The detective was scared. She grabbed both of The Phantom’s hands, those strong hands that were wrapped around the knife that stuck into her upper chest, and clung on for dear life, thinking that as long as the knife stayed inside her shoulder, it couldn’t be forced into her again to create another wound elsewhere. But she couldn’t hold on, the strength of The Phantom seemingly increased with every second that passed, Summers the contrary.
The Phantom yanked the knife upward and out of Summers reach, raising it above her head, screaming as she did so, saliva dripping from her open mouth and into Summers’ face, then she brought down the knife, aiming for the heart. Summers kicked out against the floor and pushed herself along a few inches, forcing her would-be-killer to miss her target.
The knife sank into Summers’ stomach.
Summer cried in pain and out of fear. This was the end, it was clear now. After years of working as a police officer, to finally get to the position where she could hunt down the killer of her father, she had found The Phantom, but lost the fight.
Mrs Green raised the knife above her head once more, staring down at the defenceless Summers, feebly trying to shield her body with the one arm that still functioned properly.
‘You killed my father,’ she stated, having given up hope and staring into the eyes of her enemy; a half-hearted beg for compassion.
‘And now you,’ replied The Phantom. ‘Die!’ she yelled, as she used all her energy to bring the knife down and into her latest victim.
But the knife didn’t move.
Kite had grabbed the handle of the knife and wrestled it out of the killer’s hands. Mrs Green looked shocked as she turned to see the truncheon swinging through the air towards her head.
CRACK
The truncheon rendered her unconscious instantly.
Kite pulled her off of his boss’ body and handcuffed her hands together behind her back, then used Summers’ handcuffs to attach her to the table. He wasn’t taking any chances with this mean bitch.
Finally some good fortune arrived, as the back-up made its belated entrance into the kitchen via the back door.
‘Is the ambulance here yet?’ Kite asked his colleague.
‘Yes, sir,’ came the reply from the uniformed officer, before calling an out of sight colleague to get the medics.
The officer and Kite applied pressure to the wounds of Summers until the ambulance crew were inside and ready to take over. She was losing blood fast, but holding on.
Her pulse was weak, but steady.
50
TWO WEEKS LATER
Summers sat upright on the hospital bed as the nurse applied the finishing touches to the sling that would keep her arm restrained, limiting any movement that could dislodge the stitches that were still in place, holding together the area in her shoulder that had been torn to shreds by her attacker.
Normally, stitches over main joints could be removed around the fourteen day mark, but the extent of the damage inflicted meant the doctor preferred to leave them in for another three or four days.
The wound in Summers’ stomach was even more serious.
Kite had held her hand as she lay unconscious in the back of the ambulance, fighting for her life as the paramedic did his best to stem the bleeding until she was into the emergency surgery room and handed over to the team of surgeons who took over and did the necessary.
She was in and out of consciousness for days, mainly due to the medication that was being dripped into her system to ease the pain.
After a week she was stable and fully compos mentis, and had received visits from colleagues and friends, who all praised her strength for pulling through such an horrific attack, and also her amazing work as a police officer, tracking down and putting into custody the most elusive serial killer the current generation were likely to see or hear of in their lifetime.
Privately, Summers felt all the praise was too much. She had only spoken to Kite about this. Ever since he saved her life she felt an overwhelming bond with him. One would imagine this is normal. He told her that everything she had said and thought about this case was correct.
‘But we got lucky,’ she would say.
‘You make your own luck,’ he would argue.
He reminded her that finding Ben Green was down to her instinct, and her persistence led them directly to his mother, Mrs Green, aka The Phantom.
Watts had visited Summers once, telling her that she was in absolutely no hurry to come back to work and that she should take as much time as necessary to recover fully. He was very happy that the case of The Phantom had been solved, and had to try hard not to smile too much in front of his star detective, as she was still clearly in pain and traumatised by the preceding events.
Kite had kept Summers up to date with how things were going with the case against Mrs Green, which was looking good in respect of her never being free to harm anyone again.
Mrs Green had at first tried to deny any involvement in the crimes, then she heard the tape that had been recorded of her and Ben discussing the murders. Kite was relentless in the interview room and eventually broke her down.
She admitted to all the twelve murders that occurred in the crime hot spot, plus the murder of Charles Peacock. She adamantly denied knowing anything about the other murders in the five other cases, so Watts would have to admit defeat with these and send them off to the cold case department for the time being. How truthful she was being was hard to judge, as her mental health had seriously deteriorated.
Kite had managed to get a signed confession from his suspect, but on the advice from her lawyer, she would plead her case of insanity. He knew it was true, she was mad, how can anyone take the lives of others and be labelled as sane?
Summers had asked Kite what happened when he went upstairs at the house.
Kite explained that he followed the noise and saw Ben with a rope around his neck. He had turned to the detective as Kite entered the bedroom, tears streaming down his face and he mouthed the word, ‘sorry.’
‘Don’t do it,’ Kite had yelled, but it was too late. The troubled Ben Green had jumped out of the window and killed himself. The rope around his neck had snapped numerous bones and Ben died instantly.
Kite had frantically pulled him back inside the bedroom, only to see he had the dead body of a multiple murderer in his arms. Kite had wiped the tears from the deceased face and had to wipe his own eyes, which had begun to fill with drops of sadness. He had seen many dead bodies before, but to see someone alive, hear them say sorry and then to have them dead in your arms moments later, there was no police training to prepare you for that.
Summers had read a copy of Ben’s suicide note, a mixture of confession, explanation and hopes of forgiveness. He had confessed to the murders of Ricky Robinson, Alexia White and last but not, his fiancée, Natalie.
Something that struck both Summers and Kite was the fact that Ben had confessed to the murder of Natalie before it had taken place. Of course, this was a premeditated murder, but the belief that Ben had, that she was pregnant with his child, a child who would no doubt carry the same destructive gene that he and his mother had been inflicted with, gave the impression that Ben had truly believed he was doing the right thing.
What a twisted world we live in.
Kite confirmed to Summers that Natalie had not in fact been pregnant, which led them to the conclusion that she had lied to Ben, for what reason they would never know, although it was clear that in this way she had been directly involved with the reason for her death, even if she was oblivious to the terrible things that were happening around her fiancée and his family.