Invasion of Privacy: A Deep Web Thriller #1 (Deep Web Thriller Series) by Ian Sutherland Read Free Book Online Page A

order himself a grande caffè latte made her think he’d stretched the truth a bit.
    Someone knocked at the door behind them. DC Fiona Jones leant on the doorframe, her black bob neatly in place, precision-cut fringe unaffected by the weather. Fiona had been appointed to Da Silva’s team just a month ago; her first detective post. She was eager to please, worked long hours, and seemed to have already become ‘one of the boys’ without losing her femininity – a rare achievement. 
    Jenny still felt bedraggled from the soaking she had endured running between her car and the Flexbase office building. As she’d arrived on the twelfth floor to meet up with Da Silva, Jenny had spotted the ladies’ toilets and dived in, relieved to spot a hand dryer rather than paper towels. She’d contorted herself under its downwards blast of hot air, and managed to dry out her blouse, grey suit, shoes and even her hair. A retouch of lipstick and mascara and she’d felt ready to re-join the investigation. But seeing Fiona still made her feel inadequate. Jenny wondered how she managed to stay perfectly pristine all the time. 
    “I checked out WMA Associates as you asked, Jenny,” said Fiona. “They’ve got nothing to do with music. They’re a tax audit firm. Apparently, WMA stands for Wilfred MacDonald Advisors. I’ve got Lawrence MacDonald here. He says he runs the London practice. His dad is Wilfred MacDonald, but he retired years ago.”
    “Okay. Bring him in,” said Da Silva.
    Fiona returned with a middle-aged man, so dull and grey that if Jenny had had to guess his occupation, accountant would have been top of the list. The only exception was the flash of luminescent green from the frames of his designer glasses.
    “Is it true about the poor girl? Some kind of murder?” he asked.
    Jenny looked Fiona in the eye, but she shook her head.
    “What makes you say murder, Mr MacDonald?”
    “Only because of the questions the press asked me as I arrived at the office a few minutes ago.”
    “Shit!” Da Silva stood up, leaned on the window and stared down twelve floors. Jenny had never heard him swear before. “I’d better sort this out before it gets out of hand. Detective Inspector Price, you take it from here. Excuse me, Mr MacDonald.” Taking his mobile phone from his pocket, he left the office. His coffee was left on the desk.
    “Did the press say her name?” asked Jenny, standing so as not to be the only one left sitting down.
    “No? Please tell me it wasn’t one of my employees.”
    “No, we don’t believe so. Her name was Anna Parker. Do you know her?” 
    “Sorry, no.” 
    “What about a W. Webber?”
    MacDonald thought for a minute. “No. Not a name I recognise. Should I?”
    “The signing-in book has a W. Webber from your company down for the victim’s arrival last Friday evening. Do you know anyone with the surname Webber? A friend? A client, perhaps? A supplier? Someone who knows WMA?”
    MacDonald thought for a moment. “None that comes to mind. But we can go downstairs and check our contacts database if you like.”
    Fiona said, “Thanks. Let’s do that in a few minutes.”
    Jenny walked up and down the length of the window. She slowly articulated a line of thought that was forming in her mind. “Okay, let’s assume this Webber person was pretending to be from your company. How could he do that? He’s booked a meeting room. And yet you know nothing about it?”
    At that moment, Jenny saw Alan through the interior glass wall of the office, accompanied by Evans. She waved them over.
    “No, why should I? Any of my staff can book a meeting room. We just phone reception.” 
    Alan and Evans entered the office. 
    Jenny said to the building manager, “Walk me through how you book a meeting room in this place.”
    Evans ignored Jenny. “Hello, Mr MacDonald. I’d like to apologise for this inconvenience. I’m sure we’ll have everything back to normal in an hour or so.”
    Jenny wanted to slap