The Lover's Children novel Chapter 103

MICHAEL

As Lily pirouettes and performs, Danny nudges me. “This is Lily’s last turn. She’ll be wrapping up soon.”

“What then?”

“She’ll go home, I suppose.”

“Cab?”

“No, she walks.”

“Walks? Three in the morning with a serial killer on the loose, and she walks?”

Danny shrugs. “Cabs are expensive. None of us makes a lot doing this.” Then, defensively, “She doesn’t walk alone. She and Ginny go together.”

I jerk my chin back toward Lily’s watcher. “And what’s his pattern when she’s done?”

“He usually drinks up and leaves just after Lily finishes.” Leaning back against the bar, surreptitiously, I catch Klempner’s eye, but tap into my phone messenger.

Danny glances in. “What are you doing?”

“Calling a cab.” But I drop her a wink, sliding eyes toward Klempner.

Lily finishes next few minutes. Danny says Hoodie leaves soon after. Lily walks home with another girl

Across the room, Klempner looks down to his cupped hand, looks up at me, then taps in.

A moment later my screen flashes a reply.

goin outside. poss follow. u stay here. keep phone handy

will do

“Um… Michael, listen…” Danny picks at a thumbnail. “I walk home too. After you’re done here, would you walk with me tonight? With everything going on, I’m… I’m kind of nervous.” She gives me a weak smile. “If I’m with you, no one’s going to bother me.”

Images of Charlotte flash briefly through my head. “My wife wouldn’t li…”

She touches my hand. “All I’m asking is you walk me to my door. I promise you, my intentions are strictly honourable.”

Lily?

She’s the one with the stalker…

Klempner’s on her case…

“In that case, I’ll walk you to your door and see you inside. Okay?”

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

*****

KLEMPNER

As I slip out, Michael’s still talking to Danny. Out in the lobby, the compere’s voice vibes through. “A round of applause please for Lily!” Half-hearted clapping follows, swallowed by the night as I stroll out.

I keep it casual, for the benefit of anyone who should notice me, but inside the adrenaline’s beginning to pump and I’m struggling not to smile. It’s Him. I’m sure it’s Him.

*****

Three in the morning - the wee small hours. Here, at the height of the year, dawn is only an hour or so away. It should be the cool of the night. Instead, away from the air-con, the night is airless with heat. Oppressive, almost suffocating. In under a minute, sweat streaks from my face and neck and shoulders.

Trying to ignore it, I consider my options…

The next building along, a warehouse, or garage perhaps, faces the street with a gloomy nook of an entrance. Letting the shadow swallow me, I survey the area.

The streets are almost deserted. An occasional delivery van. An even more occasional car.

If I were stalking some woman, where would I…?

It’s painfully obvious. Indeed, Danny mentioned it.

All is in darkness save for a cafe across the road. Brightly lit, a waitress wipes over the counter then, responding to a raised hand, takes a jug from the hotplate. The scent of coffee and toast reminds me that I’ve had nothing for hours but a couple of beers.

My stomach growls and temptation tugs at me, but before I have time to react, the club door swings open again and as I reverse into my shadow, Hoodie emerges, the hood once more drawn up. Crossing the street to the cafe, five minutes later, he’s sitting at a window table, a mug and a plate of something set in front of him.

And, as Danny said, he’s watching the club entrance. Not obviously. No one looking casually would notice. But from my dim shelter, with time to watch, I see it. Between sips from the mug and bites from the plate, he keeps the Sapphire Club under surveillance.

I watch.

And I wait.

Should I call the police?

Alert Stanton?

But the hard fact is, I’ve not a shred of actual evidence against this man.

So far…

It would be impossible to prove that ‘Pat’ has sinister intentions when he’s simply attending a public venue to watch a legal show, and then stopping off for a bite to eat and a coffee before bed.

Everything hangs on what he does next.

While I wait, I entertain myself snapping him with my phone camera. I got a few of him at the bar, but the dim general lighting of the club combined with the kaleidoscopic strobes and glitter balls, pretty much screwed the image quality. Here, although at a distance and with that damn hood up again, he’s under fluorescent strips, unsubtle but bright.

Snatching for the moments when he turns front on, his face is properly exposed, I get some half-decent shots. Then, cupping my hand around the bright screen, zoom into my collection of images for a close-up and my first really good look at him.

As the girl said, an ordinary face. So ordinary, no one’s going to look twice. But something about him freaks out everyone who meets him.

Pondering that, I switch off the screen before anyone notices…

No one’s going to look twice…

And yet…

Flicking the screen on again, I look again.

Do I know you?

*****

Single men entered the club. Several exit with a woman. One couple stagger off down the street, speech slurring, not looking as though either will be much use to the other. Another leaves straightening his tie. Perhaps there are rooms upstairs.

Why’s she taking so long?

Lily finished her act some while ago. She’s had plenty of time to get changed and…

Ahhh…

proof? he followed her home

stalking gets him a restraining order not lock up. need to be sure if he’s surgeon

Ahead of me, the steady clip of footsteps resumes. Picking up my pace, I follow.

*****

He walks steadily. Not the strolling amble of taking the air, but the unvarying march of someone with a destination in mind…

A home?

Some house or apartment?

But he walks… And keeps walking…

And I follow.

The dwellings I pass become more upmarket. Instead of shabby brick-builts converted to apartments, these look like the homes of the middle-classes. Neatly trimmed lawns and flower borders frame the kind of properties where you would expect to find lawyers, doctors and teachers.

And still we walk.

Where the hell’s he going?

After nearly an hour, we pass beyond the residential areas, back into the commercial district. Streets become highways, lined by cash-and-carries, glass-plated car showrooms and furniture warehouses.

A workplace perhaps?

The pattern suggested shift work…

My mapping app is tracking the route. Even so, I’m not too sure where I am.

Large, modern, multi-windowed buildings lie ahead of me, nagging at my brain. I feel I should know where I am. It seems both familiar and unfamiliar. I’d like to check the app, but I don’t want to risk losing Hoodie through a moment’s inattention.

Abruptly, he makes a left off the sidewalk, vanishing from sight. Cursing, I sprint to catch up, skidding to a halt at his turnoff.

It’s a parking lot. City Central Hospital. Public Parking

Of course the building seemed familiar. I didn’t recognise it at first because, on my visits to see Borje, I came in from the rear entrance. Apparently, it’s considered politic to keep the morgue and the forensic labs away from obvious public scrutiny. Then again, on my first visit here, on my return from Brazil, on a dash for the maternity ward where Mitch was in labour, my mind was on other things.

The parking lot is huge. Hundreds of cars, vans and other vehicles jam the space. Revolving left, then right, then back again, I don’t see Hoodie. He could be almost anywhere out of my line of sight, behind any high-sided vehicle.

Signs point every-which-way. Emergency Department. Cardiology. Intensive care unit. Neurology. Oncology. Pathology. Outpatients…

So many different ways to be sick…

You’d think the human race’d be dropping like nine-pins…

Amazing they fuckin’ survive at all…

Shaking my head, I dismiss the thought. I still can’t see him.

Fuck!

Setting off at a dogtrot, I weave my way though the parked vehicles, all the while scanning for…

There!

Once more, the rear view of Hoodie disappearing into the main entrance. Stepping up from my trot to a dash, I reach plate glass doors which swish open, admitting me to a large central reception area.