Page 7 of The Attercop

Charlie raised his left eyebrow. “You can never be too prepared.”

Michael logged in, then gave her chair up to Charlie. “And remember, these are confidential files, so only look at what you have to. As it is, I’m breaking a lot of rules.”

Charlie smiled. “I promise, this is just a quick skim. Did you work on your files last night remotely?”

Michael shook her head. “Nope.”

“That’s good. I can look through your computer log by time-codes, so it will only show me activity between last night and today when you didn’t have any appointments.”

He pulled out his key ring and flipped to a USB stick which he inserted into the computer. Charlie quietly typed away doing what Declan knew Charlie did best.

As Charlie worked, Declan turned to Michael. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to involve the police in this. And there doesn’t appear to be any real damage that would need reporting to your insurance company other than the window.”

“Thank God,” Michael said. “You know how many of my clients are cops. I wouldn’t want to jeopardise that by letting them know their records aren’t as secure as I’d hoped.”

“Done,” Charlie said, pulling out his USB key. “There is only one session logged, which happened close to three in the morning. And only one computer folder has been accessed—Declan’s. It looks like they made a copy of his files.”

“I am so sorry,” she said to Declan. “I’ll report this to my governing body. I should have had higher security on…well, everything.”

Declan paused. “You don’t need to do that. If I’m the only one affected, I’ll handle this on my own. I don’t want to get you in trouble. And I definitely don’t want to have to start with another therapist. It took me long enough to get used to you.”

Michael hugged him. “Thank you.”

“I think it might be a good idea to check for fingerprints,” Charlie suggested. “If the person left them anywhere, it would probably be on the mouse.”

“Go for it,” Declan said.

Charlie reached into his satchel and pulled out a clear plastic zip-top bag containing a round plastic jar with a screw top lid, and a soft bristle brush. He deftly dipped the brush into the fine-black-powdered contents of the jar, then lightly brushed the surface of the mouse, covering the top, sides and buttons.

“Nothing,” he said. He removed a facial tissue from the box on Michael’s desk, and lay the mouse upside down on it and proceeded to dust the bottom.

“Hm. Clean.”

He spun the desk chair around. “One more likely possibility.”

He moved over to the filing cabinet and performed the same procedure on the cabinet lock and the surface of the cabinet surrounding it.

He looked up at Declan. “They’ve been wiped clean of fingerprints,” Charlie said. “I don’t think there’s any point in dusting the rest of the office. This person obviously knew what they were doing.”

Charlie continued. “I know your sessions are confidential, but if you can think of any of your clients who might have shown a particular interest in Declan when you were talking to them…well, if there’s a way you can let us know about that…give us a call. I mean, there is a bit of bad blood between Declan and some of the police from the past. It might have been one of your clients from the force.”

Michael nodded. “I’ll give it some thought, but no one springs to mind at the moment.”

Declan smiled. Charlie was really growing into a fine private investigator. “There’s not much more we can do right now. In the meantime, upgrade the security system. Get glass breakage and motion detectors. Move the old files that don’t have to be accessed regularly to an off-site secure facility and, Charlie, can you email Michael specs on a new, more secure computer?”

“Will do,” Charlie replied.

“Good,” Declan said, taking a deep breath. “We’ll keep each other in the loop if anything develops. Okay?”

Michael impulsively hugged each of them. “Okay. And thanks.”

Declan and Charlie made their way back to the car and sat in silence before Charlie fired up the engine. Charlie looked at Declan. “Should we be a little more concerned than we’re pretending to be?”

Declan frowned. “Probably.”

“So…any idea who’d be interested enough in you that they’d break into your shrink’s office and check out your records?”

Declan thought for a moment. “How long a list do you want?”