[ WP ] A cat and mouse chase where the good guy and the bad guy never meet face to face

He'd been here. In this very room, and Harrison knew it. Too often Harrison would arrive, a smell of metal in the air from the blood soaked walls, just too late. She'd be dead and he'd be gone. Her body covered in bite marks. 
 But Harrison was here in this room, and he knew who he'd been chasing for three years, his white whale, had been here, without the smell of metal in the air. There was no blood here, for there was no victim. There was no victim because this was the killer's home, where he lived, and planned and plotted and prepared his sickening, haunting acts, acts that have stayed with Harrison for over three years, three years of horror and hurt and turmoil which cost Harrison his job. 
 
 So here was Harrison. Alone, out of his depths and frankly a little afraid. No back-up, no badge, no gun, not a good combination when in a serial killer's house. But he did n't care. He was excited, giddy almost, maybe even slightly euphoric that he, and he alone, had found this place. A dank, dirty hovel, poorly lit, photos of his victims on the wall. All young girls with chunks of flesh missing. The only furniture was a fridge which Harrison dare n't look in. And a table, upon which sat a phone. An old fashioned rotary phone. And as soon as Harrison noticed it, it began to ring. 
 
 Harrison held the receiver to his ear, but did n't speak. 
 `` Is that Harrison?'' The ringer asked. 
 Before answering `` Yes'' Harrison swallowed. 
 
 `` Oh...'' the voice was almost dejected. `` You found me.'' 
 Harrison looked round the apartment. 
 `` Not quite.'' 
 The voice chuckled a hearty chuckle. 
 
 `` Oh that's right, I'm sorry my friend, I've just popped out for some dinner.'' He said it so coldly that it froze Harrison's blood. 
 Harrison stammered. 
 
 `` Tell me Harrison, do you recognise my voice? Because I recognise yours.'' Harrison snapped back, got his head in the game. 
 
 `` Not yet, but I'll know all about you soon enough. As soon as this trace is done.'' Harrison lied and in response the voice erupted in laughter, mocking Harrison. 
 
 `` Ah you're running a trace are you? Are you attempting to lure me into conversation to keep me on the line?'' 
 
 `` Yes we are running a trace. And you're keeping yourself on the line.'' 
 
 `` Oh you are indeed running a trace are you? Tell me about it. And tell me about this'we' you so keenly refer to.'' Harrison tensed his back, an involuntary reflex everytime he was caught in a lie. The voice was relentless and carried on. `` You and your friends at the department are tracing this call? But wait that cant be right, you were disgraced and fired last year. Yes, that's right.'' The voice mused, playing with Harrison. 
 Harrison's throat closed. 
 
 `` You know, I've been waiting for this bitch to turn up for a couple of hours now, and male meat is n't really my taste, but seeing as some kindly walked itself into my home, I might just come home... Would you like that Harrison?'' 
 
 Harrison was outside before the receiver hit the floor.
