A Little Light Hacking

I've been considering the possibility of someone getting hurt if this missive were to get out and about the only one in jeopardy would be me. If he knew who did it, he'd kill my ass. That would make me sad.

My wife was a true stoic, a full-blooded Italian from the Bronx who didn't cry. She made other people cry! In the nineteen years we shared, she only cried twice, the first time I would have joined her but I was too shocked, the second was seventeen years later and the reason needed some fixin'. It seems her direct boss, a banty rooster of a useless piece of used dog food, had been ragging on her and it had finally gotten under her skin.

Now Nina was an accountant and her most recent job at the company was a bit of forensics on the deposits of one of the 33 stores in her chain. Seems something like $50 grand per month were going missing and were circumstantially traced to one clerk. The clerk lived with her biker boyfriend and the pair of them didn't have the brains God gave a retarded piss-ant so the trail should be easy to follow. Nope. To date, Nina had found $150 G missing and one would expect some luxury spending.

It's becoming pretty obvious that there's someone on the inside manipulating the books in a covert fashion not available to be seen by Nina. She asked me to do a little hacking. You think you know where this is going, right?

The home office was in Orlando and I figured it would be the right place to acquire the passwords into the main database. The routine is very simple, put on one's best white-shoed, silver-tongued voice, identify yourself, company, and what you need. I simply used myself and my company since who better than myself to verify myself! This works so well it's almost criminal... This makes me happy!

For the next couple of days I enjoyed myself wandering through a giant database, many companies linked by a single capital source. I stayed out of that area even though I was behind an anonymiser while trying to trace Nina's boss's financials. “here be dragons...”

As expected, he spent more than he made and owned one item not mentioned any place locally. As he traveled a lot between stores, he was gone for days at a time so the house in St. Augustine didn't strike me as unusual initially. I'm nosy. Besides, he made my wife cry.

The snot-nosed banty rooster had a wife, two kids, and a mortgage locally.

He also had a wife, two kids, and a mortgage in St. Augustine.

The wives didn't know about each other. Oh, they would!

I printed out the pertinent information to present Nina that evening. I never got positive proof of his thievery, didn't really think more was needed. Have you ever seen the truly wicked smile and devilish glowing black eyes of a totally pleased Italian woman? The memory makes me whimper...

There was much sadness for one pitiful creature.

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