CHAPTER FOUR

Running Silent

I was in the act of returning my library books and debating whether to amuse myself with the monthly periodicals when I was startled by an insistent buzzing in my inside, left-hand breast pocket.

“Hello, Holmes,” I enounced. “I am getting the hang of this ‘phone-scrambling malarkey now, this code-word lock thing. Over.”

“My dear Watson, you do not have to keep saying ‘Over’ each time you complete a sentence.”

“Sorry, Over. Oh, sorry.”

“Look here, Watson, can you meet me outside the British Museum in, say, half-an-hour?”

“Well, as luck would have it, I am in Town. What’s afoot?” I enquired.

“I shall explain everything when you get here.”

“How shall I recognise you, Holmes? Over.”

“My dear fellow, today I shall appear as Sherlock Holmes. And, besides, I shall find you.”

“Right you are, Holmes. I shall set off now.”

“Don’t spare the horses, Watson. This one is imperative.”

 

“What’s so imperative about a special exhibition of Early Etruscan Metalwork?” I wanted to know.

“These, my dear Doctor,” said Holmes, displaying two free tickets. “Expire this very day and we would be foolish not to avail ourselves of a little culture. After all, the Etruscans were the masters of bronze. I believe we shall see a rare example of a miniature canopic urn.”

“I am all a-tingle.”

While I kept my iPhone safely tucked inside my left-hand breast pocket, Holmes had his tatty-looking Android out in the open. We handed over our tickets and sauntered into the display. Holmes made a bee-line for a cabinet at the far end of the room.

“Here you go, Watson,” he marvelled. “What are they depicting on this funeral urn, eh?”

“Can’t quite make it out, really.” I shrugged.

“A Dionysian Revel, Watson.” Holmes appeared mildly disappointed at my lack of knowledge in this particular field.

“They are off their rockers,” he laughed. “The Etruscans used intoxicants and other trance-inducing techniques to remove inhibitions and social constraints, liberating the individual to return to a natural state. The Dionysian Revel?”

“Fascinating, I must say.”

Holmes consulted the guidebook and soon we were making haste for a distant display.

“Watson, do you remember that Cartwright fellow? The chap with an amazing abundance of white hair?”

“Well, yes, but I’d be a bit vague on the details. What about him?”

Holmes had his Android open in front of him. “I recall that his first name was Dominic but what was his middle name?”

“How in heaven do you expect me to remember a detail like that?” I asked.

“I shall look him up in my Contacts.” Holmes gave me the decisive nod.

It was just then that a security guard or some other kind of officious fellow came up to us. “Excuse me but you can’t take photos in ‘ere. Sign says clearly, No Photos.”

Holmes scoffed. “But, my good man, who is taking photographs? Are you suggesting that I am doing so?”

“You got your ‘phone out. You can’t take photos. Put it away or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

“Look, my man,” said Holmes. “I am examining my Contacts. We are in the midst of a debate about the middle name of an acquaintance of ours. Do you see a photography application active and in operation?”

“Please, sir. Just put it away or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Holmes thrust his Android into the man’s surprisingly small hands which is often a sign of acrodysostosis.

“Look here, please avail yourself,” said Holmes. “Tell me, can you see any prohibited applications running? No,” he declared without giving the man a chance. “I think not.”

He turned suddenly to me while snatching back his Android. “Watson, it is time that we leave.”

With that, Holmes took my arm and ushered me back out into the sullen drizzle of a Bloomsbury afternoon.

 

“Plonk yourself down here,” said Holmes indicating a bench away from the window. “What can I get you?”

“I’m really not sure, Holmes. I can’t see a menu on the table. What sort of things do they have?”

“Burgers and nuggets.” Holmes appeared impatient. “Ham-burgers, chips, over-sweet deserts and appalling coffee.”

“I thought we might go to that nice chop house at Butler’s Wharf. Where on earth are we?”

“My dear Doctor, we are in an American fast food franchise. We are in McDonalds.”

“Again Holmes, I must ask why?”

“Because of the free Wi-Fi, Watson. That is why. Look, settle yourself down and login. You do not need a passcode. See if the weather is due to pick up any time soon.”

“Ask if they have tea, Holmes.”

Some little time later my friend returned clutching a brown plastic tray.

“Voilà,” he declared. “Here you go, Watson. Your first-ever Happy Meal.”

“Are you not having anything?” I asked.

Holmes made a disparaging puff. “I wouldn’t eat here, my friend. Not for all the tea in China. I only ever pop in to use the loo.”

I looked at the curious package and containers atop a sheet of advertising material that covered the tray. “Aren’t I missing something, Holmes?”

“Such as?”

“Cutlery.” I mimicked the use of knife and fork. “Surely, you do not expect me to eat with my hands.”

“Look around you, Watson. This is the modern world. This is the done thing nowadays. When in Rome, eh?”

“I despair, Holmes. I really do.” I turned up my nose and applied my attention to the iPhone.

“Don’t look now, Watson.” Holmes drew me closer. “But there is a young woman wearing a fawn-coloured windcheater just behind you. She is peering into a laptop and lingering over-long with her Sprite Zero. Now, she is either working on her curriculum vitae or she is operating a Wi-Fi Sniffer.”

“Wi-Fi Sniffer?”

“Precisely.”

I creased my brow, indicating that Holmes should elaborate. My friend pulled out his Android, his fingers flashing like lightning.

“I suspect a Pineapple, Watson.” A troubled expression came over my friend’s face but then he smiled and applied a look of understanding and patience.

”A simple and deviously portable device that can be carried into any hotspot of the kind you find in hotel lobbies, bars, fast food outlets, etcetera.”

I sat back in wonder.

“The aim of the Pineapple, Watson, is to hoodwink any device such as your iPhone into thinking that it is connecting to a legitimate Wi-Fi access point rather than one-hundred dollars’ worth of clever spyware. I also suspect an Evil Twin attack.”

“Good heavens, Holmes, and here in a McDonalds.” Once more I was taken aback. “And prey tell, what is an Evil Twin attack?”

“You will recall that we have already covered ‘Phishing’ although I admit not in any great detail.”

I concurred.

Holmes peered deep into my eyes, rather like a stage hypnotist. “The Evil Twin,” he explained, “is the wireless version of the old phishing scam. It wants you to lock on to its’ signal so the operator can intercept all your data as it passes through their network. They want your bank details, Watson. Your credit card details primarily and of course PayPal.”

“But am I safe, Holmes? You just had me connect to the Wi-Fi signal here. Surely, I’m at risk.”

“Calm yourself, Doctor. You are perfectly safe. Remember that we installed Hotspot Shield?”

“So, I am down the rabbit hole,” I marvelled. “She can’t see me then, Holmes?”

“You are invisible to her, Watson.”

“Well, that’s a blessed relief, I can tell you. You had me going for a minute there, Holmes. But that is not why we are here, is it?” I asked my friend.

“Perceptive as always, Doctor.” Holmes held up his Android and flicked the screen. “Take a look at these. They are rather good, if I say so myself.”

I looked at the screen perplexed. “Holmes,” I declared. “Surely you were not taking photographs inside the exhibition?”

My friend snickered. “Yes, and much else besides. But these are for educational purposes only.” Holmes continued to flick at the screen. “They have come out rather well, have they not?”

“Well, they look very professional, I must say. Very nicely framed and the lighting is very good. But you have taken dozens of photographs and I didn’t see you compose a single image, not once.”

“That, my friend, is because I was using a secret camera application. A very sneaky device to be sure. There are numerous versions available for both the Android and iPhone. In this instance, my screen appears to be black. I just tap the screen whenever I want to take a photograph and no one need know a thing.”

“Good gosh, Holmes. And none of that camera shutter sound?”

He shook his head. “This particular app, Watson, will also record video in the same manner. You will recall that dullard earlier did not have a clue, not even when he had my device in his hands. Look here.”

I looked at the screen.

“Observe, Watson. He is looking directly into the camera. And listen.” Holmes adjusted the volume.

“Just put it away or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

We both had a good chortle at that. “But tell me, Holmes, what else were you up to?”

Holmes flicked the screen once more. “Even if you had been paying the keenest attention to me, Watson, you would not have seen me activate the secret audio recorder.”

I shook my head.

“In this particular instance, I set it with my map application before I left Baker Street and the very instant we stepped over the threshold of the museum my device automatically began recording.”

“Well, I must say, this is all very clock-and-dagger, Holmes. Next thing you will be telling me that you can see in the dark.”

“But of course. Here is my night vision app.” Holmes then peeled back the sticky tape from the back of his Android. “See here, Watson. Notice that I have affixed a small ring around the camera lens.”

Holmes fished around in his pocket and placed three small round items on the Formica table-top. “These are additional lenses. In order to see well at night you need a good lens. They just clip on. I have here a fisheye for a wider field of vision, a powerful zoom and a macro lens which transforms my Android into a highly efficient magnifying glass.”

“Well, I am flabbergasted, Holmes. I had no idea these things were available.”

“And look at this, Watson. This is Ear Spy. I might be sitting here, minding my own business, listening to music with my earphones plugged in and my feet all a-tap but in reality I am amplifying the sound around me and can easily listen in on other people’s conversations.”

“Astonishing.” I snapped back my jaw. “What else have you there?”

“I have all the essentials, everything to turn my seemingly ordinary Android into a high-tech spy tool and counter-surveillance device.”

“My head is spinning,” I told him.

Holmes lowered his voice. “Right now, Watson, I am waiting for a small steam drifter to reach the South Coast. She slipped into the Bay of Biscay late last night under the cover of dark.”

Holmes held his Android closer so that I could see. “With Ship Finder I can monitor the position of all manner of vessels from passenger and cargo ships to yachts and gin-palaces.”

“Holmes,” I said. “I know this is unlikely, but just suppose your ‘phone were ever to fall into the wrong hands, they would see all this clever spy equipment and the game would be up.”

“Except, my dear friend, all these clever little apps are hidden within a secret compartment deep inside my device.”

Holmes noted my confusion. “Obviously, there is no button here saying ‘Secret Compartment’. In order to open my safe, all I need do is make a call to a specific number and hey presto the hidden vault reveals itself. And should the worst ever come to the worst, there is a self-destruct feature that let’s me send a special code to my ‘phone and all the data within simply disappears.”

“But what if you needed that information, Holmes. Would it be lost forever?”

“No, my dear Watson. Because I have safely backed up my Android to a secure cloud location.”

“Like DropBox or the iCloud?” I ventured.

“Not on your life, Watson. They are not to be trusted. There are plenty of other options from Tresorit through to Seafile. These, my friend, can be relied upon.”

“And do you not still need passwords, Holmes, to keep everything secure, or is that passé now?”

“Of course you do,” laughed Holmes. “It is more vital now than ever.” He stood suddenly, preparing to depart. “But let us adjourn to more commodious surroundings and I shall show you how to devise a password so fiendishly secure that not even the might of the NSA and all its computing power will be able crack it.”

Holmes gave me a sly wink. “That said, Watson, one should never say never.”

“I’ll attract the waitresses’ attention,” I told him while looking keenly about me.

“Do not trouble yourself, Watson. That has all been taken care of. You remember that case of the Dowager and the missing fortune that I was telling you about?” said Holmes as he ushered me through the double glass doors and out into the gloom-laden street.

I popped open my umbrella and raised it high so Holmes could come in out of the rain. “Well, that one paid off handsomely, my friend. I am in funds. Your shout next time, Doctor.”