Ghost in the Wires_ My Adventures as the World's Most Wanted Hacker - Kevin Mitnick [65]
Doing line verifications was a routine task. The tech would simply lift each cable pair one at a time, clip his lineman’s handset to the pair, and dial the code to determine each phone number.
The thousand-cycle tone didn’t make sense. Intriguing. I had no idea what it meant but didn’t have time to dwell on the question. My heart was racing, I was sweating with fear, knowing he was going to read me one of my dad’s phone numbers.
He finally came back on the line and gave me the two phone numbers connected to one of the boxes. Neither of them belonging to Dad.
I let out a silent sigh. I could finally breathe again. It was as if a ton of bricks had been lifted off my chest.
But what about the other two boxes? The tech sounded just a bit annoyed when I told him I needed the other two traced, as well. Still, he wasn’t going to make trouble for himself by complaining out loud. Though the wait this time was much longer, he finally came back and gave me the numbers that were connected to the other two boxes. Again, none were for any of my dad’s lines.
No one was checking up on me.
I could hardly wait for the next step: calling both numbers assigned to each box.
First I tried one of the thousand-cycle numbers. It rang three times and then answered with a beep-beep-beep. I tried again. And again. No matter what time I called, always the same thing. What could this be? Maybe it was waiting for some type of code. Whatever the explanation, it was obvious to me that it wasn’t the line being wiretapped.
I was going to enjoy exploring and finding out this number’s secret.
The other number connected to the first box was answered with just a “Hello”—which had to be the person being intercepted. Just out of curiosity, I called the Mechanized Loop Assignment Center to learn who the unfortunate victim of the intercept was.
It wasn’t a Mr. or Mrs. Somebody; it was a company called Teltec Investigations. I tried the lines on the second box, and then the third. All three were for the same company, Teltec Investigations.
That evening over dinner I mentioned to my dad that I had checked to see if our phone lines were being wiretapped. He rolled his eyes. I could imagine what he was thinking: My son must be living in a James Bond fantasy world to think anybody would bother wiretapping him. That’s the kind of stuff that only happens in spy movies.
I tried to convince him it was a serious possibility though there was no need to worry. There really were wiretaps in the neighborhood, but they were on some company called Teltec Investigations, not on us.
I smiled to let him know there was nothing to be concerned about. He looked at me in surprise. “Teltec?!”
I nodded.
In another of those small-world coincidences, my dad knew about Teltec, which, he explained, was a PI firm—a company employing private investigators and skip tracers who tracked down the assets of business partners who’d squirreled away more than their share of the profits, men who were getting divorced and had tons of cash in hidden bank accounts, and so on. And, “I know Mark Kasden, the manager there,” my father told me. Then he added, “How about if I give him a call? I bet he’ll want to know what you found out.”
I said, “Why not?” I thought the guy would appreciate the information.
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the apartment door. Kasden hadn’t wasted any time coming over. Dad let him in and introduced us. The guy was short and stocky but muscled, with a bit of a ponytail that looked like it was maybe meant to distract you from noticing that he was balding on top. He didn’t look anything like my idea of a Sam Spade or Anthony Pellicano, though I’d find out later that he was one of those avid Harley owners who talked about their bikes with great affection. And he was always on the hunt for chicks, focused on his next conquest.
I looked at this guy and wondered why his firm was being investigated,