A Room Full of Killers by Michael Wood (spanish books to read .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Michael Wood
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‘I haven’t covered anything up, and I resent the accusation. I’ve dealt with everything internally.’
‘You’re not answering my question.’
‘No. There have not been any other incidents here that I haven’t told you about.’
‘I’m sorry, Kate, but I don’t believe you at all.’
Kate shrugged. ‘That’s not my problem.’
‘It most certainly is,’ Matilda replied.
THIRTY-SIX
Scott Andrews reversed carefully into a tight spot on Julia Palmer’s road. Lined with cars on both sides it wasn’t easy to find a space for the pool car and they almost had to drive into the next street to find one. He turned off the radio, which had just broken the news of a dead body being found at Starling House in Sheffield.
‘We couldn’t have timed this better,’ Scott said.
‘How do you want to play this, good cop, bad cop?’ Faith asked as they walked the several hundred yards to Julia’s home.
‘No. I was thinking more bad cop, bad cop.’
‘You can’t bully her.’
‘I’ve no intention of bullying her. It’s time we stopped pissing about though and she told us where Ryan’s parents are living. The news is out. It’s only a matter of time before they discover their son is dead from the six o’clock news. That’s not how it should be.’
‘Maybe we should have come first thing instead of going back to the court to ask about that CCTV footage again. I knew it was going to be a waste of time.’
‘We have to check these things for ourselves, Faith. We can’t just take one man’s word for it that there won’t be any saved footage.’
Faith sighed. ‘Fine. But if Julia won’t help us then I can’t see any other way. Besides, if they do hear it on the news, maybe they’ll get in touch themselves.’
‘Would you?’
Faith stopped as she thought for a moment. ‘To be honest, no, I wouldn’t. If I had a son and he murdered my parents I’d wash my hands of him.’
‘There you go then. If Ryan’s parents feel the same way, finding out he’s dead is only going to make them even more invisible. We need to know where they are before they turn on the news.’
They reached the garden path leading to Julia’s home just as the front door was opening. Cynical as ever, Scott wondered whether Julia had seen them arrive and beaten them to the door to pretend she was on her way out. She was wearing a long thick overcoat that was in great need of dry cleaning.
‘You again! Look, I told you I’d pass on your details the next time they ring. If you keep badgering me I won’t bother.’
‘Julia,’ Scott began. ‘Ryan’s dead.’ He tried to speak quietly but the sound of passing traffic threatened to swallow his words.
Julia stopped in her tracks. She was midway through locking the front door. Her back was to the waiting detectives and they couldn’t see her facial expression but they saw her bow her head. Sadness? Regret? Shame?
‘Dead?’
‘Perhaps we could go inside,’ Faith said.
‘I have things to do.’ Julia buttoned up her coat and walked down the cracked path, head bowed. She passed the detectives and didn’t make eye contact.
‘Julia—’
‘No!’ she snapped, turning to face them. ‘Don’t say anything. I don’t want to know and neither do Ryan’s parents. He destroyed this family.’
‘Don’t you want to know how he died?’
‘No, but I hope it was painful.’
Julia turned on her heel and was about to walk away when Scott called her back.
‘You don’t have kids, Julia, so you won’t know how it feels, but put yourself in Belinda’s position. She may not want anything to do with Ryan – at the end of the day he is still her son. She gave birth to him. She will still have feelings for him. She needs to know he’s dead, but not from hearing it on the news.’
An elderly woman passed by. She slowed as she approached them; obviously eavesdropping on a personal, and interesting, conversation.
‘Julia, I really think we should talk inside,’ Faith said.
‘Why? So one of you can pretend to need the toilet and rummage through my drawers to find out where Belinda’s living? I don’t think so. Look, I’m not going to tell you where they’re living and you can’t force me. I will pass on the news of Ryan’s death. Now, please, leave me alone.’
Once again she turned and headed off down the pavement, taking large and determined strides.
‘She is one screwed-up woman,’ Scott commented.
‘Can you blame her? Look at the lives Ryan has ruined. No one is mourning his death. Nobody cares he’s dead. So why are we sodding bothering with all this?’ Faith turned in the opposite direction of Julia and headed back to the car.
THIRTY-SEVEN
By early evening the press had descended on Starling House. At first it was only the local media. Danny Hanson was first at the gates from the Sheffield Star. He had tried to get buzzed in but his pleas fell on deaf ears. There was no way he was getting past security. He had taken a few photographs of the building and grabbed his binoculars from the glove box of his car to get a closer look, but it was futile.
A BBC Radio Sheffield van pulled up close to the gates and a young man and woman stepped out.
‘Anything?’
‘Nothing so far. I can’t see any movement at all,’ Danny said. He held out his hand to introduce himself.
‘Glenis Bishop and Leroy Price.’
‘Nice to meet you.’
‘What do you know about Starling House?’
‘Absolutely nothing,’ Danny replied. ‘I’d never heard about it until this afternoon.’
‘I had, but I’m Sheffield born and bred. I had to give Leroy here a quick history lesson on the way over.’
‘I had a look on the Net while I was waiting but there’s not much information.’
‘There won’t be. That building is the original mystery house. Frankenstein could be creating monsters in there and we wouldn’t know about it,’ Glenis smiled.
After an hour of waiting for something to happen, and watching a building shrouded in silence and mystery,
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