Dying to Live

Chapter 12 - Best Friends Forever

London

Before Thailand

Three cups of coffee hadn't calmed my nerves, and not drinking the wine hadn't helped me come up with any great ideas. I hadn't even had so much as a bad idea. The Hermitage had been breathing for over an hour and I could hear it getting restless. A small glass wouldn't impair my thinking. Two glasses later, inspiration hit me. Well, not so much inspiration as inhibition reduction. I'd not mucked about with her phone because respecting her privacy seemed like the right thing to do. The wine was making me question that decision, or maybe it was just making me plain nosey. There's always a connection between wine and noses, apparently.

I turned it over in my hand, as if staring at both sides of it would help me make a decision. The black plastic looked impersonal and functional yet I knew it was private and personal to Hazel, like a diary. Guilt stopped me opening it up; guilt and a password. The guilt passed with a few more sips but the password proved to be more of a challenge.

M-I-B? After all it was a work phone.

H-A-Z-E-L? No.

M-E-T-C-A-L-F-E? No.

D-A-V-E? Wishful thinking.

When you see people guess passwords in movies it seems so easy but it's not so easy in the real world. I would have tried her date of birth, if I'd known it. Or her first pet's name, if I'd known it. Or the street she lived in, if I'd known it. All this just reminded me how little I knew about her, and also how much I cared about her. Maybe another few sips of wine would lubricate the thinking process.

Without warning, my stomach rumbled loudly. Hunger struck me. The munchies had arrived. My broken microwave meant the oven was the only option and therefore pizza was the obvious snack of choice. I popped a meat feast straight onto the oven shelf and set the timer for forty-five minutes.

While I was waiting, I Googled 'cracking password on iPhone'. WOW. There were loads of hits which explained easy ways to bypass the Password Lock screen. A lot of them seemed to involve using the Home button to call up Siri, Apple's interactive electronic help assistant and using her to open an App. It seemed too simple so I wasn't hopeful.

"Okay, Siri, let's go," I said as I followed the suggested steps and hey, success. Yes. Yes. We're in. Unbelievable. I gave a couple of full-blown cowboy whoops and did a little dance as a way of thanking Mr Google for his assistance and Apple for making Siri so helpful when it comes to cracking fruit-based security.

So far so good but what next?

Easy, first things first, who called at three o'clock this morning? The number wasn't withheld and there was a name against it; RON. So, who the hell was RON and why was he phoning her in the middle of the night? Only one way to find out. I noted the number, popped it into my own phone so I could hide the caller's identity. I probably could have done it from Hazel's phone but I wasn't sure if 'Withhold Number' works when the person is in your contact list. No point in taking a chance.

I hit the call button and, after three rings, it connected. I said nothing, the person at the other end said nothing. They hung on for about five seconds before hanging up. I tried again, only this time when they answered, I said 'hello'. They hung up immediately. I tried again but this time they cut me off without answering. This was a dead end, for now.

What next? How about the recent calls she'd made? I pulled up the call history and scanned the calls she'd made since she'd bolted out of my place. There were three short calls to RON and one to Richard, her boss. And the one to Richard was a few minutes before she showed up at the Duke to meet me and Tommy. What the hell?