A 'Meeter and Greeter' accosted him at the door – at least that was what her large-print badge said. ‘Madge – I’m here to help’ showed him through the foyer to the main hall, pointing out the gents on the way and assuring him the talk would end on time and there would be free tea and biscuits afterwards.

Seats were set in serried ranks in the large room but this didn’t stop the chattering and shared conversations as people meandered between rows. He stood at the end of a sparsely populated row and took a leisurely look around. A woman in an ugly purple jumper at the back was doing the same and he smiled politely when he caught her gaze. There was a smattering of men, a few clustered together as if there’d be safety in numbers when surrounded by the many women. He noticed a few designer bags, some nicely tailored coats and checked out the jewellery on display. It backed up what he’d found online: this was definitely a wealthier membership. He settled into his seat as the room quietened for the monthly meeting welcome and the introduction of the speaker, Robbie something, an IT professional; and checked there was no-one to look over his shoulder.

“So we all know of the Internet – it’s everywhere these days and yes, taking over too much in some people’s opinion. It has brought so many changes to our lives, some good, some rather more irksome. It was made fully publically available on April 30th, 1993. Only 30 years has resulted in a revolution to the planet in many ways. It seems a long time but in 2003 only 10% of the world population was online, as this graph shows. By 2020 it was 60%.

In comparison, the first electric street lights were used in London in 1878 but one hundred years later only 49% of the world population had access to electricity. It, too, revolutionized people’s lives but as with all new technologies, the take-up varies between rich and poor, urban and rural.”

An engaging, confident chap and observant of the audience reactions, Frank thought: good slides; lots of analogies to explain things and eye contact with all parts of the room. There were enough little snippets of humour which kept the attention of most of those present. However, Frank wasn’t really there to listen. He was quite conversant with the Internet. In fact he knew his way round technology very well.

“Of course, some things become so popular that instead of something being a brand, it’s used to represent the entire product range. We use Hoover as a verb instead of vacuum, even if it’s a Dyson. A ball point pen is a biro and now, of course, when we search the internet for information we Google it, even though it might be another search engine we use.”

Frank took out his kit and surreptitiously checked the wi-fi: unsecured public access; that would make his task easier. He checked on available Bluetooth connections and found a few open and discoverable. Nice to meet you Deidre, Susan, Alice, Arthur and Margot, he thought. Swiftly he started checking out as many connections as he could; downloading usernames, passwords and access codes where possible. Those he could explore at leisure later. It was a bit awkward, trying to look as though he was just taking notes.

There were three U3As in the local area. Frank had already visited the first two. Neither had seemed good options, so he hoped this third time would be the charm. At some point in the near future, the wealthiest from each of the first two would succumb to a hacker and have accounts drained, but he’d be well out of the picture by then. No-one would even remember Peter Lord or Dale Hardy from his one and only ‘prospective member’ visit to their open meetings.

“Many people are suspicious of the Internet, not least because of concerns over safety and security – scams and hackers are always in the news.”

Well said, thought Frank, nodding in agreement when Robbie caught his eye; people really were gullible, considering themselves safe when actually anyone could be watching. His fingers flew over the buttons of his phone. By the time Robbie had finished, Frank had a tidy cache of downloaded files and data. That would give him options. Slipping his kit into his bag, he clapped politely with the rest as Robbie delayed only a few minutes answering questions.

He mentally reviewed his choices. It had been easy enough, for him, to access the local U3A database for all the members’ details. He’d married that with other sources of information to compile a shortlist of the most likely candidates by marital status and income bracket. He’d garnered pictures of all of them from Facebook and Instagram and the like. It was just too easy with tagging on group outings and family parties, even if the women didn’t actually have accounts themselves. He looked round the room, seeing they had all turned up so couldn’t meet all of them. Prioritise then.

This was always the trickiest bit: working the room to meet up with the women; introducing himself as a prospective new member and feigning an avid interest in the relevant topics. But should he repeat the investment scam, which usually led to a bigger payout or just limit himself to hacking accounts? The investment scams were riskier these days, with people being more aware. They were more work too but there was always the thrill of success at the end which he didn’t really get from just emptying accounts. No, it wouldn’t do to second-guess himself now. It had worked well in Crewe, Whitby, Cromer and Canterbury; no reason not to continue. The savings accounts were filling up nicely after all.

Really, it came down to who he could get on best with; after all, he’d be around them a lot for a few weeks until a ‘family emergency’ would call him away, never to be seen again. From checking out some emails the previous week, it seemed there was some rivalry going on in the History of Art and Book Groups. Marilyn and Nicole seemed to both think they were in charge and were giving the groups coordinator the run-around. If he played his cards right, he might be able to get them both interested in him and his investment ideas and play them off against each other. He wandered across the room in their direction.

“ Nicole, I really don’t think that looking at Fauvism again is a very good idea. It’s less than a year..”

“A lot of the group missed that session and said they’d like to revisit it. You just don’t listen to anyone.”

The strident voices had Frank turning away. They would be much too much like hard work. He wandered over to the hatch where they were serving refreshments.

“What can I get you ?” Heather’s bright welcoming smile drew him in.

“Ah, a cup of coffee please. How much is it? I’m new here so I don’t know the ropes.” Frank relaxed under her interested gaze.

“Oh no, it’s all free. Help yourself to milk and sugar. Did you enjoy the talk today?” Heather asked the tall bespectacled gent with the friendly face. “Are you thinking of joining? We have lots of interesting groups and everyone is very welcoming.” She waved and smiled at someone else in the room behind him.

There was no-one else waiting to be served and Heather seemed willing to engage with him. An excellent first step. She was a newbie too, from the records; only recently moved to the area; not much of a media presence or family come to that. A bit of a loner. That was good – the fewer friends to poke their noses in, the less likely they would be to warn her against him.

They exchanged comments on their interests. Heather seemed charmed by his jokes and pleasant manner. She handed over the refreshments duty to another member for the rest of the afternoon and sat with Frank over two cups of tea before she said she had to go. Frank agreed to give the walking group a try the following day. Plenty of time to chat there.

He noticed Heather exchange a few words with both Robbie and the ugly purple jumper woman before she left. Frank worked the room a little more, just for appearances sake, but his decision was already made. Heather would be the next donor to his offshore accounts.

Frank had observed the brief interactions but hadn’t realised their importance. As he’d reflected earlier, you didn’t always know who was watching. D.S. Jenny Carson from the fraud squad pulled up the sleeves of her favourite purple jumper and helped to stack tables whilst mentally composing the report from her team.

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