Stalker (10 page)

‘Jogger outside…’ he waved vaguely towards the floor length window which fronted the street, ‘Asked me to give you a message since I was coming in here anyway.’

‘What message?’ Lily was beginning to wonder if this was a chat-up line.

‘The message was 1313.’ His voice matched the body. Mega attractive. Twisting around, Lily looked down. He had a wad of notes and a deposit slip in his hand. Looked legit.

‘What?’ Lily’s pin number was 1313. So she could remember pin numbers, she always used 1313 for anything. ‘Why did you say that number?’

‘Nothing to do with me. That was just the message. I thought it must have been a relative of yours, in a tearing hurry. Bank queues are so slow aren’t they? Most times, I use the hole-in-the-wall.’

Although shell-shocked, a tiny part of Lily’s brain was still functioning.

If this ‘messenger’ had seen the stalker, time to find out the facts. What did he look like? Was he still there? And how did he know her secret password number?

‘Has the person gone?’ Lily dashed out and looked on the street. Trouble was she didn’t know who she was looking for. The usual shoppers scuttled along the street, harried parents with toddlers, retirees with lists and teenagers ‘mucking around’, but no-one stood out. No jogger.

Back inside the bank, she asked, ‘Was it a man or a woman? What did the person look like?’

‘Er, a woman… about twenty or so
… dark
hair, tracksuit… nothing special. You shouldn’t blame the messenger if you don’t like the news, you know.

See you. Think I’ll give queues away.’

He turned and Lily stared as he loped out through the glass doors of the bank. His jeans were actually pressed! And the backs of his shoes shone.

Was it HIM! And where had he used her pin number? Should she follow him or should she stay near her money? Like a zombie, Lily moved forward with the queue until she reached the teller, and went into action.

‘I want a print-out of my statement, NOW! I think someone else has been getting into my account.’

‘That’s done at Head Office. It’s difficult to arrange here now. We need identification.’

Lily stared at the teller’s name tag. ‘Okay Sophie, I will give you umpteen pieces of ID. Here is my driver’s licence. My keycard. My photo. My cheque butts and a phone bill addressed to me. Could I please have a statement of this account, which is my money in your bank? I should have about $150 in it.’

Lily crammed the pieces of ID into the security scoop and pushed them through to the teller behind the bullet proof glass. How secure was a bank? Great! You couldn’t even touch your own money, but a hacker had probably got in with her pin number and cleaned out her account.

‘This is the balance of your account.’ Sophie, the teller ripped the paper roll and pushed the amount towards Lily.

‘Thank you VERY much.’ Lily glanced down at the faint print-out. Yes, it was the number of her account. But the amount was wrong. Had she misread the zeros? There was a $1,000 more than should be in her account.

‘The last six transactions are listed’, offered Sophie helpfully. ‘Mainly withdrawals.’

On the second last, someone had deposited $1000 in her account. And it hadn’t been Lily.

Lily’s pin number was so simple to work out. She uses 1313 for her locker at the radio station. She suggested 1313 to the car people for her electronic system. Even her mobile message bank is programmed for that number. And she did that program on Friday 13
^th
and asked on talkback whether people were superstitious.

I changed MY pin number again. Stalk is a good word to use. S is the 19
^th
letter of the alphabet. A is 1
^st
. L is the 12
^th
and K is the 11
^th
. 1911211 Add them together. That makes 16. 1 and 6 makes 7, my lucky number. Who else would work out a pin number using letters from a word like that? My bank will accept a seven digit pin number. If they wouldn’t, I would have thought of some other brilliant code.

That money is in her account for two reasons. I wanted to show Lily that I could control her finances. But to an investigator, it also looks like a bribe. And Lily is going to be checked out soon. Nobody insults me or turns me down like she did.

The bank queue was a mistake. I’ll admit that I should never have looked at you so closely. What a disappointment. Where was the Lily I imagined? Certainly not the fat bitch in the queue… great voice, okay face, but not the Lily-like figure and someone like me can only have the best to play around with in a campaign. So I tried you out with the pin numbers to see how you’d react. How long would it take you to realise that I had known your secrets all along? You were too slow.

You haven’t even worked out my full name yet. Nobody calls me by a nickname, not even my parents who’ll be back on Tuesday, so I’ll bring my campaign to a close then Lily. It is me who is deciding to finish, not you.

It’s been very successful. You freaked out, for a while, but you did what I planned. How I thought you’d react.

Only Jamie has been a problem, thinking he’s a hot Psych student
and great
researcher, tracking down stalker facts on the Internet, but he couldn’t work out why I was doing the stalking campaign. Well maybe I’ll tell you, or maybe I won’t.

Fame Game

Apprehensively, Lily ran back her messages. The message bank was linked to her mobile now that her phone number was unlisted.

‘Hi Lily. This is Dominic Paul’s brother, from the garage. Your car is ready if you’d like to collect it. Problems weren’t as bad as you thought. I managed to fix it okay, and the bill won’t blow you out of the water. Pay by instalments if it’s a problem. Our radio is still tuned to 3BC. See you when you’re ready.’

Beep. Beep. Beep.

‘Ben here. Are you okay Lily? Just checking on my little sister. Give us a call when you’ve got time. Anita says that if you’d like to stay here, that’s okay with her. And I’ve been doing my training jogs in your area. No suspicious guys hanging around as far as I can see.’

Beep. Beep. Beep.

‘Hi, Lily. I’m Jo Reg from ‘Gay Scene’ I understand that you’re available for an interview about your ‘coming out’. We’d like to do a series of up and coming media people and think you’d be eligible. Just a quick FAQ article. Call me back today as our deadlines are close.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

A message for Lily Noelle. Monty Motors. We’d like to reclaim your test car today. Apparently a newspaper is doing a story on ‘kickbacks’ and a journalist rang to check on you and whether you were paying hire charges.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

‘Lily, this is Bernie. Could you drop into my office for a moment? We have a problem. There are a few rumours flying around about you we need to kill. On a slow news weekend, you’ve got too much adverse coverage.’

How dare a little shitty
psych student like you think you can threaten me! Lily, you didn’t deserve all my attention. It was me who made you into a celebrity. All those phone calls and e-mails. The radio station had never had so many for a single presenter. I even gave you ‘stalkee’ status. You liked that at first. You know you did. You loved having a reason to apply for a secret number. Of course, it only took one phone call to your flatmate at work, with a possible job offer, to get the call-back ’new’ number. Easy. Celeb. power. Who would have noticed you if I didn’t? D’you think that you would have been given that new car to drive for a week, if I hadn’t suggested it to the manager? Of course not. Admittedly Monty’s is where my Dad’s company used to have an account, but… Of course, I knew about their electronic systems, just like the one on Dad’s car. I changed his just for fun, several times. So quick and easy. And as for that pre-historic clock in The Vomit. Kindergarten stuff. Just playing with your time. Having the time of my life with your life.

Now the time has come to destroy you. That’s my right. I built you up. Now I’ll drag you down. So I started Rumour No 1. That you were gay. That’s why there was no regular male in your life. Just a few hints here and there, especially to Jo Reg from ‘Gay Scene’. He loved it, especially as they’re doing that series. No truth in it of course, but that doesn’t matter. Labels are destructive, even if they are challenged later.

Then Rumour No 2. That was easy after The Cult interview. That you’d ‘gone religious’ and were promoting Y’s lyrics because you were getting a share of the profits. On the take, but with a religious flavour.

That goes down really well in the Hot Goss. columns. If you dish it out, you have to learn to take it, Lily baby.

Rumour No 3 was that you took kickbacks for playing CDs. Great piece of proof that Red Devil car. You must have been pretty naïve to think it was a straight ‘freebie’? Insurance for me, just in case things went wrong.

********************************************************

Bernie was so seriously concerned that he sat forward, squashing his tummy rolls. ‘Why are all these rumours floating around the media, that you’re gay, that you’re taking kickbacks? That you’ve gone religious and are a convert to the Y’s Cult? I assume that’s incorrect? Publicity we want. A bad name we don’t.’

‘I’m not religious. I’m not taking kickbacks and if I were gay, whose business is it anyway? It’s my stalker doing this. Who else could it be?’

Unless something else happened in his life, to distract him from her, maybe she’d be stuck with the Stalker forever. An unpleasant shadow. ‘This guy is starting rumours now, deliberately to destroy me, or at least my reputation.’

Creepy, that’s what he was.

‘So why have you made it easy for him? If I’d been here when you started, there’d be none of this real name on air stuff. Other presenters use pseudonyms ’ Bernie shuffled the papers on his desk, trying to find the clipping. ‘Here, you’re in Jo’s ‘Around Gay Town’ gossip column.’

Lily read the para quickly.
‘Top Poppy Lily, is she a Tiger? Around the garden beds, Lily Noelle from the 3BC’s FM graveyard shift has been a gay addition to the night hours. A bit of a Cult follower is Lily. Even been sent poppies and lilies in a wreath. Right on. Keep asking the right questions, Lily. Y not be part of The Cult’s fan club? Or Y? And then there’s that new red car. What a prezzie! Or a bribe?

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Lily shrugged. ‘I don’t understand what he’s getting at. All that flower stuff. How did he know about the wreath unless the stalker told him? That must be where the tip came from. Don’t journos have to check their facts?’

‘Not in a rag like that. That’s not important. Your name’s in there and the suggestion of personal interest. Reflects badly on us.’

Lily knew their public radio didn’t have a big coverage, even if Bernie was working on it.

‘Sorry I forced you to do the hot goss. segment with the Y, now. Might have been a mistake. Especially as he’s skipped off with the funds. Look.’ Bernie pushed the newspaper across and Lily glanced at the headlines.

‘Million dollar fraud. The Y vanishes with Cult funds.’

‘He’s done a bunk with the money,’ confirmed Bernie, as Lily looked up.

‘Don’t want your name being linked with his and ours.’

‘Why should it be? I only interviewed him.’ Lily could have added ‘on your instructions,’ but she didn’t.

‘But you did have problems earlier didn’t you? I heard you’d applied for an unlisted number,’ persisted Bernie. ‘Was that playing the celebrity or a real problem?’

Should she admit to Bernie that she wanted to feel special? He had a clue already. When your parents volunteer for six months to look after third-world needy, and your brother has a partner like Anita, you don’t feel you’re getting a fair share of anyone’s attention.

‘I’ve had real hate mail and abusive calls.’ Admittedly, Lily had enjoyed having a reason to apply for an unlisted number. It sounded special. ‘In ordinary life, when you meet people, you tell them your name. It’s one of the first things. Besides, if I invented a new name, I’d have to remember when I was Lily and when I was X.’

Bernie’s eyes were shrewd. ‘In ordinary life—well this is ordinary—it’s now and real. Oh, I get it. Made you feel famous… eh? ’’

‘Not exactly,’ admitted Lily. ‘Calls and e-mail later. I got the hate mail first.’

‘But that was mail, from the letter box. Most presenters get a bit of that from nutters. Goes with the territory. Why change your phone number? Make more sense to change your address.’

‘I did,’ said Lily.

Bernie was taking notes now. ‘Usually attention is helpful for a radio station. You know how keen I am to build up our corporate identity.

But this smells like a smear campaign. Someone is trying to blacken your name and ours. If it quacks like a duck and waddles like a duck, most people think it’s a duck.’

Lily wasn’t sure exactly what Bernie was saying. Smears. Smells. Ducks.

Was he off his head?

‘Are you taking me off the graveyard shift? Are you firing me?’

For a nano second, Lily wondered if a volunteer, who wasn’t paid, COULD be fired. Was she going to be the first to be fired before she even had a proper job? Unexpectedly, Bernie smiled.