‘I've had two dreams since we last talked. And also a dream that came true.’ Frank was lying on Doctor Bedi’s couch once more. It was Monday evening. He had just returned from his day out at Kalanggaman Island with Emet.
Doctor Bedi was her usual, laconic, passive-aggressive, but barely engaged, self. She gazed down at her blank notepad, where she would pretend to take notes. And that she cared. ‘So, to be clear: is this two dreams or three dreams?’ she asked.
‘Two dreams. One reality that was so good it felt like a dream. So maybe three dreams in all.’ Frank told her.
‘I’m so glad I bill by the hour. Although, if you had come yesterday, my rate would have been doubled. Oh well, you can’t win them all. At least I had a whole day of nothing all to myself. Okay, let’s hear about these dreams.’ Doctor Bedi eyeballed the camera on the ceiling. She hoped Ethan was getting it, even if it violated every rule on the confidentiality of medical records. She just could not be bothered to take notes.
‘Well, in the first one, I kicked a homeless guy and beat up another guy up behind a casino.’ Frank told her matter-of-factly. ‘What could that mean?’
‘That rap music and video games have desensitised you to mindless violence?’ Doctor Bedi stated dryly.
Frank cast a deeply disapproving gaze in her direction.
Doctor Bedi continued. ‘Is it possible that in your dreams you are fantasising about a man you want to be but are not?’
Now Frank’s gaze was totally befuddled.
‘Have you ever dreamt that you are an extra on “Hawaii Five-O”? Or a colour blind surfer with zero dress sense? Because you appear to be living that dream right now.’ Doctor Bedi told him.
Frank chuckled. ‘The okay-okay in Palompon didn’t have a lot of clothes my size.’
Doctor Bedi’s eyes widened. ‘Ah! So that’s where you went today. The whole Subdivision was abuzz. It was like for the first time ever something interesting has actually happened around here. It was so interesting that I even missed an episode of “Eat Bulaga”.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘I'm not. It’s terrible. Why were you in Palompon?’
‘So Emet Manalo could take me to paradise.’
Doctor Bedi crossed her legs, lowered her eyebrows and glowered at Frank. ‘There is a type of dream I will never seek to interpret. Firstly, because they are disgusting, dirty things. Secondly, because of my HRT treatment. Can you recall what they are?’
Frank waved his hands in front of his face in protest. ‘No, Doctor Bedi, it's nothing like that. Emet took me to an island from Palompon that begins with a “K”...’
‘Kalanggaman.’
‘Easy for you to say.’
‘I know. I just did. I hear it’s very beautiful there.’
Frank nodded. ‘It is. I don’t think I’ve seen anywhere like it.’
Doctor Bedi thought for a second. ‘Well, seeing as your experience of the world is very narrow, since you have not travelled to many places and are, after all, British, your sample size has been very small. But I will take your word for it. Maybe I will take my husband there when he returns from his work at sea, provided he hasn’t attached himself to any morality-free floozies, like last time. And the time before. Anyway, I digress. Not as much as he did, but still, I digress. So, how did this make you feel?’
Frank didn’t have to think for more than a second. ‘Happy. The happiest I have ever been. I mean, I can’t remember being as happy. But that’s the thing: I forget everything when I'm with Emet. The whole world is just her and I. Nothing else.’
Doctor Bedi glanced up at the faceless camera in the ceiling, really hoping that Ethan was recording this. ‘But when you are apart from her, the nightmares recur?’
‘Well, they have to. I'm not sleeping with her. Not yet anyway. That’s not the Christian thing to do.’ Frank told her. ‘So are you saying that marrying her could be the cure to my nightmares?’
Doctor Bedi set Frank straight. ‘I am not saying it, Mister Diggory. You are saying it. That is the beauty of therapy. You guide someone to reach their own conclusions and then take no responsibility for the outcome. Except if it’s positive, of course. Then you can give me five stars on Google. But tell me: you had another dream. What was it? And it better not be...’
Frank cut her off. ‘It wasn’t. Far from it. I was in a masked gang. We carried out a raid on a warehouse in Glasgow. There were these women in cages...’
Doctor Bedi waved to cut him off. ‘I thought you said it wasn’t...’
Frank interjected. ‘Trust me: if definitely wasn’t. We set them free from the cages, but then cable tied them and bundled them into vans, which took them who-knows-where. I was really shaken by it. I mean, human trafficking in any form is utterly abhorrent. How can anyone get involved in it?’
‘But in your dream, you were.’
‘Exactly. That’s why I was so shaken.’
Doctor Bedi sighed and thought for a second. ‘And you were not in any way aroused by seeing those women in cages?’
‘Absolutely not! I was horrified. Furious.’ Frank objected.
‘Then you are a decent human being.’ Doctor Bedi told him. ‘We need more men like you if we are to stamp out this depravity. Mister Diggory, I think we can say that these dreams are just dreams. They are not a reflection of your current personality...’
Frank interrupted. ‘My “current” personality? What do you mean?’
‘I mean, they are in no way a reflection of the man you are now.’ Doctor Bedi backtracked, laughing nervously, before saying, rather unconvincingly, ‘I mean how could I have any knowledge of who you were before you arrived here? That would be impossible, right?’
‘I guess.’ Frank admitted.
‘You just had a dream day out with a woman you are so clearly fond of, and I hear that the meals you have set up at the Kainan for the poor have been very well appreciated. Focus on the good things, Mister Diggory, and the good things you are doing. The nightmares will then take care of themselves.’
‘Thank you, Doctor Bedi. Thank you so much.’ Frank told her, as he got up from the couch. ‘That really has helped me.’
‘And it has also helped me too.’ Doctor Bedi told him.
‘Really?’
‘Yes, I now have a place to go to with my seriously disloyal husband to win him back from those hussies he wastes his time with, and our session was longer, so my bill will be larger. So, win-win, I would say.’ she replied.
With that, Frank was done, and crossed the road home, just in time for his eight o’clock wash.
‘I actually benefitted from that visit to Doctor Bedi.’ Frank told Emet through the bathroom wall, as he lathered himself up with soap while standing on the tiled floor.
‘You say that like it’s a surprising thing.’ Emet replied, as she shampooed her hair.
‘Well, sometimes I think it is.’ Frank told her. ‘I realised a couple of important things while I was there.’
‘Ma-o ba? What were they?’ Emmet asked him, suddenly pausing her ablutions.
‘Well, the first was that I definitely forget everything when I’m with you. It feels like you and I are the only people in the world.’ Frank told her.
Emet blushed with happiness. ‘Aw! That’s so sweet! I feel the same too. If you would know the number of times I've left here with conditioner still in my hair... But what’s the second?’
‘That you are the cure for my nightmares. They just seem to go when you’re around. I feel so much calmer. And safer. So I guess I'm saying that marrying you would be the best therapy I could have.’
There was a huge splash on the other side of the wall.
It worried Frank. ‘Are you okay there, Emet?’ he asked her.
‘Yeah, I'm fine. Just processing. So are you saying that you want to marry me because I'll get rid of your nightmares?’ she asked, a little disbelieving at what she was hearing, and far from happy about it.
Frank clarified. ‘No. I want to marry because I love you. Scaring away the boogie man in my brain is just a nice side effect.’
Emet caught her breath. ‘You’ve said it! I can’t believe you’ve said it!’ she muttered to herself.
‘Well, it’s true.’ Frank told her.
‘I love you too, Frank. More than you could ever know. And someday I want to marry you too. But I want to help you beat the boogie man first. At least so we can get a good night’s sleep.’ Emet gushed.
‘So, two naked people just confessed their love to each other. Where so we go from here?’ Frank asked her.
‘Well, bed, of course. Once we’ve finished washing.’ Emet told him.
And that’s what they did.
In separate houses.
But before he climbed the stairs to bed, Frank stared into the corner where he assumed the camera was, cleared his throat and announced loudly, ‘What would make me happy is to have a Filipino breakfast together with the woman I love – Emet Manalo – in the restaurant tomorrow morning. Feel free to put some flowers on the table or something. And when we arrive, I’d like “Love is All Around” to be playing – the Wet Wet Wet version, of course. And keep feeding those poor people. They need it. Thank you, and goodnight.’
Doctor Bedi was numbing her brain with a mindless Indian drama when she reached a sudden realisation. She took a pen and paper and scribbled down Frank’s dreams: ‘Tondo... Nightclub... Prostitute... Casino... Women...’ she wrote feverishly. Then she drew arrows, from one to the other.
She was right.
She knew the sequence.
She knew what Frank would dream next.
And then she knew what would follow that.
She had to call Ethan.
She dialled his mobile.
It couldn’t connect.
Where could that nerd be? Wasn’t he a homeboy who rarely went out?
Why wasn’t he answering his phone?
Captain Bautista and Ethan could not sleep. The drunkards behind them in the tent, who had come to the island specifically to see the sun rise in a few hours, were out cold and snoring like horses would if horses snored like oversized pigs with nasal problems. They had eaten some shared barbecue for dinner, in exchange for manning the barbecue to prevent someone who was seriously intoxicated from setting fire to something valuable. But without a tent, sleep eluded them. So instead, as midnight was much closer than when they’d arrived, they took a careful stroll along the beach to the sandbar, taking great care not to go too far in case they ended up in the drink. The further they went, the quieter the catastrophically loud snoring abated. Above them, stars twinkled their joy at their impending union. Ahead of them, the distant lights of Palompon winked their agreement.
Everything was just perfect.
‘You know, I used to think you were a lesbian.’ Ethan told his fiancée as they strolled hand-in-hand along the white sand.
Captain Bautista chuckled. ‘Why?’ she asked.
‘Well, you know, you have the bike and the leathers, and you’re fit and tough, and devastatingly beautiful. And miles out of my league.’ Ethan explained.
Captain Bautista was a bit bemused. ‘So you thought everyone out of your league was a lesbian?’ she asked.
‘It’s a thing we men do.’ Ethan told her. ‘It props up our fragile ego.’
Captain Bautista stared at him in mocking incredulity.
‘Hey! It works!’ Ethan protested.
Captain Bautista smiled and shook her head. ‘Well, for your information, I actually was a lesbian. Until I wasn’t.’
‘So your sexuality is what: fluid? That’s so modern! And cool!’ Ethan gasped, approvingly.
Captain Bautista shook her head. ‘I found myself uniquely placed to mess up the lives of both genders to get what I want, so that’s what I did.’ she admitted ruefully.
‘That’s so modern... but not so cool.’ Ethan responded.
‘I was never attracted to them, only what they could give me. And when they couldn’t give me it anymore, I discarded them like trash. But those days are long gone now. I have you. I don’t need anyone or anything else.’ she tried hard to assure him.
He looked at her with a face that wanted to believe her, but need help with his unbelief.
‘I promise!’ she told him. ‘I am never doing that again. Because I was never attracted to them, but I really am to you.’
‘Now I believe you!’ Ethan laughed
Ethan’s mobile phone picked up a stray signal. And vibrated. Insistently.
He took his hand from Captain Bautista's and extracted the phone from his pocket. ‘Woah! Seven missed calls from Doctor Bedi!’ he exclaimed in surprise.
‘Are you expecting some medical results?’ Captain Bautista asked him, a little concerned.
Ethan dismissed her concerns. ‘No, I had them last week. Nothing serious. Mild case of obesity. Risk of Type 2 Diabetes. Blood pressure a little high. Nothing any Pinoy doesn’t have at my age.’
‘Does she have the hots for you? She is on HRT.’ Captain Bautista teased.
Ethan chuckled nervously. ‘The doctor? Me? I doubt it. Although she was a little over-keen to examine my prostate. Anyway, I have you now.’ He tried to reassure her.
‘And Doctor Bedi is too old for you.’ Captain Bautista scolded him.
Ethan knew what was good for him. ‘And Doctor Bedi is too old for me.’ He parrotted, before adding surreptitiously, ‘...now.’
‘Well, call her, then. It might be important.’ Captain Bautista encouraged him.
‘Phew! I have your permission. Cool, I’ll call then.’ Ethan breathed. He video called her. She was in bright night clothes that were demure, but clearly too young for a woman of her maturity. And had a picture of Hello Kitty on the front. ‘Doctor Bedi! How can I help you?’ he asked.
‘I have news.’ Doctor Bedi told them urgently.
Captain Bautista butted into the call, for no other reason than to mark her territory. ‘So have we. We’re engaged!’ she announced, flashing the ring on her finger.
Doctor Bedi was effusive in her mildly disinterested enthusiasm. ‘Wow! Congratulations! I think. I never had you as the marrying type, Captain, more as the breaking marriages type. Take my advice: do not let him work away from home. If you do, he’ll have a hussy in every port and the only thing he'll bring you home is a Toblerone and an STD – and the STD will last longer.’
‘Okay, I’ll bear that in mind. I think.’ Captain Bautista replied.
‘What is your news?’ Ethan asked Doctor Bedi.
‘I sequenced Mister Diggory’s dreams. I know what’s happening. He’s dreaming backwards.’ Doctor Bedi told them.
‘What, you mean he’s dreaming in rewind? That’s just bizarre.’ Captain Bautista told her. ‘Are you sure they aren’t in Russian?’
‘No, his dreams are forwards, but the events in then are in reverse sequence: they are going backwards.’ Doctor Bedi explained. ‘He has had five dreams so far. Five key events in the case: the fire in Tondo, the fight at the Hellsgate club, the poisoning in the Glasgow hotel, the beating behind the casino and the warehouse shakedown. And I know what will be next. And after that...’
‘After that he realises who he is.’ Captain Bautista stated.
‘And he knows the big secret which keeps him in our Subdivision.’ Ethan added. ‘Wow! That’s really going to hurt Emet.’
Doctor Bedi interjected. ‘But that’s the thing: he told me that when he's with her, he forgets everything – like it’s just the two of them in the world and no-one else.’
‘I never thought Scottish people could be so romantic.’ Captain Bautista mused.
‘Amazing what a bang on the head will do.’ Doctor Bedi clarified.
‘So Emet could be the reason why he’s forgetting his past.’ Ethan thought out loud.
‘And the reason why he’s still here.’ Captain Bautista added.
Doctor Bedi provided a more detailed explanation. ‘I believe his dreams are his past leaking through his consciousness while he is asleep, and Emet is not there. I believe he has just one more dream to go before he remembers everything, and all the foreign money leaves Paraiso. And probably me too. You people can’t afford me. I’ve already started packing. I’m hoping for Singapore next.’
Ethan bade her farewell. ‘Thank you, Doctor Bedi. That really was useful information. Have a good evening!’
Dr Bedi was quick to reply, and uncharacteristically excited. ‘Of course I will. I'm packing for Singapore. Merlion, Raffles, Marina Bay Sands – hey, even Universal Studios – Zoya Bedi is coming for you all! Goodnight!’
As the call ended, Ethan turned to Captain Bautista and asked, ‘So, it’s all coming to an end. What should we do?’
Captain Bautista smiled. ‘Easy. Call the mga afam. Tell them what’s happening. Watch Diggory closely as he comes to his senses. Then, when we have what we need, sell it to the highest bidder and live the high life.’
‘But what about Paraiso? And Emet?’
Captain Bautista screwed up her face. ‘Does it have to be so complicated? They survived before Diggory. They’ll survive after. The only difference is: we’ll both be rich. And I like that.’
The call was placed. Captain Bautista and Ethan stood as close as they dared to the end of the Kalanggaman sand bar to pick up the faintest traces of mobile signal and initiated the group call with Agents Kaplan and Hughes.
‘So why have you called us this time?’ Agent Kaplan drolled in his usual semi-deadpan manner.
‘We have news.’ Ethan began.
Captain Bautista interrupted him. ‘We’re engaged!’ she gushed, flashing her ring finger at them.
‘Congratulations! That was fast.’ Agent Hughes grinned.
‘Yeah, he’s lonely and infatuated and desperate; I’m sick of being alone and unloved. It sort-of works.’ Captain Bautista told them.
‘Who said romance was dead? I'm happy for you.’ Agent Kaplan stated dryly, in a way that did not betray even a shred of happiness. ‘But why did you call?’
Ethan began his explanation. ‘I’ve been talking to Doctor Bedi...’
‘And you’re still engaged? Bautista, you must be very forgiving.’ Agent Kaplan quipped.
Ethan firmly shook his head. ‘Not in that way. No way. Never.’ He nodded to Captain Bautista. ‘I love her. And besides, she’s a police woman. She has access to weapons.’
Captain Bautista prodded Ethan gently with her finger. ‘And don’t you forget it!’
Ethan continued. ‘She believes that Sir Frank has been dreaming of the significant events in the case in reverse order and has one more dream to go, and then...’
Agent Hughes completed his sentence. ‘... he will remember.’
‘That’s her theory, yes.’ Ethan acknowledged.
‘Keep watch on him. Let us know if anything happens.’ Agent Kaplan commanded.
‘There is just one little problem.’ Ethan admitted. ‘His girlfriend: Emet Manalo. He told Doctor Bedi that when he’s with her, he forgets everything. And he’s with her a lot.’
‘Then do the obvious thing, Peteros: keep them apart. By any means necessary. What Diggory remembers could be crucial. So he must remember it. Do not let your heart rule your head. Do what you know is right. Whatever the cost.’ Kaplan snapped.
‘Oh, and can you send me a picture of where you are? I’d like it for my computer desktop. It looks idyllic.’ Agent Hughes added, before bidding them ‘Toodles!’ and ending the call.
‘Well, we know what we have to do.’ Captain Bautista told Ethan.
‘Yeah. Get some shut eye somehow and be on the first boat to Palompon.’ Ethan moaned.
The memory arrived like a shattered mirror unshattering. It formed through the cracks of his own recall.
And there he saw it: a church. A Catholic church. Big. Draughty. Empty. No congregation. Just a priest. A single priest. Middle aged. Greying.
The priest headed for the confessional booth. It was his turn to hear the darkest of secrets and dispense mercy.
Even if it was never his to dispense.
So was I Catholic? Frank asked himself. Could explain why I love it here so much.
He headed to the confessional booth. Sat behind the grate. The priest was on the other side.
Frank Diggory made his confession.
The priest was scandalised. Horrified. Ran from the booth as quickly as he could.
But cassocks are not made for running.
Frank leapt out the booth. Dived on the priest. Wrestled his hands behind his back. Punched him on the head. Once. Twice. Three times.
The priest lost consciousness. Blood. Frank noticed blood leeching from the priest's forehead.
But Frank couldn’t care less.
He cable tied the priest's hands behind his back. He made a phone call.
Then Frank left the church.
As if no-one had seen him.
Into the darkness and gloom of the night.
Frank Diggory awoke in his bathroom on his knees. ‘Oh man! How can I be forgiven for what I've done?’ he whined.
‘Bad dream again?’ Emet asked him, unsurprised, since he'd had one six nights in a row.
‘The worst.’ Frank admitted. ‘I beat up a priest. Imagine! A priest!’
‘Were you at a football match? Or coming from a football match?’ Emet inquired.
‘I don’t know.’ Frank replied. ‘Why? Is that important?’
‘Just wondering. Especially since you're from Glasgow.’ Emet quipped gently, before becoming serious. ‘Look, Frank, I want to be with you. I want to have your babies. Start a family. Grow old together. But I only want to be getting up during the night to feed or change our children, not to manage your nightmares. We have to end this.’
‘What? You're breaking up with me?’ Frank intoned desperately. ‘Now? Through our bathroom wall?’
Enet tried to put him at ease right away. ‘No. Definitely not. I want to end your nightmares. And I have an idea that might work.’
Frank raised his head from his pit of anxious despair. ‘Oh? What is it?’ he asked her.
Emet explained her plan. ‘Bring your mobile phone to your bathroom. Turn on your Bluetooth. I’ll connect it to mine and we’ll look on the internet. Together.’
‘I don’t have a mobile phone. I’m not allowed one. I think.’ Frank told her meekly.
‘Wow! They might be monitoring your every movement and have set up a very boring life for you, but that... that is the ultimate indignity. There has to be something in the Geneva Convention about that. It’s cruel and unusual punishment. I mean, where else can you see people’s baseless political opinions, PhotoShopped holiday pictures and videos of cats?’ Emet ranted. ‘Look: no problem. Just come round to mine. Our Wi-Fi stretches to the dirty kitchen. We can take a look there.’
‘You have a dirty kitchen? And you eat food from there? Why don’t you clean it?’ a thoroughly perplexed Frank asked her through the bathroom wall, which had been cleaned by a cleaner he barely knew he had.
‘Just come over. Soon as you can. Come to the front door. I’ll let you in.’ she instructed him.
Frank complied. A few minutes later, the movement sensor picked him up as leaving from his house and triggered an alert on Ethan’s computer. Which, of course, he couldn’t actually pick up as he and Captain Bautista were in the main part of Kalanggaman Island, where they had no signal, and were sleeping in the open air between some spiky plants, away from the main beach.
Frank rapped gently and politely on Emet’s front door.
‘Keep quiet. My parents are sleeping.’ she shushed him, before leading him through their lounge, then their dining area (where he had been the previous Sunday), and then their kitchen, to their back door. She opened it quietly and led him to a roofed, but open-sided outdoor kitchen. Utensils and woks and various other paraphernalia for cooking nestled on wooden shelves or hung from metal hooks.
‘Welcome to our dirty kitchen.’ Emet told him quietly.
Frank disagreed. ‘It looks quite clean to me.’
Emet chuckled. ‘We use this kitchen for grilling and the other kitchen for anything else.’ She gestured towards a couple of tatty lawn chairs, situated opposite the metal grill used for barbecues and the sink next to it used to wash utensils. ‘Take a seat. I'll get my laptop and be right back.’
Frank obliged. Emet disappeared inside and came back quickly with what seemed to be quite a high powered, relatively new, laptop.
Frank was impressed. ‘That’s a nifty piece of kit. How did you manage to get that?’
‘Well, there’s something you don’t know about me.’ Emet told him.
‘Oh?’
‘You know I work in IT security.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Well, it’s more like IT insecurity.’
Frank was thoroughly confused by that. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Do not tell anyone else this, okay? But I'm a white hat hacker. Ethical. I hack companies’ systems and then tell them how I did it.’ Emet explained.
‘Okay. And it’s legal? I mean, what you do is legal, isn’t it?’ Frank asked, a little nervous now of what she was about to do.
Emet felt like she was a little caught with her pants down, but could not lie to Frank. Not now. Not ever. ‘The stuff I’m paid for? Yes. I have a few side projects...’ She held out a hand and tilted it up and down to show that perhaps sometimes she wasn’t on the right side of the law.
‘And right now, what we’re about to do now: it’s legal, isn’t it?’ Frank asked with concern.
Emet tilted her hand again.
‘I don’t know, Emet. This is all new to me. Should I be a part of this?’ Frank fretted.
‘Don’t you want to get rid of the nightmares?’
‘Well... yes.’
‘Then this is what it will take.’
Frank sighed. ‘Okay. Okay. But I promise I won’t tell anyone. Just... don’t go anywhere too government-y. Okay?’
‘Okay, unless I need to so we can find out the truth. So, here we go...’ Emet opened up the screen and typed furiously into her laptop. ‘We are the only Subdivision with high speed broadband because of one guy – Ethan Peteros. He owns the big house on the hill. He has a bunch of servers up there. I’m guessing we should start there. Surely he must know something...’
Intruder alarms went off in Ethan’s computer system. He did not receive the alert. He was too busy snuggling into Captain Bautista on Kalanggaman Island’s west beach.
‘Okay, we are in.’ Emet announced with no triumph at all. ‘Let’s see what Ethan knows.’ She searched through his system. ‘Wow! He has all the CCTV videos and motion sensor logs of you... Your movements... Your job profile... Your requests... This guy knows everything about you. I mean, everything.’
‘Great. I have a stalker.’ Frank sighed.
Emet searched some more. ‘Woah! Frank! You must be some big shot to someone somehow!’ she exclaimed in surprise. ‘Not as big as you are to me, but still big.’
‘Thank you. You are a big shot to me too, but why are you saying that?’ Frank replied.
‘Because Ethan has been calling two agents in the CIA and MI6 about you. Look!’ She spun the computer around to show him Ethan's calendar, as well as a file Ethan had on both agents. ‘You’re a person of interest to two international law enforcement agencies.’ she told him in surprise.
‘That could go one of two ways.’ Frank mused.
Emet looked at him. Hard. ‘Frank, you are not a criminal. I refuse to believe it.’ She thought for a few seconds. ‘I have a contract to ethically hack into the Police National Computer in the UK, so that would be legal. Better take some precautions though...’ She began typing and clicking furiously again.
‘You’re hacking into the PNC? Why?” Frank asked her, bewildered.
‘If you have a criminal record, it will be there.’ she told him.
Frank justified it in his head. ‘Ah, so this is like a semi-legal Disclosure Scotland check, but faster. And cheaper.’
‘If you say so.’ Emet told him, completely distracted by the task at hand. ‘Okay, that’s in place. That should keep us safe. In we go...’ She logged into the Police National Computer and started a search for Frank’s details.
Seven thousand miles away, and seven hours behind, an alert blinked on a computer monitor. The operator noted it, got up from his office chair and walked through to a soundproofed glass office. He knocked on the door.
‘Enter!’ a female Scottish voice barked authoritatively.
The man complied and closed the door carefully behind him. In front of him was a tall, stern, bespectacled woman, flecks of grey in her middle-aged hair betraying the sacrifices she had made to rise to the top – not least to her conscience. ‘Ma’am, we have a breach. Someone has got into the PNC from outside and are viewing a record right now.’
The woman surveyed the efficient, but slightly mewling, dark-haired Police officer in front of her. She raised her spectacles a little with her right hand. ‘Which record?’ she asked calmly, belying the nervous twist in her stomach.
‘DCI Diggory’s, Ma’am.’ the male officer told her with no little trepidation.
‘Trace it. Now.’ she snapped. ‘I’ll inform the Home Secretary. Operation Barium cannot be compromised.’
The police officer snapped his heels together. ‘Yes, Ma’am!’
‘Frank, you have a criminal record.’ Emet told him, in a hushed and fearful awe.
‘What for?’ Frank asked.
‘Assault of a priest, multiple assaults of other criminals, grievous bodily harm outside a casino, attempted murder in a hotel, attempted murder in a nightclub.’ Emet gulped. ‘Frank! All of your dreams... they’re real. They’re you. Or they were.’
‘China... Iran... North Korea... Oh, this hacker is good.’ The policeman muttered as he traced the signal across multiple servers. ‘Kazakhstan... Cuba...’
Frank sank into his lawn chair in shock and despair. ‘Help me, Emet. I’m everything I hate.’
‘But, Frank, look at this: these charges are in the opposite order that your dreams came in. And there’s something else. Look.’ She pointed to the screen. ‘Against every one of them: “Do not proceed”. They didn’t prosecute you for any of them.’
Frank was stunned. ‘But why? I did it. All of it. I’m a criminal.’
Emet corrected him. ‘Not officially. Hold on. I'll look elsewhere. This will be less legal.’
‘Turkey... Belarus... Hungary...’ I think I'm getting there.’ the policeman tracing her signal muttered.
‘No way! I’ve found you!’ Emet proclaimed triumphantly. ‘You are Detective Chief Inspector Frank Diggory of Police Scotland. Look: it says right here on your HR record. And you are an undercover cop!’
‘Gotcha!’ the policeman proclaimed, typed a location into a map and viewed it. He ran to his commander, knocked the door and barged in unannounced. ‘I have it. Our hacker is in the Philippines.’
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