Little Red

if things were in a similar, if not perfect order, then it was easier for the information to be absorbed when at either location. Jack left him to crack on with his task, organising a coffee re-fill every thirty minutes to help Nathan keep going. They had a long night ahead of them. Both men preferred to work through the darkest hours, there were less distractions from their surroundings and more of a chance in finding something in total concentration. The waxing moon glowed behind clouds of black, the steady snowfall increased, the ground hid under a blanket of glistening white. The time was approaching; the night was nearly upon them.

Chapter Five

The familiar screams of a school morning surrounded the entrance. The children ran jumping like lambs, their bags thrown to the ground and parents shaking their heads as they retrieved them, dusting the gathered snow from the parts of impact. Mr Oliver Breen stood at the gates welcoming each child as they passed him. The call had come in at twenty to seven that morning. The school needed a substitute teacher for an unknown length of time……he gladly accepted. The parents leaving their children sparked up small talk with the young teacher, his fresh cut look and sharp dress sense caught the eye of many of the women, single and married. He explained his position, re-emphasising the word English Degree, as if it would woo them instantly. He enjoyed the flirting and came across as a well-mannered gentleman, at the age of twenty six and with a well-toned body he was a catch for most ladies.

The bell rang, telling the parents to go home and the children to come in. Mr Breen said goodbye and flashed a slight smile to the parents as he turned to enter the school. Nobody noticed the van parked by the roadside.

The children sat down at their own individual desks, some fidgeting with the child next to them. Mr Breen entered the room and closed the door behind him.

‘Morning Class’

‘Gooood morning Sirrrrr’ they answered, the words dragged.

‘I know you normally have Miss Carrigot today, but sadly she is feeling slightly under the weather, so I will be in her place until she is feeling better’ he turned to face the white board and began writing his name for the kids to see.

‘My name is Mr Breen……let’s try…Good morning Mr Breen’

‘Gooood morning Mista Breeeeeen’ over emphasising several words.

He was sure a child had changed the ‘B’ for a ‘G’, but wasn’t too fussed. He began emptying his satchel, removing an A4 notepad and a packet of Bic Biro’s.

‘Right then, I think we should start today’s lessons with a story’ the large book was pulled from a separate compartment of the satchel. The thud echoed as he lowered it to the desk. The children all oooooo’d and ahhhhhh’d as the large emerald coloured book lay before them.

‘Ok, who is the oldest in the classroom?’ all hands went up.

‘Ok………who is the youngest?’ again, all the children’s hands were fired into the air.

‘I see…….who’s name begins with an……..A?’ two hands went up

‘Good……who is the oldest out of you two?’ one hand remained.

‘Great, would you like to pick the story?’

‘Yes please’ the girl answered and she ran up to the desk.

‘What’s your name then?’ he asked as he lowered to her eye level.

‘Abby’ she replied with a pleasant smile.

***

The news crews were ushered in like sheep, the equipment clanging as tripods connected with door frames. Jack had requested six rows of chairs to be placed in the room, eight in each row. He made sure there was enough space at the back and the sides to place the cameras and their stands. The room began to look like a circus or, cluster fuck, as Jack professionally put it. He had asked the victim’s parents to arrive thirty minutes before the reporters did, to ensure they weren’t hassled on the way in. The couple sat with a nervous posture, the mother’s hands trembled and her husband clasped them in his. She fired a small smile then allowed her face to return to the previous grief stricken look. He couldn’t imagine what the pair had gone through, he didn’t attempt to comfort them. In his head there were no available words to use that would put them at ease. He decided to bring them a polystyrene cup of coffee each, lowering to their level as they sat.

‘It’s not the best stuff on the market, but it will warm you up’ his eyes smiled to them.

‘Thank you Sir’ the woman’s voice sounded timid, as if she was made of glass and a loud sound may shatter her into a million pieces.

‘Please, call me Jack. Do you want me to run through the layout we have in mind…….it’s the quickest method we have to get the reporters out and on their way!’

‘Please’ again whispered.

‘I will enter the room first, be aware there will be a lot of camera flashes from all directions. I have already spoken to the crews outside when they arrived, I asked that no questions be asked until you have the floor. I will tell you when that is. I believe you have a speech you would like to make?’

‘Yes, we do’ this time the answer came from the husband.

‘Ok, well take your time. If you need to stop at any time please feel free, the interview will take as long as you want it to’.

With that said Jack stood and sipped some of his coffee, fuck that’s awful, his face displayed the thought as it imitated him sucking on a piece of lemon.

He checked his watch, the hands told him it was nearing ten thirty….nearly show time.

Meanwhile in the small room he had accepted as an office, Nathan walked from wall to wall absorbing the information he had highlighted like a sponge soaking up water. He had worked all night, the coffee helped with keeping the eye lids open, the details that stood out to him were highlighted with an illuminate green colour. Each lap that he completed he found himself marking more and more words………this is what he wanted to achieve. He checked his watch, he thought of the victim and her parents as the large hand landed on the number six, the small sat still upon the number ten. The interview was starting.

Jack blinked as the first flash hit him, let me get through the door you fucking vultures. He stood for several seconds, one hand behind his back. The hidden hand was open to the parents, telling them to wait. The thumbs up told them it was time and he stepped to one side allowing them through. The array of camera flashes was immense, it was if a storm cloud had entered the room and lay over their heads. The lightning crashed down before them, blinding their eyes with each flash. Jack raised a hand towards the crews and gently placed a palm onto the mother’s back.

‘Follow me’ he whispered into her ear

They moved to the front of the room where several chairs had been placed, he gestured to a pair of seats and the couple sat down looking slightly shocked.

‘Ok, can I ask that you keep the flashes to a minimum please? This is a tragic time and difficult for the couple behind me. Please help to make them feel comfortable’ the flashing seized, but Jack knew it wouldn’t be long till another blasted right in his face.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, I have called this conference today to inform all the people of London and the UK just what has happened over the past few days. Several days ago a young girl by the name of Jenny Marsch was reported missing by her parents’ a picture appeared on the wall behind Jack’s head. The photo had been blown up in size, the girls welcoming smile and blonde hair in a ponytail. Her parents looked up to gaze upon the girl that used to be their daughter. Her mother burst into tears.

‘This is Jenny. She was reported missing last Monday. We believe the time she had disappeared was between three and four p.m. She was wearing her school uniform’ a replica had been purchased from the school clothing store. It was placed upon a little manikin with a blonde ponytail as an aid for any possible witnesses.

‘This is what she looked like on the day she went missing. If anybody recalls seeing this girl then I beg that you come forward to help us with this case. Now I would like to introduce you to the girl’s parents, I ask that pictures are kept to a minimum please’ he turned his head and gave a slight nod to the father, he stood slowly. His wife needed to be pulled to her feet. They approached the stand and scanned the room of cameras and reporters.