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shouldn’t think anyone’s done it ever; I mean, however well you know someone you couldn’t just decide to get close, get really close, and look into their face, could you? Anyway, they’d know: they’d react; they wouldn’t be themselves. But with the glasses, there you are. Your face next to her face – like nose to nose. The invisible man. And she doesn’t know. She hasn’t got the slightest idea. Except –’
    â€˜Is it –’
    Stella started to speak, then tried to check herself whenshe realized he hadn’t finished. Kimber looked at her, waiting. She looked at him. Face to face, if not quite nose to nose.
    â€˜You said “she”. Was it always women? When you looked down on the street – always women you watched?’
    â€˜Oh, yes. Women, always. Of course.’ Stella waited, not wanting to offer a prompt. Finally he said, ‘Except… yes… I was explaining, wasn’t I? She doesn’t know, the woman in the street, except, sometimes, she can feel you. And she looks round. Like when you stare at someone and eventually they start to look round to see where it’s coming from. She does that because she can feel you in the air. She can feel your eyes. And sometimes she looks up, and even though you’re really a long way off and she could never find you, your heart leaps because she seems to be looking straight at you.’
    He was talking to himself now. Stella and Harriman were sitting very still so as not to break the moment. Sorley was a statue in the corner of the room.
    â€˜Then she goes out of sight. She’s walking towards you and, at first, you get everything, the way her body moves, the way her breasts move and her hips move and her hair floats a bit in the breeze; then she’s just head and shoulders; then it’s just her face… the binoculars make a circle like a cut-out – a circle of light – and you can’t see anything outside of that and her face fills it, and then she’s gone. And you can wait for another, I mean, you can probably already see another, especially if the shops are open and it’s a weekend or something, but then she’ll be gone, and so will the next one, and the next and you wonder what they’re doing and where they’ve gone and what their lives are like when you’re not there.’
    He closed his eyes, as if picturing the circle of light and the woman walking towards him, then disappearing.After a moment he opened them and asked for a drink of water. Harriman went to fetch it and Stella announced to the tape that DC Harriman had left the room. She also announced that she was switching off the tape and that it was 12.03 a.m. She and Kimber sat opposite one another, silent and strangely edgy, like actors waiting in the wings, their lines on hold. Sorley shifted on his chair and Kimber looked across as if registering him for the first time. The lights in the room hummed slightly and a phone rang in the outer office, fifteen rings or more before it cut off. Harriman brought water for everyone: a large bottle and four paper cups.
    Stella said, ‘Twelve fourteen, DC Harriman has entered the room, you saw her on the tube?’ It sounded seamless, as if the question had been too long backed-up.
    â€˜That’s it.’
    â€˜And you followed her.’
    â€˜I followed lots. You want to know more about them, that’s the point. Watching them through the glasses, that’s fine and good. That’s one thing. It’s great because of the nearness, but then you lose them.’
    â€˜How many?’
    â€˜Lots.’
    â€˜Ten?’
    â€˜Oh, yes. More.’
    â€˜And did you kill them?’
    Kimber shook his head, but it wasn’t denial. ‘I’m not talking about that. Not about them.’
    â€˜Okay. Let’s talk about when you saw her on the tube. Valerie.’
    â€˜Valerie,’ Kimber agreed. ‘I