Heart Of A Spider - Season 1 - Episode 25

4 years ago

Heart Of A Spider - Season 1 - Episode 25

“Yes.”
“I’d like to see it,” he growled.
“I hope you’re not insinuating I’m incompetent,” probed Tarskney.
“You gave permission for Burrows to escort a mentally disturbed person on a shopping trip.
Please, feel free to disagree at any time.”
“Yes.”

“Sounds like pure unadulterated incompetence to me.”

“I resent the accusation. Mr. Upp’s credentials were outstanding.”
“I don’t give two hoots about his credentials.”
The woman wagged a finger at Kendal. “If there is even a splinter of a chance a mentally
disturbed person can be miraculously cured we have to investigate the possibility.”
“I want to see his credentials?” insisted Kendal, pounding his fist on the desktop.
Tarskney retrieved the manila folder from a side drawer, slamming it on the desktop.
Focusing on Kendal she glared at him through shark-like eyes.
“I don’t appreciate the rudeness, especially from a cop. Your superiors will hear about this.”
“I welcome their response.”
Kendal swiped the folder, pulling it open. He began to rummage through the pile of fifty
pages. Eventually, he stared at the woman.
“The top five pages repeat themselves throughout the pile,” he spat. “You’ve been conned by
an expert alright. It’s a shame you didn’t pick it. If only you were diligent in running this place I
wouldn’t know you.” He began to pace the floor.

Tarskney watched him while he walked.
Finally, Kendal approached the desk. His face looked strained. “Lady, you’ve put me in a
bind. Because of you, my family is now in grave danger. Patrick is not just insane he’s hell bent on
revenge. It’s a bad combination.”
“I truly didn’t know I was being conned. Upp sounded totally professional.”
Both detectives walked to the door. Pulling the door open Kendal turned to face the woman.
The throng of media reporters shuffled forward crowding around the doorway.
“The media is your problem. I’m tempted not to ask the two questions invading my mind
however you have left me no choice.”
Tarskney folded her arms. “Go ahead, ask your stupid questions.”

The eyes of the media switched their gazes onto Kendal.

“To set the record straight, Ms. Tarskney, did you know Patrick loves to play fire games?”
“I hope you’re satisfied in the fact you have belittled me in front of the media? And no I don’t
know anything bout the so called fire games.”
“I thought as much.”
“You said you have another question.”
“Did you or did you not know Patrick, or as he calls himself now, Pat, is actually a woman
and a medical doctor?”
The look of horror on the Tarskney’s face said it all.

Kendal barged through the reporters. Claire followed close behind.

UPP ESCORTED Patrick out of the building to a waiting taxi. A short five-minute drive and
the car turned up a quiet street close to the sea. A third of the way along the street where tall Elm
trees grew close to the road in the exact middle of each house block the taxi pulled into the curb.
Upp stared out of the car’s window at a single storey house. The grass at the front of the house
appeared to be yellow. The garden beds needed some attention. Weeds appeared to have grown
and were trying to choke the few plants.
Upp leaned forward, tapping the driver on the arm.
“If you come back for us in ten minutes there’ll be a bonus. Keep the meter running.”
Pat and Upp stepped down from the car. They watched it being driven to the end of the street
and turn left. When the vehicle disappeared around the corner Upp and Pat focused on the house.

“I like second storey houses,” commented Pat. “After I have set the house on fire I watch the top floor implode. It’s a great sight. More the better if Kendal is inside the house. His charred body
will be taken to the morgue. After spitting on his grave I’ll walk away to plan my next wave of
revenge. When do I begin to see what I want come to fruition?”

“When I’ve set up what I want and not a moment sooner. Do I make myself clear?”
“Upp, you bore me.”
“Stick to my plan and you’ll have your revenge sooner than later.”

“So you keep saying.”
Escorting Pat up the driveway towards the house, Upp pounded on the door.

“I’m eagerly waiting to hear how good you really are.”
Hearing quick shuffles closing in on the door Upp whispered. “You’re on.” He stepped off the
narrow verandah and hid in the garden two metres from the door.
A young girl, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, answered the knock. Her younger
brother looked from under her shoulder.
“I have a message from Detective Kendal,” announced Patrick, in an authoritative voice.
“I’m not interested,” replied the girl from behind the security door.
“If you’d be kind enough to open the door I’ll hand you the letter. Then I’ll leave. It’ll take no
more than three seconds.”
Patrick heard an audible click. The door opened a tad. A girls’ head poked through the narrow
crack.

“Where’s the note?”
Patrick raised an envelope, thrusting it at the girl. She opened the door wide, snatching it from
his hand.

“Before you close me out I have to comment this house is almost the perfect size,” advised
Patrick.

“Perfect size for what?” asked the girl.
“To burn to the ground.”
Patrick pushed his foot into the gap preventing the girl from pushing the door shut. In a slick
move, he swiped a handgun from his shoulder holster and aimed it at the boy. Pressure on the door
eased. Patrick grinned and stepped inside.
“Walk into the lounge and sit.”
Patrick waved the loaded gun back and forth while he paced the floor in front of the kids.
Finally, the girl sat straight-backed as if trying to defy the gunman’s order.
“There isn’t a message is there?” asked the girl.

“Of course, there is,” barked Patrick.
“So tell me the message,” the girl continued sarcastically.

“Do you know a detective Kendal?”
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”
“Why are you here?” asked the boy.
Patrick quickly sized up the lad and snorted. “You’re too brave for your age group. What’s
your name?”

“My friends call me Slasher.”
“I’m not your friend and I never repeat the same question, it infuriates me. Now answer my
question.”
“Nick.”
Patrick glared at the girl. “What’s your name?”
“Kobe. Why are you here? And I don’t ask the same question more than twice.”
“Change your attitude or I’ll force you. I’m here to take charge.”
“Over what?” Kobe shrieked.
“Over the family business,” growled Patrick.
“Which business are you referring to?”
“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”
“My aunt is in charge,” snarled Kobe.
“No, she’s not. I am.”
“Says who?”
“Me. Hey boy, I need your phone, bring it. Don’t try to escape. If you’re not back by the time
I’ve loaded my gun, I’ll shoot the girl. Don’t just sit there trembling in fear, go now.”
Bug-eyed the lad looked at his sister before refocusing on the gun. He watched Patrick take
two bullets from his pocket, slipping them into two vacant chambers.
“Four bullets to go,” announced Patrick.