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The Scarlet Werb, Chapter Three (standard:action, 3647 words) [3/3] show all parts | |||
Author: Brian Cross | Added: Jun 12 2005 | Views/Reads: 2813/2040 | Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Chapter Three of a story involving a serial killer who has a habit of leaving a red emblem beside the body that has been accounted for. What does it signify? | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story just along the corridor from her partitioned office, her thoughts turning to the woman's appointment to her current position three years beforehand. A promising recruit from college, she worked her way up quickly, impressing her with her skill and endeavour, but there had always been doubts about promoting somebody whose home was so far removed from their workplace. Could it be those doubts were now coming home to roost ? Todd rinsed her cup under the tap and dried it, a final idea occurring to her. She'd try Carly Simpson, if anyone knew of a private engagement then she would, but to her increased frustration her call to the Simpson home also went unanswered. * * * Outside, a taxi sped along a deserted, rain drenched street, past the Saffron Offices en route to its destination. Its single passenger sat in the back, her eyes fixed firmly on the direction of travel. The initially chatty cabby had long since abandoned any attempts at time-passing conversation. You soon got to know how responsive your fare was going to be and this pretty young thing he was conveying now had ‘non-communicative' written all over her. He wondered whether he was transporting her to a date with a boyfriend, if that was the case the man would need to be a mind reader if the extent of her conversational skills was anything to go by. He watched as alighting, she strode casually into the foyer of Clipper's nite-spot. Fare paid to the penny, no tip, not even a word of acknowledgement. He turned the cab full circle and headed back; boy, he thought, the woman wasn't just cold, she was freezing; somebody had it coming. That somebody she began searching for as soon as Clipper's doors opened to the public an hour later.. Showing suitable deference to the paying clientele and exhibiting a far more sociable air than the one displayed to the cab driver, she mixed freely and gaily, taking and delivering orders whilst seeming to thrive on the atmosphere. But her eyes were searching, scanning the increasingly occupied dance floor, hunting for a certain face, that one person who would meet his match before the night was through if she had any say in it. The chances were against that happening, they had to be: this was a shot in the dark and she knew that. Yet her feelings were so strong, ran so high that if the man she sought were to be in the building she'd know. She swore it. Time passed quickly, people came and went; surprisingly, far from filling to capacity, as the last couple of hours approached and the clock ground its way towards two a.m. gaps began to appear. Management advised her it was general tendency in mid week and not to be lead into thinking she'd have an easy time of it. ‘Hi - waitress, you - yes you - over here -' Instantly she craned her neck and the face she saw was the one etched so indelibly in her mind. ‘Didn't you hear me woman ?' Frustrated, the speaker swung round and uttered an inaudible comment to a dapper man beside him. She kept her intense stare, squaring her shoulders as he rose to his feet and hastened towards her, then she surged in his direction. The following collision was inevitable, but it was the impact created by her strong body that sent him reeling despite his bulk. ‘Oh I'm sorry sir,' looking aghast she extended an arm towards him. ‘Here. let me help,' tugging the man with a false gentleness, the waitress began dusting him down frantically, ‘my first night, you know, and what a way to start.' ‘It's okay I can manage,'flustered, he raked his fingers through his thin fair hair and then needlessly adjusted his tie, ‘It was careless in the extreme.' He gazed at her, feeling the intensity of her stunning eyes and noting the faultless figure, ‘Nevertheless-' She smiled at him, ‘Is there anything I can do for you ?' ‘Plenty, plenty.' Placated, he turned to his associate and sniggered. She felt his fingers probing at the back of her dress. ‘You'd like to make amends wouldn't you ? I mean this night was made for love sweetheart.' She saw the lustful look in his eyes and felt sick, though she didn't change her expression, ‘I was thinking of orders, for the moment at least.' ‘Of course you were,' there was an ostentatious laugh, ‘whisky if you please, and one for my guest also.' ‘Sir,' she smiled sweetly again, though it disappeared the moment she turned away. It was him, she was certain, and just like the woman before her, he was the hyena and she was to become his prey. Or so he thought. Only this time there was going to be a difference, because shortly he'd take his last bite. It was the scar low down on his cheek that had been the give-away, the likeness of the overall re-construction had been far from exact, but his victim had remembered that much, and pinpointed its position and shape with precision. ‘Diane, you're going to have to learn to be a little less clumsy, and stop charging around like a bull in a china shop.' The manager remonstrated, though she sensed a wryness in his tone. ‘I'm sorry, I'll get used to it,' she saw him smile and glanced back as the bartender poured the whiskies, ‘is that fella a regular ?' ‘He comes in quite a bit, he's a bit on the loud side, but no trouble. Why ? fancy him do you,' the manager's smile broadened, ‘because if that's a way of attracting his attention it's a bit over the top, don't you think ?' ‘No.' The finality of her answer and the peculiarity of her expression caused a creasing of the manager's brow as she returned to the pair with their drinks. No sooner had she placed them down than he'd pulled her onto his knee. ‘What's your name ?' she asked, her face enticingly close to his. ‘My name's not important sweetheart, it's how I perform that is,' he pressed her tightly in her lower regions, she gave a sweet smile which faded as she looked away. When she returned her gaze he was regarding her oddly. ‘What's the matter,' she teased, ‘am I too heavy for you ?' He squeezed her again and she regretted the comment. ‘Of course not, it's just that-' he paused, staring at her hair and then her eyes, ‘no it doesn't matter.' Uncannily familiar would have been the words to complete his sentence, uncannily familiar to the woman he'd raped and beaten up recently. But the words never rolled from his lips, it bore no purpose to utter them. She ran long fingers slowly through her long fair hair, gazing at him alluringly, though the thoughts running through her mind were of a far different composition. “Just you keep going son, you're heading down a one-way street, and there ain't no nice little walkway at the end.” “Must get going, work to do, I've work to do.' She sprang to her feet athletically despite the late hour, it left him clutching air. ‘Later love, eh ?' He nipped her bottom and she winced, if he'd have seen the look in the woman's eyes as she walked away there might have been second thoughts about that. She paused, then without looking back, ‘Perhaps.' * * * The litter strewn streets of Leytonstone exuded a cold and inhospitable feel to the woman as she stepped from Clipper's nite-spot in the early hours of a rain swept morning. Nonetheless she walked with a confident poise, glancing over her shoulder occasionally at passing cars that splashed by, as if expecting one to stop at any moment. It wasn't long before it happened, the sound of a vehicle drawing up, squelching through the pools of water forming on the road. She looked up expectantly, but there was a scowl hidden by the darkness: a ford fiesta with two youngsters on board; not what she was looking for. ‘Wanna lift luv ?' She stopped and turned as the driver opened his door, this kind of attention could ruin everything. ‘Get out of here now if you know what's good for you.' She spoke the words softly enough, but the quiet delivery held more than a hint of threat, easily enough to persuade the youth to re-seat himself. His colleague, inconspicuous in the faint light, sneered derisively, ‘What's up Bas ? she's a fuckin' ol' tart, not worth the bother anyway.!' Her eyes widened as she thrust the driver contemptuously aside, leaning provocatively towards the larger youth. She would have heaved him head first from the car but her time was too pressing. ‘I'll tell you something sunshine, it's your lucky day. I'm going to pretend I never heard that remark.' Her hand was on his jacket, and that one hand lifted him from the seat, before it let go, sending him plunging backwards. The snigger turned into alarm as she glared at the pair, ‘Now get out of here while you still have the chance.' She drew herself out of the car, watching as the car roared away, then resumed at a steady pace, turning into a narrow thoroughfare which connected the normally busy high street with a through one out of the East End. It was ill-lit and dingy, a mugger's paradise she thought; she'd challenge anyone to try it. Suddenly the approach of another car, wheels sloshing through the wet road. She'd half a mind to turn but instinct suggested there was no need, this was the one she'd been expecting. She listened as it slowed to a halt. In an instant her suspicions were confirmed as a voice called from the vehicle, ‘Hey sweetheart, remember me ? Thought you might need a lift on a foul night like this, what with it being late and all.' ‘Did you now ?' She stared back with an arrogance that surprised him, ‘Well that's very kind of you, but I might live some way from here.' ‘Not what I had in mind, sweetheart. I know a much cosier place nearby.' ‘Do you now ?' She smiled, but it was cold, forced and without a trace of good humour. Only the dimly lit street concealed its portent from him. ‘You'd like a bit of action wouldn't you, from a man who knows a thing or two about fulfilling a woman ?' The smile vanished. In the light thrown by the street lamp she stared long and hard. This was the face of a man who beat up and left for dead a defenceless woman, and did he show any sign of remorse ? You bet he didn't. But too right she'd like a piece of the action, though not the sort he had in mind. Certain this man was the culprit, Diane strode calmly to the passenger door and took a seat beside him. He was eyeing her with lust, already his hand was finding its way from the knee upwards, until she stopped it just short of her crotch, ‘We're wasting time, I'm not one for play acting, the sooner we get to this haven of yours the sooner you'll experience the real thing, something you've never felt before.' The tone of her voice was cool, calm and decidedly sexy. Stapleford's hand hastily left her thigh where the firm grip had halted it, and returned to the steering wheel. He drove off at speed with keen eyes studying him closely, so where was he taking her, what nest had he constructed away from public gaze ? But what did it matter. So she'd entered his car willingly, true, but if she'd failed to do so then no doubt he'd have the same fate in mind for her as had befallen the other poor girl and who else besides. Only he wouldn't have succeeded, she was confident of it. She was stronger, fitter, quicker and cleverer than anyone he'd confronted before; yet despite her certainty of that, she would wait. What she had in mind for him wasn't befitting for a city street. He felt her stare upon him, something in its composition made him feel uneasy. She sensed it: a thin smile crossed her face, ‘Not saying much, cheer up. I'm going to make it worth your while, there's five feet nine inches, one hundred and sixty five pounds worth of woman waiting for you here, and not a single ounce of fat.' She reached across and playfully flicked his thinning hair. ‘It had better be worth my while,' he smiled, though in truth it was more of a scowl, folds of skin creasing around the corners of his lips. There was a hatred inside her just waiting to vent. A burning, all consuming hatred. It came from the pit of her stomach, spreading its fire through her veins. Powerful arms concealed by the full length raincoat she wore twitched as she ran her fingers slowly down him, from shoulder to hand. He felt a considerable swelling below, though her intentions he'd fatally misjudged as he pulled to a halt outside his desirable dockland apartment. So this was it. She did her best to look impressed though her thoughts weren't on it. They were on his throat, where her eyes were focused now. ‘Two hundred grand this place,' he boasted, glancing up at his flat, apparently the centre-piece of a building surrounded by a cluster of brightly lit street lights, shimmering in the dead of night. ‘Let's get on with it.' Her voice was low, struggling to conceal emotion, not derived from sexual expectations. If her response wasn't exactly what he'd expected, he showed no sign of concern as he ran his entry card quickly through a slot and the solid brown door obligingly opened. ‘Where's your bathroom ?' ‘Along the corridor, last door on the right.' He looked at her, the voice was strangely subdued and flat for a woman who'd seemed so impatient to have sex with him. ‘I'll be right with you.' She smiled, coldly. ‘I'll be in here waiting.' He opened the door to his plush, mahogany saturated bedroom, felt his pulse beginning to race, speeding up in anticipation. It was all of ten minutes before she appeared and he had grown tired of waiting, but now she stood before him naked; a full, well developed body: wide shoulders, firm sizeable breasts, muscular in build with powerful looking arms, and all capped by a mass of long blonde hair. He lay on the bed, mouth open. ‘You're a big woman.' She lingered, her face straight, emotionless. ‘Yes.' Still she made no move, standing tantalisingly beyond his reach. ‘Bloody well come on ! You've been hanging about for long enough, are you playing some kind of game with me ? Because if you are -' ‘Game, some kind of game ? of course not, whatever made you think that ?' She closed on him, knelt forward on the bed, her hands on thighs, ‘No, this is deadly serious.' He began clutching her, pawing at the full breasts, breathing heavily in spasms, and yet the expression on her face was coldness itself. Abruptly she pulled away, the force of the movement severing his hold. ‘I wonder how it felt for her -' ‘His eyes widened, ‘What the hell are you -' ‘You know what I'm talking about, the woman you beat up in the street, precisely where you found me this evening I shouldn't suppose. If I'd have refused I'd have received the same kind of treatment, wouldn't I big boy ?' Her voice was quiet, controlled, calm, but the face was hostile, as hostile as Stapleford's own as springing from the bed he advanced towards her. ‘If you were so damn sure about this why didn't you tell the police while you had the chance, you stupid bitch !' ‘Because I'm going to kill you.' ‘Who the hell do you think you're kidding ?' His face took on an ugly twist, this was one woman who really deserved to know her place, and boy was she going to find it. He lined up what could have been a crushing facial blow but before he'd a chance to deliver she'd his throat in her hands, and the power of her hold was such that the heels of his feet were raised upwards. Diane held him there like a rag doll, flinging his head from side to side the way a dog would his prey, and despite his height and weight advantage there was nothing he could do to resist. She heard him stutter, then splutter in slow suffocation. ‘Go on you bastard, die, see what happens to men who prey on women stronger than themselves.' The words were hardly audible, she might have been thinking aloud but there was visible hatred on her face as she gave his throat one immense last squeeze and dropped him to the ground a lifeless bundle. She stood over him for a moment, taking several deep breaths before dressing calmly. Before her departure she took a tiny red emblem and placed it beside his body. Tweet
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