Lisa Stone - Stalker

Five minutes later he pulled into Paul’s road. Paul had told him on the phone to park right outside his house this time and he’d keep a lookout for him. He switched off the engine; it was 8.35pm.

He glanced up at the house, but there was no sign of anyone although the lights were on in the hall and a bedroom. Perhaps he should text to say he’d arrived.

He flipped up his visor and looked again at the front of the house. As he did Paul appeared at the bedroom window and then disappeared. Derek dismounted, took off his gloves and removed the envelope containing the money from his jacket pocket. It crossed his mind that perhaps he should have called Paul’s bluff right at the beginning and never got involved in paying him off, but he hadn’t dared take the risk. He’d already come to the attention of the police; he didn’t need Paul making trouble for him. One sniff of anything untoward and the police would be visiting him again, possibly at home this time. Better to pay up, although he wondered what Paul’s father would say if he knew his son was a blackmailer. From what he knew, the parents seemed decent people.

With his helmet still on but the visor raised, Derek walked up to the front door. He quietly lifted the flap of the letterbox and began to slide the envelope through. As he did it was taken from the other side. He carefully lowered the flap, straightened and returned to his bike. At least that was done and would hopefully put an end to it. As he mounted his bike he glanced up at the bedroom window. Two lads about the same age as Paul appeared at the window and were watching him. Shit. Paul had friends there. That wasn’t part of the deal. What had he told them? Snatching his phone from his pocket, he pressed Paul’s number.

‘Hello, Derek.’ He could hear the cockiness in Paul’s voice. The other two lads turned from the window so he guessed Paul had just entered the bedroom.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Derek demanded. ‘This was supposed to be our secret.’

‘And so it will be,’ Paul said.

‘What have you told them?’

‘Nothing.’

‘So why do they think I’m here?’ He could see them looking at him again, then Paul reappeared at their side, the phone to his ear.

‘I told them you’re my favourite uncle and that you like to bring me gifts,’ Paul smirked. ‘Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.’

Derek saw the three of them laugh. ‘What secret?’ he said with a stab of panic.

‘I’m sure you don’t need me to spell it out,’ Paul said, and cut the call. He threw open the bedroom window. ‘Night, night, sleep tight, Uncle Derek,’ he called down.

‘Love the kinky leather!’ one of the other lads yelled while the third wolf-whistled.

Derek snapped shut his visor, started the bike and, gripping the handlebars, roared away faster than he should have done on a wet road. Anger and indignation seared through him. How dare those little runts treat him like that! Laughing at him! They were half his age; they needed to show some respect. He hated being laughed at. It reminded him of when his father had ridiculed him. He’d show them. He’d get his own back. No one messed with Derek and got away with it.

‘Flint’s haunting me,’ Beth said when she saw the Home Security logo on the alarm box at the rear of Mr and Mrs Saunders’ home. They’d been called here to investigate a burglary while the homeowners had been out.

‘But you can hardly blame Flint for this one,’ Matt said. ‘The alarm wasn’t switched on, and it’s almost certainly the cleaner. She had keys to the house, knew their routine, and has now disappeared, likely to have returned to her home abroad.’

Beth nodded.

‘But I’ll tell you what is odd,’ Matt continued as they looked around the outside of the property for any sign of a break-in. ‘That our Mr Flint installed the cameras in The Mermaid Massage Parlour that was raided yesterday.’

‘Why is that odd?’ Beth asked, glancing at him.

‘The place was empty, not a girl in sight. Just Betty sitting with a cup of tea in front of the television as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She’d been tipped off.’

Beth laughed. ‘Oh, come off it, Matt! And you accuse me of seeing connections where there aren’t any! Half the force has visited The Mermaid at some point. It’s almost on their rounds. Any one of them could have given Betty the nod. She looks after her girls and they like her. There’s a lot worse.’

Matt smiled, a twinkle in his eye. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, I thought it was a massage parlour.’

‘Of course you did. Anyway, I think we’re about done here, aren’t we? They haven’t even got a photocopy of the cleaner’s passport. I’m assuming she gave them a false name so there’s little chance of catching her or recovering the stolen goods.’

‘I’ll let you tell them that,’ Matt said, and led the way into the living room.

Mr and Mrs Saunders were sitting side by side on the sofa, he comforting his wife. ‘Did you find anything?’ she asked hopefully as they entered.

‘Nothing to suggest a break-in,’ Beth said.

‘So it was my cleaner.’ Mrs Saunders sighed, pressing the tissue to her face. ‘I can’t believe it. I trusted her. She was so nice. She showed me photographs of her family and children. Her mother was very ill.’

‘They always are,’ Matt said sceptically.

‘I’m afraid you’re not the first person to be taken advantage of like this,’ Beth said more sensitively. ‘We’ll try to trace her with the details you’ve given us but I have to tell you it’s unlikely we’ll find her.’

Mrs Saunders gave a little cry and dabbed her eyes. ‘The jewellery box was my grandmother’s. It had sentimental value. She knew that. She could have just taken the jewellery and left the box. That was so cruel.’

‘The box was valuable,’ Matt said bluntly.

Beth threw him a look. ‘I appreciate how upsetting this is. I think that having your trust taken advantage of is in some ways worse than being robbed by a stranger.’

‘It is,’ Mrs Saunders agreed. ‘I won’t ever trust anyone again.’

‘We’re having extra security installed today,’ Mr Saunders said. ‘They’re on their way here now. They’re very efficient and the owner oversees the work personally.’

‘Would that be Derek Flint?’ Matt asked.

‘Yes, you know him?’

‘A little,’ Beth said. ‘We’re finished here so if you could send in that description of the jewellery as soon as possible, we’ll get it circulated. Hopefully we’ll strike lucky and recover some of it if it’s being sold here.’

‘Thank you,’ Mr Saunders said and stood to show them out. As she opened the front door a blue van emblazoned with the Home Security logo was parking in the road. ‘Good. Prompt as usual.’

Matt and Beth began down the path. Derek saw them and hesitated, uncertain what to do for the best. As they approached he went to the rear of his van and busied himself with something inside.

‘So we meet again,’ Matt said, going up to him.

‘Oh, hello,’ Derek said, turning and feigning surprise.

‘Business picking up then?’ Matt asked.

‘A little,’ he replied, flustered.

Beth got into the car as Matt hung around Derek Flint, watching him fumbling amongst the various tools in the back of the van. Taking out a toolbox, he straightened and closed the rear doors. ‘Done then?’ Matt asked.

‘I have to go to my clients. Did you want something?’

‘No. Just saying hello. Have a good day then.’

Matt watched him scuttle up the path to where Mr Saunders was holding open the front door.

‘Why does he always look so bloody guilty?’ Matt asked as he joined Beth in the car. ‘You’d have thought he’d pinched the jewellery himself, he’s so bloody shifty.’