Spider's Web by Ben Cheetham Read Free Book Online Page B

handed her his card. ‘If you happen to find anything out, call me straight away.’
    ‘I will.’
    ‘I mean it, Anna. Straight away,’ stressed Jim. ‘The same goes if anyone contacts you about the list. Don’t try to deal with it on your own. These are extremely dangerous people.’
    Something about Jim’s tone reminded Anna of her dad. After Jessica’s abduction, Rick Young had become so smotheringly protective he’d barely been able to let Anna out of his sight. Even when she was at school, he’d phoned to check up on her dozens of times a day. In the end, she’d had to threaten to leave home unless he gave her some space. She held in a sigh. ‘You’ve read my blog, right? So you know about the type of people I’ve gone up against – rapists, abusers, murderers.’
    ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to patronise you, it’s just that…’ Jim trailed off, his eyes growing distant. In his mind, he saw Margaret – the torn tights, the knife in her chest, the bloody voids where her eyes had been. After her death, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t risk any lives other than his own. And yet here he was, doing just the opposite. ‘I don’t want to be responsible for you getting hurt.’
    ‘You’re not going to be, no matter what happens. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve got other copies of the photos of Villiers.’ Anna took out her phone and showed Jim the photos. ‘I’d have put them online as soon as I worked out who the fucker was. And then I would’ve drawn fire just the same, but without you backing me up.’
    Jim’s expression relaxed a little. Anna wasn’t Margaret. She knew exactly what she was getting into. He held out his hand. She shook it, sank the remainder of her pint and stood up. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
    During the walk home, Anna spotted a roller door. On impulse, she tried the key in it. The lock didn’t turn. She stared at the key as if it was taunting her. Was it possible? Might this key have once been attached to the red devil keyring? The link was tenuous, if not existent only in her mind. She knew that, and yet for the first time in years she felt a fresh swell of motivation. ‘I’m going to find out where you fit, you little bastard,’ she told the key. Then she continued on her way, eyeballing every garage she passed.
    The graveyard was locked up for the night. Jim squeezed through a gap in the railings and traversed the ranks of graves, until he came to a grey marble headstone inscribed with simply ‘MARGARET HARRIS. 1957–2012. ALWAYS MISSED’. Harris. Jim had never got used to seeing her called by her maiden name. She’d always be Margaret Monahan to him.
    ‘Hello, love,’ he said, stooping to clear away the few leaves and weeds that had gathered on the grave since his previous visit. He was silent a long moment, head bowed as if in thought, before continuing, ‘I’ve done something. I don’t know if it’s the right thing. You’d know. You always knew…’ He faded off into another extended silence.
    He kissed his fingers and touched them to the headstone. ‘I’ll see you again soon, love.’ Slowly, he stood. Slowly, he walked away.

3
    Jim was woken by a knock at the door. It was a familiar kind of knock – one that demanded to be answered. The thought came to him at once: Anna’s done it, she’s published the list! Pulling on his dressing-gown, he hurried through to the spare bedroom of the flat he’d moved into several months after Margaret’s death – he’d tried to remain in the house, but the place was haunted by too many memories, too many nightmares. The knock came again as he booted up his PC. ‘Alright, hold your horses. I’ll be there in a minute,’ he shouted, navigating to Anna’s blog. He wanted to know what he was about to open the door to – if the list had been published, it was most likely Garrett come to give him the hairdryer treatment.
    ‘ The high-society paedophile ring the authorities don’t want us to know