Chapter 25: Quest for the Questors

"The question is, can you do it?"

Word, it seemed was getting around about the willingness of Clegg Enterprises to take on apparently difficult projects. Peter Hananni was the latest of a series of individuals that had appeared with a range of challenges to Clegg's research and snatch teams.

"I was put on to you by a mutual friend. The Kalinin of Kushtia? He indicated that you had been able to help him out with some of his requirements."

"Yes," I said. "The Kalinin is a valued client of ours. I am pleased he speaks well of us. He said you would call." I wasn't clear how Hananni and the Kalinin were connected. Hananni looked to be of north African origin, Egyptian or Libyan possibly, I thought. He sported a style in dress and personal jewellery that left no one in doubt of the material success his business endeavours had achieved.

"He does indeed but as I said, the question is, can you do this?" He smiled. He had almost as much gold in his mouth as on his knuckles.

"Well, Mr Hananni, I won't give you an answer off the cuff. Give me a week and I'll come back to you with a proposal or a no-can-do. I am sure you realise that this is going to need some level of ingenuity to execute."

"Of course, Mr Ross," said Hananni, disarmingly, "That's why the Kalinin suggested I talk to you. And why Mr Ross, I am most keen that you should handle this personally."

'This' was on the face of it a fairly demanding project. Hananni had a new business venture in hand; a game in which players gambled on the one to emerge victorious from a labyrinth of problems, dangers and other competitors. The game would be staged on a remote island. The competition was to be based on a popular computer game in which four buxom adventuresses strive to find the fabled Jewels of Nefertiti. My client's request was quite simple he wanted us to supply the Jewel Questors; the actual Jewel Questors; the characters that the game was based on.

The only problem was that, for the first time since I'd joined Clegg, the Research team had drawn a blank.

Derek Johnson in the Research Centre was looking glum. "Larry, I'd like to help but I don't see how we can. I'll tell you what we've got but it isn't much."

I wasn't that happy with the prospect of going back to the client and saying 'no can do' but I let him go on.

"Jewel Questors is developed and published by NRT Games. They're a British company and their development takes place here in the UK. They've controlled the franchise very tightly, hardly any merchandising of the characters, no spin offs at all. If you want to get into the game, you have to buy the game. It's been the most successful NRT product but Jewel Questors III — The Amarna Ring didn't get the greatest of reviews. Their competitive edge was that they use very accurate physical modelling for the animation and personality modelling for the interactions and responses and they did this by using four real individuals as the basis for their programming. I understand that it is these individuals that your client is keen to acquire?"

I nodded.

"The problem is that no-one know exactly who they are. The legends on the message boards say that they are NRT employees who were working in their development team when the game was devised. It's also reckoned that the company paid to have breast augmentation surgery so that they would better match the interests of the game's target players."

"Adolescent males of any age?"

"Uh huh. So the four women that are used to model the game characters and who do the very, very few, personal appearances have never spoken publicly and we haven't been able to find out who they are. We've been watching the company offices but seen no sign of them"

"So is there anything known on the company that would help?"

"Not much. It's a private limited company so they don't have to give out much apart from publishing accounts which don't really tell us much. All we do know is that the second largest, shareholder, one of the founders and the Development Director is this lady." He tossed a grainy photograph, obviously a blow up from a telephoto shot, across the desk. "Helen Stanhope, 43 and as far as we can tell the only person that has direct involvement with the Questors. She's there at any event where the Questors do appear and it's only ever her that's there from the company."

"OK, maybe some sort of in, there."

"Well maybe, but she's going to be difficult to get at. She's more of a geek than her team is. Home — work — home; lives in an apartment in an old mansion that's been renovated, trouble is the place is stiff with CCTV — and yes we've seen if we can crack it and the answer is no — and security. Seems like she's one nervous lady. But maybe that's what working on these games does for you."

It wasn't looking hopeful. I was groping around for some leverage. "Husband? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Kids? Aged aunt?"

"Not that we've found. She divorced about twenty years ago, no kids; parents died about five years back in a car crash; doesn't look like she has a social life outside the office or inside it either." I was feeling glummer by the minute. "There is however, this." He tossed me another photo.

The woman in the picture was in her mid twenties. She looked like a younger version of Helen. "Sister?" I said.

"Yeah," said Derek. "Andromeda Stanhope."

"Andromeda? What was with their parents? Too many holidays in Greece?"

"There are some limits even to the capabilities of the Research Team, Ross," said Derek, investing his remarks with all the pomposity of Q admonishing James Bond. But then he grinned. "We've no idea. But it would appear that younger sister is both accessible and a potential lever. She and big sis don't meet up much but they do exchange emails every day, sometimes four of five times a day."