Heart Of A Spider - Season 1 - Episode 3

4 years ago

Heart Of A Spider - Season 1 - Episode 3

Kendal’s eyes glanced at the clock on the desk. ‘11:59 pm’ the clock and the one in his
bedroom didn’t correspond. They were nearly half an hour out of synchronization.
The figure again faced the window. Pointing outside he disappeared.

The study window rattled. The house shook from a deep rumble. Everything in the room
moved. Several books sitting in a bookcase fell onto the carpet. A door appeared next to the
window and slowly opened. A grey mist poured into the room. Laughter could be heard coming
from the park when the hall clock struck midnight.
On the twelfth strike of the pendulum, Kendal heard a gunshot. He dived for the floor, trying
to look out on the fog-shrouded park. The trees resembled tall giants. Each wooden arm seemed to be reaching out for their next victim.

Kendal walked through the doorway where the wall should have been, entered the park and
crept down the pea stone path. He took shelter behind a large Elm tree.

“I’m laughing at you,” called a voice from somewhere deep in the park.

A small garden seat came into view. Kendal spied the figure of a woman coiled in a fetal
position under the two person seat. He sprinted over. Squatting, he felt for a pulse.

She was dead.

He draped his long black coat over the blood-stained corpse before looking up to survey the
area through hazel eyes.

The fog concealed the perimeter of the park. His eyes followed the jogger’s path. Twenty feet
along the path it came to an abrupt end where the fog swallowed it. The murderer was somewhere
beyond his visual range. Small droplets of moisture covered his duffel coat. Trees in the park
tormented his eyes as they twisted into ghostly shapes.

Laughter came through the fog. It sounded close. His blood chilled, sending a shiver up and
back down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Kendal jumped, but his
finger remained riveted to the trigger of his gun. The snub nose Beretta digging into his ankle
which saved his life more than once felt uncomfortable. He bumped it using his left shoe to place
it in a more comfortable position.

Kendal stood half bent behind the garden seat. Making no noise he ran across the path
towards a brick garden shed. He glanced back over his shoulder at the corpse. Her long blonde hair looked blood stained and knotted. He felt grieved her life had abruptly ended.

Holding his gun at arm’s length he completed a squat run to the nearest tree. He heard the
crunch of pea stones and the distinct sound of a child’s swing as it squeaked when someone
pushed the seat back and forth. He aimed his gun at the noise.

“Police, freeze sU-Cker,” Kendal yelled.

The sound of footsteps running towards him dislodged leaves from a tree ten metres dead
ahead. A cool breeze brushed his face. The murderous laugh intensified. Footsteps circled him.

Then silence.

Kendal’s gaze darted about looking for the person. One of several park lanterns dotted about
the park for security flickered and brightened. Leaves fell from the tree he’d chosen to hide
behind. Unseen footsteps crunched the path as they closed in on the posse. Kendal squatted,
scanning the area waiting for another sign.
“I’m here,” yelled the murderer, to Kendal’s left. “I’m here,” the voice called again, but this
time to his right. “I’m now standing over you,” hinted the voice.

Kendal felt a hand grip his shoulder.

“Excuse me, Sir, are you detective Kendal?”
“I was asleep young fella. I’m in the middle of a forty-eight hour rest period.”

“Sorry to wake you. There’s an urgent phone call from Police Headquarters.”

Kendal ran stubby fingers through his thick black hair, stretched then peeled his two-metre
frame out of the deck chair. He stared at the tall rake handle built young constable wearing an unwrinkled
police uniform.

“Sir, the phone,” insisted the rookie cop.
“Sugar, give the young rookie a break. He’s already shaking in his boots, and that was before
I made him wake you. He’s only following orders.”

Kendal moved his stare from the young cop to the voice. He studied the athletic frame of a
smiling woman wearing black leather pants and a pink T-shirt. Her long black curly hair protruded
from under her French cap.

“I’m only following orders,” echoed the inexperienced rookie cop, timidly, holding the phone
at arm’s length.