CHAPTER THREE

The Lock Down

Holmes had sent me a rather cryptic message regarding a rendezvous on a particular bench facing the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens at two-twenty sharp on a broody and deathly calm Wednesday. I looked again at my watch. I had two full minutes to spare and occupied myself in admiring the few small sailboats that drifted leisurely across the cold, grey water.

Beside me on the bench a disreputable old tramp set to whistling Mozart’s Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. I then made the cardinal error of catching his eye. He abruptly cut short the ascending Mannheim ‘rocket’ theme and edged up beside me. I was immediately aware of that particular dank, musty odour reminiscent of hot, exhausted solders that had been so familiar to me in Afghanistan.

“Got any spare change?” The tramp demanded gruffly.

And then the penny dropped. “Holmes, you have made a fool of me yet again. You have done me up like a kipper.” We both chuckled. “Well I must say that is a capital disguise but what, prey, are you doing in that particular get-up?”

“I am on assignment, my dear friend. No peace for the wicked,” winked Holmes. “I am engaged upon a rather convoluted case involving a dowager and a considerable sum of money needing to be returned to its’ rightful owner. We have time yet.”

I settled back on the bench and watched a delightful sloop-rigged miniature yacht tack abruptly to starboard.

“Did you bring your iPhone?” asked my friend.

I tapped my inside, left-hand breast pocket. Holmes nodded and I slipped it out for his scrutiny.

“Now, correct me if I am mistaken but your primary consideration in the selection of a suitable smartphone is ‘style’, yes?”

“Well, not entirely Holmes. There are other considerations. It’s supposed to tie up with my iPad although I confess I can never make it happen. Something always eludes me.” And then a thought did occur to me. “I believe that they are less susceptible to the common viruses.”

“So right you are, Watson. There are more viruses designed specifically for Androids because there are more Android devices in circulation. That said, we are all equally at risk.”

“So why don’t you have one, Holmes?”

“Because I do not entirely trust the Apple Corporation, nor any product made under conditions so harsh that anti-suicide nets are called upon to prevent the workers doing harm to themselves. For another thing, you cannot remove the memory card from the iPhone but you can from an Android.”

“And why should anybody wish to do that, Holmes?”

“Simply because if your ‘phone fell into the wrong hands they would find it so much easier to see who your contacts are, to read your diary and make note of your appointments. With an Android, you might have two sim cards – an important one with all your contacts and a not-so-important one that would not give anything away. You could swap them around as you saw fit.”

“I suppose.”

“And you cannot remove the battery on the iPhone.” Holmes held up a grimy hand. “And why would you want to do that, you might ask?”

I wasn’t sure.

“Because, even if you believe you have switched off your ‘phone and that it is dead to the world, quietly in the background a nasty little program may be lurking, transmitting your whereabouts and ear-wigging on your conversations. That is why, Watson.”

“And you have the gall to accuse me of inflicting my lurid tales upon a long-suffering public,” I huffed.

“Soon,” said Holmes. “We will examine this area in more detail and you will see for yourself. But, for now, my intention is to fine-tune your iPhone. And, for the benefit of your readers, everything that I am about to disclose is equally valid for the Android user.”

“Right you are.”

“We are going to Clear Out, Load Up, Lock Down and Run Silent,” announced my friend. “I noticed the other day that you have many unnecessary applications, starting with Pokemon Go which you claim not to have played in over a week. Get rid of it. And clear out all those unused applications, especially the games.”

Holmes peered over me while I began to delete them one by one.

“Watson, you must be very careful of what you install. Most are free or temptingly inexpensive because the developers make their money by letting in third parties – the advertisers, the criminals, all sorts. And these are the very applications, or ‘apps’ as they are known, which carry out secret tasks and join with other apps to paint a fuller picture of your life.”

I hesitated, my finger poised to remove the very amusing game that involves throwing chickens through hoops and all sorts of other high jinks but Holmes was too fast for me.

“Take Angry Birds for example and I see you have that. There was a phoney version doing the rounds, ringing up premium rate ‘phone numbers on the sly. It cost some people a tidy fortune.”

“Well, I’ll get rid of that Holmes. How can a chap tell if this sort of thing is happening?”
“You might pay attention to how swiftly the battery is depleting and also one clue is an extra warmth about the device which means it is working hard on some secret task. Just get rid of the rotten things and don’t put them back.”

“Right you are.”

“Now you need to Load Up,” announced Holmes. “You need to install the right software. Take anti-spyware and anti-virus programs, for instance. Have you ever taken the time to install any extra precautions?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

The famous Holmes index finger wagged before my eyes. “There is absolutely no excuse not to. They will alert you the very instant somebody with ill intentions sends you an infected email, and they will apply the brakes should you suddenly find yourself heading off to an unbidden Internet page where you may become the unwitting victim of a malicious download.”

Endless questions flashed as one to my mind.

“You don’t have to cough up for the Premium editions,” Holmes declared. “I tend to apply the benefit of the doubt in this instance, Watson, and I accept the free versions especially when they come ‘open-source’, meaning some clever IT fellows – some chaps whose brains work differently from mine – can have a jolly good fish around inside and seek out hidden ‘backdoors’ and the like.”

“I see.”

“So, to that end, install the free version of Avast. That’s the one I currently favour and be sure to install it on all of your digital devices.”

Holmes had me seek out the program via Google and install it there and then. But I had a burning question. “Why are we doing all this outside in the cold by this dreary pond when we might be snug as a bugs at Baker Street?” I pulled the collar of my Dunn & Co overcoat tight about me.

“Because, my dear fellow, we are marginally safer when we use the 4G signal than if we were using Wi-Fi, especially so as you have not as yet installed the next vital step.”

“Which is?”

“An elementary VPN, a Virtual Private Network, Watson. I favour the free version of Hotspot Shield. This will effectively send you down a small rabbit hole. You connect directly to these peoples’ server the very instant you attempt to go online. From that moment forth all your activities are hidden by means of powerful encryption from any snoop or skilled onlooker.”

I looked it up without delay and began to install the ‘app’.

“It also has the added advantage,” confided Holmes. “Of allowing you to view banned content such as Internet sites the government doesn’t want you to see and you can access Twitter and Facebook mobile if their services are ever blocked locally.”

“How so?”

“Because once you are down the rabbit hole you are no longer here in a chill and overcast London. You might be anywhere on the planet that Hotspot Shield sends you.”

“Got that now, Holmes,” I smiled. I was finding it all rather too easy. “What next?”

“Back to your search engine, Watson. Now type “open whisper systems” + signal, got it?”

I travelled from page to page and was finally able to declare, “I am downloading it from the Apple Store now. Another free product, Holmes?”

“Only in that you do not need to pay to download it. This one is crowd-funded and, as the name implies, it is open-source. Trust me on this one.”

“Righto,” I declared. “What’s it for?”

Holmes took the iPhone from me and swiftly his fingers set about an adjustment of the Settings. Then he tapped his nose knowingly. “This shall be our Hot Line. We will scramble our calls. Expect to hear from me.”

“Gosh. Anything else?” I asked. “I confess that it is getting a tad chilly.”

“Lock Down,” said Holmes. “This is where it gets a little technical but nothing that you cannot handle, I promise.“

“You will be pleased to learn, Holmes,” said I as a thought momentarily flashed into my mind. “That I have changed the passcode after your little demonstration the other day. Although I had toyed with the idea of making use of the fingerprint security option. You can even draw a picture, I understand, as a means of unlocking the device.”

“Yes I am aware of that, Watson.” My friend took on his superior air. “And what would you draw, a simple yacht – perchance?”

“Well, yes,” I chuckled. “Sitting here, looking at these boats, I must admit that it had crossed my mind what with it being simple to draw and all that.”

Holmes guffawed loudly and quickly checked himself, lowering his voice. “Better that than the first of the two most popular motifs – which is the human penis, Watson.”

“Blow me,” I declared. “What is the world coming to?”

“But – you being a medical man – would probably make a dog’s dinner of it by going into such detail as to highlight the corpora cavernosa.”

“Perhaps then I should select the fingerprint option,” I opined.

“Au contraire, mon ami. With a copy of a fellow’s fingerprints and access to a 3-D printer it is fully possible to reproduce a facsimile that could easily fool the iPhone and most any similar devices, including anything you might see in the subterraneous recesses of 85 Albert Embankment, Vauxhall.”

With subtle ease Holmes swiftly assumed a nonchalant air. I followed his gaze to see a rather large party of Oriental schoolgirls heading around the delightful curve of the pond and in our direction, and looking as if to dawdle.

My friend then resumed his whistling but with such a painful resonating pitch that I felt the hairs stand erect on the back of my neck. I discretely watched as Holmes directed his world-renowned withering glare towards the party which may have been either Japanese or Chinese for it is sometimes difficult to tell.

“Well, that worked Holmes,” I declared in admiration when they hurriedly set upon their way.

“Quickly, Watson. For the clock runs against us. Open your Settings.” He indicated the forgotten iPhone that lay in my chilled and stiff hands.

“Go to Wi-Fi and untick Ask to join Networks. Now turn off Geotagging and GPS location. Then go to Privacy, Location and untick Use my Location. You don’t need them unless you are looking for the nearest Nepalese restaurant or whatnot.”

Holmes looked about him and brought his swarthy and repellent face close to mine. “Never, Watson, never allow any of your devices to connect with the office network or with any other computer.”

I nodded to show that he had my tacit agreement.

“And, above all else, never – repeat – never avail yourself of free chargers, no matter where you find them, airports, hotels, bars, wherever.”

Holmes stood in preparation for his departure. He bent and gathered the soiled and dog-eared bags that lay strewn all around us.

“And, Watson, remember, on no account are you to let that iPhone out of your sight. Not for a second. Not while you slip to the loo or pop upstairs for a clean handkerchief.”

“But Holmes,” I called. “What about Running Silent? What of that?”

“That, my friend, shall have to wait upon another time and place.”

With that, Sherlock Holmes turned in the direction of the Oriental schoolgirls and was soon out of sight.