Free Cherringham--Thick as Thieves by Neil Richards Page B

woollen hat pulled down over her hair and he was sure Sitwell would never recognise her. Across the road they could see the academic being shown to a table for two in the window. The place was empty — and Jack realised it was still early, too early for dinner and too late for lunch.
    Afternoon tea , thought Jack. How terribly quaint.
    “There’s another cafe just a bit further down,” said Sarah. “We can watch him from there.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yes, it’s a bit of a parents’ hangout — but it serves the best cakes in Oxford,” said Sarah. “No way am I walking down Walton Street without having one. I’ll get us a table.”
    Jack watched her slip down the street then followed briskly behind.
    He pushed open the door of the cafe and breathed in the smell of fresh coffee.
    Worth the trip just for that, he thought.
    The place was bustling, crowded with mums and kids and buggies. Amazingly Sarah had found an empty table in the corner by the window. He joined her. It was perfect — Sitwell was clearly visible across the street, but they would be hidden by the angle of the window and the various theatre posters stuck all over it. Jack ordered a coffee and felt virtuous declining the offer of cake, though when Sarah’s cake came he didn’t reject the offer of a mouthful.
    “So, what now detective?” said Sarah, licking her fingers.
    He shrugged.
    “I don’t know, really,” he said. “The whole point of this is just to get a sense of him. Who he is. What he does. Who he lives with — or not.”
    “So if he does have the plate, we can figure out where it might be?”
    “Exactly,” said Jack. “God, this coffee’s good.”
    He kept his eyes on Sitwell, waiting impatiently at his table just across the road. The waiter had come over to him, but it looked like he’d declined to order — so Jack guessed he was waiting for someone to join him.
    “You know, I should have suspected something was up when he came by to tell me the plate was worthless,” said Sarah.
    “Sounds like he’s got some kind of grudge against Cartwright, too.” As Jack watched, Sitwell pulled a laptop out of his briefcase and set it on the table.
    “What I wouldn’t give to know what he’s up to on that thing,” he said.
    “Oh really?” said Sarah.
    She reached into her handbag and pulled out a tablet, flicked it on and swiped the screen a couple of times.
    “How’s your moral compass these days Jack?” she said, looking at him with a mischievous smile.
    “Depends.”
    “Not much of a compass then …”
    “What are you asking me, Sarah?”
    “What if I could tell you what he’s ’up to’ on that laptop?”
    “You’re kidding me.”
    “Couple of years ago, when my marriage unravelled, I er … acquired … a few extra computer skills. The sort of skills you need if you’re going to hack into your cheating husband’s email and web history and nail the lies that will remove him from your life for good.”
    “Ouch,” said Jack. “Sounds like that still hurts.”
    “Oh, it does. Of course, when people ask me if I’m over it — I always say yes.”
    Jack hadn’t taken his eyes off Sitwell, but he did now. He could see that Sarah was angry just recollecting those raw emotions.
    “I guess that’s why I’ve never asked you,” he said. “I just assumed you wouldn’t want to talk about it.”
    “And I appreciate that.”
    Jack nodded and looked back at Sitwell, tapping away at his computer.
    “So. Let’s be clear here. You can access that guy’s laptop from this distance? On that?”
    Sarah nodded.
    “The cafe’s got an open Wi-Fi network. I can see it. It’s not encrypted. He’s the only person in there right now — and I’d bet he’s just logged on. I can get his sign-ins and passwords for pretty much everything he’s doing. Without compromising any innocent bystanders.”
    “And you’ve got time to do it?”
    “Are you kidding?” she said. “It’ll take about two minutes, max.”
    Jack