While Martin trawled the connections between the two
victims, looking for clues as to who the sword-wielding woman could be
targeting next, Electron set about patrolling the area near where she had last
been seen. Worryingly, however, she appeared to have evaded the police
blockades and escaped into the wider city. He flew back and forth,
investigating several potential sightings, but found nothing save a used smoke
bomb.
"I think our theory was right," he told Martin. "Whoever this woman is, she's only targeting specific people, and refusing to harm anyone else. She could have violently confronted me, the police, or both, but instead she's chosen to just evade us. I think it might be possible to capture her alive." Martin did not respond. "Hello? Martin? Are you there?"
Eventually a voice responded, but it was a woman. "I'm sorry," she said, "Martin isn't at his desk right now. He's away pursuing some kind of lead. I don't know when he'll be back."
"I see," said Electron. "Well, when he gets back, could you tell him I'm going to try and catch this sword-wielding murderer alive, without a struggle?"
The woman barely stifled a chuckle. "You make it sound so easy," she said. "But then, I guess it would be for you. Alright, I'll tell him. Good luck, Electron."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Electron. "Over and out." Electron hung up and headed back into the sky, resuming his search.
By the time he heard from Martin, it was late afternoon and the sin was beginning to sink low on the sky. There was still no trace of the woman. "Electron," said Martin. "You there? You manage to track her down?"
"No, I'm afraid not," said Electron. "I don't know where she is, but I do have a feeling that-"
"Yeah, I heard about your theory," said Martin impatiently. "Listen, 'coz I got something more than theories. I know who she is, and more importantly, I know who her other targets are."
"You do?" said Electron. "That's great! Who are they, then?"
"Their names are Matt Tyler and Andy Smith," said Martin. "They were both friends with John Baxter and Kevin McAllister. Matt lives at Newport House, Room 307, while Andy lives at 156 Coolidge Avenue."
"Alright, thank you," said Electron. "Do you know why this woman is after them?"
"I do," said Martin, "but you're not gonna like it."
"Hit me with it," said Electron. "If I can understand why she's doing this, maybe I can talk her out of it."
"Alright," said Martin. "Three weeks ago, John, Kevin, Matt, and Andy allegedly beat a black man into a coma. His name was Thomas Dailly, and five days ago he passed away in hospital. His wife, Jasmine, apparently hasn't been seen since. The case was never brought to trial due to lack of evidence, despite there being at least one witness to the assault. And here's the kicker: Thomas and Jasmine are both metalworkers. She could easily have forged the swords and the armour herself."
"I see," said Electron. "So, we're trying to save a bunch of presumably racist murderers." He suddenly recalled the Confederate flag that had been hanging in Kevin's house.
"Believe me," said Martin, "I'm even less happy about it than you are. But leaving these people to die would just make us as bad as her. If they really did kill Thomas Dailly, then they deserve to face justice for it. What Jasmine's doing ain't justice."
"I agree," said Electron. "Which one of them's the closest to where Kevin was murdered?"
"That'd be Matt," said Martin. "Newport House, Room 307. It's only about a mile from your current location."
"I'll be there as fast as I can," said Electron. "Hopefully I can get to him before Jasmine does."
"Let's hope so," said Martin. "Let me know either way. Good luck, man."
"Okay, see you." Electron hung up, and immediately flew off in the direction of Newport House, an eighteen-storey apartment complex near the downtown area. The journey took barely a minute, but it seemed he was already too late, as a shocked crowd was gathered around the open door to Room 307. They turned to him with sorrowful looks as he landed outside the door.
"It happened just a few minutes ago," one of them told him. "The Iron Maiden showed up at the complex, some of us came out to try and stop her, but-"
"The Iron Maiden?" repeated Electron, bemused.
"That's what they're calling her on the Internet," said the man. "You know, that masked killer."
"I tried to stop her," said a Hispanic woman, "but she just knocked me aside and-"
Electron placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, giving her a comforting look. "It's okay," he said. "You all did your best. I appreciate your efforts. But, I'm guessing that-"
A third man nodded. "Yeah," he said. "He's dead. We're sorry."
Electron shook his head. "I'm the one who should be sorry," he said. "It's my job to save people, and I just wasn't fast enough this time. But I know where she's going to strike next, and believe me, this time I'm going to stop her. Which way did she go?"
"That direction," said the Hispanic woman. She and about three others all pointed to the west.
"Okay, thank you," said Electron. "I'll stop her this time for sure. Everybody stand back, please." The crowd duly stepped back a few paces, and Electron lifted off into the sky, racing off in the direction of Coolidge Avenue. "I was too late to save Matt," he told Martin, "he's dead. I'm on my way over to Andy, there's no way she can be at his house already. When she gets there, I'll stop her."
"This might be your last shot at catching her," said Martin, "so make it count. Good luck, man."
"Thanks, Martin," said Electron. "This city is counting on me to stop her, and I'm not gonna let them down. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. See ya."
As Electron hung up, he could see Coolidge Avenue approaching fast in the distance. Martin was right: if Jasmine succeeded in killing Andy, not only would her husband never receive justice, but she could well drop off the grid afterwards, never to be seen again. Whatever happened, he had to stop her here.
"I think our theory was right," he told Martin. "Whoever this woman is, she's only targeting specific people, and refusing to harm anyone else. She could have violently confronted me, the police, or both, but instead she's chosen to just evade us. I think it might be possible to capture her alive." Martin did not respond. "Hello? Martin? Are you there?"
Eventually a voice responded, but it was a woman. "I'm sorry," she said, "Martin isn't at his desk right now. He's away pursuing some kind of lead. I don't know when he'll be back."
"I see," said Electron. "Well, when he gets back, could you tell him I'm going to try and catch this sword-wielding murderer alive, without a struggle?"
The woman barely stifled a chuckle. "You make it sound so easy," she said. "But then, I guess it would be for you. Alright, I'll tell him. Good luck, Electron."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Electron. "Over and out." Electron hung up and headed back into the sky, resuming his search.
By the time he heard from Martin, it was late afternoon and the sin was beginning to sink low on the sky. There was still no trace of the woman. "Electron," said Martin. "You there? You manage to track her down?"
"No, I'm afraid not," said Electron. "I don't know where she is, but I do have a feeling that-"
"Yeah, I heard about your theory," said Martin impatiently. "Listen, 'coz I got something more than theories. I know who she is, and more importantly, I know who her other targets are."
"You do?" said Electron. "That's great! Who are they, then?"
"Their names are Matt Tyler and Andy Smith," said Martin. "They were both friends with John Baxter and Kevin McAllister. Matt lives at Newport House, Room 307, while Andy lives at 156 Coolidge Avenue."
"Alright, thank you," said Electron. "Do you know why this woman is after them?"
"I do," said Martin, "but you're not gonna like it."
"Hit me with it," said Electron. "If I can understand why she's doing this, maybe I can talk her out of it."
"Alright," said Martin. "Three weeks ago, John, Kevin, Matt, and Andy allegedly beat a black man into a coma. His name was Thomas Dailly, and five days ago he passed away in hospital. His wife, Jasmine, apparently hasn't been seen since. The case was never brought to trial due to lack of evidence, despite there being at least one witness to the assault. And here's the kicker: Thomas and Jasmine are both metalworkers. She could easily have forged the swords and the armour herself."
"I see," said Electron. "So, we're trying to save a bunch of presumably racist murderers." He suddenly recalled the Confederate flag that had been hanging in Kevin's house.
"Believe me," said Martin, "I'm even less happy about it than you are. But leaving these people to die would just make us as bad as her. If they really did kill Thomas Dailly, then they deserve to face justice for it. What Jasmine's doing ain't justice."
"I agree," said Electron. "Which one of them's the closest to where Kevin was murdered?"
"That'd be Matt," said Martin. "Newport House, Room 307. It's only about a mile from your current location."
"I'll be there as fast as I can," said Electron. "Hopefully I can get to him before Jasmine does."
"Let's hope so," said Martin. "Let me know either way. Good luck, man."
"Okay, see you." Electron hung up, and immediately flew off in the direction of Newport House, an eighteen-storey apartment complex near the downtown area. The journey took barely a minute, but it seemed he was already too late, as a shocked crowd was gathered around the open door to Room 307. They turned to him with sorrowful looks as he landed outside the door.
"It happened just a few minutes ago," one of them told him. "The Iron Maiden showed up at the complex, some of us came out to try and stop her, but-"
"The Iron Maiden?" repeated Electron, bemused.
"That's what they're calling her on the Internet," said the man. "You know, that masked killer."
"I tried to stop her," said a Hispanic woman, "but she just knocked me aside and-"
Electron placed a hand on the woman's shoulder, giving her a comforting look. "It's okay," he said. "You all did your best. I appreciate your efforts. But, I'm guessing that-"
A third man nodded. "Yeah," he said. "He's dead. We're sorry."
Electron shook his head. "I'm the one who should be sorry," he said. "It's my job to save people, and I just wasn't fast enough this time. But I know where she's going to strike next, and believe me, this time I'm going to stop her. Which way did she go?"
"That direction," said the Hispanic woman. She and about three others all pointed to the west.
"Okay, thank you," said Electron. "I'll stop her this time for sure. Everybody stand back, please." The crowd duly stepped back a few paces, and Electron lifted off into the sky, racing off in the direction of Coolidge Avenue. "I was too late to save Matt," he told Martin, "he's dead. I'm on my way over to Andy, there's no way she can be at his house already. When she gets there, I'll stop her."
"This might be your last shot at catching her," said Martin, "so make it count. Good luck, man."
"Thanks, Martin," said Electron. "This city is counting on me to stop her, and I'm not gonna let them down. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. See ya."
As Electron hung up, he could see Coolidge Avenue approaching fast in the distance. Martin was right: if Jasmine succeeded in killing Andy, not only would her husband never receive justice, but she could well drop off the grid afterwards, never to be seen again. Whatever happened, he had to stop her here.
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