Lisa Stone - Stalker

‘He said they learnt what they needed and then left to get a better paid job. Having seen his office, I can’t imagine he paid them more than he had to.’

‘Perhaps, or maybe there’s another reason.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know yet but I have a feeling that Flint is hiding something and not just about his past. I’ll visit Paul on my way home. Do you want to come?’

‘No. I’m meeting someone straight after work.’

‘Date?’

‘Sort of. An old friend got in touch through Facebook.’

‘Have a good evening.’

‘I will.’ He winked.

‘I left because the pay was crap,’ Paul said with a deferential glance at his mother. It was nearly 5.30pm and Beth, Paul and Mrs Mellows were in their living room. They’d covered what Paul’s role had been while he’d worked at Home Security and the reason for Beth’s visit, and had now moved on to why Paul had left. Paul’s father, brother and sister weren’t home yet.

‘How much did he pay you? If you don’t mind telling me,’ Beth asked.

‘The minimum for an apprentice my age, three pounds fifty an hour,’ Paul scoffed.

‘That’s not much,’ Beth sympathized, ‘although I suppose you were learning a trade.’

He shrugged.

‘I said he should have stayed until he got another job,’ his mother said. ‘A hundred pounds a week is better than nothing.’

Beth could appreciate that at Paul’s age he might have acted impulsively.

‘I’ve got an interview lined up for next week,’ he said.

‘Well done. So while you were working for Derek Flint he taught you all about the business – enough to apply for other jobs?’

‘Not about his business, no. He just taught me the job, you know – how to fit the cameras and wire the alarm.’

‘Yes, that’s what I meant really,’ Beth said. ‘There was just you working for him?’

‘Yes.’

‘For five months?’

Paul nodded.

‘It’s a very small firm. When you applied were you expecting it to be bigger?’

‘I guess,’ Paul said with a shrug.

‘His dad said he wouldn’t have let him take it if he’d known it was just him and Derek Flint,’ his mother added.

Beth nodded. ‘But he treated you well while you worked for him?’

‘Yeah, I suppose.’ The boy wasn’t being very forthcoming, Beth thought. She was getting more from his mother.

‘You said earlier that you thought your boss was a bit weird. What exactly did you mean?’

‘I dunno. It was none of my business really. He just seemed a bit of a loner. A Billy No-Mates. He rides his motorbike at weekends, otherwise he’s always working. He lives for his work and takes it very seriously – too seriously.’ It was the most Paul had said so far.

‘Paul said he thought Derek liked blokes, not girls, if I’m allowed to say that,’ his mother put in.

‘What’s that got to do with it?’ Paul sneered. ‘I didn’t tell you that.’

‘No, but I heard you talking on the phone.’

‘You got no business listening to my calls,’ Paul snapped, rounding on his mother.

‘It’s OK,’ Beth said. ‘As long as he treated you all right. He was in a position of trust and responsibility when he employed you as an apprentice.’

‘Yeah. He was just a bit of a loner.’

‘I understand. Well, thank you for your help. I think that’s everything. If you do think of something else please give me a ring.’ She placed her business card on the coffee table.

‘So you just wanted to make sure those robberies you mentioned weren’t anything to do with Paul?’ his mother asked, seeking clarification.

‘Yes, that’s more or less it,’ Beth said, and stood. ‘Thank you for your time Mrs Mellows.’ Then to Paul: ‘Good luck with the interview next week.’

He shrugged dismissively.

‘I’ll see you to the door,’ his mother said.

Beth said goodbye to Paul and followed his mother out of the living room. ‘He didn’t quit his job,’ his mother confided as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘Paul doesn’t like to admit it but he was fired. No warning, no notice, just out the door. Flint told him business wasn’t good so he couldn’t afford to keep him, but I overheard Paul tell his mates that he’d upset him by showing him something he didn’t know about his business.’

‘Do you know what it was?’ Beth asked.

‘Something about the system failing to send an email when it should have done.’

Beth nodded. ‘That makes sense. Thank you.’

‘I don’t know any more. Paul doesn’t confide in me or his dad. But when he came home that day he was furious and I heard him on the phone telling his mates what had happened.’

‘Thank you,’ Beth said again. ‘I hope he gets another job soon.’

‘So do I. The devil finds work for idle hands.’

A strange thing to say about your son, Beth thought, as she returned to her car but what she’d learnt was interesting. According to Flint, Paul had left for a better paid job but he hadn’t. Paul didn’t have a job and had been sacked because he’d pointed out a fault in the system. She could picture Derek Flint flying off the handle and dismissing Paul for identifying an error. His tightly controlled manner suggested a ticking time bomb. A conformist, perfectionist, inflexible and worried about what others might think of him, there was no room in such people for criticism or failure. Beth had seen it before in her stepfather. Charming and obliging to the point of ingratiating himself, unless you crossed him – and then all hell broke loose.

That evening as Derek returned to his workstation after dinner, his phone bleeped with an incoming text message. It was from Paul.

Police been… didn’t say anything… want the rest of the money tonight.

Was everything OK? Derek texted back.

Yes! Drop off the other £500 at 8pm.

I will.

It was now 6.30pm. Setting aside his phone, Derek clicked on Paul Mellows’ file and then made a note of the police visit. He would enter the second payment later when he returned after delivering the money. In preparation, he took the envelope containing the five hundred pounds from the locked drawer in his desk and set it to one side. He had time to check on a few of his clients before he needed to change and leave.

Buoyed up and relieved by the news that the police visit had passed without a problem, he now felt in a better frame of mind to take care of his clients. A quiet confidence of being in control again was starting to return. Soon he would be back in the driving seat and governing those he was responsible for rather than covering his back, which he felt he had been doing for the last few weeks. His place was a leader, a maker of decisions, not someone who was beholden to others or intimidated by the police. He was Derek Flint of Home Security, all-seeing and powerful, almost god-like in his omniscience.

But wait, what was this? His attention went to screen two. The live stream that should have been coming from the Khumalos’ cameras wasn’t there. The place where the thumbnail image should have been was blank. A sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach.

Derek clicked the mouse on the spot where the images should have been, wondering if the hide feature had accidentally been triggered, but nothing appeared. It wasn’t a technical fault, there was no error message and all the other cameras were functioning as they should. It could only mean one thing: Mr Khumalo had done as he’d threatened to do and gone to another security firm. Once they’d taken over its running they would have created a new password and he’d have been locked out.

He took a deep breath. There was no need to panic. He’d lost a client. It wasn’t the end of the world. Mr Khumalo had done what he’d said in his voicemail message. Derek hadn’t called him back, so he shouldn’t be surprised. He just hoped he didn’t carry out his other threat and sue him for negligence.