God or The Devil? Choose Your Weapon

Chapter 1

Police Officer Karen Steele sits in the darkness staring at the rain.  She can barely see a thing out the windscreen of the parked car in the crescent where she lives.  The day had been a long and depressing one.  Then to top it this storm had to unexpectedly come along and crap on the end of it.  It is pelting down with a viciousness that makes her think twice about venturing out.  This is not a case of trying to keep her hair dry; it was a case of fearing that she might be swept away and never seen again.  Making it to her house seems like a task of substance.  The storm doesn’t look keen to give it a rest anytime soon, so waiting it out doesn’t seem like a plausible option.  The wind was really howling and pushing the rain hard. 

She doesn’t have much of a choice.  Now or later made little difference.  If she had to run for it then she had to run for it.  She reaches for the door handle. 

A light flickers into being in the distant darkness on her left.  Then it went out.  Then on again.  It flashes a few times to catch her attention.

She lets go of the door handle and rests back into her seat.

Karen tries to peer through the rain sloshed passenger window.  The light stops flickering and becomes solid.  The outline of a man can be seen standing in the hallway light of the house.  He is watching her through the large glass pane on the front door.

Raymond Woodshank, her near neighbour, waves at her.  He gave off a creepy vibe to her.  Nothing she could put her finger on.  The best she could articulate it was that he seemed maybe a little too perfect to be true.  Too handsome, too well groomed and too well mannered.  He never seemed to put a foot wrong.  His etiquette was impeccable.  In all the months she had known him he hadn’t once said anything stupid or uninformed.  Or even tripped on a loose slab or something.  He was in total control of his surroundings with an air of detached entitlement.  He was just too slick to be for real.  There was something posed and stylised about him that negated reality.

True, she had never spent any real amount of time around him.  He flirted a little with her whenever they met outside their houses.  She picked up a genuine sexual tension between them, but she didn’t trust his gleaming surface.  So she kept her distance.  He never did anything suspicious or showed her an uncomfortable amount of attention.  He simply seemed to quite like her without making any effort to push things along beyond a few minutes of idle banter on his front steps.  It wasn’t like he was always there whenever she left the house, or he would always come out to help take shopping bags out her car.

Yet somehow this nice, polite neighbour gave her a creepy vibe.  Her watch words when dealing with him were to keep her distance and always keep an eye on him.

At this moment in time there was no harm in waving back.  So she did.

He drops his hand after she waves back at him.

There was movement from inside the hall as he put on a waterproof jacket.  Was he coming out to collect her?

The front door opens and he runs over to the car.  The rain stabs down at him and the wind drives it in.  When he reaches the car he raps his fingers on the passenger window while holding down his hood with his other hand.  He opens the unlocked door and gets into the car as quickly as possible.  He slams the door shut against the rain.  He brought plenty of it in with him.  ‘Sorry about that,’ he says as he feels the puddle he’s creating on her passenger seat.  ‘Boy, it’s raining cats and dogs tonight,’ he adds with no imagination for better wordplay.

‘It sure is,’ she replies with no more imagination than he had.

‘I brought you this.’  From under his jacket he pulls out another raincoat.

‘That’s awfully kind of you.’

‘No problem.’  He looks out at the general area where her house should be before them.  Not that he could see it in this darkness and through this terrible weather.  ‘You going to make a run for your house?’

‘That’s the idea.’

‘Well I’m just offering.  I understand if you don’t want to.  But my house is closer.  I’m not trying to...you know.  I’m just offering a closer place to shelter for a few hours until the storm passes.  If you’re interested?’

She is of course wary, but it was not like she has any genuine reason to mistrust him beyond a vague gut feeling.  She pauses for a moment to weigh up the likely possibility that he wants to wear her skin like a dress.

He picks up on the hesitancy.  ‘I understand.  You can return the coat later.  I only need the one.’

‘No.  It’s nice of you to offer.  I was just thinking about my cat.  She can wait a few more hours.’

She decides to take a chance on him on the grounds that she had seen many women enter and many women leave his house.  As a bachelor he had a few girls on the go.  All seemingly one night stands.  If he was killing some of them then he was sure letting a lot go.  His self-control, or pickiness, should work in her favour she decides.  He couldn’t possibly be deranged enough to kill his near neighbour.  He was too smart and calculating to do something stupid like that.

‘Great.  Follow me.  No point waiting as it’s not going to get much better any time soon.’  He hands the jacket over to her and she awkwardly puts it on over her police uniform and jacket.  The stab proof vest is sadly in the trunk.  She would have liked to have modelled that little number when in his house.

They make a dash for it.  The jacket he gave her is flimsy and the Velcro on the hood is no match for the determined wind.  By the time they reached his front door she is drenched.

He lets her in.  As he takes off his coat he gives her a look up and down.  ‘I’m sorry.  That coat was really not up to the job.’

‘It’s okay.  It was better than nothing.’  She takes the borrowed waterproof coat off, followed by her own jacket.  Holding both at arm’s length she hangs them on the pegs mounted on the wall.  He puts his soaked coat beside her jacket.  ‘Shouldn’t you put papers under them?’ she asks as she watches the rainwater drip down them onto the bare floor.

‘Yes.  Just a minute.’  He kicks off his shoes and walks into the kitchen.  She unlaces her sensible flat shoes and puts them aside.  He returns with a newspaper under his arm.  ‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he says as he starts to put the pages under the drips.

Karen wanders into the kitchen and sees an electronic keyboard sitting on the dining table.  She calls out to him, ‘I’ve never been in your house before.’

Raymond comes into the room after her.  ‘Well I’ve tried to lure you in but you’ve always got somewhere to be or someone to meet.  I was serious you know.  I can cook a pretty competent meal.’

Ignoring that comment she points to the keyboard.  ‘Can you play?’

‘That?  If only.  It’s academic anyway as I can’t find the power cord.  And I’m not buying eight exotic batteries to find out what I already know.  I can’t play a lick.’

Karen pulls out the table chair in front of it and sits down at it.  She puts her fingers from both hands on the keys and starts to play it.  The soft sound of the keys being pressed and released are all the sounds she makes.

‘Can you play?’ he asks.

‘A little.  I can play a few tunes.  To a very basic level.  I can do some Christmas carols for family get togethers.  Nothing more than that.’

He leans in beside her and gets his eyes closer to the keyboard.  ‘Still I’m very impressed.  For all I know you’re pulling my leg and you’re just pressing random buttons.  But it looks very convincing.  What are you playing?’

‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’

‘Really?  Are you playing it good or very badly?’

‘Since you can’t contradict me and have an opinion of your own, I’m going to say I’m doing not bad considering how rusty I am.  I haven’t played a piano in about six months.’

He straightens up as he says, ‘You should have kept at it more.  It’s good to have a talent for something.’

‘Despite what my music teacher said, I peaked early.  This is my natural level.  I wasn’t motivated enough to get to the next stage.  I’m mediocre and I accept it.’  She stops playing and looks with dismay at the keys.  They had become wet from her drenched skin.  She takes her hands away and puts them against her stomach.  Two little puddles have been left on the table from where her wrists had been.  ‘I’m so sorry about the mess.’

‘Don’t be.  Tell you what.  This might sound weird but I’ve got some women’s clothes in my walk-in closet.  They’re not mine.  I’ll get you something to wear and you can go into the bathroom and dry yourself off.’

‘That’s kind of you.’  It was kind and only slightly very creepy sounding.

‘That’s what neighbours are for.’

She gets up from the table and he takes her to the bathroom.  It is the room directly opposite the front door.

She goes in and closes the door on him.  He stands outside and says through it, ‘Actually, I’ll get the clothes from my next door neighbour.’

‘You don’t need to do that.’

‘It’s okay.  It’s better this way.  The stuff I’ve got isn’t very good.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

‘I don’t want to bother you.’

‘It’s not a bother.’

‘Okay then.’  If he was going to leave her alone for a few minutes then that was fine with her.  She looked