This is Episode 11 in the Diary of a Detectress series. For previous episodes, please follow these links:
Episide 2 – Student record not found
Episide 3 – First steps towards success
Episode 7 – The explanation of a lifetime
Episode 8 – Tracking down a hacker
Episode 9 – What happens when you mess with the future
Dear Diary,
Adam told me to identify the agent at the dinner, but as much as I kept my eyes open and stared at people, none of them was wearing a helpful “It’s me!” badge.
Nor was anyone acting suspiciously, for example looking furtively over their shoulder before sneaking through a fire escape door.
Dammit, how on earth should a normal person like me recognize someone whose JOB it is to stay hidden?
Does this mean that I failed the task? Adam didn’t say what would happen if I didn’t spot the agent the first time around. He must have been so impressed with my success on the previous task that he trusted me to pass this one with flying colours. Instead, I’m crawling away from the finish line in 50 shades of no luck.
Maybe they’re still hiring at Tesco’s.
I woke up with a brilliant idea! My secret agent career might not be over just yet.
Layla took tons of photos of the event and perhaps there’s something in the scenes she captured that will help me to identify the agent.
Spurred on by my enthusiasm, I just went and knocked on her bedroom door without checking what time it was. Dylan answered the door. He didn’t look very happy. Or very awake. One glimpse of his glowering face and I decided that my errand could wait. Just looked at the clock and realised that it’s only 7:50am. Oops.
So here I am sitting in the kitchen instead. Layla’s camera is lying on the table but I hardly like to touch it in case I do something wrong and accidentally wipe the memory card.
I’m on my second coffee when Katie bounces into the kitchen. “Hey Sophie!” she enthuses. Must be a fine day for science.
She opens her mouth to say something else, but then her attention is caught by the coffee machine. Frowning, she darts over to fiddle with the settings, her dark, curly head bowed in concentration as she squints 2 inches away from the display.
I watch her in bemusement. “You’re welcome to take some coffee. I made a pot.”
No response.
Suddenly, she turns on me. “Did you disrupt the heat immersion ratio?”
I’m taken aback. “What?”
She sighs. “It’s ok if you did Sophie, but I’d just like to point out that the water temperature and filter timing have a significant impact on the intensity and flavour of the coffee. Layla and I worked out the optimal settings together and we prefer to keep it that way.”
Her stare is seriously intimidating and I shake my head emphatically. “Honestly Katie, I haven’t changed any settings. I only pushed the start button.” Then something strikes me. “We brought a friend back here for a coffee late last night. Maybe he changed something?” I have a vague memory of Ethan messing with the buttons on the machine.
“Hmm. Obviously someone with no regard for well-made coffee.” The disruption to her well-ordered existence has obviously ruined her morning. I notice that she doesn’t take any of the sub-optimal coffee. Instead, she pours herself a bowl of muesli, adding various types of seeds from neatly labelled jars.
Eventually, she joins me at the table, asking “so how are you, Sophie?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” I say, casting another glance at Layla’s camera.
Katie notices my fidgeting. “Did Layla take pictures last night? I heard you all went to the university dinner”
Word travels fast. “Yes, that’s right.”
She’s scrutinizing me. “How did you get a ticket? I thought you’d given up studying. Did Layla get it for you?”
I shake my head. “No actually I got it from a… a friend. I went out of interest. It’s sort of fun watching all those people do their thing at an event like that. A glimpse into another world. Do you know what I mean?”
She beams at me. “Oh yes, I know exactly what you mean. I love studying human behaviour and spotting patterns.”
Her words give me an idea. “Katie, do you think you could help me with something? I have an idea about Layla’s pictures. When she wakes up I was going to analyse them to see whether I can find out something.”
The magic “A” word does the trick. Her smile grows even wider. “Oh yes, Sophie, I’d love to help you. Shall we look at them now?” She picks up Layla’s camera, carelessly dropping the lens cap as she does.
“No of course not!” cries Katie. “She likes people admiring her pictures. Now what was it you wanted to find out?” She’s turned the camera on and has started scrolling through the photos. The last few are of the end of the evening when Layla, Dylan and I brought Ethan back here for a drink. She skips through those and finds the ones from the glamorous gala dinner.
It’s clear that Layla has outdone herself with the photography. The shots are expertly focused and beautifully composed, capturing various attendees and members of the university board as they grimace and gesture earnestly at each other, locked deep in discussion.
I realise Katie’s looking at me expectantly, still waiting for an answer to her question. “Oh, right,” I say, improvising fast. “Well… it’s like this. I mean we know why most people go to an event like that, don't we?" She nods hesitantly and I continue. "For the big names and high profile alumni, it’s all about networking and visibility. But then a few people like Layla were there to work," I pause, wondering how to phrase it. "I was thinking... maybe there were even people there for other reasons. Like me for example. I was just there to look at everyone and experience the atmosphere. I wondered..." I gesture helplessly. "Well, I wondered if anyone else was there for other reasons, and I thought maybe we could tell people's motives by looking at their body language. It sounds stupid, doesn't it?”
For a moment Katie stares at me and I wonder if I’ve lost her, or worse, blown my cover, then she draws in a breath. “Oh no, Sophie that’s such an INTERESTING idea. Let’s have a look from the start!”
Giggling excitedly, she cuddles next to me on the bench seat and we go slowly through the pictures, occasionally stopping to discuss some of the attendees. After just a few photos, Katie stops on a particular one. It shows people applauding one of the speakers who has just finished a speech and is descending from the podium.
“That guy.” Katie says, pointing to a guy in a red dinner jacket sitting between two voluptuous older ladies.
I don’t see anything unusual about him. “What’s special about him?”
She flicks through a few photos of the same scene. “Just look at his gaze. Everyone else is looking at the woman who’s just finished speaking, but this guy isn’t. He’s watching that other man down the table.” She points out another male guest wearing a standard tuxedo who seems to be the object of red dinner-jacket guy’s glance.
We go through the photos and in almost every case, the red jacket guy doesn't seem to be participating in the main event. None of the photos show him joining in the networking or chatting that the other guests are indulging in. He's always standing by himself and watching the room. Could he be the one?
Strange that I don't remember seeing him. I would have thought someone like that would stand out. Especially as he seems to be doing exactly what I was doing at the event and just watching people. How did he escape notice so effectively?
“Hey guys, what are you doing?” Layla strolls into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. She comes up behind us and sticks her head between us, spreading her arms across our shoulders. “Is that my camera?”
“We’re just admiring your genius,” I say. “Can I have copies of some of these photos? Pretty please?”
“Sure,” she says, yawning. “I’ll send you a link to the folder when I upload them onto my cloud drive and you can take the ones you want."
“Excellent!”
I’m not totally sure that the red jacket guy is the agent from Adam’s organisation but it’s the best lead I have for the moment. I’ll just have to give it a try as soon as I get the photos.
This is an original piece, written for Steemit by @Victoria-Kelly. Thanks for reading!
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