Hi again! This chapter is dedicated to Awol_Emily, I hope you notice my tribute to your story in here and that you don’t mind it! Edited again but not as much as chapter 1!
It had been a quiet day so far when I had left the station to get myself lunch from the café across the street, but unfortunately the peace didn’t last. No sooner had I sat down, DC Peters burst through the door with flushed cheeks panting lightly.
“DCI Smith, sir!” He exclaimed when he saw me sat at a small table in the middle of the room. I sighed already knowing what was going to happen, and just as I was starting my lunch break I thought bitterly to myself.
“Sir, you’ve gotta come quick there’s been a call out and apparently it’s a real …” He trailed off knowing that he couldn’t say anything else or it would end up as tomorrows headline before we had even seen the body.
That was the only problem with the café; because of its close proximity to the Police Station it made it a hot spot for Police officers as well as nosey news reporters. That’s how it went from being known as ‘Val’s Caff’ to ‘Vultures Caff’. The infestation of reporters wasn’t a big problem as long as they were careful with what they said in the Café. On more than one occasion the media cockroaches had been slipped a few choice words and facts on purpose, to save the police unnecessary media hassle. But this was not one of those times and the keen ears of the Media were listening to their every word with alarming interest, salivating at the thought of a juicy new story.
“Alright Peters lets go.” I said brusquely striding out of the café leaving its patronage behind and spotting my black police issue car without a second glance, dreading the 30 minute drive across town.
The house was cordoned off to the public and although the road was a cul-de-sac there was a fair sized group of people standing at the edge of the tape. The red bricked two story house stood with its door open waiting for me to enter.
A killer point of view
I watched as police officers ran around trying to find anything that could give them a lead to finding the poor girls murderer. It was laughable! They would never find my identity because I didn’t want them too. I know every trick in the book. I know the in’s and the outs of this game and cheaters never win. She was a cheater but no one knew that little fact yet and when they did find out I would be there to witness every bitter sweet moment of the destruction it would cause.
I had watched her for weeks. I had known her pattern, known exactly when her father would be out, and when her lover would be coming round to pick her up. Watching her had been almost too easy and tapping her phone had been no trouble at all.
As I had walked up the steps to her house I had looked around to make sure that there was no one watching me. No one was around and there had been no illuminating glow to show my face even if anyone had seen me. The porch light bulb had mysteriously gone missing the night before. I had waited a few moments before knocking, composing a smile on my face as the door opened, casting an orange light around me. Her smile went from genuine to forced when she realised that I was not who she had been expecting. It didn’t matter to me though as I knew I would be finished with her in a matter of minutes.
“Um, hi?” she had asked questioningly at my appearance at her door.
She had been taller compared to when I had seen her earlier that day, because she wore silver strappy four inch high heels that looked lethal. Her dress was so short I had almost seen her underwear and so low cut that her cleavage had been in danger of spilling out over the top. I could think of many words to describe her, like tramp, tart, vixen and scarlet lady. The last one suited her well as both her dress and her long silky hair had been startling shades of red.
“Yes, I’m very sorry to disturb you miss, I’m Officer Jones,” I said lying casually about my name as I showed her a brief flash of my Police ID badge. “Your neighbour called in earlier saying that there was a strange man lurking in behind the bushes at the end of your front garden.” At this she looked startled and then began to get more alarmed, fidgeting with her hair nervously whilst l gave her an exact description of her lover.
“Oh dear!” she said nervously “How awful, I’ll have to keep an eye out for him. Thank you for taking the time out of your day to come and tell me, it was very kind of you.”
She started to close the door when I said “Miss if you wouldn’t mind could I use your phone for a moment? I’m afraid that I’ve left my mobile at the station. I’m extremely sorry to have to ask but it’s important.” I made my voice as pleading as possible in the hopes that she would let me in so that my plans would not have to be postponed any longer. I wasn’t disappointed.
She led me into her living room and was about to show me where the phone was when she realised how close to her I actually was. She stopped, frozen to the spot as though her feet were stuck to the carpet. My breath tickled her neck and teased at her hair.
“Thank you Lucy, you have been so much help,” I sneered in a hushed voice. She flinched and I could see the panic rise in her body from the way her muscles tensed and her breathing hitched.
“H-how did you know my name?” she breathed not daring to move.
“Oh, Lucy, Lucy, Lucy!” I said in an almost playful manner “I’ve been watching you for some time know. You. Your lover. Your partner. And your lovely red hair of course. I’ve never seen such a wonderful shade of auburn in all my life.”
I reached out to stroke her hair with one of my gloved hands and she whimpered. Before she could even react I had grabbed her hair and coiled it once around my right hand pulling her head back in the process. She let out a shriek of pain and whimpered letting me know that she was crying. I smirked.
“Hush Lucy, you’ll only make things harder for yourself if you scream again!” I growled low and threateningly in her left ear. Then I looped my right arm around over her head and brought (the) silken mass of threads around her throat cutting off her air supply. She struggled for little more than a moment before going limp in my arms.
“Honestly Lucy! Didn’t your father teach you that cheaters never prosper?” I asked as I lay her pale corpse on the tan carpet of her living room. Her face was a mask of despair and horror marred by impure mascara tear tracks down her cheeks. I smiled and left the way I had come (comma) closing the door quietly behind me. I knew the lover would be the one to find her and he would be the one they blamed for her death, it was the only natural explanation for the entire event.
WOW! My mind must be one messed up place to have come up with that! I hope that the narrator change wasn’t confusing for anyone! Please vote and/or leave me a message!
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To Catch A Killer
Mystery / ThrillerFour years after the death of his Ex-wife DCI Thomas 'Tommy' Smith is investigating a murder that is extraordinarily similar and not just because the victims were both women. Questions arise when another woman is found strangled by her hair. Was the...
