He spent twelve hours trying to "crack the code," which turned out to be the name of her cat followed by the year she retired. When he finally logged in, he didn't find blueprints for a doomsday device. He found a shared folder of knitting patterns for miniature sweaters meant for rescue penguins.

He rushed home to review the footage. He expected to find Mrs. Gable exchanging coded phrases with the mailman. Instead, the video consisted of forty minutes of extreme close-ups of potato salad and a very clear recording of Arthur breathing heavily.

It started when he saw her buy three extra-large bags of birdseed. "Who needs that much millet?" Arthur whispered to his reflection. "Unless it's being used to hide micro-transmitters."

"Arthur," she called out, her voice crackling through his headset. "Your encryption is terrible. And for the last time, it’s three stirs counter-clockwise . You really need to work on your observation skills if you’re going to stay in the game." Arthur stood stunned. "You... you're a spy?"

: A camera disguised as a common shirt button that could stream HD video to a smartphone.