He considered getting the night bus, but he worried about the on-board CCTV. No, his best bet would be to get a mini cab and pay the bastards the thirty odd quid. There was a cab company nearby, and before he approached it, he peered at his reflection in a window. Not clever to resemble a weirdo or criminal, so he patted himself down and smoothed his hair.
In the back of the cab he tapped on his phone. He copied the latest files from the hidden camera in Alice’s bedroom to his phone. The download took 15 minutes, and when it completed, he used the app to delete everything from the card on the camera.
Around half an hour later, he threw his jacket and bag onto the living room floor and went straight for the bathroom. He peeled off all his clothes and stepped into the shower. The water ran over his face and he let it wash out his eyes as much as he dared. That eased the pain and he relaxed a little. Then the urge to piss overcame him, and he aimed a long steady stream at the shower’s plug hole.
Feeling better for relieving the worst effects of the mace, but worse for the comedown from the pills, he towelled and dressed again. He needed booze to help him, and he made for the fridge. One lonely beer. He should have brought more. Then he remembered there was a bottle of vodka in one cupboard. He hated the stuff, but it would do.
He grabbed the beer and went to his computer. While it booted up, he put his hands in his pockets for the pills. When he couldn't find them, he picked up his jacket. No fucking pills. Bitch Alice had almost ripped the pocket off his jacket. He threw the jacket down and stomped to the computer. The only saving grace was that he still had plenty of the pills stashed in his bedroom.
Cole sat on his sofa and planned his next moves. He tapped on the camera app again and saw there was no signal. That meant the camera had been discovered. Despite his failure, the thought of her reaction to the camera brought a smile to his face. After all, he had told her about it. It had served its purpose, and he still had the video clips.
He lit a cigarette and sucked hard at it. The police would soon investigate, yet he was relaxed about it. The odds of Alice recognising him were remote. He had whispered when he spoke to her, and the radio would have distorted his voice further.
As he saw it, there were two main weaknesses. One was the bag of Captagon pills and the risk of fingerprints, but he had wiped them after they fell into the sink, so with luck he’d be all right there.
The second risk was that the police would interview Flanagan, as he would be an obvious person of interest, and Flanagan would have to give a list of everyone who viewed the house. Cole concluded during the viewing that Flanagan didn't recognise him from the TV interview after the attack. There would be no trace of someone called Brian Hailsham and no accurate description either. Cole’s disguise of hat, glasses and fake accent with the bullshit about Oxford would see to that.
The techies from the police would recover the video clips from the camera in the bedroom, but he hadn’t removed the balaclava, so they wouldn’t identify him from the clips.
That left his flat. First, he should get rid of any evidence linking him to the scene. He backed up all the video clips from Alice’s bedroom on his phone to his computer. Then he replaced the SD card in the phone with a blank one and copied the clips from the computer onto that. That gave him two copies of the videos on micro SD cards.
He logged on to his VPN and clicked open the double VPN option. It would be slower, but far more secure and meant no-one could trace his IP address. Then he set up two accounts on a video sharing site in fake names. The video sharing site he used allowed anything and was a great source of revenge porn. He uploaded all the videos in private mode to one and uploaded the one of Flanagan to the other.
Cole wondered how he could turn the clip of Flanagan and Hannah shagging on Alice’s bed to his advantage. He was certain there would be something, he just had to figure it out. Flanagan’s mobile, email and Twitter name were on the agency website, and Cole added them to his burner contacts. Then he decided Flanagan needed to know it existed. He used a dud Gmail account to send the video link to Flanagan with a single smiley in the email body.
Then he turned his attention to Alice. Her mobile was the last resort, as once he contacted her with that, she would change her number. But her email was different. Yeah, he thought. Why not? He forwarded the email he’d sent Flanagan to her. He grinned at the delicious thought she’d know there were clips of her to come and there was nothing she could do. Cole was in control.
Then he deleted all the apps and video files from the computer. Finally, he removed all the incriminating apps from his phone. He switched the SD card with a third one and put the two with the video files aside.
Except for the pills and the burner, he gathered everything linked to Portobello Close into the holdall, including his torn jacket. He grabbed the two SD cards, wrapped them in cling film and slipped them into a pocket inside the bag.
Four shots of vodka later, he slipped out of his flat with the bag. His eyes still hurt, but the pain wasn't
