are you here about the laptop?’
Nick answered both questions in the negative. ‘I need a quiet place for a . . . meeting. I’ve asked two friends here, they’ll be coming in the next hour. Is that okay?’
Finn put his arm around his shoulders, which wasn’t all that easy given that Nick was half a head taller.
‘You’re so nervous – are you in trouble? Could it be that your meeting is about something not entirely legal?’
‘What? No!’ Nick shook his head violently. ‘No. If anything, it’s the opposite. It’s complicated, but certainly not illegal.’
‘Well, in that case . . .’ Finn took him to one of the three studios. The walls were covered with photos of freshly inked tattoos on every imaginable body part. ‘Is this okay? I need the bigger studio today, and a few people are booked in with Becca for piercings.’ ‘It’s perfect.’
‘Good. Everything okay with Mum and Dad?’
‘Yes, it’s all fine.’
Finn raised his eyebrows – each of them now sporting six piercings, Nick noted – probably in amazement at his brother’s unusually monosyllabic replies. He left, but came back three minutes later with orange juice and biscuits. ‘We don’t want anyone accusing the Dunmores of being bad hosts.’
‘Thank you.’
The minutes dragged. Nick tried to distract himself by studying Finn’s gallery. A back covered in climbing roses, biceps with an alpine panorama, and knuckles with dolphins kissing.
Would Emily manage to get Adrian to come along? On the other hand, why wouldn’t he want to? He’d been so curious to find out something about the game.
There! The little bells Becca had put over the shop door were ringing now. Customers? Or Emily?
‘Hello, we’re supposed to meet Nick Dunmore here.’ Emily. Finn led her and Adrian in.
Nick couldn’t help noticing that Emily studied his brother with great interest. The somewhat shorter prototype.
‘Hello.’ She pressed a kiss on Nick’s lips that made him float for a moment. Adrian was behind her, smiling. His blond hair was standing up on one side of his head, giving him a puckish appearance.
‘The designs are fantastic,’ he said, and pointed to the walls. ‘Perhaps I’ll get one done too one day.’
Finn beamed. ‘Then come and see me, and I’ll give you a special price. And now I’ll leave you to have your secret meeting. If anyone needs anything, the kitchen is the second door on the left, and the toilet’s opposite.’ With that he left.
Adrian sat on what Nick called ‘the treatment chair’ and looked at him expectantly. ‘Emily says you need to discuss something with me? It’s about Erebos?’
Adrian certainly couldn’t be accused of beating round the bush.
‘Yes,’ Nick answered. ‘First of all: Emily and I aren’t part of it any more. So you don’t have anything to fear from us.’
‘Okay.’
Nick was finding it hard to know where to begin. He was about to open an old wound in Adrian and then poke around in it. He pushed a nonexistent strand of hair out of his eyes.
‘Erebos is somehow connected to your father.’ He saw Adrian’s eyes widen, and mentally slapped himself. Very sensitive, idiot. ‘How do you know that?’ Adrian whispered. ‘Not from me. I didn’t let on to anyone.’
Nick and Emily exchanged a look.
‘I’m surprised that you know,’ Emily said.
‘Of course I know. I just didn’t know for ages what it was.’ He smiled as if he wanted to apologise. ‘Of course I thought it was a game. My father programmed virtually nothing else. But I wasn’t sure.’
Nick didn’t understand a word. He needed to start again from the beginning. ‘You said to me recently that you weren’t allowed to accept any of the DVDs, but that you needed to know what was on them. Why?’
‘I wasn’t allowed to accept one, because Dad had forbidden me.’
Again Nick and Emily exchanged a quick look.
‘I don’t understand,’ Emily said. ‘Your father is dead.’
‘Of course.’ He looked away, studied the toes of his shoes. ‘Dad wrote to me about it. He wrote down all the details for me.’
‘What? What did he write down for you?’
Without looking up, Adrian shook his head. ‘No, you first. I want to know what sort of game Erebos is.’
Nick sighed. ‘It’s a fantastic, exciting game. Once you’ve started, it’s almost impossible to stop.’
Adrian beamed at the floor. ‘All Dad’s games were like that.’
‘But are you sure your father programmed it?’ Emily put in.
Adrian looked up, and there was mild indignation in his eyes. ‘Oh, definitely. Otherwise he would never have said that it’s his legacy.’
‘He said that?’
‘Wrote it. In the letter. That it’s his legacy, and that I should pass it on.’ Adrian looked from Nick to Emily and back again, and seemed to realise that they couldn’t make head or tail of his explanation.
‘Dad died two years ago,’ he said. ‘On the second anniversary of his death his solicitor rang me and said he had a letter for me. There was a letter from my father in the envelope, and two DVDs.’
Nick’s jaw dropped. ‘You distributed the game at our school?
’
‘Distributed? Well, I gave one DVD to someone from my class. I gave the other one to a boy I know from earlier who goes to another school. Dad didn’t want both DVDs to end up in the same place. And he also wanted me to think carefully about who I gave them to. Give it to someone whose life seems empty, was what he wrote. And promise me that you won’t look at the DVDs. They are a part of my legacy, but it’s a part that is not meant for you.’
Something inside Nick throbbed painfully. ‘And you kept to that?’
‘Of course,’ Adrian whispered. ‘After all it was the last thing I heard from my father. I hadn’t expected to see or read anything more from him . . . I was so happy!’ He blinked tears away.
And he used you.
‘Now it’s your turn again. What is the game about?’ To Nick’s relief Emily took over the explaining. ‘At a superficial level it’s about a dark world where you need to complete all sorts of tasks and survive threats. But the tasks you need to complete are not limited to the world of the game; they overlap with the real world. For example you have to . . . take photos of someone or write an assignment for someone.’
Adrian looked ecstatic. ‘That’s Elysium, Dad’s favourite project. He wanted the players to give each other presents or give each other a hand in other ways – in real life. So they’re not just sitting in front of the computer, so friendships can develop. He talked to me about it often, before . . .’ Adrian’s gaze slid away. ‘Well, before someone tried to steal it from him. Have you noticed that it’s different for every player? For example the music depends on what sort of mp3 files you’ve got on your hard drive, or what songs you listen to on YouTube. Once the game’s got to know you, it knows what sort of quests you enjoy the most, and sends you on them. Dad integrated psychological software that customises the game specifically for each player.’ You could see that Adrian was revelling in his memories.
Nick was so furious with Larry McVay that he felt like smashing the furniture to pieces.