Stalker. Lisa Stone

front of his pants and then took a tissue from the box and held it ready. Masturbating, he followed the rhythm of Susan and her client, never taking his gaze from the screen until the last moment when his eyes snapped shut in ecstasy and his body contracted into orgasm. A small cry escaped his lips and he relaxed. He needed that – the release. Much better alone than with someone. It was so much safer; they didn’t laugh.

      After wiping himself dry, he threw the tissue into the wastepaper basket, then tucked himself in and zipped up his trousers. Now to business. He looked at the other sites on screen one. Methodical in surveillance as he prided himself on being in all other aspects of his life, Derek had arranged his clients in alphabetical order, using the first letter of their surname or that of the establishment if it was a business. So A to F were on screen one, G to M on screen two and so on. Bart’s Corner Shop was on screen one. There’d been no sign of the hooded thugs who had twice robbed and terrorized the shop owner and his wife at knifepoint. Satisfied all was well, Derek checked the other sites on screen one before moving to the next monitor.

      His most recent clients, the Williams, were on screen four, and he clicked on their thumbnail image, which brought up the views from all their cameras. Everything appeared to be working and he clicked on the exterior cameras first, enlarging them one at a time to fill the screen. He was pleased with the clarity. Although it was pitch-black outside, the infrared was working well, as he knew it would be, so he could see almost as much as in daylight.

      Satisfied that all was well outside their home, Derek now clicked on the image coming from the camera in their living room. It was a comfortable and homely room, welcoming and relaxing. He’d thought so while he’d been there earlier. He assumed the children, Jack and Phoebe, were in bed as there was no sign of them in the living room; just Russ and Julie sitting side by side on their sofa, enjoying a glass of wine on a Friday evening. A cosy scene and one he envied; the snatch of normal family life with the children in bed and the parents spending quality time together. A proper family, not like his.

      He clicked on the speaker symbol to engage the microphone in the camera – a little additional touch his clients didn’t know they had. Russ and Julie – he felt he knew them well enough now to use their first names – were discussing next year’s holiday. They were thinking of taking the children to Disney World in Florida. Very nice, lucky kids. Derek smiled to himself. They were a lovely family and he was pleased he could help them. Reassured all was well in the Williams’ home, he clicked the mouse to return their image to a thumbnail, took a sip of water, and then moved the cursor to U. Now to the real business of the night – which might not be so warm and cosy.

       Chapter Six

      Derek watched as Kevin Brown took his place in the gloomy doorway of U-Beat nightclub. At six foot two inches tall, he was broad chested, with muscles gorged from steroids and weight training. His face was that of a fighter, his nose flattened and misshapen and his skin pockmarked with scars old and new. At twenty-three he was an arrogant bastard who considered himself in peak condition and hoped to enter the world of professional boxing. Before those dreams were realized, to get by he took work where it was offered. Jobs that required a big, bad-looking guy. He was under no illusion about his appearance, and even bragged about it, but it was an asset in the ring and in his other work. If you needed the frighteners putting on someone to warn them off or repay a debt, then it was no good sending along some little prissy. He was the man for the job. And it was surprising just how many who owed money and claimed they had nothing suddenly found a wad of cash when he turned up on their doorstep, even before he’d become ‘persuasive’.

      Tonight, as with most Friday and Saturday nights, Kevin was working as a bouncer for U-Beat nightclub. There was just him on duty at present but another bouncer would join him at ten o’clock, half an hour before the club opened. They kept the queue in order, sent away those who were already pissed, high, or out to make trouble, then once the club doors opened, allowed the clubbers in one at a time, frisking them as they entered: a quick pat-down, and a search of the girls’ handbags, checking for drugs, drinks and weapons. There were already a dozen or so early birds in the queue who wanted to make sure they got in. U-Beat was the only nightclub in Coleshaw town, and there wasn’t much else going on so it was popular.

      ‘Hi Kev,’ two girls called. Heavily made up and ready for a night out, they tottered over to him on too-high heels.

      ‘Hello, ladies,’ he said, straightening. ‘How are you?’ They were regulars.

      Derek shifted in his chair. He had a good idea what was coming next.

      ‘We’re good, aren’t we?’ Chelsea giggled, nudging her friend.

      ‘Yea,’ Tracey said. ‘We’re good.’

      ‘How’s the kids?’

      ‘Brats but we love ’em,’ Chelsea replied for them both.

      ‘You clubbing tonight then,’ Kevin asked, ‘or just here to chat me up?’

      ‘That depends, don’t it?’ Chelsea replied, and they both giggled.

      ‘On what?’ he asked, feigning ignorance.

      ‘On whether you let us in, Kev,’ Tracey said.

      Kevin leant slightly forward, peered out from the doorway at the short queue lining up against the wall to his right. ‘If you join the queue now you’ll get in no problem,’ he said, suppressing a smile.

      They giggled again. ‘You know we haven’t any money, Kev, to pay to get in,’ Chelsea said.

      ‘You haven’t spent all your benefit money already?’ he exclaimed in mock surprise. It was a similar conversation every Friday evening. They were both teenage single mums and didn’t have twenty pounds each to get in. Once inside it was easy to get guys to buy them drinks.

      ‘Kev, stop teasing us,’ Tracey said. ‘You’ll let us in, won’t you?’

      ‘I’m thinking,’ he said, obviously enjoying the banter.

      ‘What you thinking, Kev?’ Both girls grinned seductively.

      ‘About what you can do to persuade me,’ Kevin said, looking over their heads.

      ‘I can’t,’ Chelsea said, ‘I’ve got me monthly, but Trace can.’

      ‘Is that right?’ he said, bringing his gaze back to Tracey.

      ‘Yea. But you let us both in. Special offer. One for two.’ They laughed and his eyes creased into a smile.

      He glanced up at the CCTV camera trained on the entrance, at present with him framed in its doorway. There was another camera just inside the door.

      ‘You know where,’ he said to Tracey. ‘But don’t make a song and dance about it or you’ll get me fired.’

      Tracey took the hint and quickly slipped out of view of the camera and disappeared down the alley that ran alongside the club. Chelsea went to take their place in the queue as Kevin stepped out of the doorway. ‘I’m going for a slash, mate,’ he told the guy waiting with his girl at the head of the queue. ‘I’ll be back shortly. Keep an eye on things and I’ll let you in for nothing.’

      ‘OK, mate.’

      Undoing the button on his black three-quarter-length coat as he went, Kevin turned the corner into the alleyway and out of sight of the camera. He could just make out Tracey waiting for him in their usual place. She and Chelsea were interchangeable and took it in turns to give him his Friday night treat, his bonus to make up for low wages and their ticket into the club. Although they were out of sight of the cameras, he was supposed to be on duty so they needed to be quick. But part of the excitement for him was in the immediacy. The fuck without foreplay.

      Flattening her against the wall, he quickly undid his trousers, yanked up her short skirt and pulled aside her thong. She groaned as he thrust into her, from pain or pleasure he didn’t know – or care.