Underground by Suelette Dreyfus (books to get back into reading txt) 📖

The interview room was small but very full. A dozen or more boxes, all filled with labelled print-outs.

Sexton began the interview. `Taped record of interview conducted at Australian Federal Police Headquarters, 383 Latrobe Street Melbourne on 29 November 1994.’ He reeled off the names of the people present and asked each to introduce himself for voice recognition.

`As I have already stated, Detective Sergeant Day and I are making enquiries into your alleged involvement into the manipulation of private automated branch exchanges [PABXes] via Telecom 008 numbers in order to obtain free phone calls nationally and internationally. Do you clearly understand this allegation?’

`Yes.’

Sexton continued with the necessary, and important, preliminaries. Did Anthrax understand that he was not obliged to answer any questions? That he had the right to communicate with a lawyer? That he had attended the interview of his own free will? That he was free to leave at any time?

Yes, Anthrax said in answer to each question.

Sexton then ploughed through a few more standard procedures before he finally got to the meat of the issue—telephones. He fished around in one of the many boxes and pulled out a mobile phone. Anthrax confirmed that it was his phone.

`Was that the phone that you used to call the 008 numbers and subsequent connections?’ Sexton asked.

`Yes.’

`Contained in that phone is a number of pre-set numbers. Do you agree?’

`Yes.’

`I went to the trouble of extracting those records from it.’ Sexton looked pleased with himself for hacking Anthrax’s speed-dial numbers from the mobile. `Number 22 is of some interest to myself. It comes up as Aaron. Could that be the person you referred to before as Aaron in South Australia?’

`Yes, but he is always moving house. He is a hard person to track down.’

Sexton went through a few more numbers, most of which Anthrax hedged. He asked Anthrax questions about his manipulation of the phone system, particularly about the way he made free calls overseas using Australian companies’ 008 numbers.

When Anthrax had patiently explained how it all worked, Sexton went through some more speed-dial numbers.

`Number 43. Do you recognise that one?’

`That’s the Swedish Party Line.’

`What about these other numbers? Such as 78? And 30?’

`I’m not sure. I couldn’t say what any of these are. It’s been so long,’ Anthrax paused, sensing the pressure from the other side of the table. `These ones here, they are numbers in my town. But I don’t know who. Very often, ‘cause I don’t have any pen and paper with me, I just plug a number into the phone.’

Sexton looked unhappy. He decided to go in a little harder. `I’m going to be pretty blunt. So far you have admitted to the 008s but I think you are understating your knowledge and your experience when it comes to these sort of offences.’ He caught himself. `Not offences. But your involvement in all of this … I think you have got a little bit more … I’m not saying you are lying, don’t get me wrong, but you tend to be pulling yourself away from how far you were really into this. And how far everyone looked up to you.’

There was the gauntlet, thrown down on the table. Anthrax picked it up.

`They looked up to me? That was just a perception. To be honest, I don’t know that much. I couldn’t tell you anything about telephone exchanges or anything like that. In the past, I guess the reason they might look up to me in the sense of a leader is because I was doing this, as you are probably aware, quite a bit in the past, and subsequently built up a reputation. Since then I decided I wouldn’t do it again.’

`Since this?’ Sexton was quick off the mark.

`No. Before. I just said, “I don’t want anything to do with this any more. It’s just stupid”. When I broke up with my girlfriend … I just got dragged into it again. I’m not trying to say that I am any less responsible for any of this but I will say I didn’t originate any of these 008s. They were all scanned by other people. But I made calls and admittedly I did a lot of stupid things.’

But Sexton was like a dog with a bone.

`I just felt that you were tending to … I don’t know if it’s because your dad’s here or … I have read stuff that “Anthrax was a legend when it came to this, and he was a scanner, and he was the man to talk to about X.25, Tymnet, hacking, Unix. The whole kit and kaboodle”.’

Anthrax didn’t take the bait. Cops always try that line. Play on a hacker’s ego, get them to brag. It was so transparent.

`It’s not true,’ he answered. `I know nothing about … I can’t program. I have an Amiga with one meg of memory. I have no formal background in computers whatsoever.’

That part was definitely true. Everything was self-taught. Well, almost everything. He did take one programming class at uni, but he failed it. He went to the library to do extra research, used in his final project for the course. Most of his classmates wrote simple 200-line programs with few functions; his ran to 500 lines and had lots of special functions. But the lecturer flunked him. She told him, `The functions in your program were not taught in this course’.

Sexton asked Anthrax if he was into carding, which he denied emphatically. Then Sexton headed back into scanning. How much had Anthrax done? Had he given scanned numbers to other hackers? Anthrax was evasive, and both cops were getting impatient.

`What I am trying to get at is that I believe that, through your scanning, you are helping other people break the law by promoting this sort of thing.’ Sexton had shown his hand.

`No more than a telephone directory would be assisting someone, because it’s really just a list. I didn’t actually break anything. I just looked at it.’

`These voice mailbox systems obviously belong to people. What would you do when you found a VMB?’

`Just play with it. Give it to someone and say, “Have a look at this. It is interesting,” or whatever.’

`When you say play with it you would break the code out to the VMB?’

`No. Just have a look around. I’m not very good at breaking VMBs.’

Sexton tried a different tack. `What are 1-900 numbers? On the back of that document there is a 1-900 number. What are they generally for?’

Easy question. `In America they like cost $10 a minute. You can ring them up, I think, and get all sorts of information, party lines, etc.’

`It’s a conference type of call?’

`Yes.’

`Here is another document, contained in a clear plastic sleeve labelled AS/AB/S/1. Is this a scan? Do you recognise your handwriting?’

`Yes, it’s in my handwriting. Once again it’s the same sort of scan. It’s just dialling some commercial numbers and noting them.’

`And once you found something, what would you do with it?’

Anthrax had no intention of being painted as some sort of ringleader of a scanning gang. He was a sociable loner, not a part of a team.

`I’d just look at it, like in the case of this one here—630. I just punched in a few numbers and it said that 113 diverts somewhere, 115 says goodbye, etc. I’d just do that and I probably never came back to it again.’

`And you believe that if I pick up the telephone book, I would get all this information?’

`No. It’s just a list of numbers in the same sense that a telephone book is.’

`What about a 1-800 number?’

`That is the same as a 0014.’

`If you rang a 1-800 number, where would you go?’

Anthrax wondered if the Computer Crimes Unit gained most of its technical knowledge from interviews with hackers.

`You can either do 0014 or you can do 1-800. It’s just the same.’

`Is it Canada—0014?’

`It’s everywhere.’ Oops. Don’t sound too cocky. `Isn’t it?’

`No, I’m not familiar.’ Which is just what Anthrax was thinking.

Sexton moved on. `On the back of that document there is more type scans …’

`It’s all just the same thing. Just take a note of what is there. In this case, box 544 belongs to this woman …’

`So, once again, you just release this type of information on the bridge?’

`Not all of it. Most of it I would probably keep to myself and never look at it again. I was bored. Is it illegal to scan?’

`I’m not saying it’s illegal. I’m just trying to show that you were really into this. I’m building a picture and I am gradually getting to a point and I’m going to build a picture to show that for a while there …’ Sexton then interrupted himself and veered down a less confrontational course. `I’m not saying you are doing it now, but back then, when all these offences occurred, you were really into scanning telephone systems, be it voice mailboxes … I’m not saying you found the 008s but you … anything to bugger up Telecom. You were really getting into it and you were helping other people.’

Anthrax took offence. `The motivation for me doing it wasn’t to bugger up Telecom.’

Sexton backpedalled. `Perhaps … probably a poor choice of words.’

He began pressing forward on the subject of hacking, something the police had not said they were going to be discussing. Anthrax felt a little unnerved, even rattled.

Day asked if Anthrax wanted a break.

`No,’ he answered. `I just want to get it over and done with, if that’s OK. I’m not going to lie. I’m not going to say “no comment”. I’m going to admit to everything ‘cause, based on what I have been told, it’s in my best interest to do so.’

The police paused. They didn’t seem to like that last comment much. Day tried to clear things up.

`Before we go any further, based on what you have been told, it is in your best interests to tell the truth. Was it any member of the AFP that told you this?’

`Yes.’

`Who?’ Day threw the question out quickly.

Anthrax couldn’t remember their names. `The ones who came to my house. I think Andrew also said it to me,’ he said, nodding in the direction of the red-headed constable.

Why were the cops getting so uncomfortable all of a sudden? It was no secret that they had told both Anthrax and his mother repeatedly that it was in his best interest to agree to an interview.

Day leaned forward, peered at Anthrax and asked, `What did you interpret that to mean?’

`That if I don’t tell the truth, if I say “no comment” and don’t cooperate, that it is going to be … it will mean that you will go after me with …’ Anthrax grasped for the right words, but he felt tongue-tied, `with … more force, I guess.’

Both officers stiffened visibly.

Day came back again. `Do you feel that an unfair inducement has been placed on you as a result of that?’

`In what sense?’ The question was genuine.

`You have made the comment and it has now been recorded and I have to clear it up. Do you feel like, that a deal has been offered to you at any stage?’

A deal? Anthrax thought about it. It wasn’t a deal as in `Talk to us now and we will make sure you don’t go to jail’. Or `Talk now and we won’t beat you with a rubber hose’.

`No,’ he answered.

`Do you feel that as a result of that being said that you have been pressured to come forward today and tell the truth?’

Ah, that sort of deal.