Spider Jack (Guess The Killer Book 2) Read online

  SPIDER JACK

  Guess the Killer, Book Two

  CYRUS WINTERS

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  SPIDER JACK

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  EPILOGUE

  ONE LAST CALL

  KEEP IN TOUCH

  PROLOGUE

  Rain. Hard, ferocious, unrelenting rain washed across the nighttime city roads. Through the thick and wet, a bus slowly edged round the corner, and dropped off a single passenger. A few moments later, the bus’s engine, the splashing of the tires, was but a distant echo. Lightning crashed through the sky. Thunder drowned all.

  The man glanced behind him. Under the hood of his dark coat, he was little more than a pair of drenched eyes, trying to see through the rain. Only… There were more to these eyes.

  More to this man.

  He turned back around, facing forward once more. A gloved hand gripped a suitcase by his side. With a sense of purpose, he crossed the road and walked along the footpath. There were houses on his left. Cracks of light seeped out to the path before him, as he passed on through.

  Somewhere, not too far away, a dog was howling. Tied up presumably. Choking on the elements.

  The man was less bothered by them.

  He stopped outside one of the houses, observing the numbers etched to the brick letterbox, marking its address. This was it. He had arrived.

  He took a moment to compose himself, just standing there. Inhaling the cold. Feeling the atmosphere. Thunder sounded and he lowered his head, climbing the concrete steps up to the front door of the home. Water spilled from his forehead, along his coat, and onto the straw mat.

  He peered in through the frosted window on his right and took hold of the knocker.

  He rapped it four times.

  Voices. Movement. He took another breath and put his back to the front door.

  It opened behind him.

  “Hello there,” the father of the house greeted.

  The man in the coat didn’t answer at first.

  He heard the father opening the screen, taking a step out towards him.

  “Sir…?”

  The man lowered his head. Turned to the side.

  He lowered his suitcase to the concrete porch and went into his coat pocket to retrieve something.

  “Sir, I think you’ve got the wrong house.”

  The man’s gloved hands came out, clasped together.

  The legs tickled the inside surface.

  He faced the father.

  “What have you got there?”

  The man stared at him intently.

  Then unleashed the spider onto the father’s face.

  CHAPTER 1

  Taylor Shandling’s morning started at ten am, the same time someone unknown showed up at her front door and started hitting the bell and peering through her windows. Taylor woke up on the floor beside her mattress. She didn’t have to go into work today. She didn’t have to go into work any day. Captain McGuiness had put her on indefinite leave. The whole precinct was under investigation from internal affairs. They were still trying to figure out how a serial killer mental case was ever given a gun and a badge and allowed to climb the ranks within the department. Then there was the older detective – the supposedly good cop who’d been there for years – who was involved in a shooting at the precinct, getting himself killed along with a special agent. Taylor had gone through the ring. Interview after interview after interview. Was she like them, they wanted to know? Was she another one of the crazies? Taylor’s feet collided with a couple of empty vodka bottles on her way to answering the front door.

  “Good morning. Are you Detective Shandling?”

  There was a well-dressed, middle aged woman with flowing dark hair and glasses standing on Taylor’s porch.

  “Yeah, that’s me,” Taylor said closing the front door behind her. “Who are you?”

  “Captain McGuiness sent me. I’m here to discuss what’s been going on with you.”

  “Well, Jesus, can you have her call me and make an appointment,” Taylor whined. “Why are you here at my house? Are you here to bring me in?”

  “No, no, no, nothing like that,” the woman assured her. “We can talk in the house.”

  Taylor looked away from her. Pulled a cigarette from her pocket and lit it.

  “Or out here if you prefer.”

  Taylor went to the porch’s railing and lent against it. “Say what you got to say.”

  “Right,” the woman nodded. Smiled. “My name is Vera Redcroft. I’m a licensed practitioner and psychiatrist. One of my colleagues has referred me to your case. Your Captain’s husband, I believe.”

  “Ex-husband.”

  “Oh really? Are you sure?”

  “So what are you here for? To give me some therapy?”

  “Well,” Ms. Redcroft shuffled. “I’m here to help you in any way I can. I would suggest we start by discussing some of the events that’s led you … to your presence circumstance…”

  Taylor stared at her, weary eyed. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “Oh, I wasn’t saying there was. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”

  “So if there’s nothing wrong with me, what are you for then? Did Simon instruct you to hand over whatever information you get from me over to the Captain?”

  “What? God no. I would never do that. Our conversation would be entirely in confidence. I would never repeat a word of it.”

  “And I’m just supposed to trust you.”

  “Do you have issues with trust?”

  Taylor flicked her cigarette away. She stepped away from the railing. “Listen, I’m sure you’re a lovely person and you mean well and everything.”

  “Yes, I do –”

  “Shut up. I’m talking.”

  Ms. Redcroft fell silent.

  Taylor stood by the front door. She looked the woman up and down. “As I was saying, I’m sure you’re amazing and wonderful and everyone’s life change
s the moment they meet you. But here’s the thing. I’m not crazy. I don’t need help with my brain or my feelings. I deal with the shit, my way.”

  “I’m sensing you have a lot of anger inside you,” Ms. Redcroft said. “You’re very bitter. That must hurt. If you’re in pain, if you want someone to talk to –”

  “You would be the last person I’d call.”

  Taylor pulled the door back and stepped inside the house.

  Her back fell against it, shutting out whatever else Ms. Redcroft may have been trying to say. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Taylor had heard it all before.

  Her heart was closed.

  CHAPTER 2

  At ten thirty that same morning, Special Agent Scott Darper was on his way to a business meeting with his superiors in the city, when he decided to swing by a crime scene he’d plucked from the bulletin that caught his interest.

  He parked his car across the road and got out to find a man and woman in blue standing out the front of the house, scanning the area. From what Darper had learned from the bulletin they were looking at multiple homicides in the residence, so backup would be there within minutes.

  He walked towards the cops with his ID held up, on display.

  “Good morning, I’m Special Agent Darper. I heard you uh, got a few bodies in the house there.”

  “Good morning, Agent Darper,” the female officer replied. “Yes, we suspect an unlawful entry to this premises. Neighbors phoned in a disturbance last night, but it got lost in the mail so to speak.”

  “Is that right?”

  “The front door’s unlocked and there appears to be a deceased man in his forties on the ground a short way from it.”

  “There may be more inside,” the male officer added.

  “Have you done a search yet?” Darper asked.

  “Not yet,” the female officer said. “There appears to be an infestation. No one can enter without the proper safety gear.”

  “Yeah,” Darper smiled. “I read something about that. Spiders, wasn’t it?”

  The officers looked at each other.

  They nodded.

  “May I ask what kind of spiders you saw in there?”

  “Neither of us are arachnologists, Special Agent,” the male officer answered.

  Darper stared at them blankly.

  “They’re big and black,” the female officer said.

  “How many?”

  They shrugged. “I counted four.”

  “Alright,” Darper said. “You see, the thing is … I’ve got this cold case that’s been in the system a few years, involving one of these spider freaks.”

  “Spider freak?”

  “Some loon. Some … psycho. We almost got him last time. I swear we were this close… But he hasn’t put his head up in five years. I’ve been waiting for something like this. And I was in the neighborhood so here I am.”

  “You have to speak with our Captain, Rose McGuiness,” the male officer stated. “This is city jurisdiction.”

  “Oh, I know,” Darper said. “But I just want to have a quick look.”

  “For what exactly?”

  “I need to see what the house looks like. What he’s done in there. There’s always a reason for these things, no matter how twisted.”

  Their interest was fading.

  “I just need to see whether it’s our guy. If you let me in now, it’s gonna save a hell of a lot of bureaucracy and paperwork. Especially if it’s not the guy. Because I have to report this to my boss –”

  “You do understand it’s not safe to go in there?” the female cop asserted.

  Darper’s eyes widened. “Why? Because of the spiders?”

  “You’re gonna get us in trouble,” the male officer said.

  “Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking. I’ll be in and out. No one will know I was there.”

  The female exhaled. She looked at her partner.

  “If it is my guy, I’ll be sure to pass on to Rose how helpful you both were. Remember with these things, every hour counts. We got to move on this while he’s still in the area.”

  “Alright,” she nodded. “Five minutes. Just be careful.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me,” Darper said, beginning his ascent of the stairs. “I was born for this…”

  CHAPTER 3

  Snap. Snap. White powder sprinkled the air as Darper stretched his hands through a pair of disposable gloves. He twisted the knob of the front door and stood at the edge of it, gazing in. The body was three metres away, positioned on its side facing away from him. Darper paused before going any further. He scanned through the narrow hallway. Zoned in on the corners that were darker than others. Took in the feel of it.

  A tarantula-like spider scampered away from the head of the body to move across the passage into another room.

  “Okay,” Darper said out loud. “Okay…”

  He slowly closed the front door behind him and ventured through the hall towards the man’s body. Jeans. Sweater. Collared shirt underneath.

  Darper snapped a photo of the body with his phone. He then put his shoe to the man’s shoulder and gave him a gentle push to ground, turning him over.

  Snap. Snap. Snap.

  There were a few bitemarks around the sides and forehead of the man’s face, but it was the gunshot to his throat that had caused his ultimate demise. It was singular. Precise. Straight through the Adam’s-apple, bursting the whole things apart. Plenty of dried blood around the mouth. Eyes wide open.

  Darper glanced behind him and saw the assailant bursting into the property, perhaps even hurling a spider or two at the man to catch him off guard before shooting him. The man hadn’t died immediately, crashing to the floor and trying to get up, presumably to alert others who were in the house. It was in that position his body froze. And the killer had no other use for it. It was time to move on.

  Darper looked ahead. There were stairs, leading up to the second floor. He strained his ears a moment, just in case there was something he was missing.

  A dog barked.

  The two officers shared muffled words.

  A gentle breeze went by.

  Satisfied, Darper moved around the body and turned to the opening on his right, which led to a dining area.

  Plates of partially eaten food were sitting on the table. Gravy and bread in the centre. Salt and pepper shakers.

  Some napkins.

  A teenage male in a t-shirt and cargo pants had taken a bullet to his temple the moment the killer entered. He was still seated in his place at the table, slumped over in the chair. His blood stained the tablecloth.

  With some reluctance, Darper held his phone out and took a quick picture. He moved round the bottom end of the table and went to the other side, walking towards the top end.

  There was a kitchen straight ahead. Two more bodies clearly present.

  Female.

  Darper advanced slowly.

  “You son of a bitch,” he whispered out loud.

  The dead girl was only nine or ten years old. Knees bent. Head buried into the tiles. Black blood through the hair. And surrounding.

  Snap.

  Darper breathed in deeply. Then turned his attention to the mother.

  She was in her forties. Business skirt. Brown jacket. She was sitting with her back against the dishwasher, her body shifted to one side. Head sagging. Eyes closed. Trickles of blood around the top of her head.

  Darper squinted. He took another step towards her and knelt down.

  He saw something move underneath her jugular.

  “Miss,” Darper exclaimed. “Miss, are you – are you…?”

  He grabbed her wrist.

  A pulse.

  She was alive.

  “Miss!” Darper shouted, shaking her. “Miss, wake up!”

  The woman’s eyes fluttered. She turned towards him slightly, her vision slowly fading in.

  Darper’s veins suddenly went ice cold. Terror squeezed through his belly and up through is throat. />
  It was the look in her eyes.

  A look of horror, until that moment Darper had never seen.

  The woman’s lips only parted at first –

  Then her whole mouth dropped.

  “Oh God!” Darper screamed standing back up.

  The tarantulas began climbing out of her mouth and all over her face –

  One, two, three, four, five –

  CHAPTER 4

  Dwayne Ross was having some trouble reading his newspaper. The headlines he could make out easily enough – he had no problem with those. It was the finer print that was causing his eyes to strain. Behind him, the ceiling’s lighting panels went off and on in short bursts. It had been a while since anyone had been in this garage Dwayne figured – anyone trying to read something that is.

  “I’m telling you, there’s nothing left,” the man in the chair was saying. “My shit got jacked last Sunday. Ask anybody. Ask Wallis. He’ll tell you. I’m not good for nothing anymore.”

  Dwayne continued his attempt at reading. The man in the chair let out another yelp as he was struck a fifth time – followed by a sixth and a seventh. He could hear the blood sag from his mouth and land on the concrete floor.

  Dwayne turned the page.

  “You can search the house. I swear it to you. I swear … Hey. Hey, Ross! Are you even listening to me?”

  Dwayne’s eyes squinted further. He rolled his tongue along the back of his throat.

  “Wait, please don’t – No! ARRRGH!”

  There wasn’t anything good. In the paper. Someone had lifted the sports section. It wouldn’t be the end of it, though. Dwayne would be saying something when they got back.

  “Stop it! Stop!”

  Dwayne set the paper aside on the billiard table. His neck craned forward.

  Max turned to him holding a pair of pliers. He’d taken one of the man’s teeth.

  “Well,” Dwayne said slowly. “What you’re holding must be a lot. I’m sure if it was a smaller amount you would have caved sooner.”

  “Or I ain’t got nothing,” Lionel fired back. “If you listen to me man, you’ll see I’m telling you the truth. There is no drugs. There’s no money neither.”