Web of Darkness

by Bali Rai

‘I’ve never even thought about riding horses.’

  ‘You should try everything once, Tilly.’

  The Spider receives confirmation twenty minutes later. The girl is secured. He smiles and looks at the desk before him. Two sim cards. Two mobile phones. Two young people to play.

  Once again, he runs through each detail of his next step. When he is sure, he is ready.

  It’s time to step out of the darkness . . .

  37

  He sent his next text as I finished my chores.

  Hello, Lily – time to play?

  I was going to ignore him, but anger got the better of me. I wanted to take the mop I’d just used and stick it up his arse. I typed quickly.

  Booked in any more perverts lately?

  That’s very flippant. Aren’t you worried about what I’m capable of? I would be, in your shoes . . .

  I was worried – he was right about that – but I was also determined that he wouldn’t know. That was what he wanted – for me to cower. He wanted that power over me. I was sure of it.

  I’m not scared of you, you dickhead. You’re the one who’s anonymous. Don’t hide yourself away . . .

  Are you trying to psych me out? Wow – that’s so, like, last century.

  I’d changed so much since that first contact with him. He’d changed me. I’d been mouse-like back then. Now, even though I wasn’t exactly a lion, I wasn’t going to run and hide either. No matter how much he frightened me.

  You’re a coward – afraid to show your face.

  If only you knew how far away you are from the truth.

  I know the truth. If you were a man, you’d show yourself.

  What makes you think I won’t?

  Because you’re weak. You can pretend anything on the end of a keyboard. That’s why you do it. In the real world, you’re just a loser, aren’t you?

  Is that big lump Kane a real man? Would he have assaulted me if he’d caught me last night?

  He would have killed you, you nasty little shit!

  He is nothing, Lily. One of hundreds who believe the fist gives them control. I have more power in my fingers. In one finger. I can tap, tap, tap his life away, if I choose.

  No you can’t – that’s the point. You sit there, pretending to be all-powerful, but you can’t face real people.

  But I see real people every day, Lily. I see you and your friends. I see your teachers. I see . . .

  Is that supposed to scare me?

  You’re already scared, Lily. You cower in your bedroom, unable to sleep. I bet you dream of poor Max and Molly – swinging in the breeze . . .

  That was the reply that did it. My anger gave way to utter terror and I felt my legs begin to quiver. It was just a game to him. Max and Molly had meant nothing. Even as I typed my next reply, trying to keep up my pretence at bravado, my hands were shaking.

  Fuck you!

  You’re not my type, you dumpy bitch. Your mum, on the other hand . . .

  I felt the air rush out of my lungs. My heart hammered against my chest cavity.

  I could enter your house tonight, Lily. Through the rotten window in the downstairs loo? You know the one . . .

  I felt sick. I wanted to run and check the window. What if he was outside right now? My stomach lurched.

  After all, who would see me as I saunter down your side passage, through those overgrown shrubs? Or when I vault your fragile back gate and walk past the abandoned rabbit hutch? The one you and Tilly have carved your names on . . .?

  He was describing my garden perfectly. I felt bile rising but held it back. I wanted to scream but instead I typed:

  Is there a point to these messages?

  I dunno. Let’s see what the day brings, shall we?

  What does that mean?

  Patience, Lily . . .

  I grabbed the biggest knife I could find and walked slowly towards the downstairs toilet. The door was shut. I held the knife in front of me and opened it, bracing myself for his attack. I was so petrified I thought my teeth might fall out they chattered so much.

  But nothing happened. I sighed with relief and slumped against the wall, trying not to sob.

  Later that afternoon, as I sat in the kitchen and thought about my life, my phone buzzed with a call. The incoming number wasn’t one I knew. I stared at it, unsure whether to answer it. It would be him . . .

  But he hadn’t disguised his number earlier. He didn’t seem to care if I knew it. What if this call was urgent? What if something had happened to Mum or Tilly? Or Kane . . .?

  The line buzzed and crackled and I couldn’t hear much – just a few snippets of a male voice. I ended the call, and studied the number again. As I wondered who it might be, a text came in from the same number:

  Lily – it’s Kane. My phone is playing up. This is a spare. Can you meet me outside Costa? Urgent! It’s about Tilly. Think she’s in trouble . . .

  My stomach somersaulted as I replied.

  I’m coming now. What’s going on?

  I’ll explain when you get here. Hurry, yeah?

  I ran and grabbed a jacket, just as my mum came through the door with bags of shopping.

  ‘I’m going out for a bit – to meet Kane,’ I told her. ‘Chores are all done.’

  ‘Wait!’ she asked. ‘It’s too dangerous. What if this man tries something? I want you here.’

  I felt awful for lying but I had no choice. ‘Kane’s just up the road,’ I said. ‘At Tilly’s. I’ll be fine!’

  I didn’t give her time to register my words. Instead, I rushed out and hurried to the main road, desperately worried about my best friend . . .

  The Spider brings all his pieces into play . . .

  First the anonymous tip-off. The Spider – informing on himself. A simple phone call to the investigation team, his accent disguised. He even gives his own name. Well, the name he’s been using, anyway. A man called Joseph Spinner has been seen with a young girl – several times. Their relationship is illegal. He is an adult and she is a schoolgirl – Tilly Anderson. It’s sick. Joseph Spinner’s address is . . .

  Then the Spider instructed his accomplice for the last time. Record the girl using the voice recorder function, he told the OTHER. Just the snippet of text I’ve given you. Send it to me and, afterwards, destroy the phone you use. Then wait for my arrival. Make yourself at home.

  Now, he sits in his car, some hundred metres from Lily’s home. He watches Mrs Basra drive up the road back to her house. He grabs the phone – makes his call – holds a tape recording of static to the mouthpiece. When Lily hangs up, he sends her a text.

  She replies quickly, and he responds in kind.

  Within minutes she’s hurrying up the street. She barely registers passers-by, never mind his nondescript, silver hire car. He recalls reading somewhere that the Toyota Corolla is the world’s bestselling car ever. Bestselling and least memorable, obviously.

  As the girl disappears round the corner, he picks up the second phone. He waits five minutes – then repeats his trick. This time he is the girl, texting her new boyfriend.

  Kane! It’s me – Lily! My phone is broken – using my mum’s. I need help – please! I’m at Costa. Come now – he’s after me!!!!

  The speed of Kane’s response causes the Spider to grin. Like lambs to the slaughter – another of his favourite clichés. Only, in this instance, they’re running away from the scene . . .

  Stay there – me and Alfie are coming now! If he comes near you, call for help!!

  I will – please hurry!

  Satisfied, the Spider exits his car. He strolls towards the house – checks his surroundings. The road is quiet – empty save for an old woman walking her ridiculous dog. He reaches the door – knocks – places a clown mask over his face. He waits . . .

  Laila Basra opens up, mumbling something about Lily forgetting her keys again. When she sees him, her eyes grow wide and her lips part in shock and fear. He grabs her round the mouth. She has no time to scream . . .

  38
>
  The moment I saw Kane, I burst into tears.

  ‘Where?’ he yelled. ‘Where is he?’

  I blinked at him through my tears. ‘Where’s who?’ I asked, confused and alarmed at his tone. Around us, people stopped and gawped. Some shook their heads in disgust. Alfie was in his car, parked illegally in a disabled space. He gawped at us too.

  ‘Him!’ Kane repeated. ‘The hacker! You said he was after you – in your text. I’m gonna kill him!’

  ‘Kane,’ I replied. ‘I didn’t send you a text about him. You messaged me. About Tilly?’

  Kane’s eyes lost their rage. His fists unclenched. ‘But I didn’t text you,’ he told me. ‘Lily – I didn’t. I came because you said you were in trouble.’ He showed me his phone. ‘See?’

  ‘That’s not my mum’s number,’ I whispered. ‘I didn’t send that.’

  ‘Then who . . .?’

  We stared at each other as my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, although in my heart I knew who it was.

  Hey, Lily – got your mummy here. She’s very pretty. Shall I kill her? Would you like that?

  I lost it then – dropping the phone and shrieking to myself. He was at my house. He had my mum. Had got me out of the way so he could take her. Kane picked up my phone as I doubled over. My legs felt empty, my head grew weightless. I saw flashes of light before my pupils and Max’s face in my mind. He was going to kill her too. He was going to kill my mum . . .

  ‘Come on!’ roared Kane. ‘We’ve got to help her!’ He almost lifted me off my feet and dragged me to Alfie’s car. ‘Don’t speak, bro!’ he ordered. ‘Just drive – Lily’s mum is in serious shit. Come on!’

  As Alfie screeched away, Kane shouted my address at him and then rang the number DC Evans had given us for any emergencies. In the back, I sat frozen – unable to speak or think anything beyond how much I loved my mum. How I wouldn’t be able to cope if she died . . .

  When we reached the house, I couldn’t leave the car. I wanted to, but my legs started to shake and I was blubbing. The front door was ajar, the windows thrown wide open. Heavy, dark clouds hung low in the sky, and the rain got heavier.

  Kane grabbed my hand. ‘Come on – we’ve got to get inside!’

  ‘C-can’t,’ I sobbed. ‘He’s killed her.’

  Kane pulled me out. ‘No,’ he insisted. ‘She’s fine.’

  ‘Scared!’ I wailed. ‘What if she’s dead?’

  ‘I’m with you, Lily,’ he replied. ‘Trust me . . .’

  Alfie joined us. Kane told him to hold back as he ran for the house. We followed slowly behind. I heard Kane shouting for Mum. As Alfie and I entered, he came out of the living room and went into the kitchen. He moved slowly, just in case someone was waiting. She wasn’t there, but the back door lay open, and the rain had soaked the tiles on the floor.

  ‘I’ll check upstairs,’ he said.

  We returned to the hall, and he went up slowly, careful with each step. My legs felt like dead weight – I was dragging them along. My chest was on fire and I could hear my own breath. The first floor was eerily dark for early evening, and Kane edged into the small bathroom. It was empty. Next came my room, the door partly open. Kane pushed it back on the frame, the hinges squeaking. I dreaded what we might discover inside. The contents of my belly frothed and bubbled.

  ‘Careful, bro,’ whispered Alfie.

  Outside I heard sirens wailing in the distance. The police were coming. I wanted to scream but nothing came. Silent, shivering, I watched Kane enter my bedroom. Nothing . . .

  ‘Shit!’ he said.

  Mum’s room was empty too, and the spare.

  Kane turned and looked at Alfie and me. ‘She’s not here,’ he said.

  ‘Garden?’ Alfie suggested.

  Kane led the way downstairs. Back in the kitchen, the table was a mess – one of the chairs missing. The floor was littered with broken crockery and Mum’s shopping bags lay untouched by the fridge. My belly began to cramp and my hands shook.

  ‘Wait here,’ ordered Kane, but I found my breath and refused.

  ‘No – I want to come,’ I told him.

  As the sirens drew nearer, we walked across the soaked lawn, Alfie wielding the large knife I’d used earlier and left by the sink. The shed sat against the rear fence, its door also ajar. Rain pounded its roof.

  ‘She’s in there,’ I said, as I stared at the open door. The padlock lay on the floor. ‘I just know it—’

  Kane held out his arm, stopping three metres from the entrance. ‘Me first,’ he said. ‘No arguments!’

  He moved forward, his fists clenched. Alfie had his back, the knife poised. I heard a muffled sound and knocking come from the shed.

  ‘Kane!’ I screamed.

  He reached the door, and went in. I expected to hear him cry out in pain, as he was attacked. But I was wrong. Instead, he sounded relieved.

  ‘Got her!’ he yelled, and I ran to the shed.

  Inside, my mum was tied to a chair, her mouth bound with tape. She looked scared witless. Except for her nose, I didn’t see any blood or other wounds. Her eyes were wide, her expression pleading. Kane took the knife Alfie was holding and started to cut her free. In the garden, I heard shouts.

  ‘POLICE!’

  Alfie replied, telling them where we were. Then more voices, and a dog barking.

  Kane carefully removed the tape from my mum’s mouth. She started to cry, her eyes never leaving mine. As Kane worked on her hands, secured to the chair, he turned to me.

  ‘There’s something in her hand,’ he said.

  Through the sobs, I heard Mum call out my name. Relieved that she wasn’t hurt, I felt rage build inside me – more powerful than I’d ever experienced before.

  ‘Here,’ said Kane, taking the object from my mum. ‘It’s silver . . .’

  When I saw what it was, my heart nearly stopped. It wasn’t my name she had called.

  ‘TILLY!!!!’ screamed my mum, as a police officer charged in.

  Kane held out the bracelet charm – even in the gloom I saw the inscription on it, saw the unbroken clasp. Sisters Forever . . .

  And I understood.

  39

  DI Meadows let Alfie go quickly. But Kane and me – he kept us close. He went over and over our stories, like we were the suspects. I could see Kane getting wound up, and when eventually Meadows relented, I reached across and took my boyfriend’s hand.

  ‘Thank you,’ I whispered.

  Kane nodded. We were in the kitchen, police officers searching and fingerprinting the entire house. Mum was opposite me, wrapped in a blanket, having been checked over by paramedics. The blood from her nose had been cleaned off. Bruising began to show around her right eye. DC Evans sat with her, both of them with their hands cupped around steaming mugs of tea. Despite being asked again and again, Mum couldn’t give any real description of her attacker. He’d worn a mask and had overpowered her very quickly, knocking her out cold. She’d shaken as she replayed the events in her head, and I wanted to find him and kill him for hurting her. I had never been so angry.

  I told them everything about Tilly, including the fact that she was seeing an older man in secret, and showed them all the latest messages from the hacker. DI Meadows rang someone else and they started searching for my best friend immediately.

  Meadows contacted Tilly’s mum too. I don’t know how she’d reacted but I could imagine. I felt like shit – wishing that she would come round and slap me. I had wanted to keep my best friend, so I’d hidden her secret. Now she might be gone for ever and it would be my fault. The thought ate at my insides, but I tried to stay calm. Breaking down wouldn’t change things, and I wanted to help.

  When the kitchen was clear, and the search had begun, Meadows made himself a cuppa. He sat and eyed me, his skin condition calmer than when I’d last seen him. His fudge-brown suit was creased, his red tie loosened, and he had a fat dark bags under each eye.

  ‘We had a tip-off,’ he replied. ‘Earlier this evenin
g. Someone reported seeing Tilly with an adult male. He was arrested at his flat about thirty minutes ago.’

  ‘Who is he?’ asked Mum.

  ‘I can’t say yet,’ he told us, ‘but he’s being questioned at the station.’

  ‘Was Tilly there – when you arrested him?’ I said, my hopes rising.

  ‘No,’ said Meadows, ‘I’m afraid not.’

  I looked away, fighting back tears.

  ‘Is it someone we know?’ Kane asked.

  DC Evans exchanged a glance with Meadows, and he nodded.

  ‘Yes,’ said the PC. ‘He’s someone all the victims knew.’

  Something didn’t feel right. ‘If he’s been arrested,’ I said, thinking aloud, ‘then why wasn’t Tilly with him?’

  ‘That’s something we’re trying to ascertain,’ said Meadows.

  ‘Doesn’t make sense,’ I told him. ‘Did they find any evidence in his flat?’

  The officers exchanged another look. This time the senior shook his head.

  ‘Can’t say,’ Meadows replied, but I could see that they hadn’t. His downcast expression gave him away.

  I felt useless – unable to help and just waiting on news. But that was all we had. Somewhere, someone would find Tilly, and then we’d know. Until that point, we were in limbo. Mum gave me a warm smile, but I knew I’d let her down. If I had told her about Tilly’s relationship, she would have acted. And even though Tilly would be angry – maybe never speak to me again – at least she’d have been safe. She’d be tucked up in bed, texting crap to Danny Sangha; or down in the kitchen, arguing with her mum over the length of her skirt or what time she came home. She’d be OK.

  And she wasn’t OK. She wasn’t safe. That’s why he’d left the charm. It was a message. It was a boast about how clever he’d been – sending us one way, whilst he went the other. He was telling me that he had taken her. Just like he had taken the others. And there was nothing I could do about it . . .

  DI Meadows left an hour later, and agreed to drop Kane at home. DC Evans was given babysitting duties over Mum and me. She looked less than pleased but had no choice.

  ‘I think we’re stretched over this,’ she explained, once her boss had gone.