Chapter 14

“Don’t take it too literally, Jeeves. I am merely considering emergency measures at this time.”

“Very well, Miss Frobisher. I shall look out for you, should it prove necessary.”

She smiled sweetly at me. “That sounds fine, Jeeves. Can we leave it at that, for now?”

“We can. You got the inventory data installed on the office computer?”

“I did that; including the section you left password-protected. I take it Mr. Dawes will have access?”

“He has, and can alter the password to suit himself.”

“Fine. I was confirming that surmise.”

Everyone in the household was by now treating me as a friend, except for Mrs. Dawes. She still had this view of employees as semi slaves who had to be paid for their continuing servitude. The idea of an employee being a friend was anathema to her, and remained so. Some people cannot change, it seems.

Mr. Dawes, in contrast, regarded me with almost an avuncular attitude. He saw me as the trained expert whose abilities could be made use of, and who will perform at his best if metaphorically patted on the head.

Neither of the sons had ever appeared at the house, and must be presumed still preoccupied with their studies in the USA. As an unknown factor to me, I preferred it that way.

It was therefore a surprise when Dawes informed me, “Jeeves, we can expect a visitor today or tomorrow. He will give the name John Smith. You can admit him to my study when he arrives.”

“Very good, sir,” I responded.

Something was up. We had never before, since I arrived, had any mysterious visitors. This one must be related to Dawes’ past criminal activities, though whether the visitor will be delivering a warning or passing on approval, we shall have to wait and see.”

That afternoon, Jones informed me that there was a car at the gate. “The driver says it is a John Smith to see Mr. Dawes.”

“He is expected, Mr. Jones. Let him though and I shall meet him at the door.”

I progressed to the front door, and as soon as the bell was rung, I swung the door open. “Yes? Who shall I say is calling?”

“John Smith for Mr. Dawes, sonny. Go fetch him.”

“If you will accompany me, Mr. Smith, I am requested to convey you to his study.”

“So why can’t he come out here?”

“I believe the concept of privacy is involved in his decision, sir.”

“Oh? I suppose so. Lead on, McDuff.”

I refrained from correcting his quote, as I did not think it would be appreciated. I escorted him to the study, and knocked on the door. “Mr. Smith is here, sir.” I announced loudly, though I knew Dawes would have his cctv monitor on.

The door swung inwards, and Dawes stood there. “Come in, Mr. Smith. That will be all, Jeeves.” He didn’t even look at me. I was dismissed.

“Thank you, sir.” I responded and left as the door was closed behind them. I would not hear anything about their discussion, it seemed. I retired to the reception office, to wait.

A while later, the study door opened and Dawes called out, “Jeeves, see the man out!”

Oh-oh! That did not sound happy, with Mr. Smith not being given his name. I hurried over and gestured to Mr. Smith to come to the front door with me. He looked annoyed, but accompanied me without comment. I opened the front door, and stood by it as he exited slowly. It was almost as if he wished to say something more, but daren’t.

I closed the door, then got on the intercom to Jones. “The visitor is leaving now, Mr. Jones.”

“Thanks, Jeeves. I have them on screen. This new system is a big improvement. It shows me the front door as well as what is happening at the gate. Did you know they fitted a couple of cameras covering the back garden, too?”

“I believe that was mentioned, Mr. Jones. Please confirm that Mr. Smith’s car has left the grounds.”

“The car has just left, Jeeves. Occupants, two persons, matching entry. Job done.”

“Excellent, Mr. Jones. Your efficiency is to be admired.” I could almost hear his smile at that praise.

Now that the visitor had left, I hoped to get some idea of what had transpired. I decided I should report to Mr. Dawes. I went back to the study door, and declared, “Mr. Dawes, the visitors have left the grounds. Do you require anything else, sir?”

The door flew open. “Come inside, Jeeves, and shut the door.” Dawes was unhappy. I did as he asked, and turned to face him, my face expressing interest. He started pacing the room, and spoke as he did so.

“Jeeves, if money goes missing from bank accounts, what can you conclude?”

I paused for reflection, then said, “It would depend on the occasion, sir. I presume the word ‘missing’ implies sums vanishing rather than physically robbing the bank?”

“Exactly so, Jeeves. How can such things happen?”

“There are possibilities, sir. If a password was involved, another person may have obtained the password and used it. Similarly, if a key is required, could the key have been copied or stolen? A similar consideration is attached to the use of a swipe card.

There is another, more extreme possibility: that of digital theft; but that is a much more sophisticated operation, usually involving a member of the bank staff for a successful extraction. There may be clues in that the choice of accounts may reflect particular knowledge only available to a specific bank employee.

I apologise if I sound like a security expert, sir. I am not such a person. I merely apply my army training in observation and techniques in approaching the enemy from unexpected directions. It is amazing how relevant that can be in a variety of circumstances.”

“I appreciate your comments, Jeeves. The accounts in question are not mine, but those of a former colleague, who has raised suspicions that I might have had something to do with it. I take on your interesting suggestions, and will pass them on to my former colleague for further investigation. I don’t have to tell you that I had nothing to do with it.”

“The thought was never in my mind, sir. Criminal activity is normally attempted by those persons short of the readies, and you do not fall into that category, sir.”

He laughed heartily at my pathetic joke, as if relieved that the pressure was off him. He had a thought and asked me, “Do your observations solely apply to the banks, Jeeves?”

“Normally, yes, sir. It is mostly a matter of scale. Most secure facilities will have similar forms of protection, like a house has a safe; a mansion has a larger safe; and a bank has a vault to hold the valuables. The principle remains the same, but the access procedures increase in complexity as size increases. Complexity brings its own problems. Sometimes interference with a safe causes the safe to lock down, such that it can only be opened by a locksmith; or a bank vault may go into a time lock, permitting it to be opened only during bank opening hours, when security staff will be present. These are physical problems, but many of the faults of bank security are due to human failings, such as a bank manager having his family kidnapped, and he then having to open the vault for the kidnappers. There are many possibilities, sir.”

Dawes frowned. “But this is a different kettle of fish, Jeeves. The cash simply vanished from the account. That is what is astonishing.”

“Oh.” I reflected a moment. “That is an unusual occurrence, sir. It sounds like a digital theft of some kind. A card with a bar code can be copied, but the code is also usually embedded in the card as an electronic signal.” I took a moment before my next suggestion.

“Banks now operate digitally, as a routine measure. That may be at the heart of it. An electronic bank transfer is simply a digital transaction from one account to another. No actual cash is moved, just the crediting of the cash amount.

Might the missing cash have been transferred to another account without the bank’s systems being aware of it? If there is no record of the transaction, that does not mean there was no transaction; merely that there is no record of such a transaction. The money has not disappeared, but has gone elsewhere. Software can be amended, corrupted, or otherwise rewritten. You would have to consult a security expert about software interference, but that sounds to me a strong possibility, sir.”

Dawes’s eyes had lit up. “You mean, there is no cash actually missing; merely the representation of the cash?”

I grimaced. “Technically speaking, sir, all cash is simply a representation. Coins are not physically of the value stated on them. They, and banknotes, are merely promises by the bank to pay the bearer that value. In the same way, digital money is a representation of cash value. Imagine it like a bank book with an amount in it. That bankbook is not the amount; it is a guarantee that the specific amount is recorded to your name and will be paid to you on production of the bank book. The digital bank statement is likewise a mere representation of a promise. Digits can be moved around and also made to disappear.

Someone has managed to do this vanishing act of moving the digital record elsewhere, so that the cash value is spirited away. Not actual cash, but the representation of that cash value.”

“Can the bank be sued for the loss, then?” Dawes wanted to know.

“I very much doubt it, sir. Banks normally have clauses in their regulations saying that they have no legal responsibility for sums deposited with them, unless a loss is caused through negligence by the bank, or actual harm through the actions of a bank employee. Proving that missing cash was removed in such a way that the bank was negligent is a dubious pathway, and to say that an employee caused it, requires you to prove how it happened. It could take years to establish a legal case for recovery of assets.

As a matter of interest, sir, the tax authorities might also ask searching questions about the finances that were held in the name of your colleagues. The police might also take an interest in the financial assets. I do not suggest that these assets arrived in an illegal way. I merely posit the facts as they might be considered by the authorities.”

“I see. Jeeves, you are an eye-opening walking fund of knowledge. What would be your opinion of physical assets, such as artwork, jewellery, or ancient artefacts?”

I tilted my head as if pondering the question, then came out with, “Physical objects are not susceptible to extraction through digital technology, as one would expect, sir. The trouble with physical assets is that they have no intrinsic cash value until they are exposed to sale.

Your Egyptian artefacts, for example, sat in tombs for millennia, and while there had no cash value. It was only when humans transferred ownership that a value was established. A rare postage stamp is just a piece of paper with an impression stamped on it. It is the rarity, in its context of stamp collecting, that gives it value. Similarly, your Egyptian collection has value only when sold.”

“You give me a bit of a downer at times, Jeeves, but at least you are clear about such assets. As objects, they only have value at the point of sale. I can see that. Like houses, their value can go up or down, depending on the market.”

“You do understand, sir. I merely offered clarification of the basics.”

“You did that, Jeeves. Thank you.”

“Will that be all, sir?”

He agreed, and dismissed me.

I left with alacrity, before he could think about, and ask me, who might be involved in such depredations, and why? I didn’t want him thinking that way; not the idea of subversion of any kind. Keep him on the bank robbery approach.

On that train of thought, I buzzed upstairs to Miss Frobisher. “Frobisher”, she answered.

“Jeeves here. A warning. Some friend of Mr. Dawes had his bank account cleared out, with Mr Dawes as one of the suspects, best as I could judge, so Mr. Dawes is not in the best of moods.”

“Got you. Thanks for the advance notice. Bye.”

I next went to the kitchen, to brief chef. She was preparing meat for the oven, or something. I went over to her, to speak quietly.

“Chef, Mr. Dawes is in a bad mood. It has to do with money, so steer clear of discussion at table, and do your best over the next couple of meals, to improve his mood. Has he any favourites?”