A Room Full of Killers - Michael Wood (motivational books to read txt) 📗

A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead and a bead slid down the side of his face.

‘She hit an inmate,’ he blurted out.

Sian and Rory exchanged glances.

‘She was provoked. I believe her. Look, you don’t know what it’s like working in here. It’s like a pressure cooker. They may be young lads but they’re vicious bastards. They’ve got tempers. They’ve vindictive. Once they find your weak spot they’ll press it and press it until you explode. That’s what Elly did.’

‘Who did she hit?’ Rory asked.

‘Jacob Brown.’

‘So, on one hand we’ve got some members of staff saying everyone gets on and everything is happy and normal. Then on the other hand it’s a pressure cooker and people are on the verge of snapping on a daily basis.’

Matilda was sitting in the boardroom of Starling House listening to the report from Sian and Rory about the staff they interviewed.

‘It sounds to me like the staff are as unreliable as the inmates,’ Rory said.

‘I think you might be right there. I’ve thought Kate Moloney was hiding something from the moment I saw her. She’s obviously keeping this Elly Caine woman to herself. I’m guessing Kate didn’t give you her file?’

‘No,’ Sian replied. ‘She only gave me the files on the current staff. None for the ones who no longer work here.’

‘Right, go back to her and ask for all the files. Every single one of them. And find out where this Elly Caine is.’

‘Will do.’

‘Bloody hell, Sian,’ Matilda sat back in her chair, exasperated. ‘I’m really missing your chocolate drawer.’

TWENTY-FIVE

Pat Campbell was in her element. She rarely got the chance to drive these days. Anton said he didn’t trust her behind the wheel as she was too impatient with other road users. However, on this occasion, Pat was driving while Anton studied the copy of Thomas Hartley’s file that Matilda had given her. They were on their way to Manchester, ostensibly to do a bit of shopping and have a bite to eat (that’s what they’d told their son), but really to track down some people Thomas Hartley knew and find out if he really was capable of butchering his entire family.

‘It says here that Daniel Hartley was very vociferous about migrants coming to live in Manchester … ’

‘Does it actually say vociferous?’ Pat interrupted.

‘No it says vocal.’

‘Then say vocal then. Don’t be so bloody pretentious.’

‘Either way he was very outspoken when it came to foreigners entering the country. He attended rallies and protests and was arrested twice. Maybe that got him killed.’

Anton Campbell was a retired university lecturer. He had spent the majority of his career teaching physics at the University of Sheffield. As much as he enjoyed his job, the constant budget cuts, red tape, and bureaucracy sucked out all his love for the profession, and he took early retirement when Pat did. He was a tall man in his mid-sixties with a full head of brown wavy hair with just a hint of silver. He was active and went swimming most days. He loved a puzzle and was often engrossed in a crossword. When Pat had told him about the Thomas Hartley mystery, he jumped at the chance to become an amateur sleuth.

‘Was he a racist?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Anton said, scanning the various statements in the folder. ‘He’s quoted in the Manchester Evening News as saying he doesn’t mind foreigners coming into England, providing they come here to work, speak English, and not sponge off our NHS and benefits. Is that racist?’

‘Who knows today? It sounds like he’s standing up for his beliefs.’

‘People do get killed for their beliefs.’

‘Yes, but they’re usually political leaders and heads of state – not … what was it Daniel did for a living?’

‘He was a rep for a confectionery company.’

‘There you are then.’

‘We all have to start somewhere. Do you think Saddam Hussein left college and applied for a job as a dictator?’

‘So what are you saying: Daniel Hartley sold fun-size bags of Maltesers by day and was a Nazi sympathizer by night?’

Anton thought for a second. ‘It’s possible.’

‘No. If someone killed him because of his beliefs he would have been shot in his car or beaten to death on his way home at night. He, his wife, and his eight-year-old daughter were literally hacked to death. The killer knew them and wanted them all to suffer. He, for arguments sake let’s call the killer a he, hated the Hartleys so much that he wanted to obliterate them.’

‘So it’s a personal crime then?’

‘Exactly.’

‘So why not kill Thomas too?’

‘I’m not sure. Hang on, doesn’t it say in the file that Ruby used to go to her parents’ bed when she couldn’t sleep?’

‘Yes.’

‘Maybe the parents were just the target. The killer got into the house, went to kill Daniel and Laura, found Ruby in bed with them and killed her too.’

‘Again, why not Thomas?’

‘Because their argument wasn’t with the children.’

‘But if you’ve just killed an eight-year-old girl you’re not going to have any qualms over killing a fourteen-year-old boy.’

‘Anton, look … oh we’re here.’ Pat was pleased they had arrived at their destination as she had no idea how she was going to finish that sentence.

Anton had raised an interesting question: when you’re killing an entire family, why leave one person behind? If the killer was known to the Hartleys then he would have known how many people were in the house. It wouldn’t have taken long to find Thomas and kill him like he just killed his father, mother, and sister. Another question: how had Thomas managed to sleep through an entire massacre? She knew teenagers enjoyed their sleep, but a mass murder would wake them up, surely.

Pat was beginning to have doubts about Matilda’s theory. Yes, she saw a timid and frightened young boy in Starling House, but maybe he was finally sorry for what he had done. Or, maybe he was a very talented actor.

TWENTY-SIX

Faith and Scott were sitting in a coffee shop close to Norwich Crown Court at Bishopgate.