A. N. T. I. D. O. T. E. (8 page)

‘I’ll take you for lunch as soon as I get it working,’ Rohan promised.

‘Yeah, right.’ She sat back in her seat looking distinctly unimpressed.

Ian led the way across the other end of the office to a desk which had more clutter on it than any of the others.

‘Grab two chairs. I’ll just set this up,’ he told us.

Nosh and I picked up two chairs and placed them on either side of Ian as he powered up his PC. He had a system like my mum’s, only not quite as good. Once again, I found myself wondering just why Mum needed our extensive, expensive system. Ian unlocked his desk and took out an unlabelled CD. He placed it in the CD-ROM drive of his PC under his table and then started the necessary program to play it. I pulled my chair in closer. The video started playing in a framed box in the middle of the screen. Ian pressed a couple of buttons and the video picture filled the screen. I recognized the scene immediately.

It was twilight, not quite dark yet. In spite of the
fading
light, the Shelby building was brightly illuminated by the spotlights dotted all around the immediate grounds and the building itself. There was no sound. All we could hear was the indistinct arguing of Rohan and his girlfriend at the other end of the open plan. Then, without warning, two figures ran into the picture, their backs to the closed-circuit TV camera which was recording. They skirted the side of the building before turning out of sight of the camera. Immediately another closed-circuit camera took over, filming the two people as they made their cautious way around the back of the building. One of the figures took out something which looked like a credit card from a small backpack he or she was carrying and started to fiddle with the electronic keypad beside the double doors. It was hard to make out who the figures were. So far we’d only seen their backs, or the briefest side view. Within moments, however, the double doors opened and they were inside. It was only then that the interior camera – and us – got a good look at their faces. They began to make their way up the stairs, then one of them stopped and pointed to the camera directly ahead and above them – and there the image on the screen froze. It was Mum and Uncle Robert.

And Mum was the one who pointed at the camera.

I SHOOK MY
head in disbelief. I couldn’t believe it. I was seeing it and still I couldn’t believe it.

‘That’s where it finishes,’ Ian said.

‘What software are you using to play back this video?’ I asked stonily.

Ian told me. It was the same software package my mum used.

‘Can I try something?’ I asked Ian.

‘I don’t think that would be wise …’ he began doubtfully. ‘This is the only copy we have.’

‘I’ll be careful, I promise. I know what I’m doing.’

Reluctantly he swapped seats with me. From the keyboard I restarted the clip from the beginning. I zoomed into the image of the backs of the two people as they skirted the side of the building. The image was indistinct, a bit fuzzy. I tried to enhance the image but it didn’t make any difference. It didn’t make it any clearer. I zoomed out again. The two figures then turned the corner and the recording continued seamlessly.
There
was barely a gap or a jump in the video. I played the rest in slow motion until the two figures got inside. Then I replayed the whole thing in the slowest motion possible. And still I could see nothing wrong. But Mum said it was phoney and I believed her. Somehow, someone had doctored the footage and I had to find out how. I sat back and frowned.

‘What d’you think?’ Nosh said.

I shook my head. ‘I’m not sure. I think I’ll play the whole thing frame by frame.’

‘What does that mean?’ Nosh asked me.

‘When you make a film or a recording, you have to make sure that when people walk and run or whatever, they move like real people and not jerkily like puppets. The way it works is that film cameras capture at least twenty-four images a second. That way, when the whole thing is played back at normal speed, the film makes everything look smooth and like ordinary movements. Playing something frame by frame means going through every single image individually, then you can see every little gesture or movement broken down. At least that’s how Mum explained it to me. Is that right, Ian?’

Ian shrugged and looked perplexed. ‘Something like that.’

I restarted the clip from the beginning again. Then I played each frame individually rather than letting it run normally. Beside me I could hear Ian huffing with impatience but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. This
was
my mum and uncle, not his. And then I found something.

‘Nosh, look at that,’ I said, excitedly.

‘At what?’

I used the left arrow key on the keypad to go back a few frames, then pressed the space bar to go forward slowly.

‘Did you see that?’ I asked.

‘See what?’ Nosh asked.

I played it again. From the look on Nosh’s face – and Ian’s – neither of them was the wiser.

‘Watch what happens when the two figures go round the corner. Look at their heads,’ I instructed.

And I played that segment in the slowest motion for a third time. Nosh leaned closer, his frown deepening.

‘There was something there – just for a second, and then it disappeared,’ he said, puzzled.

‘You saw it too,’ I beamed at him. ‘I knew I wasn’t imagining things.’

‘What? I didn’t see anything,’ Ian complained.

I went back to the one frame that was peculiar and froze the image. ‘Look at the heads.’

‘They’re darker and look slightly different. So what?’ Ian shrugged.

‘Their heads are darker because the two people in the video at this point are wearing hoods or masks of some kind,’ I said. ‘Look closely and you can see. If you run the clip at normal speed it’s just one frame of
twenty
-four which flash by in less than a second. That’s why you miss it. But if you go frame by frame then you can see it, but only in this one frame.’

‘Play it again,’ Ian ordered. His nose was practically against the screen now.

I did as he said and played it again.

‘Can’t you zoom in any closer than that?’ he asked.

‘I should be able to with this software but every time I try, the picture quality gets worse,’ I explained. ‘Someone has definitely doctored it, just to make sure that no one can zoom in close and see what’s really going on.’

Ian pushed my hands off the keyboard and replayed the bit where the two people came round the corner for himself.

‘D’you know, I think you’re right about that frame of the video,’ he said at last. ‘I think they
are
wearing something over their heads, and then in the next frame the backs of their heads are lighter again. The masks or hoods or whatever have been removed.’

‘Can you alter recordings like that?’ Nosh asked me, surprised.

I raised my eyebrows. ‘Are you kidding? With a computer and the right software I could put the President of America’s head on Mum’s body and vice versa. If you know what you’re doing, it’s a doddle.’

‘But one measly frame isn’t much proof that your mum and your uncle have been set up,’ Nosh said.

‘It’s a start,’ I argued. ‘And since this is a copy of what the police got, then they have the same evidence as us.’

‘Then how come they haven’t found the same thing as us?’ Nosh asked.

‘How do we know they haven’t?’ Ian suggested.

‘I’d be surprised if they’re even looking,’ I pointed out. ‘After all, they think they have genuine footage showing a real break-in. They’d just run it at normal speed. Why would they run it a frame at a time? It takes ages that way and as far as they’re concerned, there’s no point.’

‘How did you know there was something wrong with the CCTV images?’ Ian asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, only to close and open and close it again like a drowning fish. It was only when he asked the question that I remembered who he was – and who he might be. He worked for ANTIDOTE. And while he might not be the mole secretly working for Shelby’s, he might inadvertently blab and say something to the real agent. I reckoned I’d said enough, if not far too much already.

‘I just know my mum didn’t try to break into that place,’ I replied, trying to make my voice sound natural. ‘So if she didn’t, then this so-called evidence must be a fake.’

‘And you know all about computers?’ Ian questioned.

‘Not all about them,’ I denied.

‘But more than most,’ Nosh grinned.

I cast him a warning look. He got the message straight away.

‘You’re a clever boy, aren’t you?’ said Ian, making it sound like I had virulent, contagious flu or something. ‘Your uncle is always talking about how clever you are.’

‘Is he?’ What was I meant to say to that? Ian didn’t even say it like it was a compliment – more like an insult. But as he’d brought the subject up, I decided to chance my arm. ‘D’you mind if I see where my uncle works?’

‘Pardon?’

‘His desk? Can I see where he works?’ I repeated.

Ian frowned. ‘If you want. But I warn you now, the police took away most of his personal belongings early this morning. It happened before any of us arrived. A volunteer let them take away your uncle’s stuff without a warrant.’ His tone of voice showed only too clearly what he thought of the volunteer’s actions. It didn’t take a genius to imagine the full and frank discussion that followed when Ian had arrived at work and found out what had happened.

He stood up and led the way over to a cluttered desk in a corner of the open plan. I sat down in Uncle’s chair and had a look around. A PC screen, keyboard and a printer dominated most of the space on the desk. Any remaining space was filled with papers and files and folders. There was a photo of Uncle, Mum and me pinned to the wall as well as a huge, poster-sized
calendar
of the whole year. Red dots and gold stickers and green strips were scattered all over the calendar. I looked closer. There was a red dot over my birthday of August 30th and another one over Mum’s birthday of February 8th. I didn’t recognize the other red ‘dotted’ dates. I looked from the PC to the calendar and wondered why Uncle Robert would bother with a calendar when there was bound to be a proper scheduler on his PC. Mum used to say that Uncle Robert was like a big kid. He had to have every new software product going – games, word processors, spreadsheets, databases, schedulers, you name it, he had it.

‘Can I switch on the PC?’ I asked Ian.

‘Why?’

‘Uncle Robert wrote a game for me and I’m finding it difficult to get started with it. I thought there might be some clues on his machine.’ I said the first thing that came into my head. Then I realized something else. I hadn’t actually had the chance to play with Uncle’s game yet. With everything that had been going on recently, it had completely slipped my mind.

‘Go on, then. If you think it will help,’ Ian said sceptically.

I switched on the PC processor. The screen and the loudspeakers came on automatically, unlike on Mum’s machine where you have to switch on every peripheral individually. Within moments, there was a message on the screen:

SYSTEM DISK FAILURE: NO BOOT SECTOR FOUND – BOOT FROM CD-ROM
?

I gasped, as did Ian and Nosh. First Mum’s machine. Now Uncle Robert’s had been wiped too. That had to be more than just a coincidence.

‘Those blundering police!’ Ian fumed. ‘Look what they’ve done. They were messing about on Robert’s machine and now they’ve lost all his data.’

I looked up at Ian. Some gut instinct told me that someone had been messing about on Uncle Robert’s machine, but it hadn’t been the police …

‘Ian, I think you’d better get over here,’ Rohan called out from across the office.

‘What is it?’ Ian yelled back.

‘We’re on the telly,’ Rohan replied.

‘Good or bad?’

‘Bad.’

Ian turned and practically ran across the open plan. Nosh followed him. I got up but lagged behind a bit. After a quick glance around, I opened up Uncle’s top drawer. Papers and more papers. The second drawer was even worse. Closing the drawers, I pulled open the pen tray at the top of the desk but it didn't pull out all the way. Something was stopping it from opening properly. I squatted down to peer beneath the pen tray. Taped underneath and towards the back of it was a CD in a plastic wallet. There was no way to see it if you didn’t
stoop
down and check out the underside of the tray. I instantly knew what was on the disk. It was a back-up of all the data that had been on Uncle’s PC. The only question was, how old was the back-up? When I removed the CD, I saw that there was also a piece of paper in the wallet. Putting the disk into my pocket, I then nosed the piece of paper. It was Uncle’s e-mail address and password. I put that in my pocket too before closing the pen tray.

Thank goodness Uncle Robert was so PC conscientious. He was always reminding me never to do anything on a PC without taking a back-up afterwards. I knew he had to have a back-up disk somewhere and I remembered him saying he kept one in his desk as well as another one at home. I turned off the PC and followed Nosh and Ian to the other end of the open plan.

‘What were you doing over there?’ Ian’s eyes narrowed as he watched me.

‘Turning off the PC,’ I answered. I turned away, hoping I didn’t look too guilty.

Rohan was pointing a remote control up at the TV mounted against one wall. The TV volume began to increase. I recognized the face of the man on the telly instantly. It was Marcus Pardela.

‘
… Just the sort of underhand tactic that a group like ANTIDOTE would use
,’ Marcus said to the interviewer who stood before him. ‘
One of their operatives, a man called Robert Gaines, is already in police custody for trying to
break
into our main industrial plant, and I understand it’s only a matter of time before his accomplice, his sister-in-law Lisa Gaines, is picked up by the police as well. And now on top of all that, we have a few more misguided ANTIDOTE individuals actually trying to set fire to our plant today after their so-called protest march. They profess to be animal lovers and to care for the environment and yet they think nothing of putting innocent human lives at risk and …
’