A Room Full of Killers by Michael Wood (spanish books to read .TXT) 📕

As usual, Scott was hungry. The large latte, panini, and double chocolate chip muffin would keep him going until lunchtime – and that was only two hours away.

‘How do you manage to stay so slim when you’re eating all that?’ Faith said as she gave her green tea and mini biscotti a pathetic glance.

‘I have a high metabolism,’ he said, tearing a huge chunk off his tomato and mozzarella panini. ‘Also, I go to the gym with Rory four times a week and I go running at the weekends.’

‘I should hate you. You’re so bloody perfect. You’ve even got great skin.’

‘Yeah, I’m a real catch,’ he said with a mouthful.

‘You are. Look at you, tall, good-looking, great hair – why aren’t the girls flocking around you?’

Scott blushed slightly. ‘If you didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d think you were flirting with me, Miss Easter.’ He gave a nervous smile. He hated personal conversations. Fortunately, a barista dropped a tray full of mugs and their attention was drawn in his direction. Once the laughter and applause had died down, the subject changed to safer territory – like a killer on the loose in Starling House.

‘There are some court cases that stay with you. The Ryan Asher case is one of them.’

The court usher, Gerald McCarthy, was getting ready to attend another case that had been delayed due to the judge being stuck in traffic. He was in his black gown but had not yet put on his wig, which was sitting next to him like a faithful cat. He was a tall man with bug-like eyes and a prominent Adam’s apple. The broken capillaries on his face were evidence he enjoyed a liquid lunch. His shaking hands were a clear sign he lived on his nerves.

‘It was standing room only most of the time,’ he continued. ‘We had to turn people away.’

‘Was that just because it was a high profile case, or supporters of Ryan Asher and his family?’ Scott asked.

‘If memory serves me correctly, there weren’t many of his family there. His mum and dad and maybe one or two others. It’s usually old women and gawkers.’

‘We read online that there was an incident. One guy had to be removed from the public gallery or something?’ Scott asked, not wanting to prompt Gerald, or lead him into giving a false statement.

‘That’s right, I forgot about him,’ Gerald replied, pausing while tying his shoelaces to look up. ‘Funny looking guy. Big moustache. Tall and thin. He turned up every day in the beginning. Then he just suddenly burst into this tirade about how it was all the parent’s fault, that they didn’t bring him up properly. He really laid into them.’

‘Who was he?’ Faith asked.

‘I’ve no idea. It took three security personnel to drag him out of the court room. We called the police and they took him away – probably just gave him a caution because we didn’t see him again after that.’

‘Did the Asher family know who he was?’

‘No. I asked – can’t remember her name – a woman; she was always comforting Mrs Asher. I took her to be her sister or something. Anyway, I apologized for the disturbance, like you do, and asked her if she knew who he was. I mean, it was a family case, wasn’t it? He killed his grandparents. The only people who should be baying for blood should be the family. But she said she’d never seen him before in her life.’

Scott and Faith exchanged a frowned expression.

‘And you’ve never seen him since?’

‘Nope. And I’m good with faces. Names I forget as soon as I’ve heard them. But I never forget a face.’

‘Would there be CCTV footage of him being escorted out of court?’

‘Not after all this time.’

The door opened and a small woman popped her head through. ‘Gerald, the judge has arrived.’ She disappeared just as quickly.

‘Right, that’s me. Time to wig up and get to it.’

‘What’s the case today?’ Scott asked as all three of them left the room.

‘Start of a new trial. A teenage boy killed his twin sister,’ he shook his head. ‘It makes you wonder what this world’s coming to doesn’t it?’

‘What’s he pleading?’

‘Not guilty. He’ll probably end up at your Starling House.’ He let out a huge belly laugh that ricocheted around the open reception then he disappeared among the throng of visitors in the direction of the courts. With his maniacal laugh and flowing black cape he looked like a superhero heading into battle.

‘A tall man with a big moustache. It doesn’t give us much to go on, does it?’ Faith sighed.

‘No. It doesn’t,’ Scott said, not paying any attention to Faith.

‘Come on, we’d better go and book into the hotel before they give our reservation away.’

Faith stood up to leave but noticed Scott sitting on the bench. He looked pensive.

‘What’s wrong?’ She asked.

‘Nothing. I just had a thought: why would you attend a trial if you had nothing to do with the case?’

‘To be nosey I suppose.’

‘Or maybe you’re planning something depending on the outcome.’

‘You think Ryan’s murder was planned long before he ended up at Starling House?’

‘I don’t know,’ Scott mused with a heavy frown. ‘It was a quick flash of something that stayed in my head for seconds then just flew out. Ryan was killed after only a day in Starling House. It’s like he was killed at the first opportunity to get him alone.’

‘But if that’s the case then the killer is someone connected to the family, and also to Starling House.’

‘So either the family is hiding something,’ Scott continued Faith’s thought, ‘or someone at Starling House is.’

TWENTY-SEVEN

Matilda looked out of a top floor window at Starling House overlooking the driveway. It was a cloudy day and a fine mist covered the landscape. The view was limited but there was a good angle of the entrance gates and winding drive. She watched as a dark red Audi crawled gently over the gravel. It didn’t stop at the main doors but turned