Lisa Stone - Stalker

A new world had just opened up and Derek’s spirits lifted. The next time his mother came up with his dinner he accepted it and ate it in his room while making notes on what was needed for the following day.

Beth read the forensics report handed to her by Matt. He’d highlighted the salient points and was now standing beside her, his expression as sombre as hers.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Beth said as she turned to the final page. Then again as she came to the end. ‘I don’t believe it. No DNA match with Flint? To the voodoo doll, his van, motorbike, office or any of the crime scenes! In fact no DNA match at all. How can this be?’

Matt shrugged. ‘Search me.’ There was silence as the enormity of what this meant hung between them.

Beth looked at him, her brow furrowing in contemplation. ‘Unless Flint has an accomplice? Someone he sends in to do his dirty work. Flint plans the crimes and the other guy executes them, which would explain the lack of DNA.’

‘It would,’ Matt agreed, ‘and if so Flint could still be held accountable for the crimes, but as yet we have no evidence for that. All we can do him for at present is filming people inside their homes without permission and possibly – in the case of Hanks – incitement to commit a crime.’

Beth nodded thoughtfully. ‘But for that to work we’d have to show that when Flint told Hanks to view his wife on their CCTV it was with the intention that Hanks would commit the crime. At present he’s saying the opposite. He’s adamant he had no idea Hanks would react in the way he did because he’d always been so meek and mild.’ She let out a heartfelt sigh. ‘What about the digital team? Have they come up with anything?’

‘They’re still trawling through Flint’s computer and external hard drives. He deleted a lot of files so they’re having to dig quite deep to retrieve them.’

Beth nodded. ‘I saw them yesterday about the Lorrie Gates rape case. Believe it or not Flint was responsible for the CCTV covering the flats where she lived – Mansion Gardens.’

‘You’re joking!’

‘No. And you know what, I’ve just had a thought that would add to the theory Flint had an accomplice.’ She held his gaze.

‘Go on,’ Matt prompted.

‘The CCTV footage I viewed yesterday of Mansion Gardens shows the attacker going around the back of the building and entering the flat. He can’t be identified; he’s wearing a balaclava helmet. But it definitely isn’t Flint. The person seen on the CCTV is slightly built, more like a lad in his twenties, which I’m now thinking could be Flint’s accomplice.’

‘That would work except we’d already seized his computer when the rape took place.’ Matt pointed out.

‘Yes, I know. But the digital forensics guy I spoke to yesterday said Flint had been watching Mansion Gardens for eight weeks prior to the attack. He’s got all the dates and times Flint logged in. Flint could have set it up ready to go, and might even have been there out of sight of the cameras. He’d know the range of the cameras because he installed them. Derek Flint wasn’t the rapist, but his accomplice was. A leap, I know, but it’s all we’ve got and maybe not such a big jump when you know how much Flint loves to watch.’

‘Something else occurs to me,’ Matt said, warming to the theory. ‘You remember the CCTV footage we took from the Khumalos’ home?’ Beth nodded. ‘The person seen entering their house was thought to be a lad in his twenties.’

‘You’re right. I wonder how many times he features in the footage we have of the other crime scenes on the list. We need to re-examine them all.’

‘I’ll make a start,’ Matt said.

‘Thanks. I’ll join you as soon as I’m finished here, and have told the Serg what we’ve found. She’s going to love this!’

Derek greeted the new day with tempered enthusiasm. While not wholly forgiving of his mother’s actions he was marginally more tolerant of her. He didn’t bring up the subject of what she’d done again or actively avoid her as he had been doing the night before. She made him a cooked breakfast as a peace offering while he’d fetched a tin of paint from the shed and painted over the graffiti on the front door. He even found it within himself to say goodbye to her before setting off for the retail park and she’d called goodbye too.

Thankfully there were no bail restrictions other than he mustn’t leave the country, although he had to use the bus as the police still had his van and motorbike. He hated every minute of the half-hour journey. All those people invading his personal space. Much better to keep them at a distance and view them through their CCTV. He was relieved when the bus pulled into the retail park and he could get off.

My Computer World advertised itself as stocking everything anyone could possibly need in computing, claiming its ‘specialist staff’ were on hand to help and advise its customers. Derek wasn’t impressed. The assistant who intercepted him at the door soon proved he had no technical knowledge of the products beyond knowing the manufacturer’s name, the size of the laptop and how many photos it could hold. Derek’s patience quickly evaporated and he asked to speak to a more senior sales person, who turned out to know little more than his assistant. Derek sighed repeatedly as he talked to him about the products, shook his head and then finally snapped that the colour of the case was immaterial, and to leave him to choose a laptop for himself.

Two hours later he came out carrying a store bag containing the fastest, most reliable laptop with the biggest memory the store sold, two portable hard drives and a mobile phone. The return journey was more bearable as he held his precious purchases on his lap and looked forward to arriving home and getting started. Soon he would be on the path to retrieving what he’d lost and more. The omniscient, all-seeing and powerful protector of the innocent and punisher of evil would be back in business – despite the police.

Alighting from the bus at the stop nearest to home, Derek walked swiftly along his street, keeping his head down and away from the prying eyes of the neighbours. Thankfully no more press had arrived on his doorstep and no new graffiti had appeared. He took out his key ready, and quickly let himself in. Odd, he thought straightaway. The house was silent. Too quiet. No sound was coming from the television, and when he went into the living room it was empty.

‘Mum!’ he called upstairs. No reply. ‘Mum!’

Where on earth was she? She hardly ever went out alone. With mounting concern he went into the kitchen and found a handwritten note on the work surface: Gone to stay with my sister for a few days. Mum.

‘Oh, I see,’ he said out loud, surprised. She stayed with her sister a couple of times a year but usually spent weeks trying to decide when to go, then asked him to buy her train ticket, take her to the station and see her to the correct platform. Never before had she just gone like this. He’d phone her later and make sure she’d arrived safely and was all right, but for now he had more pressing matters to attend to.

His stomach grumbled, reminding him it was well past lunchtime so he made himself a ham sandwich and a mug of tea and took them upstairs with the bag containing the laptop. In his room Derek set the mug and plate to one side and with mounting anticipation carefully unpacked the laptop and placed it in the centre of his workstation. He manoeuvred his chair directly in front. The laptop looked a bit lonely all by itself after all the equipment that had been there, but that would change over time. This was just to get him going again, the beginning, and his excitement grew.