Night Watcher

by Chris Longmuir

  Once she was in the shadows she stopped and leant on one of the supporting pillars to catch her breath. Traffic rumbled above her head, but she was hardly aware of it and it did little to impinge on her thoughts or her mood.

  Soon she found what she was looking for in one of the furthest away parking spaces, where the section of the roadway above only cleared the top of the sports car with a few inches to spare. Julie smiled grimly when she saw it. How much pressure, she wondered, would it need for a knife to pierce the hood’s fabric? And a scratch on the electric-blue bodywork would show up a treat. Running her hand along the shiny surface of the Porsche Boxster, her fingers itched to do the damage. But Julie drew back. She had other plans for Nicole: plans that did not include petty vandalism. When Julie paid her back she would make sure Nicole knew why.

  The late afternoon sun was shining down into the compact open area beyond the parking place. Often she had sat there watching Nicole come and go. Nicole had never noticed her. But today was different. The watching brief was over and it was time to put her plan into action. So she withdrew into the shadow of one of the pillars. Her position was ideal for what she had in mind. Nicole would have to drive past this pillar to the exit.

  It was over an hour later before Nicole came. Julie listened until her heels stopped clicking on the tarmac, the car door slammed and the engine revved. She risked a quick look and saw the wheels start to move. It was time.

  Counting under her breath as she had done every night this week until she had got the timing right, Julie closed her eyes and stepped out in front of Nicole’s car.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A frisson of excitement shot through him as he watched the other one step in front of the woman’s sports car. His heartbeat quickened in time with the motorbike engine which throbbed between his thighs. His palms were sweaty inside his leather gauntlets and a fine mist gathered inside his visor.

  Such an emotional reaction surprised him. But gradually his pulse slowed and he started to wonder why the other one would have done such a thing.

  Once he had identified the chosen one, it had been like it always was when he was on a mission. He had followed her, learning her routines, watching her, and remaining unseen.

  But he had not anticipated the other one; this other woman who also watched and followed his chosen one. Why would she do that? Was she also on a mission? A mist seeped into his brain and he shook his head to clear it. He had to retain clarity of purpose, and surely he would have known. God would have told him.

  But the other one was there and there was no doubt in his mind that she also was watching and waiting. Intrigued, he had followed them both.

  And now this! There was no reason for it. To deliberately step out in front of the car was an act of stupidity.

  Nicole, for that was her name, was shaking as she got out of her car. It would only take a moment to rev the engine of the motorbike and send her flying into purgatory, just as she had done with the other one. But he restrained himself. It was too early and there was much to be done. She had not suffered enough.

  He revved the motorbike engine and sped past her as she bent over the body.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The stiletto heel of Nicole’s shoe snapped when she floored the brake pedal. Her heart pounded and adrenalin zipped through her body. Christ, there was no way she’d be able to stop the car before she hit the bloody woman. There was a thud and the engine cut out as the car shuddered to a stop. Nicole stared unbelievingly through the windscreen, but the woman was no longer to be seen.

  The knot of sickness gathering in Nicole’s stomach rose until she tasted bile at the back of her throat. She must have hit her. She tried to get out of the car, but was overcome by a severe dose of the shakes. Closing her eyes Nicole rested her head on the steering wheel. Where had the woman come from? One minute she had been driving out of the car park as usual and the next there was this woman right in front of her car. Christ, maybe she’d killed her.

  If only the shaking would stop she would be able to find out. She gulped in a mouthful of air. Deep breathing, that was the answer. It always helped her when she had to present her ideas to the board. But this was not a bloody board meeting. This was something entirely different. Something she had never experienced before.

  Gradually her breathing calmed and she gained enough control of her nerves to stumble out of the car. Swearing under her breath, she hobbled round the bonnet. And that was when the shakes hit her again, for the woman was lying on the ground and she was not moving.

  ‘Christ!’ Nicole muttered, falling to her knees. Grasping the woman’s wrist she felt for a pulse, but could not find it. Either she was dead or she had not found the correct spot. She sat back on her heels, feeling vulnerable and at a loss. What would other people do in a situation like this?

  A motor bike roared past and she stood up, waving her hands at the rider to stop. But he kept going.

  Sinking back to her knees, she placed her hand on the woman’s chest. She could not detect anything. Then she placed her fingers on each side of the woman’s neck – that was what actors in television dramas did – and could have cried with relief when she eventually found a pulse. Just at that moment the woman’s eyelids flickered and she moaned.

  ‘Stay still. It’s all right,’ Nicole said, although it wasn’t all right. She would lose her licence over this and it was not her fault. The woman should never have walked in front of the car. ‘I’ll phone for an ambulance.’

  ‘No! I think I’ll be fine if you help me to my feet.’

  ‘But you might have broken something.’

  The woman grabbed Nicole’s wrist in a vice-like grip, preventing her from standing up.

  ‘No, you don’t understand. I can’t be taken to hospital. I just can’t.’

  Nicole, catching a glimpse of fear in her eyes, wondered what she was afraid of. And if she didn’t want an ambulance how would she react to police involvement? It would be interesting to find out.

  ‘The police have to be informed about accidents and they’ll probably insist on a medical check up.’

  The woman’s eyes widened. ‘No, you mustn’t. I’ll be all right if you just help me up.’

  ‘But it’s an accident. I have to report it.’

  ‘No!’ She struggled to a sitting position without releasing her grip on Nicole’s wrist.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because he’ll find me, that’s why.’

  ‘Would that be so awful?’

  She laughed bitterly. ‘Awful doesn’t come into it.’

  Nicole’s brain raced. Maybe she would not lose her licence after all. But, if she left the woman here and someone else found her, she would really be in trouble for not reporting the accident.

  ‘You can let go now.’ Nicole tapped the fingers that grasped her wrist. ‘I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.’

  The woman closed her eyes and a flicker of something passed over her face. Nicole supposed it was relief.

  ‘But I can’t leave you sitting here.’ Nicole wobbled as she stood up, stared for a moment at her ruined shoes and then kicked them off. Reaching out her hand, she said, ‘Hold on to me and when I pull, grab hold of the front of the car and push yourself up.’

  Grasping her under the arms Nicole heaved, but she was heavier than she expected and she almost fell when the woman slipped sideways.

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t seem able to help myself much.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Nicole gritted her teeth as she struggled to regain her balance. If the bloody woman couldn’t stand maybe she would have to send for an ambulance after all. But one final heave had her on her feet.

  ‘My bag,’ the woman started to lean over.

  ‘Don’t!’ Nicole grabbed her. ‘I’ll get it. But let’s get you sitting down first.’ Nicole, afraid to let go of her in case she fell, helped her to the passenger seat in the car.

  ‘Thanks,’ the woman murmured, closing her eyes and allowing her h
ead to flop back against the headrest.

  Nicole scooped up her shoes, threw them into the car, and then bent to rescue the bag, but the jacket inside it had spilled out and one of the sleeves was firmly pinned beneath the front tyre. Bloody lucky it hadn’t been her arm, she thought, as she reversed the car to release it.

  ‘I’m afraid your jacket’s probably ruined.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Don’t you care?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Where’s your car? I’ll drive you over to it.’ Something about the woman was making Nicole feel uneasy.

  ‘I don’t have a car.’

  If she did not have a car what was she doing in the car park? It didn’t lead anywhere. A chill slithered down Nicole’s spine. ‘You meant to jump out in front of a car,’ she accused. ‘Why the hell did you pick mine?’

  The woman shrugged. ‘It was there and you were driving faster than most of them.’

  The weariness in her voice intrigued Nicole and she remembered a time when she too wanted to finish everything. She had a sudden urge to help this woman. Maybe by doing this she would have done something worthwhile.

  ‘What’s your name?’ She turned the key in the ignition.

  ‘Julie,’ after a moment’s hesitation she added, ‘Forbes.’

  ‘Well, Julie,’ Nicole said with a glow of satisfaction because she was doing something nice. ‘You’re in no state to take yourself anywhere so I’ll drive you home. Just tell me where.’

  ‘You’re so kind.’

  A slight smile flickered over Julie’s lips and, once again, Nicole felt a tinge of unease.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Julie suppressed a smile at Nicole’s sharp intake of breath when the car slid to a halt outside the tenement.

  ‘This is where you live?’

  ‘Yes, I was lucky to get the flat. It came vacant when a previous tenant topped himself.’ She glanced sideways at Nicole, but quickly masked it by pretending to have problems unbuckling her seat belt.

  Everything was working out beautifully. The staged accident had hurt a bit and she would probably have some bruises to show for it, but the puffa jacket had cushioned the blow. Lucky she had thought of that. And now Nicole was on a guilt trip and it was just about to get worse, because Julie had brought her back to the place where Dave had died.

  ‘I’m not making a good job of this,’ Julie said breaking into Nicole’s trance. ‘But my shoulders are sore and I can’t get it unbuckled.’

  Nicole leaned over and pressed the release button. The belt shot up almost hitting Julie in the face and making her jerk backwards. Nicole did not seem to notice and she had not switched the engine off. Was she getting ready for a quick getaway?

  Julie eased herself forward in the seat, but made no move to leave the car. Nicole was not going to get off as easily as that, she thought grimly. She had not risked her life to let her escape now. It was of the utmost importance that Nicole accompanied her upstairs, so the moan when she moved would have to be good.

  Julie twisted in her seat and reached for the door handle. ‘Ow!’ She gasped and clenched her teeth. She had not needed to act, the pain in her shoulder and hip was all too real.

  Nicole frowned. ‘You sure you haven’t broken something?’

  ‘Not entirely,’ Julie said, willing Nicole to get out of the car and help her. ‘But I think it’s only bruising. I’ll be able to judge better when I get inside.’

  Nicole sighed and switched off the engine. ‘I’d better help you.’

  Not before time, Julie thought, but only said, ‘Thanks, that would be very kind of you.’

  The entry door swung shut behind them and Julie, leaning heavily on Nicole’s arm, shuffled along the corridor leading to the stairs. Nicole slowed as she drew level with the door that had been Dave’s. Julie saw a flicker of panic in her eyes, and couldn’t resist saying, ‘That’s where he lived.’

  Nicole flinched. ‘Who?’

  ‘The tenant I was telling you about, the one who topped himself.’ Julie steered Nicole towards the stairs. ‘Hanged himself just there,’ she said, pointing to the stairwell. ‘They said he tied the rope to the banister on the landing up there and then jumped.’

  A vision of Dave, legs dangling, body swaying and face contorted rose in Julie’s mind. She shuddered and blinked back the tears pricking behind her eyelids. For, although she could feel Nicole cringing at her side, thinking of Dave was hurting her more than Nicole.

  ‘Does it bother you?’ Nicole’s voice was strangely quiet.

  Julie shrugged. ‘Not really. I didn’t know him and I don’t believe in ghosts.’ In her mind she apologized to Dave for denying him.

  ‘My flat’s one up.’ Clenching her teeth she climbed the stairs. It was time to build on Nicole’s guilt and sow the seeds for the relationship with her that was essential for Julie’s plan to succeed.

  ‘This is it,’ she said, watching Nicole’s expression. The flat was a replica of the one downstairs with which Julie was sure Nicole must have been familiar.

  Nicole’s expression did not falter. ‘If you’re sure you’re all right I really should get back . . .’

  ‘Don’t go just yet.’ Julie’s brain whirled trying to think of a way to prevent Nicole from leaving. ‘I was going to make a cup of hot, sweet tea – for the shock, you know – but I don’t know if I can handle the kettle. It’s my shoulder, you see.’ God, slow down she told herself, she was starting to babble.

  ‘You really should see a doctor,’ Nicole said. ‘You may have dislocated your shoulder.’

  ‘No! No doctors!’

  ‘Why ever not?’ Nicole sounded exasperated.

  ‘I daren’t do anything that could lead to him tracing me.’

  A spark of interest flared in Nicole’s eyes. ‘Why would seeing a doctor lead to your being traced?’

  ‘He works for the health service, you see. He has access to medical records.’ Julie embroidered on the lie she had started in the car park.

  ‘Would it be so awful if he traced you?’

  Julie shuddered. ‘If you think these bruises are bad you should see the ones he’s given me. I’ve had broken arms, black eyes and once he even broke my jaw. So the answer is yes, it would be awful if he found me. He’d probably kill me.

  ‘It wouldn’t be so bad, but I left a damn good job in Aberdeen – I was manager of a fancy goods store – and I had to leave it all behind. I can’t even access my bank accounts or he’d know where I was. And if I don’t get a job soon I don’t know what I’ll do.’ Julie had chatted with Betty who worked in the restaurant and knew that Drake’s Department Store needed a food hall manageress. She hoped Nicole would take the bait.

  Nicole poured the tea she had made into two china mugs. She ladled several spoonfuls of sugar into Julie’s. ‘Here, get this down you,’ she said, ‘it’ll help with the shock. And then we can talk about how I can maybe help you.’

  Julie suppressed a shudder. She hated sweet tea.

  ***

  Three weeks later, in mid-September, Julie started work as manageress of Patrick Drake’s food hall and, as she complimented herself on succeeding with the first stage of her plan, she plotted out the next stage. But it would be a long, slow process and would require a great deal of guile and all her resources to become Nicole’s friend.

  PART TWO

  November 2008

  CHAPTER NINE

  He had been following her for more than four months and now felt he knew her better than she knew herself.

  She was an evil woman and the voice had instructed him to watch her. It was his mission in life to ensure she did not grow too strong and destroy everyone.

  He could not allow her to grow stronger. That would be disastrous. So he watched and waited, and although he made sure she could feel his presence, she never saw him. But he was certain she knew, certain she could feel him there, always behind her, always watching. He could tell by the way she looked over her shoulder, par
ticularly when she was somewhere quiet, or in a dark and lonely place.

  It was quiet now, in the garden of her house: the kind of quiet where the wind holds its breath, and small animals of the night freeze into silent watchfulness.

  The ground was soft beneath his feet, but not too soft. There would be frost tonight, he could feel it in the air and see it reflected in the bright ring imprisoning the moon in its hazy grasp. But he must depart before the grass silvered round his footprints, for he must not leave any trace of his presence, except for the shiver down her spine.

  He hid in the dark shadows of the shrubbery, merging with them until he became a shadow, while the aroma of frosted earth nipped his nose mingling with the odour of the decaying blackbird lying at his feet. He inhaled deeply, savouring the fascinating mixture of smells. There was nothing more fragrant to him than the smell of death and decay.

  He watched her enter the house, fumbling in her bag for the key. As usual it had slipped to the bottom, merging with the pens, nail scissors, combs and the other bits and pieces that jumbled about there.

  He knew what was in her bag, just as he knew what was in every room of her house and every inch of her office. He knew what she had in her dirty washing basket at this very moment, and was familiar with the smell of her and everything she used. He could close his eyes and know she was there just from her perfume and her more intimate body smells.

  She felt safe at home. This was her castle, her protection. She had not yet suspected it had been invaded, and that even here he was watching.

  That would soon change, for the time was drawing near.

  The house was in darkness, a brooding, pulsating darkness that pleased him. However, he knew the light in the lounge would come on in a moment for she always followed the same routine. He prepared for this by moving further into the shadows. He did not want her to find him here. Not yet anyway. But the temptation to let her know he was watching her was strong tonight. He wanted to destroy the illusion that even here, where she thought she was safe, there was nowhere she could go to escape him.