Page 15 of Mann Hunt
Declan opened a pantry unit beside the counter. “Now, in this cupboard are the electronics that apparently run the telephone, computers and security system. The manuals are down there.” He pointed to a stack of books, still factory shrink-wrapped. “As you can see, neither Mrs B or I had a clue as to how any of that stuff works, which is why nothing is…working. I figure since you’re here and you seem to have experience in that sort of thing, you might as well try to get the tech up and running. Just let me know if there’s anything that’ll affect me directly. I’ll deal with any fall-out from Mrs B when she gets back.”
Charlie stared in awe at the high-tech jungle. If there was a seventh heaven, this was the eighth.
“All right, so far?” Declan asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Charlie replied, smiling.
“Okay then…” Declan placed his hand on Charlie’s back and directed him to his chair.
He rotated Charlie to face the computer. With one hand on Charlie’s shoulder, and the other on the computer monitor, Declan said, “This…is the computer. Oh…” He pulled off a Post-It note that was affixed to the monitor. “This…is the password. Mrs B always left it here for security reasons. You know, in case she forgot it…” Declan gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“That’s it. Good luck.” Declan turned to walk away, then turned back. “Play around and see what you can figure out. I’m an idiot when it comes to how this office works. Mrs B would never tell me anything. I think she thought I’d just fuck it up.” He paused. “And she was probably right. I’ll be in my office if you need anything. If I’m not there, you can find me in my apartment upstairs, just through the green door behind my desk.”
Declan smiled and left the room.
Chapter Seven
Charlie sat for a moment, getting his mental bearings. The first thing was to have a look at the computer, to see what secrets it held. He glanced at the Post-It note with the password. Mrs B had an interesting notion as to what constituted a secure password. Hers consisted of a long string of randomly selected letters, digits and symbols. While this was good in theory, it wasn’t practical if the only way to remember the password was by attaching a Post-It to the monitor.
Charlie logged on to the machine and changed the password to one that was more appropriate—CharliesD0main!. Mrs B would probably have a fit when she came back, but that would be Declan’s problem.
A search of the computer revealed the standard office software. The office email—which he opened with Mrs B’s same complex password—proved to be far more interesting. In one folder, labelledFan Mail,Charlie was delighted to find a number of romantic propositions—many with photo attachments. Itseemed that Mrs B had taken to sending thank-you notes to all of them, even attaching a signed image file of Declan to some of them.
Holy crap—she was trying to set him up!
Next on the list were the IT manuals in the storage cupboard.
When he returned, arms loaded with sealed manuals, he was greeted by the sight of a young boy standing in front of his desk. The child, dressed in a little suit, his black hair neatly combed, stared back at him. He couldn’t have been more than ten years old.
“Mr Hunt?” he asked.
“Uh, no. I’m Mr Watts. May I help you?” Charlie replied, slightly confused.
“I have been asked to deliver this to Mr Hunt,” the boy said, holding up a small cardboard box.
“Well, Mr Hunt is busy at the moment. I’m Charlie, his assistant. I can take the box for him.”
The young boy looked around, appearing to assess the situation and the quality of the business, before saying, “All right.”
The boy handed the box to Charlie, then pulled out a piece of paper, which he also passed to him.
“Print your name where it says ‘Print’, and sign and date the lines next to it where it says ‘Sign and Date’,” the boy instructed, pointing to the appropriate spaces on the delivery slip.
Charlie noted that the header of the paper read “Attwal Accounting Services”. Charlie filled out the sheet and handed it back to the tiny courier who, in turn, tore off his carbon copy and left the office, but not before turning and giving Charlie a huge smile as he waved goodbye.
Charlie shook his head in amusement and proceeded to open the package.
* * **
Declan sat at his desk trying to get his laptop to respond. It was like waiting in line at a checkout as the person in front was paying for their groceries with loose change. It was excruciating. Time was standing still.
His phone chirped, signalling an incoming text. It was from Saanvi Attwal.
The key will be delivered to your office this morning.
That woman is fast, he thought.But what does she mean?
The answer came in the form of a shrill scream from the reception room.
