The hacker was sprawled supine on the tile floor. He sat up and rubbed the back of his head, then checked the tips of his fingers. There was no blood.
“Are you all right?” asked Gabriel.
“Oui. It’s just a bit of a bump.” He offered Gabriel his hand. “I’m Philippe, by the way. Who are you?”
“I’m the man who just saved your life.”
“And I cannot thank you enough, Monsieur. But how did you know the passcode for my building?”
“Come upstairs,” said Gabriel. “I’ll show you.”
31
Rue d’Antibes
Ingrid was waiting on the landing outside the hacker’s apartment. On Gabriel’s signal, she unlocked the door with her bump key and screwdriver. Then she stepped aside and gave the hacker a beguiling smile.
“Après vous.”
The hacker looked to Gabriel for an explanation and, receiving only a blank stare, went hesitantly into the darkened entrance hall. Ingrid silenced the bleating alarm by entering the disarm code into the control panel. Gabriel closed the door and switched on the lights.
The display had its intended effect. The hacker looked at Gabriel and asked, “Who are you?”
“You may refer to me as Monsieur Klemp.”
“You’re German?”
“When the mood strikes me.”
The hacker’s gaze shifted to Ingrid. “And her?”
“My associate.”
“Does she have a name?”
“I’m more interested in yours,” replied Gabriel.
“I told you, it’s Philippe.”
“Philippe what?”
“Lambert.”
“Are you carrying a weapon, Philippe Lambert?”
“Non.”
Gabriel pushed the hacker face-first against the wall and subjected him to a thorough search. He found nothing but a second phone and a billfold. The driver’s permit and credit cards all bore the name Philippe Lambert.
“Satisfied?” he asked.
Gabriel handed over the billfold. “What sort of work do you do, Philippe?”
“Digital marketing and advertising. I’m a freelance consultant.”
“That would explain why a man on a motorcycle was about to kill you.”
“He must have mistaken me for someone else.” Lambert paused, then added, “As have you, Monsieur Klemp.”
“I think you hacked the Geneva Freeport a few days ago. In fact, my associate is quite certain that you were the one who did the job.”
“Your associate doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“She traced the source of the hack to your IP address. She also had a look at your computers while you were out this morning. She can show you the photos, if you like.”
Lambert managed to smile. “Breaking and entering is a crime in France, Monsieur Klemp.”
“So is computer hacking and digital theft.”
“Are you a police officer?”
“Fortunately for you, I’m not.” Gabriel attempted to slip past Lambert, but the hacker blocked his path. “I would advise you, Philippe, to choose another course of action.”
“Or what?”
“My associate and I will leave, and the man on the motorcycle will kill you the next time you set foot outside this apartment.” Gabriel went into the sitting room and deliberately surveyed his surroundings. “I really love what you’ve done with the place. Did you hire a decorator, or did you do this yourself?”
“I don’t live in the physical world.” Lambert pointed to the computers and monitors arrayed on the trestle table. “I live in that one. It’s a perfect world. No disease or wars, no floods or famines. Just ones and zeros.” He looked at Ingrid and asked, “Isn’t that right?”
