Eye focussed on the gently moving body, he sees when the stair door opens, and the movements increase. This is followed almost immediately by a high-pitched screech. His grin widens. This is so much better than being at the movies. No doubt about it. The woman, Karen Smith’s mum, clatters from the house, her sobs fading as she runs into the uncared-for garden. The Man in Black lies back down, wondering how long it will be before emergency services arrive.
Within fifteen minutes, the paramedics have declared Karen Smith deceased. The CSIs, with Hissing Sid managing the scene, are setting up their equipment, gathering their evidence, and photographing the scene. Much of their shock at the ritual setting has been replaced by anger. The language they use – dreadful! This is their third such scene and apart from the frequent curses, the team work with a steady efficiency. The Man in Black is disgruntled. This isn’t as satisfying as the previous scenes were. The sense of awe and appreciation of his skill is absent – replaced by anger. Perhaps he’ll have to mix it up a bit for the next of his ritual kills.
Sid exhales as he picks up and bags the foetal scan, before lifting the paper with verse three of the nursery rhyme and reading it aloud. ‘Listen up. This sicko’s now onto verse three from that damn rhyme. Call up your men dilly, dilly, Set them to work, Some to the plough, dilly, dilly, Some to the fork.’
Sid’s voice is filled with distaste, which is so amusing. ‘There’re five verses apparently and two extra lines. We need to stop him before we get to verse four.’
Just then, Sid’s call to arms is interrupted by the arrival of the police. He waits, his patience draining, as his ears try to pick out Gus McGuire’s deep tones. Instead, all he can hear is DS Cooper as she issues directions as if she’s in charge.
Where oh where are you, Gus? He focuses on Cooper’s tone. Trying to determine her emotions at losing her lover. Even to his discerning ear, she appears professional and focussed. Well done, Alice!
His distraction with Alice is unfortunate, as the sound of a ladder balancing against the ceiling, just near his ear, makes him jump. He almost misses the bit he was looking forward to. One of the CSIs is climbing up to dislodge the pulley system. The Man in Black’s heartbeat increases as he maintains his position. He hears the CSI mumbling as they climb. It’s a woman, her perfume drifts up and he’s enthralled by it. She’s right there, within touching distance. He can hear each breath she takes. ‘Hold the fucking ladder, Sid. Don’t you dare let go.’
The Man in Black grins. His eye to the peephole, she is just there. Her hood rustling, her mask muffling her mumbled moans. She stretches up. He can hear the effort. A voice from below issues instructions – Sid, you old bossy boots.
‘Try not to smudge any prints.’
Oh, Sid, haven’t you realised by now that I don’t leave prints – well, not any I don’t want to be found, that is.
She stretches over. She’s got one of those cordless screwdrivers in her hand. The ladder’s not close enough, so she stretches, then, almost in slow motion, her eyes meet his. She blinks, once, then twice. He doesn’t move. Maybe she’s not seen him. Maybe it’s something else that’s caught her attention. He curses himself for being so foolish. He should have made his nest further away from the action, as usual. What an idiot!
It seems like neither of them can avert their gaze. Her pupils are dilated. He imagines her mouth open in an ‘O’ shape beneath her mask. Does she realise that the eye she so clearly sees is a human one, or does she think it’s a rat or some other vermin? Time stands still and despite the situation, The Man in Black finds his pulse speeding. He should be petrified. He is mere seconds away from discovery and the ball is in the CSI’s court. What will she do?
With slow, measured movements, she lifts the electric screwdriver and she jabs it into the plaster near his face and presses hard. It whirs, catches his cheek, and blinking, he flinches involuntarily. Spellbound, he can’t pull away, not now. She is still looking at him, as a dawning awareness settles in her eyes, as if she realises the vermin she’s caught is the one they’ve all been looking for so diligently. She takes her finger off the control trigger, her eyes still glued to his, confusion and a dash of fear clouding them.
What are you going to do now, my beauty?
A yell from beneath has her gripping the ladder rungs. She glances down and the Man in Black wonders if he should make his escape, now before she explains what she’s seen. But before he can decide, she’s yelling, ‘Sid, where are you going? Don’t let go of the ladder!’
Her voice increases in pitch and volume and the Man in Black sees the ladder beginning to slip. For a heartbeat he wants to punch through the plasterboard and grab her – they had a momentary connection after all, but then self-preservation sinks in. There’s a scuffle below, presumably Sid realising he’s been derelict
