The Night Stalker (Detective Erika Foster 2)

‘She’s not typing,’ said Keith, turning to Erika and Peterson again.

‘Is this normal?’ asked Peterson, coming back to his folding chair.

‘I dunno… I don’t normally have an audience here when I talk to her. People breathing down my neck. What if she knows?’

‘She doesn’t know,’ reassured Erika. They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

‘I’m just going to use your bathroom,’ said Erika. Keith nodded and turned back to the screen. She left the living room and came out into the hall. She could hear a dull drone of music from upstairs, and the bulbs glowed brightly. She came to the bathroom and closed the door.

She gingerly hovered over the grubby toilet and peed as quickly as she could. When she reached around to see where the toilet paper was, her shoulder bashed painfully against the large safety rail. She pushed it and watched as it swung upwards, almost like a bizarre guillotine in reverse. She quickly finished and washed her hands. The bathroom was deeply depressing, almost like a hospital. She had to crouch down to see her reflection in the mirror; she wished she hadn’t bothered. She looked exhausted.

When she came back to the living room, it seemed even hotter under the blazing lights. Peterson was just browsing through the shelves of DVDs.

‘Hang on, she’s typing,’ said Keith, leaning toward the computer screen. Erika and Peterson both moved over to join him.

NIGHT OWL: Sorry, I had some food on the stove.

DUKE: Ooh, what are we eating?

NIGHT OWL: Poached egg on toast.

DUKE: Yum. Is there one for me? Can mine have a dollop of brown sauce?

NIGHT OWL: Yes, I bought some for you especially.

‘This is good,’ said Erika, as she and Peterson peered over the back of Keith’s chair. They stayed and watched the conversation unfold.

‘This has to be a first for me, watching a serial killer talk about her crap day at work and explain how she likes her eggs poached,’ murmured Peterson, as he sat watching the screen, resting his chin on the heel of his hand. ‘What time is it?’

‘Two-thirty,’ said Erika, looking at her watch.

At five-thirty, as it started to get light, the conversation was still going. The courtyard outside the kitchen window began to brighten with a bluish tinge.

Erika nudged Peterson, who had managed to sleep in the folding chair, his head tipped back. He rubbed his eyes as he awoke.

‘I think he’s finally cutting to the chase,’ whispered Erika. They watched the screen.

DUKE: So… I’ve wanted to tell you something for a while.

NIGHT OWL: Uh-huh?

DUKE: I went to see the doctor the other day.

NIGHT OWL: Oh yeah?

DUKE: I know you hate doctors.

NIGHT OWL: Fucking loathe them.

DUKE: Mine’s a woman. She’s OK.

NIGHT OWL: You two-timing me?

DUKE: Course not. She said I have very high cholesterol. My job is high stress… I need to take it easy or I could…

NIGHT OWL: Could?

DUKE: I could get a heart attack. It’s freaked me out, really. Made me put things in perspective.

NIGHT OWL: I thought you wanted to die. To end it all.

DUKE: It comes and it goes. But right now, the sun is coming up outside and life is short… And I love you.

DUKE: So, I wanted to ask, and I know it’s a big ask, if you wanted to meet me. For real. As real people.

There was a long pause.

‘I’ve done it. I’ve scared her off,’ said Keith, his tired eyes beginning to show panic. ‘I’ve tried. You’ve seen me, here all night, trying!’

‘It’s okay,’ said Erika. ‘Look.’

Keith turned back to the screen.

NIGHT OWL: OK, then. Let’s meet.

‘Jesus,’ said Keith. He started typing.

DUKE: That’s GREAT!!!

NIGHT OWL: But I don’t want you to be disappointed.

DUKE: Never. Never. NEVER!

NIGHT OWL: Where?

NIGHT OWL: And when?

‘Where? What should I write?’ asked Keith.

‘Tell her you want to meet at Waterloo Station, in London,’ said Erika.

‘No, ask her first, suggest it,’ added Peterson. ‘And then if she says yes, arrange it for 5 p.m. this evening, under the clock on the concourse.

Keith nodded and started to type again:

DUKE: How about London Waterloo train station?

NIGHT OWL: OK. When?

DUKE: Tomorrow. Well, that’s today really. Under the clock at 5 p.m.

NIGHT OWL: OK.

DUKE: YESSSSS! I’m so happy!!! How will I know it's you?