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

was the first because his surname began with ‘A’ and the killer was working in alphabetical order. The other boys at Starling House were also potential victims, and as there was no evidence of a break-in the only possible killer had to be a member of staff.

Matilda ran into the hall and searched through her bag. She pulled a dog-eared notepad and quickly flicked through the pages until she found what she was looking for:

Ryan Asher.

Jacob Brown.

Lewis Chapman.

Thomas Hartley.

Craig Hodge.

Lee Marriott.

Callum Nixon.

Mark Parker.

They were the boys currently residing at Starling House. Eight inmates. Eight killers. One was already dead, and Thomas Hartley was in the top half of the list.

THIRTY-TWO

Matilda had briefly nodded off around four o’clock. Two hours later and a passer-by with a barking dog woke her up. She had fallen asleep on the sofa in an uncomfortable position. Now her neck ached; her legs were cold; her back was stiff and her eyes were heavy. She’d taken two sleeping tablets the night before and only managed two hours’ sleep. Her body was screaming to return to the comfort of her double bed and spend the rest of the day catching up on much needed sleep. However, her mind wasn’t prepared to listen to her body. It was chock-full of theories about a potential serial killer bumping off convicted killers in a secure unit for young offenders. Sleep would have to wait. So would the treadmill.

A quick shower while the coffee was brewing and bread was toasting. She ran downstairs and ate the toast at speed, tearing off large bites while she poured the strongest black coffee she could stomach into a travel thermos. She grabbed her bag, coat, and a couple of pieces of fruit from the bowl and left the house, slamming the door behind her. The rain had eased slightly, but she still dashed to the car.

Today was the first day since her return to work in almost a year that she had not said goodbye to her husband. Every day she looked at his handsome smiling face, those piercing, ice-blue eyes, and that heart-melting smile and told him she loved him and asked him to give her the strength to make it through another day without him. Today she didn’t do that. Why? Had she simply forgotten or didn’t she need James anymore?

Matilda bounded into the briefing room at South Yorkshire Police HQ to find the room already full. She looked at her watch: 8:20. What time did she have to get here to be the first one in? Now that the majority of the crime scene work and interviews had finished at Starling House, there was no need for the detectives to work permanently from there. She signalled to DI Christian Brady that she was ready to begin and had a quick word with Aaron Connolly and asked how his wife was doing.

‘She’s back home now and resting. She’s going to need regular check-ups at the hospital to make sure she isn’t bleeding internally, but she’s fine. She just needs to take it easy. The next six months are going to be a nightmare.’

He had been all smiles on Tuesday. The first time any of them had seen him smile in all the years they had known him. Now, the smile was a distant memory, confined to the pages of history. His face was a map of worry and angst.

‘Good morning, everyone,’ Matilda began from the top of the room. ‘I had a phone call last night from Danny Hanson, a reporter on The Star, asking me if an inmate of Starling House had been murdered. I put him off as much as I could but I don’t think he believed me. Did anyone here talk to the press yesterday?’

Everyone looked at each other and shook their heads.

‘I’m guessing some of you will have spoken to your partners, relatives, friends, et cetera. Could any of them have contacted the press? Have a think. I’m not asking you to tell me but you need to know for yourself. This kind of news cannot be allowed to leak out. It has to come from us in an official statement. If any of you do get a call from the press, act dumb and end the conversation as quickly as possible. Is that clear?’

There were nods and quiet assents from around the room.

‘Now, what’s been niggling me about this crime is the way Ryan Asher was placed on the pool table as if he was posed.’ She pointed to the blown-up photograph of the crime scene on the whiteboard behind her. ‘This position he was laid in is significant. As was the number of times he was stabbed. So, any suggestions?’

Matilda already had her own ideas, but she wanted to know what her team were thinking. Since the Murder Investigation Team had been disbanded and everyone was now one big CID she had more detectives under her, more to choose from. The ones who thought like her were obviously the ones who were going to be picked first.

‘He looks like he’s laid out on a mortuary slab,’ DC Kesinka Rani said.

‘Or in a coffin,’ Rory Fleming added.

‘My thinking exactly,’ Matilda said with a smile. ‘According to the toxicology report he wasn’t drugged; there was no sign of a struggle. He was placed on the pool table and stabbed twelve times. Why?’

‘Because somebody wanted him dead,’ offered one of the DCs Matilda didn’t know.

‘I’m tempted to say “no shit, Sherlock”, but I won’t,’ Matilda said, which garnered a ripple of laughter from around the room.

‘You want to know the significance of twelve, don’t you?’ Sian asked with a sly grin on her face. ‘The first thought that comes to mind is that there are twelve members on a jury. You think someone laid Ryan Asher out on the pool table and stabbed him twelve times as if it’s the jury sentencing him to death.’

Matilda smiled. ‘Usually, I’d say help yourself to a snack from Sian’s snack