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

‘That depends,’ Matilda said, going back to the crime scene photos. ‘Look at the position Laura is lying.’ She held up the iPad showing three mangled bodies saturated in blood on a double bed. Pat winced. ‘She looks like she’s sleeping. Maybe she was attacked first. When Daniel and Ruby woke up the blows could have been coming thick and fast. They didn’t have time to register what was happening before they were silenced. When you’re woken so suddenly, you’re dazed and confused as it is without being faced with the horror of a killer wielding a meat cleaver. It’s just possible they didn’t have time to scream.’

‘OK. I’ll agree with you there,’ Pat said. ‘But what about the lack of forensics? The killer left nothing of themselves behind.’

‘That I can’t explain,’ Matilda said honestly.

‘So, the questions we’re left with are why did the killer leave no trace, why not kill Thomas, and, more importantly, why kill them in the first place?’ Pat said, counting the questions on her fingers.

‘Back to square one,’ Adele added.

‘I’m so pleased you two came over here tonight,’ Matilda smiled.

‘How far back into Daniel and Laura Hartley’s past did the original investigation go?’ Adele asked.

Matilda frowned and all eyes turned to Pat.

‘Not very. There seems to be a wall of silence around it. John said there was no evidence of an intruder so the only logical explanation was that someone already in the house had to be the killer. As there was only one person remaining, he was the only suspect. I could give John another call tomorrow if you think it will help.’

‘If you wouldn’t mind, Pat.’ Matilda smiled. ‘Any chance of speaking with the original SIO?’

‘I doubt it. DI Spicer is now Superintendent Spicer.’

‘Really? He’s made Superintendent from a DI in just over two years?’

‘I think I need more wine,’ Adele said, pushing aside the PM reports and turning off her iPad.

The conversation soon moved away from the Hartleys, and Pat Campbell started talking about her husband wanting to go on a cruise around the Greek islands in the spring. Adele joined in as it had always been her dream holiday. Matilda found herself drifting. She hadn’t thought about holidays since James died. Together they had enjoyed several trips abroad, and in the UK. Now he was gone, a holiday was never on the agenda. A holiday was something couples and families did together. Matilda wasn’t part of a family and she wasn’t half of a couple either. She was a widow.

What a horrible word. Widow.

Did Matilda feel like a widow? Yes, she did. She was alone in the world. No husband, no children, no future. She had friends but they had their own lives and families. They wouldn’t want Matilda tagging along all the time. The thought struck her that she would end up like Debbie Hartley; sad, lonely, and alone.

Conversation continued in the background but Matilda wasn’t listening.

‘So, Adele, do you think you’ll find someone else and get married?’ Pat asked.

‘No, I don’t think so. Chris has been on at me for ages to get out there and meet a bloke. He’s enrolled me on a dating website. I’ve chatted to a couple of men who seem nice enough to meet for a drink, but I’m not sure.’

‘You should give it a go. What have you got to lose?’

‘Knowing my luck I’d meet some psycho and I’d end up losing my organs.’

Matilda blinked away a tear before it had the chance to form and looked up at the wedding photograph on the mantel. James looking stunning as always, his beaming smile, his eyes twinkling. Whenever she conjured up a happy memory of their time together, it was always tinged with tragedy, and she measured the amount of time between the memory and his death.

Matilda thought back to Debbie Hartley. Maybe I should pay Debbie a visit, myself. Look my future in the face and see what’s in store.

FORTY

Nine p.m.

It was unusual for Kate Moloney to be walking the corridors of Starling House at this time of night. From six o’clock onwards she was typically found in her office answering emails and reading reports. Beneath her desk she would kick off her heavy shoes with the pointed toes and thick heels that resounded around the high corridors of the building, announcing her presence before she arrived. The top button of her shirt, usually done up tightly around her neck, was undone to allow her to relax and breathe a bit more freely.

Tonight she had abandoned her routine and joined Oliver Byron in taking the inmates from their makeshift recreation room, the library, to be locked up in their rooms for the night.

Books and magazines were left on the tables as the boys silently made their way out of the room. There was no fuss, no moans, no pleas for just one more game of table tennis. The boys simply downed tools and followed the guards out of the room, along the corridor, and up the stairs to A corridor.

Kate followed several steps behind. She walked slowly. The boys shuffled along, dragging their feet, the soles of their trainers barely making a sound. Kate’s shoes were clack, clack, clacking from behind – a sinister metronome.

Oliver Byron, Richard Grover, and Rebecca Childs led the boys to their rooms, locking them in one by one.

‘Goodnight, Kate,’ Callum Nixon called out, giving her a flash of his cheeky smile.

‘Goodnight Callum,’ she replied.

‘Goodnight everyone. I hope you all make it to the morning,’ he said.

Everyone froze at Callum’s crass joke, if that’s what it was, and turned to look at him. His grin was more of a sneer. What secret was lurking behind his deep eyes? Did he know more than he told the police about Ryan Asher’s death or was he playing with them all, drawing attention to himself?

‘That’ll do, Callum. In you go,’ Rebecca said. She was small compared to the inmates. At only five