The Diary of Sophie Dayton — Part 6
Tracking down a hacker
A humorous, coming-of-age detective story
Sophie Dayton is a totally normal student. Until she isn’t! Expelled from her studies, rendered homeless for reasons nobody can explain, she turns detective to try and find out why. But in the process of looking for answers, she discovers a lot of questions related to parts of her past she’d thought long dead… The story is narrated through the medium of diary entries, interspersed with lists, thoughts and humorous observations.
Part 6 — Tracking down a hacker
Tuesday 30th Jan 2018
One thing is to be said for all the tension yesterday, it exhausted me enough that I slept soundly through the night. All the way through the night. With no interruptions. Thank heavens.
I woke feeling much refreshed, which was a mercy because the first thing that happened today was an encounter with my other new flatmate, Tessa. And when I say encounter, it was more like she bounced into my field of vision, introduced herself, then proceeded to talk non-stop for a solid 10 minutes. She’s very short and has wild, dark hair so it was like being accosted by a determined fairy — if you could find a fairy that was obsessed with organisational details and quantum physics in equal degrees. Layla had already showed me the cleaning rota but Tessa launched into a detailed explanation of the colour coding system and the contingency scheme that kicks in if one of us is ill or for whatever reason unable to do our chores. I can already say with some certainty that Tessa will become a powerful force in the scientific world, based on her ability to transform a humble rota into something worthy of NASA. After she disappeared back into her room I had to sit down for a moment and catch my breath because it felt like I had just been spat out by a whirlwind. Layla caught sight of me on her way out and laughed. “Don’t worry, Tessa’s not always so overwhelming. She’s making a special effort because you’re new.”
Great!
I’d left all the results of my previous shopping trip as a parting gift to Shane, so one of my first actions this morning was to venture out for fresh food supplies. On my return, I found Dylan installed at the kitchen table practising scales on his guitar. I didn’t want to interrupt him but he greeted me and asked me how I was settling in — all without missing a note (thus dispelling the myth that men cannot multitask). We chatted as I made myself some toast and somehow it came up that I was on the lookout for a hacker.
Note to self: Try to refrain from spilling entire life story to new acquaintances
Unsurprisingly, given that he’s a musician, Dylan seems to be one of those people who knows people. He admitted he wasn’t acquainted with any hackers but offered to put me in contact with another guy who might be able to help. Of course, I gratefully accepted. Let’s hope this leads somewhere.
Later…
And that, Dear Diary, is how I ended up in a backstreet restaurant called Spaghetti-Is-Us. Contrary to what the name might suggest, it was a cosy little family-owned place, still empty at the early hour of my appointment. In fact it was so empty that I couldn’t stop the inevitable mafia associations running through my head as I sat fidgeting. Things didn’t improve when I got a look at the man who sat down opposite me. Middle-aged, thick-set and wearing heavy gold jewellery, he looked like anyone’s idea of a godfather. Until he opened his mouth, that is.
“Alright Sophie, is it? What can I do you for you then?” he drawled in a broad Manchester accent. Turning to the waitress, “Alright love. I’ll ‘ave spaghetti, but tell em to cook it properly. None o that ‘al dent’ shite.” The waitress scribbled his order down and turned to me. For want of a better idea, I ordered the same thing. She snapped her notebook shut and sauntered off behind a curtain into the back. My dinner partner — or Simon, as he told me his name was — regarded me with pleasantly expectant expression. I realised I hadn’t answered his question.
“Well Simon, it’s like this.” I attempted to be suave. “I’m hoping you can put me in touch with someone who has a special kind of… skill.”
He nodded wisely. “Hitman is it love? Jealous ex-boyfriend? You look like the type.”
“What? No!” I exclaimed, far too loudly. Excellent suavity, Sophie! Glancing around, I continued in a more appropriate tone. “No, no. It’s more along the lines of…hacking.”
Simon’s expression became amused. “Let me guess. Wrong grade at uni? We’ve all been there ‘aven’t we, love. Shame they’re not more careful in their marking, these teachers.”
“Something like that, yes.”
He was looking at me closely. “Do I know you? You look familiar. I’d swear I ‘aven’t met you before, but I never forget a face and there’s something about you. What did you say your last name was?”
“Er, I didn’t.”
“Well, what is it?”
I hesitated. “Dayton?”
Surprise and recognition dawned on Simon’s face. “Dayton… never thought I’d see…” He gazed at me wonderingly.
It was freaking me out. “What?” I snapped.
His face relaxed into a smile. “Nothing love. Let’s say you brought back an old memory. Anyway, moving on. An ‘acker was it? I’ve got just the bloke for you!”
Our meal arrived and I was kept fully occupied fighting the reluctant spaghetti onto my fork while Simon chomped his way through the meal at unbelievable speed, chattering the whole while. Before I was halfway through my plate, he’d signalled the waitress, paid the bill and scribbled a note for me. “Ta-ra love, best of luck!” Before I could do more than gape at his disappearing back, he was gone.
Pulling the note towards me, I looked at what it said:
Enchantercon — Ethan
Huh?
Sophie’s new and improved rules for meetings with Mafia bosses
1. Be suave,
2. Do not give away last name,
3. Demand addresses and phone numbers instead of cryptic notes,
4. Settle the question of payment beforehand, (Before leaving, Simon tossed a comment to the effect that I shouldn’t worry about the bill for information because it was already settled “through karma”. What does that even mean? Oh god, I hope it doesn’t mean that I owe him one!)
5. Try not to end up owing anything to questionable underworld figures.
Still later…
Thank goodness for the internet. My search led me to a local forum of people comparing pictures of costumes they were planning to wear to a video game convention happening tomorrow. Enchantercon! This Ethan guy must be one of the other attendees. Or at least someone I can find there.
Now I just have to decide on a costume:
Costume idea: Ghost
Equipment needed: Sheet with eye-holes
Pros/cons: Easy to make /Do video games even have ghosts?
___
Costume idea: Witch
Equipment needed: Green face-paint, pointy hat, broomstick
Pros/cons: Would hide face /Potential bullying by outraged Harry Potter fans
— — -
Costume idea: Video game enthusiast
Equipment needed: Geek T-shirt, glasses
Pros/cons: Can probably borrow stuff from Tessa? / Not my size!/ Potential exposure when asked anything about video games…
(To be continued…)
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