DarkMarket_ Cyberthieves, Cybercops and You - Misha Glenny [13]
When DS Dawson arrived at Grimley Smith, the MD presented him with the printouts. There was a mind-boggling array of data: information on banks, estate agents, insurance companies, theme parks, cinemas, charities and more, including what looked like some information extracted from the US military. He immediately suspected that he was dealing with some form of fraud, but he could not know what the material signified or how he could begin to confirm these suspicions. These were difficult questions.
‘Right,’ said Dawson ‘Let’s get him in the office for a chat, shall we?’
The Grimley Smith managers looked at each other nervously.
‘What is it?’ asked Dawson.
‘He’s a big lad,’ came the reply, ‘and I’m sure he can kick off.’
‘Well, we’ll address that issue when we come to it,’ said Dawson, mustering as much authority as he could.
But when the tall, imposing man walked into the office, he looked shocked rather than angry. He asked the detective who he was and what he was doing there, with a hint of disdain. Dawson explained why he had been called into GSA and asked the man directly what all the documentation signified. With unexpected nonchalance, the man explained that it was part of a report he was compiling for one of the managers in the room. There was a moment’s silence before the manager piped up defiantly, ‘No, it isn’t!’
‘Right,’ said Dawson, ‘put your hands out, sir.’ And he nodded to his colleague: ‘Put the cuffs on him!’
Far from ‘kicking off’, as the managers had feared, the man remained quite calm, if a touch bewildered, throughout. Two hours after seeing the Command and Control report, Dawson had a suspect under arrest in a police cell. But now he had to build a case quickly. If he was unable to come up with prima-facie evidence of conspiracy or fraud within three days, he would have to let his man go, and that would be the end of it.
Dawson returned to Grimley Smith with an officer from the high-tech recovery unit and the two of them got to work with Darryl Leaning. As Darryl had predicted, the portable disks were packed with hundreds of thousands of documents, most crammed full with details of hacked credit cards and bank accounts. But there were also email exchanges, one of which related to a Yahoo! newsgroup, which was prosaically called bankfraud@yahoogroups.com. The postings and various messages from this group amounted less to an online tutorial and more to a university degree in how to perpetrate fraud on the Internet.
Dawson next drove to the flat on Plimsoll Way in neighbouring Hull, where the suspect lived. The address was on an estate, seemingly part of a dockside regeneration scheme that was showing the first signs of wear. Grimy water marks stained the cream stone façade, which was pockmarked by rust emerging from the rendering. It was an apt physical symbol of New Labour’s Britain – shiny and bright on the outside, but unable any longer to prevent the rotten interior from punching through the surface.
Inside, the rooms bore the mark of a bachelor. It was by no means a pigsty, but there were items strewn about. ‘Lacks a woman’s touch,’ mused Dawson to himself. Then, in the bedroom, the detective hit paydirt. Sitting on the bed were two laptops, one of which was still running. On top of it there was a large pile of documentation. This included countless Western Union receipts confirming transfers to and from the whole world: New Zealand, Mexico, the United Arab Emirates, Ukraine – wherever.
It was all very well having all these files and documents, but, as we know, Dawson needed evidence of a specific crime to bring a charge. As he picked up a huge bundle of papers, a single sheet fell out and floated to the floor. In the months to come, Dawson would often reflect on the serendipity of that moment. For on that sheet were the details of a gentleman somewhere in West Yorkshire with all his bank-account numbers on it. After studying it, Dawson realised this could be the vital smoking gun, because it included a password. If only he could prove that this person had never handed