Stalker

Chapter Ten

‘It is a sad fact that stabbings and break-ins are very good for business,’ Derek said to Paul as he drew the van to a halt outside U-Beat nightclub. It felt strange coming back here after what had happened but there was a job to be done. ‘If everyone was kind to each other and obeyed the law I’d be out of work and there’d be no apprenticeship for you.’ Derek threw him a wry smile. ‘As it is people behave like animals with callous disregard for their fellow human beings, so business is flourishing.’

Paul nodded disinterestedly as he checked his phone. He’d heard similar before from Derek. Derek turned slightly towards him in his seat and Paul knew what was coming next: a description of the job they were about to do. Derek often repeated himself as if no one else grasped anything first time, which Paul supposed came from living with his mother who was old.

‘So we’re going to install two cameras today – one at the end of that alley over there that runs alongside the nightclub.’ He pointed.

‘Where Kev was stabbed,’ Paul said.

‘Yes. And the second camera at the rear of the premises. It’s straightforward. They’ve also asked me to check if any additional cameras are needed inside, but I think they’re well covered. Ready then, lad? Phone off or on silent. I know it’s not a private home but the same rules apply.’

‘Of course,’ Paul said amicably, switching his phone to silent and sliding it into the pocket of his jeans. ‘Are you leaving the van here? It’s on a yellow line.’

‘I know,’ Derek said, irritated, ‘but there aren’t any parking bays free and we’re trade so I can leave it here while we unload.’

‘The last time you did that you got ticketed,’ Paul reminded him with a smirk.

‘And if you remember it was rescinded on appeal. They need to train their traffic wardens better.’ His hand was on the door ready to get out when his phone vibrated with an incoming call. He checked to see who the caller was and pressed to accept the call. ‘I won’t be a minute, lad,’ he said to Paul. Then, ‘Good morning, Mr Williams.’

‘Is that Derek Flint?’

‘Yes. How are you and Mrs Williams?’

‘Well, thank you. I’m sorry to trouble you but my wife and I both received email alerts to our phones yesterday evening about a breach of security.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘You do?’

‘A copy of any alert comes to me. I saw it this morning.’

‘OK. So do you know why it was sent? We’ve been through the tape twice but can’t see any reason. We were out at the time and the message gave us quite a shock. We went straight home.’

‘There was no need to do that,’ Derek said. ‘The advantage of being able to access your cameras online is that you can check all is well from a distance without the need to dash home. I’m sorry, I should have made that clear.’

There was a short silence. ‘Our babysitter was here looking after the children so we thought it best to return. But we’re puzzled as to what could have tripped the system.’

‘I see.’ Derek pondered. So he wasn’t going to share what he’d seen when he’d logged in. ‘Mr Williams, I remember you said you trusted your babysitter implicitly but to be honest the most likely cause for the email alert was that the system was interfered with, assuming your house wasn’t broken into. Do you think your sitter might have tried to turn off one of the cameras without the correct password?’

‘She says she didn’t touch anything.’

‘In that case the internal camera could have been triggered. It has an in-built motion detector. If there was a lot of movement in the living room, for example, by someone dancing or jumping maybe, it could have triggered the alert.’

‘Oh. Yes, that could have been it.’

‘These cameras are very sensitive; they’re meant to be. But if it happens again give me a call and I’ll come and check. I can adjust it if necessary, although given what happened to you before you had the cameras I would think you want everything working as it should be.’

‘Yes, of course. Well, thank you. I’ll tell my wife.’

‘You’re welcome. Was there anything else?’

‘No, that’s it. Goodbye then.’

‘Goodbye, Mr Williams.’ Derek returned the phone to his jacket pocket as Paul looked at him questioningly. ‘Nothing for you to worry about, lad. Now come on, out you get, there’s work to be done.’

‘They haven’t caught the geezer who stabbed Kev the bouncer,’ Paul said half an hour later as Derek came down from the ladder they’d propped against the side of the club.

‘Apparently not.’

‘I read in the paper they are still appealing for witnesses which means they haven’t a clue,’ Paul said.

‘It would have been a different matter if they’d had one of these installed in the alley,’ Derek said, taking the new camera from its box. He’d marked the position where the camera had to be and now passed it to Paul. ‘You know what to do. So no more talking. Concentrate on the job and remember you’re at the top of a ladder so don’t step back.’

Paul didn’t laugh. It wasn’t as ludicrous as it sounded. It was easy to forget you were at the top of a ladder when you were concentrating hard. He’d forgotten once and had taken his foot off the ladder and been about to step back when Derek had shouted. The ladder would have toppled for sure had Derek not been holding it. A lesson well learnt and not the only one, although Derek didn’t know about those.

With the drill in one hand and everything else he needed in the tool belt around his waist, Paul went up the ladder. All that could be heard for some moments was the sound of the powerful cordless electric drill boring into the brick; red brick dust plumed out before dispersing into the air. Holes drilled, Paul screwed the mount into place and then returned down the ladder for the camera.

‘Don’t drop it,’ Derek said passing it to him, ‘or you’ll owe me for sure.’

Paul gave a tight smile at his not-funny joke and carefully carried the camera up the ladder. As he worked overhead Derek allowed his gaze to wander down the alleyway. It was light enough now to see to the end but come night it would be pitch-black, and there were plenty of places for a would-be attacker to hide in wait for their victim. He doubted the attacker would ever be caught unless he was known to the victim.

The new camera in place, Paul came down the ladder.

‘Now round the back of the club,’ Derek said.

A very basic six-foot wooden gate secured by a single bolt was all that separated the alleyway from the rear of the club. It was possible Kevin’s attacker had come through here and been hiding behind the club and not in the alleyway at all, Derek thought, and wondered if the police had considered it. Not that it was likely to add much to their enquiry as there hadn’t been a camera here either. The club owner’s original reason for installing CCTV had been to identify clubbers causing trouble inside and on their way out.

By three o’clock the two new cameras had been wired into the system and Derek and Paul were in the club’s office with the manager as he viewed them on his desktop monitor. Satisfied all was well and the manager was happy, Derek thanked him for his custom and, leaving his business card, said goodbye.

Once in the van they both spent a few moments checking their phones.

‘Three missed calls from Mr Osman and a voicemail message,’ Derek said out loud, concerned. ‘I wonder what he wants?’ He pressed to retrieve the voicemail message. As he listened his face paled. ‘Their shop’s been broken into again.’

‘The newsagents?’ Paul asked. Derek nodded. ‘But we’ve only just fitted the new camera.’

‘I know that, lad,’ Derek said tersely.

‘How did they get in?’

‘He didn’t say, but he’s upset and blaming me. We’re going there now.’

Unsettled, Derek returned his phone to his jacket pocket and pulled away from the club. Remembering the location of the Osman’s shop from his previous visit he made a series of left and right turns, using the back roads; his expression one of grim determination as he concentrated on the road ahead.

‘You know the area well,’ Paul remarked. ‘All these shortcuts.’

‘I should do, I’ve lived here all my life,’ Derek replied brusquely, his mind on other things.

‘So have I but I didn’t know some of these roads existed.’ Paul paused as if considering something. ‘I suppose the guy who knifed Kev must have had a good knowledge of the area to avoid the cameras, or the police would have caught him by now.’

Derek glanced at him, the beginnings of a small tic agitating at the corner of his eye. It happened sometimes when he was stressed. ‘Possibly,’ he said.

‘Why’s the shop owner blaming you?’

‘I don’t know. Something to do with the insurance company. He wasn’t making much sense.’

Paul fell silent for a while, then keeping his gaze ahead, asked, ‘How come you didn’t know?’

‘Know what?’

‘About the break-in at the newsagents?’

‘I’m not clairvoyant, boy, am I?’ Derek barked, the tic flickering.

‘But this morning you told Mr Williams you always got a copy of any email alert sent when there’s been a breach of security. Why didn’t that happen with the newsagents?’

Derek’s hands imperceptibly tightened on the wheel but there was only a heartbeat before he replied. ‘Good point, lad. I’ll need to check when I get back to the office. Not just a pretty face, are you?’ His tense expression undermined his stab at humour.

Ten minutes later he drew up outside the newsagents and they got out. The shop appeared to be open for business as usual and there was no sign of a break-in or of the police, which was a relief. Their presence always complicated matters in Derek’s experience and they made him feel uncomfortable.

The old-fashioned doorbell clanged as they went in. Mrs Osman was at the counter serving a customer while another two customers were browsing the displays of magazines and greeting cards.

‘He’s out the back,’ Mrs Osman said to Derek, looking past the customer, ‘and he’s not happy. You’d better go through.’

She raised the counter to allow them access and then opened the door behind her that led to the stockroom. Derek went in first. Mr Osman was sitting at the small table surrounded by boxes of stock and jabbing two fingers at the keypad of his laptop. Derek’s gaze swept the room; there was no sign of a break-in here either.

‘So you’ve come at last,’ he said, obviously annoyed.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Osman, we came as soon as we could. I’ve only just listened to your message. We’ve been tied up on a job all day. What happened?’

‘He got in through that door,’ Mr Osman said, nodding to the back door. ‘I’ll show you if I can find the place on this bloody thing.’ He stabbed a finger at the laptop again. ‘My wife downloaded a copy for the police but now I can’t find it.’

Derek watched for a few moments as Mr Osman tried in vain to locate the correct link.

‘Shall I try to find it for you?’ he asked at last.

‘Yes, go on then! Stupid thing.’ He pushed the laptop roughly across the table to face Derek. Two taps and the website was up.

‘What’s your password?’

Mr Osman looked at him blankly.

‘Your initials plus ten,’ Derek prompted.

‘I know,’ he said, irritated.

The cameras were now on-screen and Derek tilted the laptop so Mr Osman could see it. ‘When was the break-in approximately?’ he asked. Paul stood behind them peering over their shoulders at the screen.

‘It was 1.45am. It will be seared on my mind forever.’

Derek pressed fast rewind until the clock showed 1.30 am.

‘It’s the back camera you need, not the front,’ Mr Osman snapped impatiently as Derek enlarged the image for the camera in the shop. ‘They didn’t come in through the front door, for heaven’s sake!’

‘I appreciate that, but I want to see if the camera in the shop picked up anything. It looks out towards the front shop window and door so it might have picked up anyone loitering outside.’

At 1.42am a lone figure wearing a hoodie could be seen passing in front of the shop.

‘There he is!’ Mr Osman said, his finger flying to the screen. ‘I missed that. I wonder if the police saw it?’ But Derek knew that, even if they had spotted this image, it was worthless for identification purposes. The intruder had kept his head down and tucked well inside his hoodie, as if he was aware the camera inside could pick him up.

Concentrating hard, Derek tapped the keypad to bring up the camera in the stockroom. The same figure appeared at the back door and walked straight in. Derek paused the tape and looked at his client. ‘The door appears to have been unlocked, Mr Osman?’

‘I know, I know!’ he replied agitatedly. ‘It seems I might have forgotten to lock it. I told the police I’d locked it but then your bloody camera shows otherwise. The insurance company won’t pay. I’d have been better off without your damn camera. I always check I’ve locked the doors before we leave the shop but on this one occasion I didn’t!’

It wasn’t the first time Derek had come across someone becoming careless after having a security system fitted, lulled into a false sense of safety by the installation of CCTV. There wasn’t much he could say. Of course the insurance company wouldn’t pay if the owner had left the door unlocked, but it was hardly his fault so there was no need for Mr Osman to take it out on him. He pressed play again to continue the tape and they watched as the hooded figure began emptying the boxes in the stockroom, tipping them out and trampling on their contents: crisps, sweets, cigarettes and so on, then jumping all over them for maximum damage.

‘You see, your camera is useless,’ Mr Osman said, giving the screen another hard poke with his finger. ‘You can’t see his face. That cretin knows that if he keeps his hood up and his face down he can’t be identified. The police said that criminals know this and that no one responds to an alarm. What fucking use is security? I had to clear up that lot. I can’t sell it; my stock is ruined and the insurance company won’t pay.’

Derek sighed. ‘I’m sorry this has happened, but I’m not to blame. No system is a hundred per cent effective. I did my best with the budget you had in mind.’

There was a moment’s silence before Paul said quietly, ‘It’s a hell of a coincidence.’

‘That’s what I thought,’ Mr Osman agreed vehemently. ‘One hell of a coincidence!’

Derek remained very quiet.

‘Did he receive the email alert like the Williams’ did?’ Paul asked Derek.

‘What email?’ Mr Osman demanded.

Paul looked to Derek to explain and when he didn’t he took the initiative. ‘Home Security send an automated email alert to the client if there is a breach of security or the monitor or cameras malfunction. It advises you to log in straightaway. You and your wife should have received an email.’

‘No. We certainly did not.’

‘That would explain it then,’ Paul said to Derek in a flurry of satisfaction. ‘The system must have developed an error so the automated email wasn’t sent.’

‘What error? What email?’ Mr Osman demanded, growing increasingly frustrated.

‘You were supposed to receive an email alerting you to a possible breach of security,’ Paul continued, feeling he was been very helpful. ‘But due to an error with the system the email wasn’t sent.’ He looked at Derek, waited for some words of praise as he’d help solve the problem, but Derek was staring blindly at the laptop.

‘I see, well, thank you, young man.’ Mr Osman’s face lost some of its anguish. He turned to Derek. ‘If your system was malfunctioning then I should be in with a chance of claiming from my insurance. I mean, if I’d received that email as I should have done, I could have alerted the police at the time of the break-in, and there would have been a good chance the culprit was caught in the act. So it seems your system is at fault, not me.’ He glared at Derek. ‘Even if I only get a proportion of my claim it will be better than nothing. Failing that I could probably sue you for my lost stock as your system didn’t do what it should. I assume you are well insured?’