Chapter 19
1130 Words
It was late afternoon when a car pulled up in front of Flakes Avenue, directly opposite a semi-detached house. The man in the car, Derrick Williams, stepped out and pulled on a face cap before covering it with a hooded cardigan.
He slid across the street and went round the back of the house. Taking out a hairpin from his trouser pocket, he inserted it into the lock and twisted it. He pushed his body against the door and when it didn't open, he scoffed and twisted it again. He pushed against it harder this time and fell inside what appeared to be the kitchen of the house.
Swiftly, he got to his feet, closed the door shut, locked it from inside and looked around in hidden corners for traces of any CCTV cameras. On confirming that there was none, he reached into his pockets and brought out a tiny, black object. He opened the casing that protected the light bulb in the kitchen and inserted it. He took it another one and headed down the hallway.
In the hallway, he inserted it in the casing that held the bulb there as well and slowly made his way to the living room. The room was sparsely furnished, but well organised. It didn't seem like the room of someone who made a living as an executive chairman of a company like Kings' Group.
Derrick looked around stealthily for cameras again, before he got to work inserting the objects in the casings of the light bulbs. He inserted one inside the door knob as well and headed upstairs to the bedroom.
He had just closed the bedroom door when he heard someone trying to unlock the front door. s**t, he muttered under his breath. Quickly, he got out his phone and texted Steven who was parked at a coffee shop a few blocks down from Flakes Avenue. SOMEONE'S AT THE FRONT DOOR. HURRY DOWN.
Downstairs, Clinton unlocked his front door and walked into his living room. He wasn't supposed to be home till well past 6p.m., but at the office today, he had received a memo from Human Resources that Sterling Industries had cancelled out their contract again. Son-of-a-b***h Liam Sterling. He had had no idea that Liam wasn't the one directly in charge at the company the night he'd approached him at Misty. And since Kings' hadn't yet supplied the cotton the contract was signed for, they had to refund the money they'd received from Sterling Industries. Clinton was working hard to make sure that didn't happen. His superiors would never hear of it. He would be reprimanded for not delivering quickly, because if he had, Sterling wouldn't be asking for a refund.
He flung his briefcase on the couch just as his phone rang. Muttering under his breath, he picked it up. It was Tiffany on the line.
"What is it, Tiff?" Clinton answered, sitting down on his armchair. Whatever Tiffany had to say was not good, because Clinton rose up from the armchair as quickly as he'd sat there and began barking on the phone to Tiffany on how incompetent she was in replying to memos and if she had any idea she would be axed if she didn't rally the Productions department to speed up whatever process was delaying them from delivering to Sterling.
He was still on the phone when he heard a loud knock on his door. He chose to ignore and walked into his kitchen still talking on the phone. That was when he noticed the backdoor looked funny. There were some splinters of wood on the floor as if the door was broken. He reached out his left hand, unbolted it and turned the knob. The door swung open.
"What the heck?" he exclaimed.
"...and I've been trying my very best here, but it's not just..." Tifanny was saying on the phone.
"Let me call you back, Tiff," Clinton said and hung up without waiting for her to say anything. He closed the door again and turned it. It opened still. He could have sworn he'd locked the door that morning before he'd left for work. The knock on his front door came again louder than before and cursing under his breath, he headed back out to the living room to answer it.
Steven Williams stood outside the door, dressed in a police uniform.
"Good day, Sir. Officer Gordon here," Steven introduced, flashing an ID card and putting it back quickly. "We're on a community inspection. There was a report of a missing microwave and we're going round houses to check that out," he added, moving past Clinton into the living room.
"What kind of bullshit is that? Are the police now less busy that they go around searching for missing microwaves?" Clinton asked, walking behind Steven.
"This microwave is more than just a microwave. May I see your kitchen, please?"
"Heck, since you're here, I might as well report something. Come on over and look at my kitchen door."
Derrick heard when Steven had come in and had used the time to insert the bugs in hidden places in the bedroom and bathroom. He opened the door slowly and when he saw Clinton and Steven heading into the kitchen, he came out quickly and snuck out through the front door.
In the kitchen, Steven made a show of checking out Clinton's microwave and then Clinton showed him his door.
"It wasn't like this this morning," Clinton asked.
"Anything been stolen? Any suspects you have in mind of breaking and entering?" Steven asked, getting out a pen and pretending to write something on a notepad.
"I haven't checked if anything's been taken yet. I only just saw this now."
Steven crouched low and hit his knuckle on the door. Some bits of fine dust fell from the door on to the floor.
"There you go, Sir. No one's broken into your house. You've got a termite problem and they're eating up this here damn wood. My suggestion would be to get it changed or replaced, else you could come home one day to no day," Steven said.
"In the meantime, look around your house. If anything is missing, come on over to the station and make an official report," he continued.
Clinton bent over to look at the door before he thanked Steven and showed him the way out. Steven waited till he heard Clinton back on the phone again before he strode over to his car and got in. Before driving off, he got a small pouch and emptied its contents from his window. Fine dust particles fell out and rose into the air. His phone beeped and he checked the message. I'M OUT. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.
- Writer
