The hacking scandal that recently brought about the closure of the News of The World has produced some shocking headlines, and revealed some insidious characters involved throughout the established press, government and even law enforcement.
I'm certain that next summer's, if not this Christmas', biggest selling paperbacks will feature this theme heavily, and I couldn't resist having a punt myself.
What kind of person would be part of these terrible wrongdoings? How would they justify it to themselves? At what point does a person's conscience come into play in this kind of work?
Meet James, a once highly-sought after information trader, now seen as 'something to be flushed' by the people who were once so happy to pay for his services...
PRESS DELETE - PART 1
‘Just tell him you won’t do it.’
The mouthful of whiskey and coke almost re-entered the glass via my nose.
‘Jesus! What? That would be even worse than actually doing it!’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Not really, not actually worse. Would it, really?’
‘Well-’
‘If you talked with your mouth instead of your arse for once, your brain might be involved in the process. Fuck,’ she spat, arriving quickly and angrily at her wit’s end
I sank the rest of my drink and held up my hand in conceit.
‘A slight exaggeration perhaps. Not deleting them is better for my reputation, sanity and integrity, but not for my career or livelihood. Fair?’
She rolled her eyes again.
‘Moral dilemmas have never been your strongest area, have they? Given what you do, I’m surprised you have even managed to hesitate.’
‘Wow, you really fucking hate me, don’t you?’
Her face morphed from anger into something softer, yet more painful. Pity.
‘I don’t want to hate you-’
‘Brilliant.’
‘Just shut up, will you? I don’t want to hate you James, but God, you make it easy sometimes. Why did you tell me all this? It’s horrible. Just horrible.’
I sipped at the glass whilst discarding various equally useless arguments against hating me.
‘I just need a real human being to tell me what to do. I don’t know what I am anymore.’
‘This isn’t good versus evil, James. This is the real world, where horrible things will happen no matter what you do. You have to look inside yourself and remember what you would have done before all of this started.’
‘I’d have started running.’
She sighed, ‘Another fine fucking mess.’
She finished her white wine and got up from the stool. ‘I don’t want to hear anything else about this.’
‘But I need your help!’
‘You need help, all right.’
‘Oh yes, very droll.’
‘Well there it is James, take it or leave it.’
‘What do you think? What would you decide to do, if it was you with this shit and not me?’
‘What I’m trying to decide James, is what I should buy to take away the taste of vomit in my mouth. Goodbye. Don’t call me.’
I watched her leave, more longingly than I meant to. Even the revelations of the past few days were not enough to intrude on any opportunity to observe Lissa from behind.
I grabbed the various detritus from the table and shoved them into my pockets. Just as I did so, a sharp buzz came from the Blackberry beneath the keys, lighter and ID pass I had just piled on top of it. I gingerly fished it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen.
John.
‘Shit,’ I said clearing my breath. ‘John! Johnno! The J-Bomb! Long John Silver! Johnny B Goode! The Johnster! ah... Johnny! How goes it?’
‘Talk to me, James. Where are we on the Gower situation?’
‘On it. All over it, John. Update very soon. Very soon indeed.’
‘Has it been done, James? I need something to say to... him.’
The last word came out of the phone heavier than lead.
‘I’m putting it all through the grinder as we speak. Making sure there’s no loose ends, no shit, no problems, no dead wood to worry about. I’m being very careful with this, Johnny Boy. Don’t you worry about it, let me worry about it.’
I heard the sound of John breathing for a few seconds. There was a faint scratching sound.
‘Okay James, I’ve written that down. You know, so I can announce that, what you just said to me, to the editorial staff and the chief execs of the entire company.’
He said it in a manner so calm that it made my cock shrivel. ‘Oh, and while I’ve got you on the phone,’ he said casually, as I physically winced in preparation for his onslaught, ‘I’ve just been contacted by a farmer who wants his four hundred tonnes of bull shit back. Since you you’re spraying the stuff all over my desk, my inbox, and now, my ear, I thought you might be the guy to go to.’
‘John, I-’
‘I NEED AN UPDATE IN ONE HOUR OR YOU ARE DEAD TO ME!’
‘John-’
‘AND BY DEAD TO ME, I MEAN THAT YOU WILL BE ACTUALLY, PHYSICALLY DEAD, BECAUSE I WILL HAVE KILLED YOU WITH THIS PEN!’
‘Jo-’
‘Please tell me that you understand James, or I will summon such terrible forces against you that amendments will be made to the Geneva Convention. One hour.’
I breathed for what felt like the first time in about an hour.
‘Yes, John. I understand.’
He hung up.
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