Lisa Stone - Stalker

‘And there is now?’

‘Yes, I believe so. Ron McKenzie is one example. He only went out one evening a month to a Freemason’s meeting. While he was out he was broken into and his place trashed. I now know his CCTV was fitted and maintained by Home Security.’ Beside her, Matt let out an almost inaudible whistle.

‘But some of the incidents you were originally investigating weren’t break-ins, but assaults that happened away from the house. The barrister, for example, that was run down by a motorbike. What was his name? Tom Murray.’

‘Yes, ma’am; a motorbike mounted the pavement. A witness said it looked deliberate. Derek owns a motorbike.’

Aileen looked at them thoughtfully. ‘I’m not seeing the connection here. There was no CCTV in the street where that incident happened, was there?’

‘No ma’am, but if Flint had been spying on Tom Murray he would have known his movements from watching him and listening to his phone calls. And the same could be said of Mary Grey, the woman who was abducted,’ Beth continued in a rush. ‘Whoever snatched her knew exactly where she’d be and that she’d be alone. He also knew her name. She said she had no idea who her abductor was and didn’t recognize his voice. He grabbed her from behind, bundled her into a van, blindfolded her, drove her around and let her go. I’ve spoken to her on the phone again just now, and about six months before the attack she had Home Security fit an alarm and two cameras. She accesses it online and the default password was changed to the first two letters of her first and last name plus ten.’

There was silence. DCI Aileen Peters held her gaze while Matt stood beside her, open-mouthed and incredulous.

‘Who else have you on your list?’ Aileen Peters asked.

Beth looked at the sheet of paper she’d brought in and read off the names, ending with, ‘Kevin Brown, doorman at U-Beat nightclub.’

‘You’re including him?’ Aileen Peters asked, surprised. ‘He was knifed in the alleyway at the side of the club.’

‘Yes, the club’s surveillance system was upgraded a year ago and maintained by Home Security. The attacker seen entering and leaving the alleyway was dressed in motorbike leathers just like Flint owns. I haven’t been able to reach the club’s office yet to ask about the password but I will do.’

‘And motive?’ Aileen Peters asked. ‘What could Derek Flint possibly have against all these people? You’ve included Hanks on your list but even if Flint had been spying on them all he didn’t beat up Mr Hanks’ wife. Hanks has confessed and it is shown clearly on the CCTV he was responsible.’

‘That’s right, but Flint could be said to have incited Mr Hanks to do it by sending him the email telling him to log in and view his CCTV – at the exact time his wife was on the sofa with her lover. Otherwise it’s a hell of a coincidence. Mr Hanks only attends these work do’s twice a year; at other times he doesn’t go out in the evenings without his wife.’

‘But what has Flint got against Mr Hanks or his wife?’

‘I don’t know yet. I need more time,’ Beth said with a small sigh. ‘But I’m sure there’s a motive somewhere, even if it’s only apparent to Flint.’

‘Have you spoken to any of Flint’s apprentices to see if they know anything?’ the DCI asked. ‘Working with him they might have seen something untoward.’

‘I have spoken to Paul Mellows. He was Flint’s most recent apprentice, but he didn’t appear to know anything. We can speak to him again if you like, and contact some of the others.’

‘I think that would be a good next step,’ the DCI said.

‘I’d also like to obtain a list of all Derek Flint’s clients,’ Beth said. ‘Then I can check them to see how many have been burgled or attacked after the security had been installed.’

DCI Aileen Peters nodded. ‘Yes, indeed. I told Mr Flint that I’d phone him back once I’d spoken to you both. I’ll request a list of his clients in a way that won’t raise his suspicions. Once you have enough evidence, apply for a warrant to search his house properly and seize his computers. Make this a priority. If you’re right, then he’s highly dangerous and needs stopping.’

‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you,’ Beth said.

‘Well done, both of you. Keep me posted, and please log all this; I don’t want any more surprises.’

‘Absolutely, ma’am,’ Matt said. Having taken the few steps to the office door, he held it open for Beth to go first and then closed it again behind them. ‘Why didn’t you tell me earlier?’ he said outside. ‘I’ve been shitting myself all morning.’

Beth smiled mischievously. ‘I only made the connections today myself. Hanks triggered it. He said it was a horrendous coincidence that his CCTV system sent a message in error on the very night he was out. That rang bells with the Osmans and other incidents on the list I was investigating. You remember, Matt, the one you mocked and called my giant string theory.’

‘I take it all back,’ he said, returning her smile. ‘And thanks. You didn’t have to let me share the credit in there.’

‘You’re welcome. Now you can help me prove I’m right or you’ll look as silly as me.’

Visiting times for the high dependency ward (HDU) at St Mary’s hospital were from 2pm to 8pm. Derek planned to arrive at the hospital at 2.10pm, hoping no one else would be visiting Mrs Hanks. If there was anyone there he’d leave straightaway without even saying hello. He had a large box of chocolates tucked under his arm. He had wanted to bring her a bouquet of flowers, bright and forgiving; pink carnations, pale-blue hyacinths, red roses as an apology. But he’d found out while looking for the visiting times on the hospital’s website that in line with most hospitals they no longer allowed flowers on the wards for fear of bringing in infection or triggering allergies. So he’d done the next best thing and bought her a box of chocolates. He hoped she enjoyed them.

He felt bad, really bad. He’d never intended Mrs Hanks should be physically harmed. He hated violence, abhorred it; even watching it on the television or Internet made him cringe and turn away. He didn’t like to see people hurting each other, he wanted everyone to be kind. In his ideal world there would be no violence and every child would have two loving parents. It was OK to teach someone a lesson as long as it didn’t involve violence; that had been his intention with Mrs Hanks. He had wanted to teach her a lesson for all the times she’d cheated on her husband. Never for a moment had he thought Mr Hanks would react as he had, attacking his wife with that large spanner and beating her unconscious. He’d always been so placid and accommodating. It had shaken Derek rigid.

Derek parked his van in the hospital car park and made his way in through the main entrance, hoping Mrs Hanks was making a good recovery. He knew from watching their CCTV that she’d been alive when the ambulance had taken her away. At that point, Mr Hanks had gone with the police, presumably to make a statement. Derek hadn’t slept properly since, and not knowing how she was or what Mr Hanks had told the police was becoming unbearable. There’d been a small piece in the local newspaper, just saying that a woman had been found unconscious at her home in Princess Street and a man was helping police with their enquiries. There’d been nothing about how badly she’d been hurt, although being in HDU wasn’t a good sign, he thought. When he’d telephoned the hospital to find out how she was, the nurse had said they only gave out information to the next of kin and he should contact her husband. Clearly that was impossible, so he’d decided to visit in person.