‘Who are we dealing with here?’
‘Well, I’ve … I … ’ he stumbled, obviously disturbed. ‘I’ve been reading up on Callum Nixon.’ He filled the group in on Nixon’s murder of two teachers in Liverpool. His voice was shaking as he ran his eyes over the file. He then went on to discuss Mark Parker, who had stabbed his violent father and strangled his mother. He was about to start on Lee Marriott when he looked up and made eye contact with Matilda. His look was almost pleading with her to intervene and tell him to stop.
‘OK, let’s leave it there for now. We’ll have another briefing towards the end of the day. Sian can fill us all in then on the rest of the inmates. In the meantime, let’s hope one of them confesses to it and we can wrap this up by tea time.’
Famous last words.
The remaining seven inmates of Starling House were becoming restless as their incarceration in the dining room entered its third hour. They were being watched by two of the guards, who, despite the inmates’ pleas for information, remained silent, leaving the boys to concoct their own theories.
‘Well, it’s obvious something’s happened to Ryan, otherwise he’d be here,’ Lewis said. ‘You think he’s dead?’
‘Of course he’s dead, you nob,’ Callum replied. ‘I saw the cop cars come down the drive. They wouldn’t send all them out if he’d fallen downstairs or something. I reckon he’s been murdered.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Thomas asked, looking up from the book he was reading. ‘He could have died in his sleep, had one of those underlying heart conditions.’
‘Yeah, and I’ve got Scarlett Johansson coming over tonight to tuck me in.’
‘Why would anyone want to kill Ryan?’ Lee asked. ‘He’s only been here a day.’
‘Because he’s murdering scum,’ Callum answered.
‘We’re all murdering scum if you read the papers.’
‘You know what I think?’ Lewis asked, leaning back in his seat with his arms folded. ‘I think there’s a serial killer on the loose and he’s stalking Starling House. One by one we’ll all get bumped off until only the killer is remaining.’
‘You’ve seen too many horror films,’ Mark said.
‘Of course he has. That’s why he killed his brother,’ Callum said. ‘You can’t believe anything he says. His mind’s fucked. He’d love it if there was a serial killer loose.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘He’s probably the one doing it.’
‘Fuck off, Callum. I slept right through last night.’
‘We’ve only your word for that.’
‘Why would someone want to kill us all anyway, Lewis?’ Mark asked.
‘Don’t encourage him.’
‘I’m just saying,’ he continued, ‘people don’t bother with us; we’re just left here. What would be the point?’
Lewis leaned forward. The twinkle in his eye was evidence he was enjoying this conversation. ‘It could be motiveless. That’s the scariest crime of all. When the murderer has no reason for killing and does it out of pleasure.’
‘There speaks a man of experience,’ Callum said. ‘Fuck off to another part of the room, Lewis, you creep me out.’
The key turned in the door to the dining room and all the inmates stopped in their tracks and wondered who was coming in. Kate Moloney entered, flanked by DCI Matilda Darke, DI Christian Brady, DS Sian Mills and several tall and well-built uniformed officers.
As they saw Kate enter, the inmates all talked over each other, demanding answers. Matilda hoped nobody saw her roll her eyes when she heard one of the inmates say they ‘had no right to be locked up in here like this’. Had they forgotten their reason for being here in the first place?
Kate, hands up to silence the boys, said: ‘Please, calm down and I shall inform you of what has occurred here this morning.’ It didn’t take long for the inmates to be quiet. Kate clearly commanded a great deal of respect among them. ‘You’ll obviously know that Ryan Asher is not among you. He was discovered in the recreation room this morning. He died during the night.’
Matilda looked quickly at each of the seven blank faces to see if she could recognize any hint of a guilty expression. There wasn’t any. She didn’t expect there to be. After all, these were convicted murderers. They knew all about hiding their emotions and the tell-tale signs of their guilt.
‘This is Detective Chief Inspector Matilda Darke from South Yorkshire Police,’ Kate said, stepping to one side to allow the spotlight to fall on Matilda. ‘She is leading the investigation into finding out what happened to Ryan, and all of us, not just you, but myself, and all the staff, will need to be interviewed and give a statement as to our whereabouts—’
‘So he was murdered then?’ One of the boys interrupted.
‘At the moment, Callum, we don’t know what happened to him.’
‘Of course he was. You wouldn’t have a DCI here if he’d hung himself or he’d choked on his Weetabix.’
‘What was he doing in the rec. room when we were all locked up by nine o’clock last night?’ another boy asked.
Matilda raised an eyebrow at a very good question. She wondered if any of the boys knew the answer.
Kate ignored the question. ‘It’s still early days in the investigation but I’ve no doubt in my mind that DCI Darke here, and her team, will soon get to the bottom of it. As I said, you’ll all need to be interviewed, and, unfortunately, you’ll need to remain here in the dining room until you’re called. Obviously, the recreation room is going to be out of bounds for the foreseeable future. We shall be adapting the library to accommodate you all.’
‘There are going to be three uniformed officers staying with you until you’ve been interviewed,’ Matilda began after clearing her throat. She spoke louder than she intended and her voice bounced off the walls. She suddenly felt very self-conscious about her appearance. Next to the neatly turned out Kate Moloney she looked like DCI Vera Stanhope from the Ann Cleeves novels. ‘If there is anything you need, or if you need to go to the toilet, let them know and someone will accompany you. We will be calling you in very soon.’
Matilda gave them a small smile before turning and leaving the room. She nodded at the three uniformed officers (she had purposely chosen the three tallest and fittest ones she could find) as she left the room.
Just before the door closed, the chattering among the inmates started up again. Maybe she was mistaken but she was sure she heard one of them mention Carl Meagan’s name.
Oliver Byron was sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair, gripping the arms firmly, his knuckles almost white. His unruly mound of salt-and-pepper hair seemed to have greyed more in the few hours Matilda and her team had been at Starling House.
‘Mr Byron, I know you’ve had a shock this morning, but I’d like you to talk me through everything that happened,’ Matilda began.
DC Scott Andrews was sitting next to her, pen poised and hovering over his notepad. Kate Moloney had asked if they wanted to be alone, but Oliver had requested she stay.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘it really has been a massive shock. I’ve never seen anything so … ’
‘It’s