Stalker

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘Good heavens! Pinch me, I must be dreaming. A box of chocolates from my son!’ Elsie Flint scoffed, but Derek could see she was pleased. ‘Have you won the lottery?’

‘No, Mum, it was just a nice gesture to brighten your day. I’ve taken on a new client.’

‘Good for you. Dinner is ready. I’ll dish up.’ She placed the box of chocolates on her chair and went into the kitchen.

Derek had to admit that he was feeling pretty pleased with himself. What had started off as a shit-awful day with the Hanks saga looming over him had dramatically improved. He’d done the decent thing and visited her in hospital, convinced himself it wasn’t all his fault; had thrown the police off his trail, and then just now he’d taken on a new client – Ms King.

Ms King had telephoned straight after DCI Peters, saying she wanted to accept the estimate he’d sent her. She lived with her elderly mother and carers came in during the day while she was at work. Her mother was bed bound and Ms King had concerns she wasn’t being looked after properly, so wanted cameras inside the house, upstairs and down. This was just the type of client Derek liked. He’d be in their home, living with them and part of their family, and it wouldn’t be long before he could provide the information she wanted on the carers.

With so much positive stuff coming his way he’d felt a pang of guilt on the drive home when he’d remembered how he’d spoken to his mother after she’d told him she’d let the police in, so he’d stopped off and bought her a box of mixed chocolates. Unlike Mrs Hanks he didn’t know what sort of chocolates she liked or, come to that, her preferences in most things. She was just there – his mother.

Five minutes later, hiding his disappointment at the chicken ready meal she’d dished up, Derek shook out his napkin, picked up his knife and fork and began eating, the weather forecast drifting in from the television in the living room.

‘I could take you shopping at the weekend if you like,’ he suggested magnanimously.

‘Whatever for?’

‘I don’t know. Whatever you want. New clothes?’

‘What would I be wanting with new clothes? Unless you’re planning on getting married.’

‘Some women like going shopping,’ he said, trying to ignore the slight. But her comment stung now as they always did, for they both knew it was highly unlikely he’d marry. She had a habit of meeting his suggestions with a sneer or a put down. He knew it wasn’t what mothers were supposed to do. Many of his clients were mothers and he’d seen how they behaved. He also knew that many women liked to go shopping so it wasn’t as ridiculous as she’d made it sound. Mrs Hanks liked shopping. He’d heard her arrange many shopping trips with her friends on the phone; retail therapy, she called it, and he grew sad again at the thought of her lying in that hospital bed.

‘All those crowds,’ his mother said, ‘and the clothes are made for stick insects.’

‘It was just a suggestion. Let me know if you change your mind.’

‘I won’t.’

The meal continued in silence save for the occasional chink of cutlery on china and the background noise coming from the television. Derek was grateful when they’d finished and he could wash the dishes, then escape to his room. As he passed the open living-room door he glanced in and saw his mother sitting in front of the television with the box of chocolates open on her lap, eating them one after another. She was clearly enjoying them, so why not accept them graciously and thank him? It wasn’t a sign of weakness. He would never understand his mother, but then neither had his father.

Relieved to be in his bedroom, he bolted the door. He hadn’t got around to adding a lock yet and the need seemed to have diminished. His mother had learnt her lesson and wouldn’t let anyone in again, and the police were off his trail. He settled into his office chair at his workstation. The first thing to do was to email the list of clients and apprentices to DC Beth Mayes. Then he’d spend the rest of the evening with his clients. He might even finish off the evening with a visit to The Mermaid to relax him before going to bed.

The Windows software loaded and he opened the file on his apprentices. Just as well he was a conscientious and meticulous record keeper, he had all the details he needed and more to hand. Opening a blank word document, he copied in the names and contact details of all his apprentices. That was all the police were having; they could find out anything else they needed about the lads themselves. Then he did the same with the details of his clients. This took longer as there were many more of them. Once complete, he attached both files to an email and typed in the body:

He added his company sign-off and pressed send.

Now to business.

Launching the live streams coming from his clients’ cameras, he relaxed back in his chair. The thumbnail images began to appear in their neat rows across all four screens. But what was this? Some were missing. There were blank spaces where they should have been. Leaning forward, he waited to see if they would load; perhaps the software was running slow this evening? But no more images appeared. Perhaps a reboot would sort out the problem? It was always the first option. He shut down the system and rebooted, mildly irritated he was wasting time. The Windows screen appeared followed by the thumbnail images but the gaps were still there, exactly where they had been before. Blast! He’d had more problems with his computer in the last two months than he’d had in the previous ten years! What the hell was going on?

He counted ten gaps in all dotted randomly across all four monitors. He clicked on a couple of the blank spaces, hoping the images might appear but nothing did. Could all ten CCTV systems be down together? It had never happened before and why hadn’t the clients contacted him reporting a fault? Unless their systems had only just gone down? That might explain it. His heart sank. It was Friday and U-Beat nightclub’s busiest evening. They might not open with their CCTV down.

Quickly bringing their file on screen, he keyed in the number of their office phone. It rang for some time before it was answered.

‘U-Beat nightclub,’ a man said gruffly.

‘Sorry to disturb you. This is Home Security. Are your cameras working?’ he asked anxiously.

‘I think so, just a minute. I’m in the office, I’ll check on the monitor.’ A pause, then, ‘Yes, they’re all working.’

‘Oh. I see. Good.’ Derek thought for a moment. ‘Has anything been changed today on any of your settings?’

‘Not as far as I know but I’ve only just come on duty. Oh, hang on, there’s a note been left on the desk.’ Derek waited as he read the note. ‘The password was changed earlier today, but that’s all.’

That would explain it. ‘Why was it changed, do you know?’

‘No idea. I’ve just come on duty. Everything is working. Is that all you want?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’ He said goodbye and replaced the receiver.

The change in password had locked him out just like it had with the Khumalos. It wasn’t a big problem; he’d pay them a routine maintenance visit and learn the new password. Firms were happy to tell him their login details for everyone trusted their security firm. Yet while this explained why he hadn’t been able to access the cameras at U-Beat nightclub, it didn’t explain the other nine systems that were down. Too much of coincidence that those clients had suddenly decided to change their passwords all on the same day! He’d once had two changes within twenty-fours after a television programme about hacking, but ten at the same time was unheard of.

He now brought up the Osmans’ file – another one that was missing and whose contract he’d been lucky to keep after the last break-in – and keyed in the telephone number for their shop. It was answered on the third ring by Mr Osman in his usual brusque manner.

‘Osman speaking.’

‘Good evening, Mr Osman,’ Derek said, at his most conciliatory. ‘Derek Flint from Home Security here. Sorry to disturb you but are your cameras running?’

‘As far as I know. Why shouldn’t they be? You haven’t got another system error, have you?’

‘I don’t know. Could I ask you to check please?’

‘My wife will do it. She’s on the laptop now.’ Derek then heard him say, ‘It’s the bloke from the security firm. He wants you to check the cameras are working.’ He waited. Mr Osman came back on the line. ‘Yes, they’re working,’ he confirmed.

‘Good. Have you changed your password?’ He knew he couldn’t ask too many questions as it would start to sound suspicious and further undermine his efficiency.

More muffled voices and then Mr Osman again. ‘My wife changed the password after the policewoman phoned. They haven’t caught anyone yet for the break-ins but she advised us to change all our passwords. She said it was good practice to change them every few months.’

‘Yes, indeed, thank you. I’m pleased everything is functioning as it should be.’ He said goodbye and ended the call.

Derek sat back for a moment and thought. Another change of password but with a reasonable explanation. Even so that still left eight unaccounted for. He’d have to contact them all, go through them alphabetically, starting with Mr and Mrs Abbot.

He tried their landline and got no reply, then both their mobile numbers went through to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message. Curtis was next and thankfully, he answered.

‘Mr Curtis, Derek Flint from Home Security. Sorry to disturb you. I’m checking to make sure your CCTV is working. We’ve experienced a few minor technical problems today. I wanted to make sure your system was fully operational.’

‘Yes, it’s fine, thank you, but it’s a coincidence you’ve phoned now.’

‘Is it?’ Derek asked, trying to keep the edge of anxiety out of his voice. ‘Why?’

‘The police phoned earlier about the break-in we had last year. While we were talking, the officer mentioned that we should change our passwords, so I did. I thought that’s why you were calling, to check I had.’

‘Yes, that’s right. I was. Good. Thank you. Glad everything is as it should be.’

Saying a quick goodbye he hung up and tried to settle his racing heart. Coincidence yes, but not in the way Mr Curtis had thought. Three passwords changed on the same day, two after a call from the police. There was something going on here, but what? A knot formed in his stomach and he took a sip of water. There was nothing else for it: he’d have to try to contact all those whose cameras were down to see if they had changed their passwords too. Mary Grey was next and he knew he needed to tread carefully as understandably she’d become very nervous since her abduction.

He entered the number of her landline and it rang a couple of times before she picked it up. A pause, and then her timid voice: ‘Hello? Who is it?’

‘Miss Grey, it’s Derek Flint from Home Security.’

‘Who?’

‘Derek Flint. I fitted your alarm system.’

‘Yes, what do you want?’

‘This is a courtesy call to check that your system is working.’

‘Yes, it is. I’m watching it on my television now.’ She hadn’t been able to afford a separate monitor so he’d connected the cameras to a channel on her television. ‘And you can see all the cameras?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you changed your password today?’

‘Yes. Did the police tell you?’

Derek felt an icy chill run down his spine. ‘About your change of password?’

‘Yes – Beth, that nice lady detective, phoned me about the investigation into my kidnap and said I should change the password on my surveillance system.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Can you tell her I have done so?’

‘I will. Why were you viewing your cameras just now when I phoned? Is there a problem?’

‘No. I often look at them, it makes me feel safe.’

‘That’s fine then. That’s what they’re for. Take care.’

He said goodbye, set down the phone and stared straight ahead, trying to calm his thoughts. Was he overreacting? Becoming paranoid? Or was there something going on he didn’t know about? Another password had been changed after a call from the police. This time he knew it was Beth Mayes who’d phoned. He hadn’t thought to ask the others who had called them. Could it simply be a police initiative to keep people safe online? It was feasible, he supposed. The police ran crime prevention drives every so often – road safety, keeping children safe, saying no to strangers and so on. Was that what was happening? He sincerely hoped so.

The next client he phoned didn’t answer but the next two did. Twenty minutes later he had succeeded in contacting another six and all had said they’d received a phone call from DC Beth Mayes updating them on the police’s investigation and recommending that they change their passwords. He was now struggling to know what exactly to make of this.

It was perfectly reasonable that she should be updating the victims about their investigations into the crimes against them, and if they were running a campaign for online safety then it made sense to tell them to change their passwords at the same time. Yet it still seemed a coincidence – a big one – that this was all happening now. Perhaps this was the end of it and no more of his clients would change their passwords and disappear from view. Even so Mayes had created a lot of extra work for him; he’d have to visit all these clients now to gain their new passwords on the grounds of a routine maintenance check.

While he’d been making the phone calls a couple of emails had arrived in his inbox. The first was from a new customer thanking him for the ‘great job’ he’d done, which was always good to receive. The second had the subject as security update and he opened it.

His delight at receiving the first email vanished as his indignation and his anger flared. The bastards were still targeting him and telling him of all people to update his security! There was no unsubscribe link, which he knew was illegal. He closed the email but didn’t delete it. When he had more time he’d examine the code behind the email and hopefully get to the bottom of it. But not now. Now he needed to spend time with his extended family and friends. It had been a stressful week and he needed their reassurance and comfort more than ever.