Stalker

He rewound to an hour before the incident and trawled through the footage, again concentrating on what was going on at the edges of the camera. His patience was eventually rewarded and he now saw what the police had presumably seen – what looked like the same figure entering the alley thirty minutes before the attack, but not detailed enough to make an identification, and no sign of a motorbike. He watched the footage for a few minutes more, then satisfied he had the same information as the police, closed the file.

Moving his chair to the centre of the workstation, Derek made a brief scan of all the live streams on all four screens, making sure nothing untoward was going on that might require his attention in the families he monitored. He zoomed in on a couple of images, then stopped at the Williams’ house, zoomed in and engaged the microphone on the camera in their living room. Mrs Williams was on the telephone, talking to her babysitter whom he recalled was their goddaughter. She was asking if she was free to babysit that evening for a few hours, and apparently she was.

‘That’s great. Thanks, Sophie, sorry it’s short notice,’ Mrs Williams said. ‘We won’t be late. Yes, come here for seven o’clock and Russ will take you home after.’ Derek had missed why she and Mr Williams were going out at short notice but he now knew their goddaughter was called Sophie. He liked to know all their names; it made him feel part of the family life he so yearned for.

His mother called from downstairs to say that dinner was ready and he clicked the mouse to put the system into sleep mode before going down. At least this meal would be freshly cooked and not dried or congealed from being kept warm in the oven for hours. She was already sitting at the table in the kitchen, waiting for him before beginning. The table as usual was covered with the faded flowered tablecloth and laid with the correct cutlery and the condiments set in the centre. They ate like this, even though there was just the two of them and even though he was sure she’d have been happier with her meal on a tray in front of the television. It was sad seeing her sitting there waiting for him, touchingly pathetic.

‘They’re putting CCTV in the flats where my sister lives,’ she said, picking up her knife and fork as he took his seat.

‘Oh yes?’

‘She was surprised we didn’t have it here. Why don’t we, Derek?’

‘Mum, when I asked you, you said you didn’t want it. That it would make you feel self-conscious.’

‘Yes, it would.’

He looked at her, not sure what to say for the best. ‘Don’t worry. This place won’t be burgled. You’re in most of the time and there’s little of value here for them to take.’

‘Whose fault is that?’ she snapped.

Derek didn’t reply. He knew the answer only too well. After his father had walked out, his mother had discovered he’d been borrowing heavily against the house and there was nothing left. It had taken Derek years to repay the debts, and the mortgage was still sixty per cent of the value of the house. He resented it too but he wished she wouldn’t keep harping on about it. It just made her more bitter.

‘Nice bit of braising steak,’ he said.

They ate the rest of the meal in silence, then she returned to her chair in the living room while he washed up. It was part of their routine, their almost-harmony. Thank goodness he had his work.

He poured himself a glass of water and went upstairs as the theme tune of the first soap of the evening began in the living room. Dinner was timed around the soaps. She occasionally watched the news but not often. She said there was too much suffering in the world. She preferred the fictional world of the soaps.

What was it the poet TS Eliot said? Derek thought as he entered his room: ‘Human kind cannot bear very much reality.’ How true. He had liked poetry at school and would have liked to have studied it in higher education, but going to university had vanished along with his father and the debts he’d left behind.

Rolling his chair to the centre of the workstation, he brought the monitors out of sleep mode and the screens filled with the thumbnail images of the live streams. It was just starting to get dark outside and Derek liked this time of evening most of all. As the natural light faded and the infrared sensors took over, the pictures were tingled with a light pink hue, creating the impression of a magical fairy-tale land. Day and night images were harsh and uncompromising compared to this. He sat back in his chair and savoured the scenes for a moment. Then it was time to get to work.

Leaning forward with his arms resting lightly on the desk, Derek began scanning the thumbnail images and was immediately alerted to the living room of the Williams’ home again.

‘Sophie!’ he said aloud, shocked. She was lying on the sofa with her legs and arms wrapped around a lad Derek hadn’t seen before and assumed to be her boyfriend. ‘I bet Mr and Mrs Williams don’t know he’s there.’

He zoomed in so their image filled the screen and clicked on the speaker icon to engage the microphone on the camera. Grunts and groans, heavy breathing, sighs of pleasure accompanied the writhing bodies, as they kissed and groped each other. Disgusting, Derek thought. How old was she? He didn’t know but would guess fourteen, and the lad looked a couple of years older. They paused for a moment to drain the last of their drinks, ice cubes melting in the bottom of the cut-glass crystal tumblers.

‘Another G and T darling?’ the lad said in a voice that presumably was supposed to be an imitation of Russ’s.

Sophie giggled. ‘Oh, darling, I daren’t take any more of their gin; they’re sure to know it’s been watered down.’ She giggled some more.

Infuriated, Derek watched as they set their empty glasses on the floor and continued groping each other. The lad ran his hand under Sophie’s top and began fondling her breasts. She closed her eyes and moaned with delight. A few moments later the sound was interrupted by a child calling from upstairs.

‘Ignore it,’ Sophie sighed from underneath him.

You little cow, Derek thought. Mr and Mrs Williams trusted you to babysit and you’ve betrayed their trust, big time. But of course it was for reasons just like this that people fitted cameras inside their homes: stealing, underage drinking, and neglecting or maltreating the children or the elderly they were supposed to be in charge of.

As the couple’s passion grew, so did Derek’s anger and indignation. He loathed it when decent people were taken advantage of. It upset him and made him angry which was why he’d set up his online surveillance in the first place. Deceit and betrayal were near the top of his list of sins and part of his mission was to help those he found being taken advantage of. He hadn’t been able to help his mother all those years ago when his father had been deceiving her, so he was making up for it now. It empowered and emboldened him and made him feel more of a man.

The groping resumed and the lad pulled up Sophie’s top and lacy bra, exposing her pert tits. He started sucking her nipples. Ignoring his own arousal, Derek concentrated on the screen. The child had stopped calling out now, presumably having given up or gone back to sleep.

‘Let’s use their bed, it’s more comfortable,’ Sophie murmured.

The lad raised his head with a stupid grin on his face and climbing off Sophie pulled her to her feet. Giggling conspiratorially, they ran out of the living room and disappeared from the camera’s view, presumably upstairs. Time to act.

Derek minimized the image of the now-empty living room and launched the system’s email account. He couldn’t rely on Mr and Mrs Williams viewing their CCTV recording of the time they’d been out and discovering the betrayal for themselves. Busy people rarely viewed their CCTV footage unless they had reason to – and Derek was about to give them a very good reason.

The third standard email on his list of templates was entitled camera warning. Derek clicked on it, inserted the email addresses of both Mr and Mrs Williams and pressed send. He prided himself on monitoring his systems personally. He liked to be in control. With the satisfaction that comes from knowing justice is likely to be swift and sweet, he sat back and waited.

Chapter Nine (#ulink_83105d35-04d8-52a8-be91-9f69e5e27f76)

In the restaurant the waiter had just asked if they’d like to see the dessert menu.

‘I couldn’t possibly,’ Julie Williams said with a small sigh of satisfaction from having eaten a delicious meal.

‘I will,’ Russ said.

Julie raised her eyebrows. Russ was supposed to be trying to lose a few pounds that had built up around his middle from too many business lunches.

‘There’s no harm in looking,’ he said with a smile. The waiter went to fetch the menu.

‘Have whatever you fancy,’ Julie said. ‘We don’t do this often. It was a lovely suggestion, coming here. Thank you. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it.’

‘Good, I’m pleased.’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘I know I don’t say it often, but you do know I love you, don’t you?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said, returning his smile, ‘although it’s nice to hear it. I love you too.’

The waiter returned with the large leather-bound menu and set it in front of Russ, open at the dessert page.

‘I’ll give you a minute to decide,’ he said, leaving them to study it.

Russ began reading out the list of delicious desserts: ‘Chocolate fudge cake, banoffee pie, raspberry trifle, apple pie, cheesecake. Hmm.’ Julie smiled. ‘And all served with whipped cream. Are you sure I can’t tempt you?’

‘No, I couldn’t possibly. You have one though.’

Russ felt his phone in the top pocket of his shirt vibrate with an incoming text message, and took it out without taking his eyes from the menu. Then Julie’s phone in her handbag beside her chair also bleeped. He glanced up and putting the menu on the table swiped the screen on his phone. Julie took her phone from her bag. They always checked messages straightaway when they were out in case it was their babysitter with a concern about the children.

‘It’s an email from Home Security,’ Russ said. ‘Subject, camera warning.’

‘So is mine,’ Julie said, immediately concerned.

He read out the message as Julie saw the same words on her phone: ‘This is an automated message to alert you to a possible breach of security in your surveillance system. Please log in and check your cameras now. If you have forgotten your password, click on the link below.’

‘Do you think there’s something wrong?’ she asked anxiously.

‘It could be a camera malfunctioning but we should check as the message says. You know our password?’