I See You(56)

The abbreviated words and the combinations of letters with numbers would have told her the text was from Lexi, even without seeing her sister’s name. Kelly didn’t know anyone else who still wrote texts as though it were the nineties. She imagined her sister frowning over the tiny screen, patiently holding down each key on her ancient Nokia to cycle through the letters.

0809 4 733 968

A thought began to take shape, and she brought up the keypad on her phone. She looked at the number four; at the letters beneath it.

G. H. I.

Reaching one-handed for her notebook, she flipped it open randomly, flicking the lid off her pen and writing down the letters without taking her eyes off her phone.

There were four letters beneath number seven: P, Q, R, S. Kelly wrote them all down.

Up next, two number threes: the letters D, E and F.

Kelly scribbled furiously, the briefing forgotten as she worked her way through to the last number. She picked up her notebook and scoured the numbers, looking for a pattern, a word.

I.

A space.

S. E. E …

I SEE YOU.

Kelly took a sharp intake of breath. She glanced up to see DI Rampello looking at her, his arms folded.

‘Do you have an update on the investigation you’d like to share with us?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Kelly said. ‘I think I do.’





The first match I witnessed was hardly a matter for the police.

There was a girl on the Bakerloo line. Every Friday she’d get off at Piccadilly Circus and buy a lottery ticket for the EuroMillions.

‘These are the winning numbers,’ she said to the man behind the counter, as she handed him the money.

He laughed. ‘You said that last week.’

‘This time I’m sure of it.’

‘You said that, too.’

They both laughed, then, and I knew this was a conversation they had every Friday, at exactly this time.

The following Friday I watched her get off the train at Piccadilly Circus and make her way to the newsagents.

He was waiting for her.

Standing five metres or so from the kiosk, pumping his fists by his sides like he was psyching himself up for a job interview. Expensive suit; nice shoes. A man with more money than time. He stopped when he saw her; wiped his damp palms against his trouser leg. I expected him to speak to her, but instead he fell into step with her, walking towards the kiosk and reaching it a fraction before her. He’s lost his nerve, I thought.

‘A lucky dip for tonight’s EuroMillions, please,’ he said. He paid for it and took the ticket. ‘These are the winning numbers, you know.’ The girl behind him smiled to herself.

He made a show of putting his wallet away, waiting to one side so he could interrupt as the girl asked for a lucky dip of her own. ‘I think I jumped ahead of you in the queue. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s fine, really.’

‘But what if you were meant to have this ticket?’ He handed it to her. ‘Take it. I insist.’

She protested, but not for long. They smiled at each other.

‘You can buy me dinner if you win,’ he joked.

‘What if I don’t win?’

‘Then I’ll buy you dinner.’

You can’t deny you’d have enjoyed that encounter. You might have blushed at his approach; perhaps even found it a little forward. But you’d have been flattered; grateful for the attention from a good-looking man. Someone rich. Successful. Someone you might not otherwise have met.

Now that you know what I do, you’re intrigued, aren’t you? You’re wondering what information I’ve collected about you; what’s listed on my ever-growing website. You’re wondering if you’ll be stopped, like this girl, by an attractive stranger. You’re wondering if he’ll ask you out for dinner.

Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. Maybe he’s already found you; already been watching you. Maybe he’s been following you for weeks.

Life’s a lottery.

He might have something entirely different in mind for you.





17


Listed: Friday 13 November

White.

Late thirties.

Blonde hair, usually tied up.

Glasses (may wear contact lenses).

Flat shoes, black trousers with fitted top. Red three-quarter-length waterproof coat.

Size 12–14

0810: Enters Crystal Palace Tube station. Speaks briefly to busker, and throws coin in guitar case. Takes the Overground northbound to Whitechapel. Changes to District line (westbound), boarding carriage 5, to arrive opposite exit at Cannon Street. Turns right out of station and walks on road to avoid crowded section of pavement. Carries phone in right hand, and handbag across chest. Works at Hallow & Reed estate agent, Walbrook Street.

Availability: Monday to Friday

Duration: 50 minutes

Difficulty level: moderate





‘We have to tell her.’ Kelly looked in horror at the screen, on which was listed in precise detail what could only be Zoe Walker’s commute to work.

‘Is it definitely her?’ Lucinda asked. Kelly and Nick were leaning over the DI’s desk, his laptop open in front of them. The lights were off elsewhere in the large, open-plan space, and the yellow strip light above Nick’s desk was flickering slightly, as though the bulb were about to go. Lucinda was working at a neighbouring desk, painstakingly checking each image on the website against the London Gazette adverts.