Chapter 34
He sat in his car and waited patiently as dusk settled in. It wasn't going to be much longer now before the street was blanketed with darkness. The time when the boogey man comes out to play, he said to himself as he chuckled softly. He was happy that the lawyer, Robertson, had done his thing, filing the big lawsuit against the whole police department. Stupid fucking cops. That lawsuit would keep them from interfering with his plans. Everything was unfolding, just the way he'd planned.
He looked over at the house he'd been watching. The lights in the second floor apartment had come on a short time ago. He'd been patient with this one, wanting to make sure there were no mistakes. He'd spotted her in the campus pub, her blonde hair tied back, the cute ponytail bouncing this way and that as she talked and shared a drink with friends. He'd gotten close enough to look into those big blue eyes of hers as she chatted with a girlfriend. He'd felt a surge in his body looking at her, realizing the resemblance was even closer this time than with any of the others.
He'd quietly backed away, keeping his distance in the bar as he nursed his drink and watched. Eventually the group left and he followed them outside, overhearing her and another girl get on their cell phones to call a cab as the group dispersed. He quickly walked to the parking lot where he'd left his car, pulling it out of the lot, but still within sight of the two girls waiting under a street light. The cab arrived and they both jumped in the back. He slipped in behind the cab as it left the campus, circling back over to Richmond Street before turning east on Cheapside. As it neared Waterloo Street, the cab pulled to the curb and she got out, waving goodbye to her friend. She turned towards a house set back from the street. He saw her go up an exterior stairwell at the side of the house, and waited 'til he saw a light come on upstairs.
He'd driven by the house a couple of times over the past few days, watching the comings and goings of the people that lived there. He had checked the website on which the university posted listings for accommodation close to campus, and had found the address listed there. The Ford Escape he often saw parked in the driveway belonged to a couple in their mid-50's who had made the listing: 'One bedroom upstairs apartment in quiet neighbourhood within walking distance of campus.' It was shown in the listings as 'Currently Occupied', but he was about to change that.
He'd been patient, watching her come and go a few times, making her way up and down the stairs to her apartment, knapsack slung over one shoulder. But he'd waited long enough-it was Saturday, and now he wanted her for the rest of the weekend. The people who owned the Ford Escape had driven out about half an hour ago, and he knew she was in the house alone. As dusk gave way to night, he knew it was time. He started the car and drove past the driveway and then quietly backed in, pulling as close to the stairs leading to the upper apartment as he could. He checked his pockets, making sure everything he needed was there. He pulled out the syringe and plunged the tip into the little glass vial he held in his other hand, watching as the clear liquid filled the tube. He slowly pushed out the tiny bit of air, flicking the syringe with his fingertip to make sure the liquid was flowing. He carefully slid it back into the pocket of his windbreaker. He reached over to the passenger seat, putting on a ball cap and picking up a pizza box he had there, pulling on some oversized plastic-framed glasses as well. He stepped quietly out of the car and eased the door shut silently. He stepped to the back of the car and slipped the key into the trunk lock, setting it ajar. He took one last look up and down the street before mounting the stairs, pizza box in hand. He knocked at the door, the kitchen area of the small apartment visible through sheer curtains that covered the window in the door. He heard movement and then saw her approach, dressed in jeans and a black sweater, her pretty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail.
"Who is it?" she asked, pushing the wispy old curtain to the side and looking out through the glass panel in the door.
"I've got the pizza you ordered," he said, holding the box with the name of the well-known chain on it, at the same time pointing to his cap that bore the same logo. He saw her look at him and he gave an innocent smile that seemed to satisfy her.
"I'm sorry," she said as she opened the door and stood facing him. "I didn't order a pizza."
"Are you sure?" He looked down at an order slip he had in his hand. "Isn't this: upper apartment..." and then he proceeded to read off the correct address on Cheapside Street.
She leaned forward to see what was written on the invoice. "That's the right address, but I didn't order a pizza."
"Oh damn. We've got a new girl taking the delivery orders and she keeps screwing things up. If this is all wrong, you may just get a free one. Do you mind if I call in and check this out," he said, not even waiting as he stepped in and set the pizza down on her kitchen table. He reached into his pocket and pulled his cell phone out. "I'm sorry. This'll just take a second."
"Uh, okay," she said, a little uncomfortable, turning back to make sure the door was still partway open. As she started to turn back towards him, he was right in front of her, mere inches away. She instinctively started to step back, but he reached forward and grabbed her, his other hand coming up in a flash to the side of her face. She felt a sharp prick in her neck as his hand covered her mouth, and then felt herself start to fall, her eyes closing as blackness overwhelmed her.
He eased her to the floor and then quickly slipped on a pair of latex gloves. He saw her purse sitting at the end of the kitchen counter and opened her wallet, wanting to know her name. He pulled out her driver's licence: Nicole Fletcher, aged twenty. Nicole-he loved the name, and the age was perfect.
He put her wallet and purse back in place, lifted the pizza box off the table and made his way outside and back downstairs. He tossed the box, hat and glasses back on the front seat, and took another look up and down the street before raising the lid of the trunk. Satisfied no one was out and about, he hurried back upstairs, lifting up the girl's limp body and carrying her downstairs, easing her softly into the trunk before closing the lid.
Every Breath You Take Page 56
