The Watcher : A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller

by Netta Newbound

  She loved the deli atmosphere. It was cosmopolitan and different to the market atmosphere back home. The owner, Ahmet, and his wife, Elgin, were Turkish. He was a huge, noisy man, who was always cheerful, almost too cheerful, and she was quite the opposite. Their entire family worked in the deli, and they all seemed to love it.

  Ahmet remembered her from her last visit, and welcomed her inside. “How are you settling in, ’anna’?”

  “Very well. Thanks for asking.”

  “Georgie,” he called to a young man, who was, without doubt, one of his sons.

  When the younger man turned, Ahmet put his arm around his shoulder, and guided him towards Hannah. “This is ’anna’, the young lady I was telling you about.”

  Georgie flushed deep red, clearly uncomfortable with this obvious attempt at matchmaking.

  Hannah raised her eyebrows at Georgie and smiled. The meaning wasn’t lost on him, and he laughed, and ducked out of his father’s embrace.

  After stocking up on a few items, she spotted some delicious-looking tomato and pesto sausages, and bought some for the barbecue.

  Before heading home, she called into Chang’s, the dry cleaner. An Asian man behind the counter greeted her as she entered.

  “Hello,” she said. “My friend dropped my dress in to be cleaned on Wednesday morning …”

  The man turned to the rack of garments. “Name?”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry. She actually picked it up again that same day.”

  He frowned. “Something wrong?”

  “No. The opposite, actually. It had been repaired. A bone had been added to the corset. I wanted to thank you, and pay for your wife’s time.”

  “And you didn’t ask us to repair it?”

  Hannah shook her head.

  “Then, she wouldn’t have repaired it. We can’t just take it upon ourselves to repair anything.”

  Hannah was speechless. She stood staring at the man, completely confused. “Are you sure?” she eventually said. “Can you check with her? It was a black, fitted dress. I’m not angry. In fact, I’m thrilled.”

  The man opened the door behind him, and called something she couldn’t decipher. Within moments, a small woman appeared—a worried expression on her face.

  The man spoke in their own language, and the woman shook her head, her forehead furrowed deeply.

  “Like I said, miss. It wasn’t altered here.”

  “Okay. Sorry to bother you.”

  Completely confused, she left the shop, and headed for home. Was she going crazy? First the locker and the underwear, and now, the dress.

  She headed home, and, once inside, she ran herself a bath.

  Lying in the fragrant bubbles, she smiled when she suddenly heard Simon, in his shower, singing in a deep baritone voice. You’re the one that I want. She sniggered, imagining him doing the motions as well.

  After a few more cringeworthy moments, she turned up her music, and sank deeper into the water.

  Just before seven, Hannah opened her wardrobe, looking for something to wear. She came across the black dress, and pulled it out to re-examine it. Maybe she’d been mistaken, after all.

  She sat on the bed, manipulating the fabric between her fingers, but the dress was perfect—nothing missing at all. Totally freaked out, she tried to think of a logical explanation, but there wasn’t one. She hadn’t been the only one to notice the bone was missing. The two women in the boutique had seen it, too.

  Chapter 11

  Max usually went home to the lakes on Saturdays, which was approximately a 90 minutes’ drive away, but not today. Absolutely exhausted, he let himself into the self-contained flat adjoining his office on the top floor of the AdCor building. After showering, he fell into bed.

  He was pleased the day was over. He’d never had a death at the office before, and Steve’s death wasn’t anything like a straightforward heart attack. Instead, it had been a particularly gruesome discovery. Not something he’d forget in a hurry.

  ***

  “Are you ready? Are you still coming?” Simon called from his balcony.

  She opened her door and winced, as a cloud of smoke wafted into her face coming from the direction of the barbecue. “Smells delicious,” she croaked sarcastically.

  “I’m just burning off the surface—it’s been left out here all winter. Don’t worry, I haven’t started cooking yet.”

  “Pleased to hear it. I’m coming now.”

  “The front door’s open. Just come on in,” he said.

  He handed her a glass of rosé, as she stepped onto the balcony, trying to dodge another plume of smoke.

  “Look at you, all dressed up,” he said, eyeing her up and down. “I should have said dress casual.”

  She glanced down at her favourite sunflower top and cut-off black trousers. “I am casual.”

  “If you call that casual, you must look stunning when you make an effort.”

  She felt her cheeks redden. “You’re so sweet, thank you.”

  “How’s the wine?”

  She sipped at her glass, and blinked several times at the sharp taste.

  “You hate it? I can get you something else.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “No. I don’t hate it. I’ve just brushed my teeth, that’s all.”

  She handed him the bag from the deli. “I bought some sausages when I went out.”

  “Are they the tomato and pesto ones?”

  “They are. Have you had them before?”

  He took a sip of his wine and chuckled. “I practically live on them when I’m home.”

  “Is this the usual way to entertain in Seattle?”

  “Yeah, if the weather forecast is good, most people light the barbecue.”

  “Are you looking forward to seeing your family again?”

  He nodded, suddenly serious. “My nan has been ill. Mom kept it from me, but now I’m going home, she thought she should prepare me.”

  Hannah reached out, touching his arm. “I’m sorry. That’s tough.”

  “Anyway, less of this depressing talk. We’re meant to be having fun.” He lifted the lid of the barbecue, then went inside, returning moments later with a platter of meat.

  “You’ve got enough there to feed the whole building.”

  “Slight exaggeration, but yes, I may have overdone it.”

  Hannah took a closer inspection. Lamb chops, fillet steak, chicken breast, and sausages. She groaned.

  “Don’t worry. You don’t need to eat it all in one go—we can just graze over the evening. Are you warm enough?”

  “I’m toasty. Thanks.”

  Simon loaded the grill with the meat, and brought a large bowl of salad out from the kitchen. “More wine?” He paused, with the bottle over her glass.

  She nodded, noticing her glass was almost empty. “See, I told you I liked it.”

  They sat at the table and waited for the food to cook.

  “I love sitting out here. I usually plant myself down early afternoon, and people-watch until the neighbourhood settles for the night.”

  “Don’t you go out with your friends on your days off work?” she asked.

  “To be honest, I’ve not met many people around here. My work life is hectic, and I stay in hotels with a lot of the labourers wherever the job is. By the time I get home, I’m glad of my own company.” He got to his feet to check the grill.

  With his back turned to her, Hannah looked him up and down. He was incredibly attractive—more so than Max, if she was honest. The way his jeans hung off his hips and moulded his legs would send most women into a frenzy. The plain white T-shirt he was wearing looked anything but plain, as it clung to his broad, athletic frame. The fact he was sensitive and funny was a bonus, not to mention he seemed to find her attractive, too.

  Max, although gorgeous, wasn’t interested in her, not sexually anyway. But, this red-blooded male in front of her, was.

  “So, tell me. How’s it going at work?” he asked, breaking her daydream.


  “I’m loving it. Everybody is so friendly.” A sudden vision of Angela snapping at her and marching from her office flashed through her mind.

  Simon squinted. “What was that all about?”

  “What?”

  “You winced.”

  “Oh, it’s just my boss. She jumped down my throat earlier in the week.”

  “What for?”

  “That’s just the thing, I have no idea. She said something about my timekeeping, but I wasn’t even late—well, not much, a minute, if that!”

  “That’s odd. Had you done something to upset her?” He handed her a plate and topped up her wine once again.

  “I hadn’t seen her in days. Unless, it was because I complained to security … But, no, it couldn’t have been. I didn’t do that until later.”

  Simon piled all the meat onto a fresh platter, then placed it on the table beside the bowl of salad. He sat down again. “Why did you complain to security?”

  “Oh, my gym bag had gone missing from the lockers.” She stabbed a sausage, and transferred it to her plate, cutting off a piece of chicken. “This looks divine.”

  “Why would anybody have an issue with you reporting a missing bag?”

  “Because it hadn’t actually gone missing. It seems I’d put it in the wrong locker.”

  He shrugged, and shoved a piece of steak in his mouth, chewing several times before continuing, “Easy done.”

  Hannah nodded and looked back at her plate.

  “You don’t think so?”

  “Sorry?”

  “I said, ‘easy done,’ and your eyes said different.”

  “Smart arse.”

  “Am I wrong, though?”

  “No, you’re not wrong. But, it sounds crazy.”

  “What does?”

  “I don’t believe I would’ve put the bag in the wrong locker. I’m a bit OCD about that kind of thing. My locker is the third from the left, third from the bottom, and third from the top.”

  “Was anything missing?”

  She shook her head, and placed her knife and fork down. “This is where it gets crazy. I’m sure the stuff inside had been exchanged for similar, but much newer, items.”

  “Yes, you’re right. It does sound crazy.” He sniggered, wiping his mouth on a napkin.

  “I did warn you. But, that’s not all!”

  “Go on.”

  “I bought a dress in the sale, knowing it had a fault in it. Anyway, Diane dropped it in at Chang’s for me, and when I got it back, someone had repaired it.”

  “That’s easy. Mrs Chang must’ve fixed it.”

  “Exactly what I thought, but I called in earlier to thank them, and they didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.” She took another mouthful of sausage.

  “So, you suspect somebody is fixing and replacing your belongings?”

  Hannah covered her mouth with a piece of kitchen roll while she finished her food. “I told you it sounded nuts. I’ve also had a feeling someone’s been in my flat. But, that could be my wild imagination playing tricks on me.”

  “So, nothing is moved, or missing?”

  “Nope. It’s just a feeling. A certain smell when I arrive home. But, to be honest, I’m still getting used to the flat. It could just be the natural smell.”

  “What’s it like?”

  She shrugged. “Can’t explain it. It’s not horrible—just different.”

  “Do you want my advice?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “It’s your first time living alone. When a flat has been left alone all day, it smells funky, until you fill it with your living smells—cooking, cleaning, and what have you.”

  “I suppose.”

  “At home, I bet your mum would have a meal waiting for you, and all the laundry done—am I right?”

  She nodded, grinning. “Yes, you’re right.”

  “I bet you never came home to nothing, and if you did, it would have seemed strange—right again?”

  She shrugged. “Right again.”

  Once they’d finished eating, Hannah helped with the dishes, and headed back to the balcony.

  “Here, I’ve got a blanket. It’s getting quite chilly now,” Simon said.

  They turned the chairs towards the street, and sat side-by-side, sharing the blanket. They stayed that way, putting the world to rights, watching the sun go down.

  Simon walked Hannah to her door, after polishing off three bottles of wine between them. She hadn’t felt tipsy until she got to her feet and the room went a bit squiffy.

  Just like last time, he bent in for a kiss. But, unlike last time, she welcomed it, pulling him towards her.

  So what if he wasn’t Max. He was more suited to her than Max would ever be. She was attracted to him, and he made her laugh. But, above all—they were two consenting adults.

  She turned to open the door, but they barely made it through, before he pounced on her again.

  “Do you have condoms?” she whispered.

  He nodded, his eyes drinking her in. He pulled her towards him again and spun her against the wall. He gripped her hands in his above her head, so she couldn’t move. She found it strangely erotic.

  Tearing himself away, he panted, “I need to run next door before I lose all control. Be right back.”

  She took several deep breaths and headed to the bedroom.

  When he returned, she locked her arms around his neck, as they collapsed onto the bed. She pulled his T-shirt off over his head, and launched it across the room, then buried her fingertips in his thick, chest hair.

  Once again, he tore himself away to peel off his jeans and white cotton briefs. Then, tantalising her beyond belief, he slowly removed her clothing.

  When he eased himself down on top of her, crushing his chest against hers, she wrapped her legs around his hips, and pulled him to her tightly.

  “What does this mean, lovely Hannah? You’re driving me wild.”

  “Shhh, don’t speak.” She’d lost all sense of logic and reasoning. She needed him. Right now.

  *

  Her head felt as if it was about to explode when she awoke hours later. Needing to pee, she eased herself out of bed, not wanting to disturb Simon. She needn’t have worried. He’d gone.

  Padding to the bathroom, she barely opened her eyes and winced at the fiery urine. They’d used a condom, so she hoped the burning sensation was caused by overuse, and not the beginnings of cystitis.

  She considered calling Simon, as she climbed back into bed, but it was too early. She’d leave it until the mist and thunder had cleared from her head.

  Chapter 12

  Don was snapping the wristband furiously. He’d witnessed every second of Hannah’s assault from the security hub, this time without interruption. He thought he was going to blow his top. How dare the fucking pervert lay one finger on his girl? Snap-snap-snap.

  But, he wasn’t going to lose control, like he had with Clair. He’d made a huge mistake there, and ended up losing everything. This time, he’d deal with things much more efficiently.

  As soon as he finished his shift, he sped over to Simon’s flat, and let himself in.

  He crept through the flat, noticing the wine glasses, dishes, and leftover food. He stepped on top of a pile of old records fanned out across the carpet beside a new Bang & Olufsen turntable, and smiled as the discs cracked and snapped. He headed for the only bedroom.

  On the monitors, he’d watched the bastard sneak from Hannah’s bed, once he’d had his fill of her. Don found him lying spread-eagled and naked on top of his own bed.

  A packet of condoms lay open on the bedside table, and several small square packages had spilled out. Don imagined the man rushing to grab some in his haste to molest poor Hannah. With an almighty rage, he lifted the torch high above his head, and swung down, hitting Simon hard across the throat.

  Simon shot up, both hands gripping the front of his neck. He couldn’t breathe. Choking and rasping sounds came from him as he flailed abou
t in the darkness, clearly trying to figure out what the hell had just happened to him.

  After a minute or two, the choking gave way to a wet, gargle-like sound.

  Don stepped forward and stood in a shaft of light made from a chink in the curtain. “You raping bastard! You fucking dead raping bastard!”

  Although in a bad way, Simon must have sensed he was in mortal danger, and tried to flip himself off the other side of the bed. But, he was too far gone, and fell to the carpet on the other side of the room.

  Don strode over to him. “She’s mine, and you hurt her. For that, I’ll take your life.”

  Holding the torch in both hands, Don crashed it down onto the young man’s skull, letting out a guttural roar.

  Don paced the room, until his heartbeat returned to a normal rhythm. Then, he pulled the curtain closed properly, before switching on the overhead light.

  He was surprised there wasn’t much blood—nothing on the bed, and only a pool spreading on the carpet underneath Simon’s head. But, the stain wouldn’t be noticeable from the doorway.

  He ran to the kitchen for a plastic bag, then found some tape in a drawer. Returning to the bedroom, he taped Simon’s mouth shut, then placed the bag onto his bloody head. Satisfied there was no exposed blood, Don dragged the naked man through to the kitchen.

  In his toolbox, he’d brought everything he needed.

  He checked for a pulse. It was weak, but the bastard was still very much alive, which was what he’d been hoping.

  Don waited until Simon began to stir, before he carried out the next step of his plan.

  He removed the bag, no longer concerned about the mess on the vinyl floor covering—he’d mop it up later. With a length of electrical cord, he strapped Simon’s hands and feet together, and wrapped the cord around his neck. Then, dragging him into the small utility room to the rear of the kitchen, Don opened the chest freezer. He removed several lumps of meat, making sure there was enough room.

  When Don grabbed the cord, it tightened around Simon’s throat. Then, he lifted the semi-conscious man, and dropped him inside the freezer.