Bitcoins are made by ‘mining’ (I’d have to talk about that as it’s not with a pick and shovel) and believe me, to mine one needs a great deal of computer power. It takes time, making some more valuable than others. As I say, that is a fascinating area of study but unnecessary to understand fully at this stage.
I’ve added links should you not be able to sleep and you need something soporific to help … read these!
Theory One: Our man invested his own money in these coins. Two laptops, one he kept safe and possibly hidden unless seen by a nosy landlady. Whether he’s worth a fortune we might never know unless we find them.
Theory Two: People heard about his investments and tortured him to get to them. If he made a fortune initially, withdrew it as cash and then invested again when the coins went rock bottom, he’d still have a tidy sum. To get to it they’d need his passwords, his bank account and knowledge of the worth of his investment.
Theory Three: He’s been shifting their money into his accounts short term, making a fast buck and quickly withdrawing the funds. That way he retains their cash but makes more. At first when the stock was rising rapidly, he might have thought he was onto a winner but with a sudden crash … What do gamblers do? They push more in and keep their fingers crossed. It’s an addiction and when you’re playing with criminal proceeds you could get your fingers burned or possibly in his case … removed!
Anyway, hypothetical rambling from a copper working the late shift but one based on facts from this case. It’s now yours. By the time you’re reading this I shall be in bed.
Michael
April read it through again, twice. In some ways she could see the logic, particularly in the third theory. She had seen avarice destroy coppers let alone criminals. An initial run of good luck can turn anyone; people who do not seem to have two pennies to rub together buying lottery tickets when there is more chance of being hit by a meteor than winning the jackpot. She was not foolish enough to believe people needed a light at the end of the tunnel. If it were the person’s money they could do with it as they pleased but if it were not … She would also run it past those in the dedicated Cyber Crime department to see if the theories were credible.
Within minutes she had sent the file to her team and her boss in the hope that it would speed the warrant to get into the Tolands’ apartment.
Bob Lawn watched the CCTV images taken on the date of the The Dawn Lady’s docking. Security at the hotel had been cleared to allow him access to the garage parking CCTV for the area used by the cruise company and long-stay customers. Should it prove useful to the enquiry, he would seek to get it copied for evidence, like he had done with the ship and the dock. He was fortunate to know the exact time Arthur Brinkman left the terminal area and could find that point on the recording with ease. He had also tracked the car and its registration; a white Skoda Superb. Within two minutes of the recording starting, he saw Brinkman, case in hand, approaching the lift. He appeared on the fourth level. Bob could clearly identify the Skoda even though it had been parked in a corner as far from the camera as possible. The next move both surprised and excited him. The indicators on the car positioned next to Brinkman’s illuminated and flashed twice. The case was put into the boot. He appeared to remove a small bag before the lights flashed again, this time more quickly. He locked the car. The Skoda’s lights then performed a similar ritual. Within five minutes Brinkman was heading for the ramp that would take him to the exit.
Bob made notes of the times from the markings to the bottom of the video. They were to the second. What he needed now was to find when that car in which he deposited the case left. Somehow, he felt it was going to be a long day.
April and Brad sat further down the road from the familiar address, that of the Tolands. They both knew the hostility they were about to face but it was a job that had to be done. They had organised members of a specialist search team who, through experience, knew where to look. It was experience backed by scientific, social and psychological training. People, they had told April, tend to follow similar patterns, and by knowing and analysing those you could become extremely efficient in performing the job.
Looking in the rear-view mirror, Brad saw the van pull in behind. He eased the car forward affording them more room. April climbed out and walked to the van.
‘Give us fifteen minutes or so. We’ll give you a shout. This will go one of two ways but from meeting her before, I’ve a strong hunch which way that will be.’ She pulled a face and ran a finger across her throat.
Brad left the car and they approached the front door. The Aspidistra was still in the window.
‘Bet that’s frightened of bloody wilting,’ Brad remarked, ‘no matter how close to death it gets.’
April pushed the bell. Within seconds, a face appeared by the moving curtain next to the plant. It was Francis, the husband. Moments later the door opened.
‘Mrs Toland, DI Decent and DC Bradshaw. May we come in?’
Moving aside, Eileen Toland did not let her face slip. She wiped her hands on her apron and pointed to the mat. Brad immediately complied and wiped his feet.
‘Go through to your left and take a seat.’ The tone of her voice was sharp and direct leaving them in no doubt of her
