Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
A fter a long pause, Leo sighed. ‘In for a penny and all that. I suppose you’ve got a point about keeping our investigative options open.’
I tried not to look too pleased, sensing that he was still teetering on the knife edge of calling the whole scheme off.
‘Okay. Shall I take another picture of you?’
‘Let’s stick with the mugshot photo,’ he said. ‘As I’m not trying to attract a date, I don’t really care if it’s not my best.’
‘Are you sure? I can take another one, if you like. Unless you’re shamelessly fishing for compliments.’
Leo pulled a face. ‘Would I do something as superficial as that?’
‘I know, I know. You’re above such trivial considerations as personal appearance.’ Easy for someone as good-looking as Leo was, I added silently to myself.
I uploaded the picture. ‘It’ll probably take a little while to appear,’ I explained. ‘The app uses AI as one of its safety measures to make sure there’s nothing inappropriate in any images.’
‘And yet Brian’s plagiarised photos got through the checks? Another black mark against SO Ox’s allegedly watertight security. Anyway, what comes next?’
‘Well, most profiles have more than one picture so that you can get a more rounded idea of the person behind the images. You know, showing shots of you in different situations, like surrounded by loads of friends so you can make it clear how popular you are, or on glamorous holidays to show that you’ve got a spirit of adventure. You get the idea.’
Leo nodded. ‘That makes sense. Go on then, what caught your attention about Brian’s other pictures? He lured you in with the puppy snap, and then the other pictures increased your interest because of what exactly?’
I considered my answer. ‘He looked kind,’ I said eventually, realising that I’d been drawn to this particular quality because it had been lacking in previous relationships.
I wished my honesty with myself, and Leo, felt more liberating, but I couldn’t shake my sense of shame at longing so desperately for something which should be so basic.
‘Interesting.’ The word was loaded. ‘And what exactly makes a guy appear “kind” in his profile pictures?’ he pushed.
‘It was something about his eyes. He had this look like…’ I struggled to find the right words to explain myself.
Besides, it was difficult to make a sensible argument when Leo was watching me with such an intense expression on his face.
‘You’re just trying to get me to admit that he looked hot in the photos.
’ I threw my hands up in the air in mock surrender, taking the opportunity to steer the conversation into more superficial waters.
‘Yes, fine, I admit it, there was one picture where he was in his combat gear surrounded by the people he’d been helping, sleeves rolled up, strong arms, devastating smile, the whole dreamboat thing.
If that makes me incredibly shallow, then I have no defence. ’
‘I don’t think it’s shallow to admit when you’re physically attracted to someone,’ said Leo. ‘That’s a pretty key part of a successful relationship.’ His voice was softer than usual, more intimate.
I felt my cheeks turn warm as my mental image of Scammer Brian’s picture was replaced with one of Leo in a similarly heroic stance.
I found myself glancing down at his arms, imagining the strength of the muscles concealed beneath his jacket, wondering what it would be like to be held in his embrace.
I gave myself a mental shake. What was wrong with me?
I looked back up, forcing my features into as unflustered an expression as I could manage.
Leo cleared his throat, and took on a more business-like tone, ‘And scammers often use pictures harvested from people in the military. The armed forces have a certain cachet to them; plus, people are naturally more trusting of those in uniform.’
‘It’s even more disappointing to fall into a trap catering to a stereotype. I’d hoped I was better than that,’ I quipped, still trying to get myself back onto an even keel.
Leo was warming to his subject. ‘Another reason fraudsters often claim they’re in the military is that it supplies them with a ready-made excuse as to why they can’t meet up easily.
Or they’ll pretend to be working offshore on an oil rig, basically any kind of role where they have a high status and plausible reasons to be difficult to get hold of sometimes. Rule 101 from scammer school.’
‘I wish I’d known that. Now you say it, it sounds so obvious.’
‘You live and learn. Anyway, we’re getting off point. I’d prefer to stick with just the one photo on this app. The less attention my profile attracts, the better.’
I toyed with teasing him about posting a picture in police uniform but, remembering his previous reactions to any mention of his time in the force, I decided it was better to leave that area well alone.
‘Okay, if you’re determined to stick to just the one photo, I guess we need to carry on to the next section which is writing a short personal statement, followed by a quick-fire quiz about your likes and dislikes.
Then we fill out the security questions, upload your proof of Oxfordshire residency, and wait for you to be approved. ’
‘And is my approval also down to artificial intelligence, or does a human get involved at some point?’
‘Good question,’ I said. ‘I can’t remember it being mentioned in the terms and conditions. Let’s add that to our list of things to find out.’
‘Of course, she has a list.’ He rolled his eyes.
‘I thought it would be the best way of keeping organised and on track. How did you do it when you were carrying out investigations in the police?’
‘The gaffer gave us our instructions and sent us on our way. And I quickly learnt that it was best to keep my speculation and thoughts to myself, rather than writing them down in list form. The defence can demand that your notes are made public, you see.’ He frowned, and I wondered once again what it was that had made him so wary.
‘Right, so you wanted a personal statement? That sounds uncomfortably like applying for a job.’
‘I suppose it’s not too dissimilar,’ I replied, double-checking the requirements and desired word count.
‘Although this statement is aimed more at describing your personality traits than your skillset. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.
It’s just something along the lines of “Hi, I’m an aspiring business owner based in Oxford, and I’d like to meet an outgoing woman for fun and blah blah blah. ”’
‘Fun and blah blah blah, got it in one.’ He raised an eyebrow, and my mind suddenly filled in what ‘blah blah blah’ could stand for.
Why did I keep going down this unwanted path?
Maybe it was a weird reaction to the Brian situation, a kind of delayed sense of frustration that the man of my dreams had turned out to be nightmare material, but I could really do without it.
I could feel myself blushing but, thankfully, Leo didn’t seem to notice as he continued with his theme.
‘I think it would make perfect sense to advertise one’s skills on a dating website and inform a woman what one can bring to the table.
She should be aware that I’m practical and know my way around DIY.
For example, I can fix a leaky tap in the ensuite and, when it comes to the bedroom, I’m incre?—’
‘Yes, alright, too much information, thank you very much, Leo,’ I interrupted him, irritated that certain internal organs were already reacting to his unfinished sentence, despite the instructions from my much more sensible brain to ignore him.
‘I was going to say that I’m incredible at hanging curtains and putting up pictures,’ he said, the affected innocence contradicted by the wicked sparkle in his eyes. ‘If your mind went to other places, then that’s on you.’
I decided it was safer to take another bite of my sandwich rather than try to come up with a response to his deliberate provocation. Thankfully, he seemed oblivious to my self-induced discomfort.
‘Okay, how about this? “Hi, my name’s Leo. I live in Oxford and I enjoy good food and travelling.”’
I responded with an exaggerated yawn. ‘That’s rather generic, don’t you think? I mean most people like those things. It would be pretty unusual not to.’
‘Generic was exactly what I was after. The blander the better, if you ask me. Why, what did you put in your statement?’
I thought about lying, but he was going to find out sooner or later. To be honest, I was amazed, and touched, that he hadn’t used his access to my account to read it already.
‘I wrote a short poem actually,’ I admitted, embarrassed to reveal the amount of effort I’d gone to.
Having held out against online dating for so long, fearing it would reduce my love life to the same level of passion as selecting a purchase on Amazon, I’d hoped that my thoughtful verse might attract the attention of someone who would share my love of the written word, a real gentleman who would reply with a similarly grand gesture, demonstrating his intelligence and romantic hero credentials.
In retrospect, and judging by Leo’s bemused expression, it had probably made me jump right to the top of the list of gullible victims ripe for the picking.
I’d given of myself because that was what I’d been hoping for in return.
But in reality, I had just made myself even more vulnerable to exploitation.
Leo stood up suddenly and cleared his throat.
‘A poem? Let me guess. Did it go something like this?’ He started declaiming a verse with the seriousness of an actor delivering a Shakespearean soliloquy in the West End.
‘There once was a librarian called Kat,
whose dream suitor was a man with a rat.
She signed up to SO Ox,
found a man who could box,
now her mum’s buying a brand-new hat.’
He finished with a flourish, and then bowed and pressed his hand to his chest as if moved by the applause of an invisible audience.