‘Excuses for me?’ Nicole’s voice almost failed her. ‘Since when have I needed you or anyone else to make excuses for me, and anyway, I don’t believe you. Patrick would have enjoyed saying that himself. He wouldn’t have left it to you.’
‘No, that’s not right, and you know it. Patrick’s game has always been to play people off against each other. Nothing would suit him better than if we were enemies. That way he gets the best of both of us because then we’ll always be trying to outdo each other.’
Nicole was conscious of the edge of the desk cutting into the tops of her legs and Ken’s grasp on her arms. She could smell his breath as he leaned over her, a mixture of smoke and the mints he continually sucked, his face twitched and his eyes darkened with desire. ‘We don’t want to be enemies, do we Nicole? We don’t want to play into Patrick’s hands? That would mean we’d both lose out.’ He bent her arms behind her as he pushed her back onto the desk. ‘What we want to do is play our own game,’ his voice came in short gasps, ‘and you were magnificent in there. It let Patrick know just where we stand.’ His knee pressed between her legs prising them open. ‘What d’you say, Nicole? Do we work together?’
‘Yes, we’ll work together,’ Nicole’s voice was husky as she pulled him into her, but only as long as it suits me, she thought.
***
Before they left the store, Patrick handed his briefcase to his secretary, a tall, aloof blonde who accepted it without question. He did not bother to stand aside for her, but pushed through the revolving doors, expecting her to follow him. They could have waited inside because the Rolls had not yet arrived. But he needed some fresh air after the claustrophobic atmosphere of the meeting upstairs which, he had to admit, had been slightly more interesting than usual.
He had made a good choice when he brought Ken on board as an assistant director. The younger man reminded him of himself when he’d been Ken’s age, ambitious, cunning, and with a hunger to get ahead at all costs. He was a good match for Nicole who also had those qualities. Both of his assistant directors would do anything to get ahead, just as he would have done and would still do.
He smiled to himself as he thought of Ken’s presentation, so obviously Nicole’s work he would have recognized it anywhere. She had been furious, he could see it in her eyes and her body language. Still, he had to admire the way she had handled it, he could not have done better himself.
Maybe he would send her a dozen red roses with a congratulations message. It had been a long time since he had sent her roses, but then she was not as young as she was in those days.
The Rolls Royce pulled into the kerb. The liveried chauffeur got out and opened the door for him. ‘Thanks, Frankie,’ Patrick said, stepping into the back seat of the car. His secretary handed the briefcase to Frankie before sliding into the back seat beside Patrick. He laid his hand on her knee, inching the material of her skirt up until it rested on her bare flesh, although his hand might not have been there for all the response she made. The car pulled out into the traffic and Patrick gave one last glance up at the store to where the executive offices were. He wondered briefly what Nicole and Ken were doing at the moment, although he had a good idea. The silly fools thought they had kept their affair a secret, but there were no secrets that Patrick was not party to.
He turned his attention to his secretary. It would be an hour before they reached the next store and he knew how he was going to fill the time.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ken whistled as he walked down the corridor, but before he passed through the glass doors leading to the general offices, he stopped, checked his tie was straight and adjusted his collar. It would not do for the clerical assistants to notice his clothing was in disarray.
The soft buzz of conversation fizzled out as he strode into the room. ‘Hi, girls,’ he said. ‘The meeting’s over so it’s back to the grindstone.’ He smiled, a boyish grin that he knew girls and women responded to. It was his trademark.
Plonking his briefcase on the edge of one of the desks he brought out a folder. ‘Think you can get that done for me today?’
The senior administrative assistant plucked the folder from his hand. ‘The typists are busy on the new production details so I’ll do it myself,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed.’ She leaned close to him so that he could smell her perfume.
He inhaled deeply, ‘Is that a new perfume, Evelyn?’ He swayed slightly, ‘It makes you irresistible.’
One of the younger girls turned her face away and became engrossed in her computer as she tried to hide a smile, while Evelyn’s face developed an interesting shade of pink. She pulled away from him, but he followed her round the desk and took hold of her hand. ‘I just wanted you to know I appreciate your dedication to the job,’ he said. ‘And I’ll make sure you’re not forgotten if things change around here.’
Ken had no doubts that the clerical staff knew exactly what was going on and what was being considered simply because they handled everyone’s typing.
‘Thank you, Mr Moody.’ Evelyn turned an even deeper shade of pink before she moved back to her desk. ‘I’d better get started if you want this today.’ She settled down in front of her computer and started to type, but evidently remembering something, she looked up just as Ken was leaving. ‘Oh, by the way, you don’t happen to know if Mrs Ralston’s free yet?’ Her fingers poised in mid air.
Ken turned and leaned against the doorframe. ‘She’s out of the meeting if that’s what you mean, but I’d leave her in peace just now, I think she’s working on her project.’ He lowered his voice, and said, ‘And to tell you the truth I don’t think she’s finding it very easy.’
‘Yes, of course, Mr Moody,’ Evelyn’s fingers busied themselves on the keyboard. ‘Look back in a couple of hours and this’ll be ready for you.’
Ken left the lift on the fourth floor and wandered round the china department. Shining crystal winked and gleamed at him from spotlessly clean shelves while plates, cups and saucers, glowed warmly under the concealed lighting. He stopped to admire the Doultons in their revolving glass cabinet, but the Doulton ornament he had hidden away in the stock room was not among them. It was a special limited edition, a present for Claire’s birthday.
As he wandered he smiled and chatted to the various assistants, showing an interest in their sales targets and whether these were being met, while at the same time encouraging and praising them. He liked to create the impression among the floor staff that he was interested in them and their departments and he was fairly positive he succeeded in this. He was sure every member of staff thought he had their interests at heart whereas if there was a cutback he really did not care much who it affected as long as it was not himself.
Reaching the stairs he decided to walk down to the electrical department. Claire was fancying a new refrigerator and he thought, provided she chose the correct model, he could do a deal with the sales rep when he came to the store next week.
Ken had hardly stepped off the stairs when the section head, a cold, austere woman who was immune to his charms, hurried up to him. ‘Your wife was here earlier,’ she said. ‘Told me to tell you she would be in the coffee shop if you turned up.’
‘Thank you, Miss Smithers.’ Ken did not bother smiling because he knew it would have no effect. The woman was a dragon and he could never fathom why her sales figures were always so good.
***
The ground floor coffee shop was busy, but Claire had managed to get a corner table at the rear of the seating area. And, although she had to admit the coffee and cakes were excellent, she did not particularly want to be here. But she had to wait for Ken somewhere and this was as good a place as anywhere else in the store. Besides, she needed to kill some time before collecting Catriona from the nursery. Catriona was the baby of the family and she would not trust anyone else to collect her, not like Jake and Charlie her six year old twins who preferred to go home from school with their best friend Davie and his mother.
C
laire was tempted to leave the store and would have done so if she had thought it would make Ken wonder why she hadn’t waited for him. But she had always waited for Ken, had done it all her life and he was used to it. Besides she knew Ken so well she was sure that however strange he thought her leaving was, it would not trouble him. In any case she did not want to wander the streets.
She was on her second coffee before Ken turned up looking as if he had swallowed a whole churn of cream, and she could just guess which particular cat had supplied it. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him smiling at the customers while he weaved his way between the tables. He always thought she never knew about him and his affairs and when she did tackle him he acted like the injured party with that little boy lost look she had originally found so attractive. Now that she was older and wiser she was well able to resist it. However, she was getting tired – tired of him and his affairs. It was time to thwart his little diversions even if it meant she might lose him, but somehow or other she did not think she would.
‘I thought you were going to meet me in the electrical department?’ She used both hands to place her cup in the saucer, afraid that the anger starting to swell within her would make her hands shake. Anger did that to her and if it was fierce enough her entire body was liable to shake with emotion. But Claire had spent her whole life trying to control her emotions and she had developed certain defence mechanisms that probably did not do her blood pressure much good.
‘Sorry, love.’ Ken bent and kissed the top of her head. ‘The meeting dragged on and on. I thought it was never going to end.’
‘Really!’ Claire squirmed away from him. ‘Funny, but I saw Patrick getting into his car when I arrived.’ She looked at her wristwatch. ‘It must be about an hour ago.’
Ken sat down opposite her and gave her his wide-eyed innocent stare which Claire knew was the prelude to a lie. ‘Patrick didn’t stay for the full discussion. He said what he had to say, bit of a pep talk really, and left. We had to carry on and discuss what plans we would have to come up with to ensure the store remains open.’
‘I’m sure.’ Claire’s voice could have sliced concrete.
Ken wriggled slightly on his chair, ‘What does that mean?’ He no longer sounded so sure of himself.
‘It means I know exactly what you’ve been up to,’ she snapped, ‘and I tell you here and now I’m not putting up with it any longer. No more excuses, you finish it and you finish it now, or I’m gone.’ Claire gathered up her handbag and stood up. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘or you’ll never see me and the kids again.’
Holding her head high and ignoring the curious stares of the other customers she stalked out of the coffee shop and through the perfume department, not stopping until she emerged from the swing doors on to the pavement. Her exit was so speedy she almost collided with an elderly couple on the way in. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, hesitating for only the briefest moment, before mingling with the crowds and hurrying to the car park.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The dark held him in its grasp. He luxuriated in the thick, pulsating blackness smelling of must and decay.
Scratching noises and the scrabble of tiny paws whispered to him as he stood in this, his special place. He stretched his arms until his fingers brushed the raw brickwork of the wall pressing against his back.
He held his crucifixion pose for a moment, imagining he was Christ, before relaxing and sliding down into a sitting position.
It had been an interesting day.
He leaned back against the wall in the corner where the dark was most intense, and dug his teeth into his bottom lip, chewing and grinding. He did not feel his teeth tearing at his own flesh.
He had often wondered whether it would make what he did more enjoyable if he could experience the pain they felt in the final stages of the game. But, when you are busy doing God’s work it would be a sin to experience enjoyment as well.
His hands flexed as he thought of the woman and her powers.
He had watched, from one of his secret places, as she dominated all those poor fools in the boardroom. It amazed him that they could not see through her evil spell, and he was convinced she was getting stronger.
And then there was that gross scene in her office where she tempted the other man with the sins of the flesh. And he, poor fool, succumbed, unable to see she was wielding her power over him?
Fools, all of them, and she was getting stronger and stronger as each minute went by. It would soon be time. But first she had to feel the fear.
Fear of the dark. Fear of the shadows. Fear of the unknown. Fear was such a positive emotion: one to savour while he went about his business.
He stretched first one leg and then the other. His knees cracked with the effort. It was always the same, he thought, as he rotated his ankles to relieve the aches and the stiffness he was plagued with after he had spent some time in the cramped space of the ventilation shafts.
It was dark in there as well. It was like being enclosed in a coffin, the only difference was it did not have closed ends which meant he could move undetected almost anywhere in the store and spy on anyone he chose.
He shivered with pleasure as he thought of the fear that could be generated if only they knew about the shafts.
He liked the shafts – they were almost as comfortable as this deep, dark place he had selected as his resting place. A place where the sun never shone and daylight could not reach – a place where he was alone with his thoughts and his plans.
The only problem was his plan was not going as he had intended.
Last night she had felt his presence. Although he had not meant it to be so soon she had seen his shadow at her window, and the slow growth of fear in her breast had started. She knew he was watching her, silently, invisibly. The shadow in the dark – the shape-shifting shadow – always out of reach, but near enough to cause fear. That fear should have taken seed last night, and by today it should have been growing.
It had started out well, but now, after listening to the other one, she was convinced her husband was behind it. The insult of it. Spittle gathered at the corner of his mouth. His fury rose clutching him in its hot grasp until he shook and clenched his teeth.
He was greater than her husband or any of her minions. And he would prove it. Oh yes, he would prove it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It had been a bugger of a day. Nicole’s eyes stung with tiredness as she sifted through the papers on her desktop and gathered together what she needed. She packed them in her leather briefcase and clicked it shut. After a final look round, she pulled the door of her office closed and turned the key in the lock, before heading down the corridor to the glass dividing doors. Barging through them she almost collided with a workman in a dirty tan boiler suit.
She glared at him. ‘What are you doing here? This is the executive floor.’
The man stood motionless, looking at her with impassive light blue eyes. ‘Sorry, miss, but the security guard said I had to check this floor.’
There was something about those eyes that made her uneasy. It was as if he was talking to her, but not really seeing her. Her insides shrivelled and she suddenly wished that someone else would appear. Anyone. Even Harry would have been welcome.
‘Where is the security guard?’ she snapped, pulling herself together. It would not do to let this unsavoury looking workman know he had unsettled her.
‘Downstairs, miss, in the guardroom.’ His eyes did not waver.
‘So why are you doing his job up here?’
‘It’s the traps, miss. I have to check the traps.’
‘Traps? What traps?’
‘The ones I had to put in the ventilation shafts. For the vermin, you see.’
Nicole shuddered. ‘Vermin? What vermin?’ She was aware she was repeating herself and her annoyance increased.
No emotion showed on the man’s face, and his voice was calm and measured. ‘It was because of the noises, see. Scrabbling noises the typists said. So the traps wer
e put in, and now I need to check them. See if anything’s been caught.’ He paused as if thinking. ‘Probably nothing there. Probably just the typists’ imagination, but I still have to check.’
‘Well, couldn’t you do it later? After everyone’s gone home.’ Nicole gritted her teeth. The man was so slow and deliberate she was sure he did not have all his senses.
‘Sorry miss, but I thought everyone was gone.’ His eyes appeared opaque giving the impression there was no intelligence or understanding behind them.
Nicole glared at her watch. ‘Damn, is it that time already?’ Glancing at him dismissively, she started to walk to the lift. ‘Well I suppose you’d better get on with it then, but make sure you don’t make a mess.’
‘Yes miss,’ he said.
Although Nicole was reluctant to admit it, even to herself, the workman had startled her. She had this odd prickle at the back of her neck, the one she had experienced frequently over the past few weeks. It was the strangest sensation which made her feel as if someone was watching her. It made her wonder if his eyes were following her as she walked away from him. Thankfully the lift doors were open when she reached them but, although she tried to resist it, she could not help glancing back along the corridor as she entered. She just had time to register that no one was there before the doors swished shut.
A laugh, half hysterical, half giggle, escaped from her lips. Scott was maybe right when he told her she was becoming paranoid, she really must pull herself together.
The basement food hall was gloomy and deserted when she got out of the lift. Only the security lighting was on, and it did little to illuminate the vastness of the area other than create pockets of shadows, which seemed strangely menacing. The back of Nicole’s neck was prickling again and she hurried past the aisles of food that led into the darkness of the interior. Reaching the door that led to the stairs she slipped through it and clattered upwards to the middle landing. The security guard would be in the guardroom in the back corridor so once she left the stairs she would be safe.
Night Watcher Page 10
