The Scarlet Web, Chapter Two (standard:Suspense, 2606 words) [2/3] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Feb 13 2003	Views/Reads: 3109/2162	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Chapter two of my thriller, The Scarlet Web; this involves a detective, and a woman he finds himself becoming to care for. But is she the serial killer?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

of view but their own. The net result was at the end of the day, 
nothing changed, not even the gripes, and you ended up wasting your 
precious time. 

Ironically, it was Mary's notion of team spirit which encouraged these
meetings, but almost always when they concluded, morale was lower than 
before. There were no surprises on this occasion either, and she'd been 
relieved when the get-together had disbanded, whereupon she and Carly 
tracked across the road to the pub opposite. 

They'd been in the main bar for about twenty minutes when Mike Eveson
came in. A tallish man, Shelley noticed, he was casually dressed in 
denim shirt and stonewash jeans, and wore a black suede jacket. She was 
surprised when Carly singled him out, he certainly didn't seem like a 
policeman to her. 

She watched him stroll across the room towards them, Carly immediately
jumping to her feet smiling, tossing back her long hair. ‘This is Mike, 
the copper I've just been telling you about. Isn't he a dish? Mike, 
meet Shelley.' 

‘Flattery will get you everywhere,' Mike smiled, turning his attention
quickly to Carly's friend, taking in her long golden hair and china 
blue eyes which looked so serious. He leaned across the table and 
offered his hand, which she seemed to take reluctantly. 

Shelley felt herself being weighed up, something she was used to but
didn't like. It was mainly males who studied her this way, as though 
she was some kind of oil painting, not flesh and blood. She began to 
wish she'd never accepted Carly's invitation. 

Mike smiled broadly, ‘Can I get you ladies a drink?' 

Shelley indicated a glass half full with tonic, ‘No thanks I'm okay. I
can't stay long, I have to get back to Norfolk.' 

‘Make mine a g&t Mike,' Carly said lightly enough, but as he made his
way to the bar she turned to Shelley, her eyes darkening. 

‘You were a bit abrupt weren't you? If I'd have known you were going to
play the iron maiden I wouldn't have invited you.' 

‘I didn't mean it to sound that way,' Shelley said, fearing she'd upset
her friend, she took a sip from her tonic, ‘all I meant was I've got a 
long drive back, if it sounded a bit flat I'm sorry.' 

‘I don't suppose Mike would have noticed,' Carly said, sighing,  ‘but in
any case it was your bright idea to live in the middle of nowhere.' 

Shelley felt herself reddening, only she knew why she needed so much
space, just as only she knew what it felt like to be regarded as some 
kind of exhibit. 

‘Are you sure I can't get you anything ?' Mike said to Shelley, handing
Carly her gin and tonic which she sipped eagerly. 

‘No, but thanks for the offer, Shelley managed a smile as Mike hung his
suede jacket over the back of his chair. 

He took a gulp of his pint, regarding the two women thoughtfully in the
brief silence that followed, they weren't dissimilar in appearance 
really, once you accounted for the contrast between Carly's dark looks 
and her friend's fair features. They both had full, attractive faces 
and athletic builds, he thought that the blonde was possibly the more 
powerfully built of the two, but there wasn't really much in it. 

He saw Carly regarding him with eager eyes, and putting down his pint he
said, ‘You want to know if I can update you on the latest sexual 
assaults, yes?' 

Carly nodded emphatically, ‘You know me so well Mike.' Shelley noticed
the way Carly's smile widened as she spoke and she felt just a stab of 
envy that Carly could be so amenable towards male attention, whereas 
she only froze in the face of it. 

Mike's features bore no such smile, it had vanished in the face of the
disappointing news he had to impart, ‘I'm afraid the answer to your 
question is no, Carly, but we're doing all we can, believe me. I'll 
work night and day if I have to.' 

For a few uncomfortable seconds it seemed Carly was throwing daggers at
him. ‘You can try all you want Mike, but the bottom line is we want the 
bastards caught, so don't expect any soft soaping in my column.' 

The normally ready smile had gone from Carly's face, but Mike wasn't
surprised at that, she wanted results, she expected them, and when she 
didn't get them there was always a mild show of reproof before the real 
Carly came through again. 

The fingers of Shelley's left hand tapped furiously on her right wrist,
‘It's coming to something when you can't walk the streets without some 
jerk jumping you because he's pissed out of his box and fancies a bit 
of a bash, I mean come on.' 

Mike raised his eyebrows at Shelley's vehemence, then his eyes narrowed
as her hands suddenly gripped her glass so tightly it shattered into 
small pieces, sending fragments and tonic across the table and on to 
the floor.' 

‘Oh hell!' I'll clean it up.' Shelley's face contorted into a grimace
Mike found so much at odds with her features that it shook him. He 
clasped an arm around her shoulders, ‘No you just sit there, I'll see 
to it, no harm done.' 

Carly watched Mike walk briskly to the bar, ‘What's got into you, sure
you're okay?' 

Shelley sighed, she fought the tide of adrenaline surging within her,
her head spun, and her senses raged like the waters of a stormy sea. 
‘I'm okay, I just came over funny for a minute.' She took a deep breath 
and gave Carly what she thought was a reassuring glance. 

Carly frowned, obviously unconvinced, ‘I should see a doctor, you've
seemed off all afternoon.' 

Shelley carefully removed a piece of glass from her jeans, she didn't
bother to reply, they would only be wasted words. 

Mike returned and cleared the table, ‘I'll get you another tonic.' 

She shook her head, ‘No, thanks all the same, I'm not that thirsty.' She
locked her eyes on Mike, ‘Where did these attacks take place?' 

He met her stare for several seconds before speaking, those eyes, so
clear, so intense, and she seemed to hold a surprising interest in 
these cases. He delved into his pocket, and drawing out his cigarettes, 
selected one. ‘Leytonstone, it was the attack on the waitress that was 
the worst, some of the worst facial injuries I've seen.' 

Shelley nodded, glancing out at the traffic on the rain swept high
street, but her eyes weren't taking in the dismal scene outside, her 
mind was picturing another scene, containing atrocities which made her 
seethe. ‘I know,' she turned to Carly, blotting out the images, ‘I've 
seen the woman's photograph.' 

Mike drew on his cigarette, ‘We think it likely that her attacker was
among the clientele at Clipper's night club where she worked. That he 
followed her out, waited until she was on the side street, tried to 
pull her into his car by all accounts, and then when she resisted, 
bingo.' 

‘Imposed his masculinity, you mean,' Shelley felt a tightening in her
throat, wished she'd had that drink after all, ‘haven't you anything at 
all to go on ?' 

‘I'm supposed to be asking the questions here,' Carly gave her a jab.
Mike looked across the table thoughtfully, the comment might have been 
made in jest, but Carly looked just a little agitated. 

‘She's doing my job for me,' Carly added, giving a quick smile. 

‘So I notice,' he said, his eyes lingering on the blonde until her own
eyes widened and she looked away, ‘as it happens we've a photo-kit 
picture of the alleged attacker on display in the foyers of local 
stations. Unfortunately the girl's suffered shock apart from her 
injuries, so how accurate it is we aren't certain.' 

‘Well I hope the thug who did it is caught soon,' Carly remarked with a
toss of her long dark hair,‘there's just so much of it going on.' 

‘So say all of us,' Shelley agreed, getting to her feet and gazing out
the window, the rain seemed to be getting heavier, cars sprayed through 
the puddles, their windscreen wipers flashing like blades. ‘Well I must 
be going, it's been nice meeting you.' 

‘Nice meeting you to,' Mike jumped to his feet, offering his hand, this
time she took it without reluctance, and the strength of her grip shook 
him. ‘Perhaps we might meet again in less pressing circumstances,' he 
joked, wringing his hand, but he thought then, that might not be a bad 
idea at all. ‘What do you say, Shelley ?' 

She lowered her gaze, ‘I don't know, perhaps.' Despite her misgivings,
this man seemed nice, but couldn't he be a sheep in wolves' clothing, 
what might she be letting herself in for ? But then, she could take 
care of herself, what was she afraid of ? 

The male species. The hunter. 

‘Perhaps,' she repeated, looking back at him, then placing a hand on her
friend's shoulder, see you tomorrow, Carly.' 

‘How will I know?' he called after her. 

‘You're the detective, find me.' She stopped and turned, ‘I'll call,
okay ?' 

‘Okay.' Mike smiled as he watched the fair haired girl dig her hands
deep into the pockets of her fashionable black leather coat and walk 
out. He doubted it very much, but you could only hope. He'd been on his 
own too long. 

‘I wouldn't count your chickens.' 

‘Eh?' Mike glanced at Carly and sat down, he'd almost forgotten about
her, and that was rudeness itself. 

‘I wouldn't count your chickens,' Carly repeated, sipping her drink,
‘Shelley's okay, she's a good sort, but the original bloody ice maiden. 
Ask anyone at the Combined News building.' 

‘It certainly looks like she works out a lot,' Mike said feeling his
hand again, it was still sore, she might have even bruised a bone. 

‘Hit the nail on the head,' Carly drained her glass. 

‘I'd offer you another, but I have to be getting back,' Mike said
finishing off his own pint. 

‘Not a problem, I need to be going too.' Carly pulled back her chair,
then wrapped her coat around her shoulders before giving him a cool 
glance. ‘Remember what I told you Mike, you'll be wasting your time on 
that one.' * She'd known she wouldn't contact him as soon as he'd 
uttered the words. It wasn't worth the risk. The thought of any man's 
lips on hers made her feel sick, it always had, ever since that evening 
all those years ago. The thought of anything more than that physically 
made her puke. Boots Taylor hadn't just taken her virginity, he'd taken 
her soul, and at times she feared, her sanity too. 

Splish splash, splish splash, the wipers drove back and forth, creating
rivulets of water down the front of her screen. It was a day to be home 
early, but she wasn't returning to Norfolk just yet. There was 
something else she needed to do. 

It took only a few minutes to reach the doors of Canning Town police
station. The information board in the foyer provided her with the 
details she'd sought since the brief meeting with Mike Eveson: 

“On Tuesday 10th October a vicious and unprovoked attack took place in
Davis Lane, Leytonstone, where a young female was beaten and sexually 
assaulted, sustaining severe injuries to face and body -” 

Shelley focused her eyes coolly on an artist's impression of the woman's
assailant where they remained for some considerable time. A young 
constable regarded her curiously, ‘Can I help you madam ?' She turned 
to him, ‘No, thanks all the same.' Then as she smiled, the officer 
swore he could feel its chill. 

‘ 


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