Son of a Serial Killer by Jams N. Roses Page B

murderer of two teenagers? Was this the same man who had been randomly taking lives for the last eight years?
    She took out her phone and called Kite.
    ‘Yes, boss,’ he answered.
    Kite was at the video surveillance centre, going through the digital surveillance data from around the time of yesterday's crime.
    ‘I need to know what is on the camera that covers the bridge,’ she said, impatiently.
    ‘ We're just going through it now,’ he replied.
    ‘ No, Kite, I mean now. There was a guy on the bridge just one minute ago and I need to know if we got him on tape,’ she said.
    Kite passed on the request to the technician he was working with, only for the man to shrug his shoulders, shake his head and give the bad news. Apparently, the problem when using the system for playback is that they were interrupting the recording schedule, therefore, no longer recording.
    Summers heard the explanation over the phone and hung up.
    ‘Shit.’
    She looked up and down the road, hoping, but there was nothing to look at, not even many cars at this time of day.
    Had she just let slip a cold-blooded killer?
    By now, Ben was a good half-mile away, breathing heavily after his impromptu run. He cursed himself for being stupid enough to go back to the crime scene, and promised that would be the last time he acted so ridiculously dumb.
    Startling him, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Thankfully, it was Eve saying her seminar had been cancelled due to a lack of turnout; she was home and invited him back to her place. She wanted his company.
    ‘ Back to the safe-haven?’ he asked himself.
    H e could think of no place better to go.

22
    Summers had just sat down behind her desk when her phone rang. Kite walked into the office carrying two coffees, as per usual, when she answered the call from her boss, wanting them both in his office straight away for an update.
    Withi n seconds, Summers and Kite were sat before their superior. He looked at them both gloomily, obviously feeling the pressure which recent events had put upon them all, as happened every time The Phantom made an appearance.
    ‘ So what have you got for me?’ asked Watts.
    Summers briefly glanced towards Kite, noticing a cocky glint in Kites eyes, meaning, 'go ahead boss, you can explain where we are. This is your party.'
    She sat upright and prepared to update Watts on proceedings.
    ‘Well, sir,’ she said, ‘with regards to the double homicide yesterday, under the bridge at Old Town Road, in all honesty, we don't have much to go on.’
    Watts looked suitably unimpressed.
    ‘Preliminary reports from the morgue indicate no sexual abuse on either of the victims. We are waiting for toxicology reports to confirm if they were high or drunk at the time.’
    ‘ And that will serve what purpose?’ interrupted Watts.
    Summers didn't have an answer.
    ‘Go on,’ said Watts.
    ‘ The boy, Ricky Robinson, had twenty pounds in his pocket, which would indicate it wasn't a robbery,’ she continued, ‘and as far as we understand, nobody knew they were there, so we don't think it was premeditated.’
    Watts sat up in his seat.
    ‘There is a chance that a jealous ex-lover of the girl, perhaps stumbled across them, had a row with Robinson and things turned nasty,’ interjected Kite, ‘but Mrs White, the girl's mother, was adamant her daughter had never had a boyfriend before.’
    Summers frowned at Kite's extraordinarily useless input. She wondered if his need to speak up in front of superiors was a play for promotion or if he just wanted to remind them both that he was there. That said, credit where credit is due, he took a gamble by agreeing to join her on The Phantom case, no good detective likes an 'unsolved' on their cv, and there was certainly a good chance of that becoming a reality.
    ‘ So tell me,’ said Watts, clearly directing the question to Summers, ‘why did you tell me on the phone, that you don't believe this to be our guy, The Phantom?’
    Summers took a deep