Had he made his presence obvious? Matt Rider tried not to look too closely at the man who passed him under the streetlight for the third time. He was aware of unease on the man's face. Matt knew from experience that it wasn't easy being inconspicuous, but he had to take as many photographs as he could, and if possible get a recording of any conversation that followed, assuming the man met up with someone.
He'd already checked out the digital camera under the street light the previous night. Although the results were noisy from lack of light, they were adequate, so the camera was doing its intended job. He felt suitably dressed. Old jeans and a worn zip jacket -- his usual clothing. The target looked far too smartly dressed for this part of town. Maybe that explained his unease.
The man waved a hand almost imperceptibly. Another smartly dressed man approached, nodding. Matt opened his backpack and removed a Coke can. He raised it as though taking a drink and took a picture with the digital camera concealed inside. This was what he'd come to do. Holding up a camera would have been stupid. The camera in the Coke can was sheer genius. Well, it was if it worked successfully.
The two men entered the Kingfisher Grill, and Matt followed. He'd not expected this, but things might work in his favor. They ordered coffee, and Matt collected a genuine can of Coke from the fridge, paid for it and placed it on the table as he sat down next to the two men. He pretended to take a drink from it, then discretely switched the can for one in his backpack, the one containing the camera. A couple of photos with it and he carefully switched it for the can with the digital voice recorder.
The two suspects definitely seemed anxious, glancing over in his direction. No way would they know who he was, but the safest thing to do was go out for a few minutes. The can of Coke would carry on recording their conversation.
Placing the can on the table he told the waiter he was coming back and to leave the Coke there. He crossed the street where he entered the local late night convenience-store, watching from the window. As soon as the men left the café he would retrieve the can. The store owner regarded him with a certain amount of suspicion. Maybe he should say something.
"A friend over there in the Kingfisher Grill," Matt explained. "I don't want him to see me. He talks too much."
"A friend?" The owner shrugged before turning his attention to rearranging the adult magazines on the top shelf, shaking his head.
The second man called the waiter over and seemed to be placing an order. The waiter glanced over at the Coke can. Matt felt his heart racing. The waiter -- well, he was probably the owner -- went to Matt's table, shook the can and frowned. It would have felt full. He cleared it from the table in spite of Matt's instructions.
Matt felt his pulse rise.
The waiter took it behind the serving counter without examining the can, and the two suspects carried on talking. Matt started for the door, checked himself and sighed. Oh well, no one said PI work was all play. When the café closed, he would be having a very messy experience in the tall bins round the back.