‘You’re more than welcome to join us, Oliver,’ Rebecca said. ‘We were just wondering what’s going to happen to Starling House. It’s a gorgeous building.’
‘It is. I wouldn’t be surprised if a property developer didn’t turn it into apartments. It would be a shame if it was. Maybe a nice country hotel?’
‘After twenty years of housing child murderers, I can’t see anyone wanting to spend time here.’
‘I don’t know,’ Peter added. ‘It could be very popular hosting those murder mystery weekends. Or maybe ghost hunting.’
‘So this is where you’re all hiding is it?’ Gavin Ryecroft said entering the room.
‘I thought you’d gone home,’ Rebecca said.
‘No. I drove through the night from Norfolk and spent the last two days trying to sort out all this sodding security crap for the police. I was knackered. I’ve just been having a lie-in.’
‘I don’t know how you can,’ Rebecca shuddered. ‘I’m finding this place creepy with hardly anyone around. I wasn’t keen on sleeping in the building when the inmates were here. Now they’re gone it seems worse for some reason. I put a chair under my door handle last night. I didn’t do that with murderers sleeping below me.’
‘It certainly seems strange without them, doesn’t it?’ Gavin said, sitting down next to Rebecca. ‘Do you reckon we’re all out of a job then?’
‘It’s beginning to look that way.’
‘I wonder which one of them did it?’ Rebecca said, refilling her mug from the coffee pot.
‘Did what?’
‘Killed Ryan and Jacob. Obviously one of the inmates did it. I wonder which one.’
‘The way that DI was talking when I was taking him through the security system, they thought it might be one of us,’ Gavin said, blowing on his coffee.
‘What? That’s absurd.’
‘The boys were locked in their rooms when both murders took place. The only people with keys are sitting in this room.’
‘And Richard Grover and Fred Percival,’ Oliver said. ‘I can’t believe Richard abused his position like that. And who would have thought Fred was a paedophile? It beggars belief, it really does.’
‘Fred has been released without charge,’ Rebecca said. ‘He hasn’t done anything. Well, not here, anyway.’
‘I never really warmed to Richard,’ Gavin said. ‘I liked Fred though. He was a good man, very intelligent. I had many a long conversation with him. It just shows you don’t really know a person, do you?’
‘Did that DI say who they thought was the killer if they thought it was a member of staff?’ Peter said.
‘He’s hardly going to say that now, is he, son? He just said they couldn’t rule anything out. They like to keep their options open, don’t they?’
‘But it could be any one of us,’ Peter said, worry etched on his young face.
‘I think it’s more likely to have been Richard,’ Rebecca said. ‘If they thought it was one of us remaining the police would be here guarding us.’
‘They are. There’s a couple of cop cars on the drive.’
‘Oh.’
‘Anyway, Rebecca, you said yourself you slept with a chair under your door handle last night. You obviously still think the killer is here.’
‘No. I just said it felt spooky, that’s all.’
Peter stood up quickly, tipping his chair over. ‘I think I’m going to go.’
‘Go? Where?’ Oliver asked.
‘Home.’
‘I don’t think the police will like that. Kate certainly won’t.’
‘I don’t care. I’ll resign then she can’t stop me. I’m not staying here another night with a killer waiting to strike again.’
‘Peter, you’re being silly,’ Rebecca scoffed.
‘Really? Are you telling me you’re not going to put a chair under your handle again tonight?’
‘I … well …’ Rebecca flustered.
‘You can’t. You’re just as scared as I am.’
‘Peter, sit down. Let’s all be rational about this,’ Oliver said.
‘No. I’m not staying here a minute longer than I have to.’
Oliver stood up and went over to Peter by the door. He placed his hands on his shoulders to try and calm the young guard down, but Peter shook them off. ‘Don’t touch me, Oliver. I’m sorry. I can’t trust any of you.’ He turned and ran out of the room.
‘Well that was a performance,’ Gavin said.
‘Do you think I should go and talk to him?’ Rebecca asked.
‘He’s probably best left on his own.’
‘What if he’s right though? What if one of us left is the killer? Shouldn’t we all stick together?’
‘I think you’ve been watching too many horror films, Rebecca,’ Oliver laughed.
‘Really? Then where has Kate been these last couple of hours?’
SIXTY-FIVE
‘Every time my phone rings I expect it to be someone from Greater Manchester Police wanting to tear me apart,’ Valerie said as soon as Matilda was sitting comfortable in the seat opposite her desk.
Matilda didn’t say anything. Everything she thought of would sound shallow and placatory. She needed Valerie on her side and knew she was going against her own judgement so didn’t want to annoy her any more than she already had.
‘I have some information for you about Wesley Brigstone. You’re not going to like it.’
‘Is he dead?’
‘No. He’s back in prison.’
Bang goes my theory.
‘He was released from HMYOI Stoke Heath in August 1995, three years ahead of his official release date, and given the new identity of Samuel Bryce. He was moved to Leicester where he found it difficult to cope with life back in the real world. He couldn’t get a job, fell into alcohol addiction and he received treatment at various facilities in the local area. He seemed to turn his life around in the early 2000s but lost his job at a packing factory in 2009 just after the economic crash which forced the factory to close. He turned back to the drink and, this time, to drugs too.’ Valerie was reading all this from a printed sheet of paper in front of her.
‘When did he go back to prison?’
‘September 2014. He won’t be coming back out.’
My theory is still alive.
‘The Hartleys were murdered in January 2014,’ Matilda said. ‘I’d still like to talk to him.’
Valerie let out a
