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

up and one window down. Pat looked closely at the dull front doors, once bright, vibrant colours, now faded from the years’ worth of pollution and car fumes. She spotted the green door of number twenty-seven and asked the driver to stop. He couldn’t pull over as there were no spaces left, so he stopped in the middle of the street. She paid, told him to keep the change, and stepped out into the cool Manchester air.

A stiff breeze blew around her. She pulled up the collar on her coat and gave a little shiver. She looked up at the dark sky; heavy clouds were looming and there was a rumble of thunder in the distance. Pat looked at her surroundings. There was nobody about. There were no lights on behind the grimy windows and dirty net curtains. The whole road seemed abandoned. She almost expected a bale of tumbleweed to pass by on the pavement.

She knocked quietly on the door and waited. Eventually, it was opened by a frail-looking woman in her late forties. She didn’t open the door fully, just wide enough to test the tension on the security chain. She poked her head through the small gap but didn’t say anything.

‘Debbie Hartley?’

‘Yes.’

‘My name is Pat Campbell. I’m a retired detective inspector with South Yorkshire Police. I’m currently back working on cold cases—’

‘Like New Tricks?’

Pat smiled. ‘Exactly, like New Tricks.’ She hated that programme, but was thankful to it for allowing her gain Debbie Hartley’s trust. ‘Would I be able to come in for a while, have a chat?’

‘I’m guessing this is about Thomas.’

‘That’s right.’

Debbie seemed to think for a while before closing the door. There was rattling of the chain before the door opened fully.

Pat stepped inside the dark hallway. There was a fusty smell of damp and dust. The inside of the house looked just as uncared for as the outside.

Pat was shown into a small living room. The thick, yellowed net curtains up at the window cast a gloomy shadow over the room. The carpet had once been an amalgam of vibrant colours but had dulled over time. The sofa, a throwback to a time when wooden frames and green leather were in fashion, looked ready to be taken to the skip. There was nothing cheerful about this front room, nothing inviting. Pat guessed Debbie didn’t have many guests.

The lack of life in the room was mirrored in Debbie. Tall and painfully thin, she had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair which hung lifeless around her frame. Her clothes were tatty and would have been rejected by a charity shop. Her face was gaunt with prominent cheek bones and jawline. Her bulging eyes gave her a frightened and frightening appearance.

‘Would you like me to make you a cup of tea or coffee? I’ve got some hot chocolate if you’d prefer. I love a hot chocolate. Don’t you?’

‘I’m fine, actually. Thank you.’

‘OK. Well, if you change your mind, just say. Sometimes I must drink about a dozen cups of tea a day. I love it. It’s so refreshing. Even on a hot day.’

‘Do you mind if I sit down?’

‘Oh, God, I’m sorry. I should have said, shouldn’t I? Please do. Sit down. Make yourself comfortable.’

‘Do you mind answering a few questions about your nephew?’

Was she mistaken or did Pat see Debbie flinch at the mention of her nephew?

‘No. What do you want to know?’

‘What did you think when you first heard your nephew had killed his parents and sister?’

Debbie’s bottom lip began to wobble. Her eyes darted around the room. ‘I couldn’t believe it. Thomas was a good boy. Daniel and Laura loved him. And Ruby too. They loved them both. Equally. They gave Thomas a lot of freedom. He was never in any trouble.’

‘Did you see much of your brother and his family?’

‘Yes. I saw them all the time. Their house wasn’t far from here. I used to go over most days, or Daniel would come and visit me here after work. It’s been sold now, obviously. A Chinese family live there.’

‘Did Laura not mind you going round so often?’

‘No. She said I could. She worked funny hours so I sometimes looked after Ruby. Thomas didn’t need looking after but Laura liked me being there when she wasn’t. Just in case.’

‘Just in case?’

‘Well, if they needed anything. It was nice to be wanted,’ she said with a proud smile.

‘Do you work?’

‘No.’ She looked at the floor. ‘I’d like to, but I don’t have … what is it when you’re not clever enough?’

‘Qualifications?’

‘That’s it. I don’t have any of those and bosses like you to have them. I’ve been on some courses, literacy and numeracy, but I found them quite hard. I do three days a week in the Age UK shop in town, and sometimes they ask me to go in on Saturday too when they’re busy. I like that.’

Pat smiled. Daniel, Laura, Thomas, and Ruby were obviously the centre of Debbie’s world. She literally had nothing else in her life. The box television in the corner of the room was off when Pat entered, and there were no books or magazines lying around so what had Debbie been doing before Pat knocked on the door? She imagined her sitting in the armchair staring through the window into another world, reliving her memories of her brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and niece – trying to make sense of what had happened and what had gone so horribly wrong.

‘Debbie, have you ever been to see Thomas?’

‘No.’

‘Do you know where he is?’

‘Yes. He’s in Startling House in Sheffield.’

Pat didn’t correct her. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, why haven’t you been to see him?’

She opened and closed her mouth a few times as if trying to find the correct words. ‘I … it’s … he killed my family,’ she practically spat out the words. She bit her bottom lip hard, holding back the tears. ‘He’s written to me a few times though.’

‘Has he? Did you write back?’

‘No.’

‘Do you still have the