The Insider

‘Harry? You finished over at Sheridan?’

Judging from the background acoustics, he was yelling into a conference phone from several feet away.

‘I’m done,’ Harry said. ‘Except for the paperwork.’

‘Ditch it. I’ve another job for you.’

‘Right now?’ She was starving and could smell the coffee and bacon rolls from the sandwich bars in Baggot Street. She stood up and strolled towards the canal bridge.

‘Yeah, right now. Send me on the Sheridan details, I’ll get Imogen to compile the report. I want you on another vulnerability assessment.’

Harry could hear the click of his keyboard in the background. Trust Dillon not to waste an opportunity to multi-task. His left hand was probably flexed across his laptop like a pianist’s, while his right hand made notes on a pad.

‘So where to this time?’ Harry said.

‘The IFSC, and the client has asked especially for you. I told them you’re the best.’

‘Thanks, Dillon, you’re a gent.’ Now she was glad of the kitten heels. The International Financial Services Centre was definitely upmarket.

‘Call me when you’ve finished,’ Dillon said. ‘We’ll grab some dinner and you can fill me in.’

She felt her eyes widen. Doubly glad of the kitten heels. ‘Okay.’ Before she could let herself wonder what dinner might mean, she said, ‘So tell me more about the IFSC job. Do we know what kind of systems they have?’

‘Nope, you’ll find all that out when you meet them …’ Dillon paused. ‘If you ask me, I think they want to look you over first.’

Harry stopped in the middle of the pavement. ‘Why would they want to do that?’

Dillon hesitated for just a second too long. ‘Look, maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all. Maybe I’ll put Imogen on to it.’

Harry stuck a hand over her ear to block out the din of traffic. ‘Okay, what’s going on here? Who’s the client?’

She heard him suck in air through his teeth as he thought about his answer.

‘All right, it was a stupid idea,’ he said. ‘It’s KWC.’

The adrenaline shot out of Harry’s system like water from a burst main. She stumbled over to the canal wall and sank back on to the cold stone.

KWC. Klein, Webberly and Caulfield, one of the most prestigious investment banks in the city, servicing some of the wealthiest individuals and corporations in Europe. It was headquartered in New York, with offices in London, Frankfurt and Tokyo, as well as here in Dublin.

It was also the company her father had worked for before they sent him to prison.

4 (#u3b73707e-90e5-5479-9343-230970466da0)

‘Give me your worst-case scenario,’ Harry said.

The man across the boardroom table looked at her through half-closed eyes. He was in his forties, with bristly grey hair cut like a US Marine’s.

He shrugged. ‘Someone getting access to our investment accounts.’

‘Worse than that.’

He leaned back and folded his arms, flesh straining against his shirt. ‘What could be worse than some hacker getting hold of our clients’ money?’

‘You tell me.’ Harry sneaked a look at the business card he’d given her. Felix Roche, IT Procurement, KWC. She scribbled a note on the back: hostile.

Her gaze strayed to the window behind Felix. It wasn’t just a window, it was an entire wall of glass that made the quays along the Liffey seem like part of the room. In the distance, she could see the peppermint green dome of the Custom House and the corrugated cap of Liberty Hall tower. Business must be good for KWC.

Felix leaned forward across the table. ‘Okay, I’ll give you a worst case,’ he said. Harry could smell the onions he’d had for lunch. ‘How about someone getting a look at our confidential M&A deals? That bad enough for you?’

M&A. Mergers and Acquisitions. The department her father had worked for before he was arrested. Harry swallowed and fiddled with her notepad. Then she flicked a glance at Felix. His pasty face looked unhealthy, like the underbelly of a dead fish. She was used to antagonism from the technical guys, but this was something different. She’d told Dillon she could handle this assignment, that KWC was just another client. Now she wasn’t so sure.

The door swept open and a man in his thirties strode into the room. He was well-built, with light brown hair and shoulders that belonged on a rugby pitch.

Felix scowled at the interruption.

‘Hi, Felix, I’m sitting in.’ The man frowned at Harry as he pulled up a chair.

Her cheeks tingled under his gaze. What was up with these guys? She squared her shoulders and stood up.

‘Harry Martinez.’ She held out her hand.

His brow cleared and he grinned. ‘Sorry, I was expecting a man. Probably happens all the time, right?’ He returned her handshake. ‘Jude Tiernan. I’m an investment banker here.’

His hand was warm and his citrus aftershave perked up the room. What was an investment banker doing at an IT meeting? Then she remembered Felix’s barbed comment about M&A deals.

‘Let me guess,’ she said. ‘You work for M&A?’

‘Let’s say M&A work for me.’

Harry sank back down and worked it out. So he was Head of M&A, just like her father had been. One man’s prison sentence was another man’s career break. She felt their eyes on her, invading her. Her father was a legend in this bank. Had they made the connection and come to look her over? She chewed her lip, unable to meet their gaze.

Jude set his mobile phone on the desk and took a silver pen from his breast pocket. He twirled it between the fingers of one hand and gestured towards Harry with the other. ‘Please continue.’

‘I was really expecting someone from IT Security to be here,’ said Harry. ‘Someone who knows the systems.’

Felix snorted. ‘IT Security. I know these systems better than anyone. I practically built the damn machines myself.’

‘I see.’ Harry checked the card again. ‘And now you’re in IT Procurement?’

He glared at her. ‘The career move came up. Security were more than happy to let me handle this initial meeting, believe me. Saves them the trouble.’

Harry took a deep breath. She looked at her pad, although she’d written nothing down.

‘Okay, well, I don’t know how much Dillon covered with you on this,’ she said. Not much, from the looks of things. ‘We need to scope the penetration test, see which approach suits you best.’

Know the players at the table, her father had taught her. Adjust your style accordingly. Trouble was, she didn’t know these guys at all, and they weren’t giving her any clues.

‘A pen test is a waste of time,’ said Felix. ‘Our systems are secure, I can personally guarantee it.’ He glowered at Harry. ‘Anyone who says otherwise is challenging my professional competence.’