Free The Dreams of Cardinal Vittorini and other Strange Stories by Reggie Oliver Page B

moving object it would track it round the room maintaining focus on it and picking up its sound with directional microphones. Above all, it was so miniaturised that the camera—just a tiny lens on the end of a fibre optic cable—could be easily hidden. When you wanted to access the recordings, you simply did so by watching them on your personal computer. Alternatively you could make your own discs and watch them through a DVD player.
    ‘Well,’ said Alex, ‘they liked the ads so much I managed to wangle a freebie out of them. I got them to set one of their systems up in my flat. Said I wanted to test drive it, that sort of crap.’
    ‘Whereabouts in your flat?’
    ‘Guess.’
    ‘Bedroom?’
    ‘Got it in one.’ Alex smiled, then wiped the sweat off his face with a handkerchief. He looked at me almost nervously, as if he was unsure how I would react. I was unsure how I should react. ‘Then came the call to America. Quite unexpected. Apparently several people in the office were up for it, but I got it. So I was going to be away for six months and I thought I’d let the flat out. So I did.’
    ‘Who to?’
    ‘This girl called Carol. I saw quite a few before I decided on her. Twenties, blonde, gorgeous legs, nice pair of tits. Nice face. She was just a temp somewhere, but she had this lah-di-dah accent. Very Cheltenham Ladies. She sort of took my fancy. I dropped the rent quite a bit for her.’
    ‘You don’t mean—’
    ‘That’s right,’ said Alex looking away and pouring himself another glass, ‘I left the Hidden Eye on.’
    ‘Did you tell her about it?’
    ‘Good God no!’ Alex managed to dig up some moral indignation from somewhere. ‘No. I mean, I don’t want you to think that this was just some sort of sleazy voyeurist trip for me. No. It was more like research. A unique insight into another life.’
    ‘If she ever finds out . . .’
    ‘She won’t. I haven’t seen her since I came back. She’d left the place immaculate, rent paid, bills paid, everything. I wish I could always have a tenant like her. I’m glad now I lowered the rent for her.’
    ‘You lowered the rent because she had nice tits.’
    ‘Yes. Well . . . I mean, I really wanted to find out. What do they do when no-one is looking; or rather, when they think no-one is looking? I could really get inside the psyche of this person. Could be useful for business. The insights you get. You know the Heisenberg principle: the presence of an observer alters the course of an experiment? That may be true in physics, but in human experiments it only counts if the humans involved know they’re being observed. Don’t you see? This is the real thing. All these fly on the wall docu-soaps are rubbish compared to this.’
    ‘Bollocks. You just wanted to see her tits.’
    ‘Do you have to be so crude? Anyway, aren’t you just a little bit curious to know what I found out?’
    ‘What did you find out?’
    ‘You’d be amazed. I haven’t looked at it all. Christ, there’s hours of the stuff, but you would be amazed.’
    ‘In what way?’
    ‘Come and see for yourself. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t walk over red hot coals to see it.’
    ‘Well . . .’
    ‘We could analyse it together. What d’you say? Friday evening after work. We’ll pick up a take-away and make a night of it.’
    I wish I’d said no. Jesus, Christ, God! I wish I’d said no.

    **

    Alex’s flat was in a converted warehouse at Canary Wharf. It was one of those apartments that people like Alex chose to refer to as a ‘pad’, all black leather and chrome and sliding doors, with the clutter of everyday life kept firmly out of sight behind them.
    The evening seemed potentially an enjoyable one. We had bought a lavish Chinese takeaway which we spread out on the low coffee table in front of the television and there were plenty of cold beers in the fridge. Our entertainment promised to be both titillating and psychologically fascinating. I wish I could say that I felt