London Calling

Beneath the febrile coverage of the build up to the Olympics later this month, and the ongoing violence on the streets, there have been spreading reports of a supernatural leaping monster terrorising people in the alleyways and parks of the capital.

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Detective Leigh leaned back heavily in his chair. Unlit cigarette rolling between his forefingers, he stared up at the evidence board and willed the pieces to come to him. It was all in there. Somewhere. He could feel it, it just needed to fall into place. Too many agendas, too many motives, all piled up against eachother. The Red Barn case had been so much clearer, the threads had presented themselves and he had been able to pull on them until something unraveled. This was different somehow.

Slotting the cigarette back into its box, he let out a sigh, stood from his desk, and began pacing. It had all started in Wandsworth— that was significant, it had to be. But all the ground work he had tried to establish in the area was being roadblocked by OIS. That had to be significant too. The timing felt significant as well, that was the one thing all the coverage seemed to agree on. Everything kicking off while the eyes of the world were on London— that couldn't be a coincidence. The question was why. That was the piece that was missing, and everyone and their mother had their own crackpot pitch for what it was.

He was missing something, and it would eat away at him until he could see the shape of what it was. He knew what he was going to have to try next. He wasn't happy about it, but when the threads had exhausted themself in real life, there wasn't much choice in the matter. He shrugged on his overcoat, locked up his office, and made for the computer lab.

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