Stalker. Lisa Stone

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       Chapter Three

      Derek Flint sat in his smart blue van bearing the logo of his company and, with mounting anticipation, surveyed the house and street. He’d already checked out the area on Google satellite map and street view as he did all the properties he was asked to visit – no doubt the thieves probably had too. The amount of information available on the Internet was astounding, and frightening if it got in the wrong hands. But it made his job that much easier, and very likely that of the thieves as well.

      His expert eye noted that one of their neighbours had the full works from a rival security firm. A stylish alarm box on the front of their house, correctly placed CCTV cameras and two motion-activated floodlights. Their other neighbour had nothing beyond a ‘Beware of the Dog’ sign on the side gate, which could only be effective if it was a Rottweiler or similar dog, trained to attack, and not a house pet. When he’d driven down the road he’d also picked out dummy alarm boxes with fake CCTV cameras. He’d made a mental note of their addresses. Who on earth did they think they were fooling?

      Derek checked his face in the van’s interior mirror and smoothed his hair. It was important he looked smart and presentable in his line of business, but not suited up like an estate agent or used-car salesman. You needed to instil confidence in prospective clients; these people had had a dreadful shock and felt vulnerable. Calling his business a family firm helped, and so did what he wore: navy trousers and a light-blue cotton shirt under a navy sweater bearing the company’s logo. Navy was the colour the police and security wore and engendered feelings of safety and dependability.

      Picking up his clipboard and an information pack for the clients from the passenger seat, he opened the van door and got out. It was exactly 9.30am. He was a stickler for being on time. It was important not to inconvenience prospective clients by arriving very early; and certainly not late – that was disrespectful. He couldn’t tolerate disrespect, lateness, slovenly or sloppy behaviour. It infuriated him. He upheld punctuality, accuracy, diligence, respect and accountability, much of which he felt was now lacking in today’s society.

      Opening the low front gate, he took in the two-year-old modest family car on the driveway – a middle-income family, he decided. He relatched the gate behind him and walked up the path, noticing the shrubbery that partially concealed the sideway. It was a well-maintained house, only recently modernized, so they obviously had some money. He pressed the doorbell and waited. Doubtless they’d seen his van, as would most of their neighbours. A break-in, especially one with violence, was very good for his business.

      He knew that the owners, Julie and Russ Williams, were a married couple in their late thirties with two young children, most of which he’d discovered from the Internet, together with photographs of their last family holiday, and the children’s birthday parties held in the back garden. So he had a picture of the rear of the house – just like the thieves. If people only knew how accessible their information was they’d be more careful sharing it. Smoothing his hair again, Derek cleared his throat as the front door opened.

      ‘Good morning. Derek Flint from Home Security,’ he said, handing the man his business card.

      ‘Good morning. Russ Williams.’ A firm handshake. ‘Come in. This is my wife Julie.’ Derek made a point of wiping his feet on the mat – it was only polite – then stepped in and shook Mrs Williams’ hand.

      ‘A pleasure to meet you. I was so sorry to learn of your break-in.’ His brow furrowed with concern. ‘I wish I could have seen you both sooner but I was fully booked all last week.’

      ‘Not a problem, you’re here now,’ Russ said. Julie threw him a weak smile.

      ‘Please don’t worry. We’ll soon have this place secure,’ he reassured her.

      ‘You understand we’re having other quotes,’ Russ said.

      ‘Yes, of course.’ He gave a small self-deprecating nod.

      ‘Would you like a coffee?’ Julie asked.

      ‘Perhaps at the end? If you don’t mind I’d like to crack on. I’ve a very busy day ahead.’ It was important they knew how in demand he was.

      ‘I’ll show you around and explain what we’ve got in mind,’ Russ said. ‘I’ve been researching what we need online.’

      Everyone was an expert now with the Internet, Derek thought but didn’t say. ‘Excellent. It’s always so much easier if the homeowner is well informed. This is for you.’ He put the information pack firmly into Russ’s hand. Clients were always impressed with glossy brochures. ‘I’ll talk you through it later after I’ve had a look around, if that’s all right with you?’

      ‘Absolutely. So this is the living room,’ Russ said, leading the way from the hall.

      Derek СКАЧАТЬ