Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Game of Revenge ❯ Chapter 14
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Jack sat in front of the new stack of papers that now cluttered his desk. They had found four new bodies over the past week, all with similar knife wounds as Allison's, and all with a single bullet hole creating a window to their brains. He had been out of his office a lot over that time, tracing paths through the city, mapping the locations of where each new victim had been found, walking the distance between them, trying to find a pattern. He was now comparing his findings to older data, the reports on Kyle Tompson's movements prior to that horrid night when Eddie had been killed. They were close, very close. It had to be him, there was no other way. Jack picked up the phone and called down to Russell.
“O'Neil? It's Jack. Get up here, I've got something.”
Russell was there fast, and he burst through the door, chest heaving, having evidently run up all four flights of stairs from the lab.
“What is it?” he managed to gasp out.
“It's him, Russell, he's doing it.”
“Who? Who is, Jack? I need a name.”
“Kyle Tompson. It has to be him.”
Russell stared at Jack for a few moments. Jack stared back, unfazed.
“Jack… you're just saying that. It can't possibly be him. We've had men on the lookout for him and no one has seen hair no hide since October.”
“I know it's him Russell, look at the pattern. It follows the one that's in his petty theft records. He's just escaladed to murder now. There's no other solution.”
“You only see that because you've been looking at those old files day and night! You're obsessed Jack! I know that Edward's death has upset you, it upset a lot of us, he was a great detective, but this is ridiculous! Give it up, Jack. There's nothing more for you to do.”
Anger flared in Jack's eyes. “How dare you suggest that I made this up? It's right there on the paper, I've tested it, and it all works!”
“Because you want it to work!”
“You're wrong. I know exactly what I'm doing. I've proven that Tompson's been killing these people. Are you going to ignore me? Is that it?”
“No, Jack. I think you're too involved in this. You haven't been home for ages, you've been drinking; all you do is search through those damn case files that no one really put any thought into writing! They're probably riddled with errors and now you're making wild accusations based on nothing but these scribbled half-truths!” Russell was shouting by now, his face red. Jack sat perfectly still, eyes blazing.
“You're a fool, Russell. You'll see. I will catch him and then you will be sorry that you ever doubted me.”
Russell snarled, but said nothing and then stormed out of Jack's office, slamming the door so that a small whirlwind picked up a few loose leaflets on the floor and whisked them a few inches off their previous position. Jack felt the silence begin to press in upon him, but his glare continued to burn a hole in the door the new police Sergeant had just shut.
He doesn't see it… Tompson's trying to get to me. First Allison, then the others. He's taunting me, that little shit is. I don't care what Russell says. I haven't even been drinking that much, just a bit more than usual, not that he hasn't ever had more, the great Irish prick. He's a fool. He doesn't even care about Edward. He just cares about moving up the ladder. But he'll see I'm right. Fool. He'll see. I'll get him.