Heart Of A Spider - Season 1 - Episode 17

Episode 4 years ago

Heart Of A Spider - Season 1 - Episode 17

“What are you looking for?”
“I have to be careful. I don’t
want my identity discovered.”
“Discovered by whom?”

“The underworld, cops, a boy scout, Kendal, Ambroso, a two-bit rookie cop who pushes a
pencil in a two-bit police station in the middle of the bush, anyone and everyone.”

“Ambroso and Kendal,” echoed Pat, snarling at hearing the two names. “Yes, we share a
common interest. After Kendal has been dealt a fatal blow, Ambroso’s funeral will be a party,
icing on the cake, cherry in the pie, escargot in a French restaurant.”

Upp sprinted at Pat, pointing his finger. “You better not do anything to blow my cover?”
“I know, I know. Don’t be a boring little man.”
“If I’m discovered, I’m dead.”
“You must get off on repeating yourself,” jeered Pat sarcastically.

“You make me nervous.”
“Good. Do you want to confess some more information about what’s going on or do I have to guess? Like, what’s this heart of a spider? Is it a drink, a food? What?”
“Heart of a spider is the name I’ve given my drug operation.”
“Is that it?”
“I live the high life. It’s the way I like it and the way I want it to stay.”
“What does Upp stand for?”
“Unimportant person,” he growled.
“Shame you can’t spell.” Studying the man closely, Pat chuckled. He pointed a long slender
finger between his eyes. “I’m curious to know your real name?”

“You know what curiosity did? The last man who said I had a funny name died. Does that
quench your fiery curiosity?”
“Not really.”

“You have no need to know anything more than what I’ve told you.” Upp walked to the door.
“When I return, things will be cooking.” He gave a short sharp chuckle and closed the door in his
wake.


BURROWS CHECKED his watch before again staring at the angry faces of the shoppers
glaring at him through the ceiling to floor front glass window. He stepped back, banging on the
change room door.
“Upp, what’s keeping you? It doesn’t take ten minutes to change.” He b@nged on the door
again. Scratching the stubble on his chin, he stood facing the cubicle door, shrugged and kicked
the door in.

Outside the store, the sea of faces appeared to be at least twenty deep then more people lined
up outside trying to see what all the fuss was about. One middle-aged woman began pounding on
the door. She threatened to smash the glass if the door wasn’t opened immediately.
Burrows sprinted into the cubicle, shaking his head. He repeated his performance at the other
cubicle doors.

Pat and Upp were gone.
Swearing a mouthful of verbal diarrhea Burrows reached for his mobile phone. Hearing an
audible click he saw the front door to the shop being pushed open. Two burly security guards ran
into the store, making a bee-line for the cubicles.
“You, holding the mobile phone, get on the floor.”

Burrows watched the man’s rock steady hand pointing a gun at him. He quickly reasoned the
man couldn’t be persuaded to put the gun away till he heard the full story.

The prison guard dropped his mobile phone back into his pocket. Lying on the floor he tried
desperately to explain the escape.
“If you’ll phone a detective Kendal and get him here this drama will be settled? Besides, I
have to go find an escaped prisoner.”
“At least ten minutes ticked off before the glass front door was again opened.

Kendal looked to be a half step in front of Claire when they marched into the shop. He held
the surrounded man wearing a guard’s uniform in contempt.
“Are you both detectives?” asked Burrows.
His face looked strained. A large vein surfaced on his neck causing red capillaries to burst,
making his skin look blotchy.

Kendal produced his police badge.
“Thank you for coming so fast. This is big trouble. The head of the mental institution didn’t
appreciate the news of the escape one bit.”
“Me either,” jeered Kendal.
“Don’t concern yourself on what’s happening outside, Sir, the media always attracts
attention,” stated Claire.

“You mentioned the person who escaped is from the mental institution?” growled Kendal.
“Yes.”

Burrows relayed the story in detail and ended by showing the three cubicles he’d been
guarding. “There’s no need to study the walls. I’ve already done it.”

Kendal rubbed his chin, deep in thought. He walked into the middle cubicle and studied the
walls, glancing suspiciously at the guard.
“If you’ve done a preliminary inspection how do you explain the escape?”

“I swear I did the inspection and I can’t explain how both escaped. The Upp bloke must have
planned the whole thing from the start. He’s a real piece of work.”

Kendal grunted, walking to the front of the shop. At least ten journo’s immediately
photographed him a least a dozen times each. An anchorman leaning against the glass shop front shoved a microphone under his nose.
“Detective, explain what’s going on?”
“No comment.” He turned his attention to the young female shop assistant. “Were you on
duty when the escape happened?”
“Yes, Sir.”

Hearing the girl’s comment the media instantly photographed her. A barrage of questions