Lisa Stone - Stalker

‘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?’