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'Without making the proper payments through the accounts department,you mean? Why... yes.'
Spence was beginning to follow her line of enquiry.
'You think that Charles Collingridge's details were falsely entered from aterminal within this building, Miss Storin? Yes, it could be done. Look.'
Within a few seconds the screen was showing a comprehensiveliterature subscription in the name of 'M Mouse Esq, 99 DisneylandMiami.'
'But you couldn't get away with backdating it to the beginning of the yearbecause... What a stupid fool I am! Of course!' he exploded, and startedthrashing away at the keyboard. If you really know what you're doing,which very few people in this building do, you can tap into the mainframe subdirectory...'
His words were almost drowned in the clattering of the keys.
That gives access to the more restricted financial data.
So I can check the exact date when the account was paid, whether itwas paid by cheque or credit card, when the subscription was firststarted...'
The monitor screen started glowing.
'And those financial details can only be entered or altered by accountsdepartment staff with their security passwords'
He sat back to consider the details on the screen. He tapped a fewmore characters into the computer, and then turned to Mattie.
'Miss Storin. According to this, Mr Collingridge has never paid for theliterature service, this month or any month. His details only appear on thedistribution file, not the payment file.'
'Can you tell me when his name first appeared on the distribution file?'
A few more keystrokes.
'Jesus. Exactly two weeks ago today.'
'So someone in this building, not the accounts staff or anyone whounderstood computers very well, two weeks ago altered the file toinclude Charles Collingridge's name for the first time.'
This is terrible, Miss Storin...' Spence's face had gone white.
'Kevin, can you by any chance tell me who might have altered the file, orfrom which terminal it was altered?'
'Sadly, no. It could have been done from any terminal in this building. Thecomputer programme trusts us ...' He shook his head as if he had totally failed the most crucial test of his life.
'Don't worry, Kevin. We're on the trail. But I must ask you not to utter aword of this to anyone. I want to catch whoever did this, and if he knows we're looking he will cover his trail. Will you help me once more, andkeep quiet until I have something more to go on?'
'Who on earth would believe me, anyway?' he murmured.
SUNDAY 7th NOVEMBER
The newspapers that weekend were irritable. In the convention of leadership elections, candidates were discouraged from outright electioneering or making personal attacks on their rivals; the right leader was supposed somehow still to 'emerge' without any apparent effort on his part from a process of consensus rather than combat. So all the press had been left with for ten days was a series of coded messages which failed to inspire the public or ignite the hoped-for forest of press headlines. The campaign had not so much run out of steam; it had simply never generated any effective heat
So the press took it out on the candidates - they had no alternative. 'A disappointing and uninspiring campaign so far, still waiting for one of the candidates to breathe life back into the Party and Government', pronounced the Observer. Irrelevant and irritating', complained the Sunday Minor. Not to be outdone, the Sun in characteristic style described it all as 'flatulent, a passing breeze in the night'.
Far from allowing a thorough airing of the issues, as Urquhart had predicted to the Prime Minister, the lengthy campaign was suffering from a severe dose of boredom, as all along he had secretly hoped.
This came as little comfort to Mattie, who was finding her growing conviction that skulduggery was afoot matched only by her inability to find the opportunity to proceed with her investigations. Journalists have to work much harder when there is no news to report, and the flaccid leadership campaign was causing more than a few nightmares amongst the political lobby in their collective efforts to find new angles with which to fill their column inches.
You have to face it, Mattie, you still don't have a case' Johnnie told her. 'Fascinating circumstantial evidence about computers, perhaps, but what about the shares, what about the bank account, what about Paddington?'
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