A Room Full of Killers

by Michael Wood

  Kate looked at the ground as if everything that went on at Starling House was her fault.

  ‘The last day of the trial was my day off. I was glued to the television just waiting for the breaking news. When the guilty verdict came through I was delighted. It was the first time I’d smiled in years. Ryan Asher was coming to Starling House.’

  ‘Did you kill him yourself?’

  He looked away from Christian. ‘No. Like I said, I’m not that type of person. I didn’t need to be though; I was surrounded by killers. I knew what that pervert Richard Grover was doing to the boys, so I used it to my advantage. I heard some of them saying how he made them feel physically sick. Jacob Brown was one of them. I took him to one side and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. If he killed Ryan Asher for me, I’d break him out of Starling House.’

  ‘Oliver!’ Rebecca exclaimed.

  ‘He fell for it?’ Sian asked.

  Oliver tightened his grip on Rebecca’s hair and she cried out. ‘Well, I had to sweeten the deal a bit more. I offered him some money so he could start afresh somewhere and I said I’d have a car waiting for him outside. He just wanted out.’

  ‘How did you get Ryan from his cell to the recreation room?’

  ‘We don’t call them cells,’ Kate said weakly.

  ‘Oh give it up, Kate,’ John snapped. ‘It’s that kind of pussyfooting around that’s made this country the joke it is. We can’t call them cells; we must give prisoners the right to vote in an election. Why not send a prostitute to each cell every Friday night and give them all an hour’s fun? They’re criminals, Kate. They’re killers. They should be locked up for the rest of their lives without any privileges.’

  Everyone was silent while John’s rant had the chance to settle. He continued. ‘I messed about with the CCTV on A corridor, and unlocked Ryan’s door. I told Jacob to tell him that it was some kind of initiation as it was Ryan’s first night here. I don’t know what he said to him but he must have been convincing as they were soon in the rec. room. I was hiding behind the bar. I didn’t want Ryan recognizing me as soon as he walked in. You should have heard Jacob,’ John laughed. ‘He had the patter down perfect, telling him to lie on the pool table and close his eyes. He told him not to be nervous as nothing bad was going to happen to him; it was just going to be a bit of fun. The next thing I heard was a groan as the knife was plunged into his stomach.’

  ‘You didn’t kill him yourself?’

  ‘I couldn’t. I’m weak. I wanted to, but I couldn’t,’ he said, looking down. ‘As soon as I heard the first stab, I came out from behind the bar and went over to the pool table. Ryan looked up at me, his eyes pleading, then he recognized me. He knew who I really was. I told Jacob to stab him again, which he did. I wanted twelve stab wounds. I was Ryan’s jury. I was his executioner. I think he died after the fourth of fifth stab. I don’t care how long I live for but I’ll die a happy man knowing Ryan Asher’s final thought was about Malcolm.’

  The room fell silent once more as they took in what the man they knew as Oliver Byron had done. The look on the faces of the staff was one of disbelief.

  ‘Surely Jacob Brown would have been covered in Ryan’s blood. What did you do about his clothes?’

  ‘I had Jacob change out of them in the rec. room and gave him a fresh set. After I’d locked him back in his cell I cleaned the knife and put it back in the kitchen and put his clothes in a bag and hid them in my room.’

  ‘We’ve searched your room. We didn’t find them,’ Faith said.

  He smiled. ‘There’s a ledge outside my window. The wood is rotten. If you lift the top off there’s a nice gap between the roof and the wall of the building. I wedged the bag in there. I was planning on taking it home to burn when I got off shift.’

  ‘So what happened with Jacob?’ Sian asked.

  ‘Jacob was a loose cannon. All the next day he kept badgering me about when I was going to get him out, how much longer would he have to wait. When the storm came I knew that was the perfect opportunity. I sneaked him out, smashed the window in the rec room to make it look like he’d escaped, and got him through the gates at the top of the drive while everyone else was at the back of the building looking at the broken window.’

  ‘Did you need to kill him?’ Rebecca asked.

  ‘Don’t feel sorry for him. Why are you all so shocked? The boys in here are all convicted killers. Jacob Brown was a rapist and a murderer. Ryan Asher killed his grandparents and set them on fire. He beat my son so badly he’s in a persistent vegetative state. Why should they get your sympathy? If you should feel sorry for anyone it’s Malcolm, it’s his mother, it’s me who has had to endure this agony.’ The tears were coursing down John’s face as he sought to find someone who would be on his side.

  ‘You’re not arresting me for doing this country a favour. Those killers were still teenagers. Do you have any idea how much money the tax payer was going to have to waste on those two evil bastards? You shouldn’t be arresting me; you should be giving me a medal. I’ve saved you all a fortune.’

  ‘John, put the knife down,’ Christian said, his hands raised. ‘Come on, you don’t want to hurt Rebecca. You’ve worked with her for months; you like her. You’re colleagues, friends.’

  ‘No. I’ve been playing a part all these months, a means to an end. Oliver Byron was Rebecca’s friend, but I’m not Oliver. I’m John and I need to get out of here.’

  ‘That’s not going to happen, John. Now put down the knife, let go of Rebecca and we can talk about this down at the station,’ Christian said. He tried to sound soothing and placatory but judging by the steely look in John’s wide eyes it didn’t seem to be having any effect at all.

  ‘No, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re all going to move away from the door, and Rebecca and I are going to walk out of here. I’ll drive off and release Rebecca when I’m far enough away.’

  ‘No!’ Rebecca screamed. ‘Please don’t let him take me anywhere.’ She started to squirm and wriggle free from John’s grasp.

  ‘Stand still you little bitch.’

  ‘John, let her go. Put down the knife.’

  ‘Oliver, please let me go. I’ve got a child, a baby, she’s not even a year old yet. Please,’ Rebecca cried. She grabbed at his arm and tried to push it away from her throat but he was too strong for her. ‘Oliver, you’re hurting me.’

  ‘John, stop this right now,’ Sian screamed.

  Rebecca slammed her foot down on John’s foot. He called out in pain. He swung his right arm out to regain some balance and Rebecca went limp in his arms. He looked ahead at the shocked expression on the faces of everyone in the room. He lifted his arms up and Rebecca fell to the floor with a thud, the blood gushing out of the large slit in her throat.

  SEVENTY-FOUR

  By the time Matilda and Amy left Wakefield Prison it was dark and the temperature had plunged. The sky was cloudless and an infinite number of stars and a full moon lit their path to the car park.

  ‘Well that was certainly eye opening,’ Amy said.

  ‘You can say that again. He was unburdening himself, wasn’t he?’

  ‘It seemed like it. Nobody has asked him about the Hartley killings before, so he probably thought it wasn’t worth mentioning.’

  ‘The trouble is, we only have his word for it. If he gets himself a decent solicitor he’ll get off with it. We need physical evidence.’

  ‘Such as?’

  Matilda fished her mobile out of her pocket and turned it on. ‘I’m going to get onto your DCI in Leicester. I want a full forensic search of the flat he and Caitlyn shared. I know it’s going back a few years but it if was basically a squat, which it sounds like it was, it may have been left abandoned. Also, could you track down Caitlyn, get her formally identified and sort out a burial?’

  ‘Sure,’ Amy smiled.

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Matilda exclaimed, looking at the brightly lit screen of her phone.

  ‘Problem?’

  ‘I’m no
t sure,’ she frowned. ‘Look, I’ll give you a call later. Thanks for this afternoon.’

  Matilda saw the many texts from Sian, the several missed calls from Christian and a voicemail from Valerie waiting for her. Something had obviously happened in Sheffield that warranted her attention, and she had been in Wakefield. The fact her hunch paid off wouldn’t be enough for the ACC. She had told Matilda to wait until the Starling House case had been dealt with, and she had gone against her wishes.

  ‘Matilda, it’s Christian. Sian tells me you’ve taken a couple of hours off. Any chance you can give me a quick call please?’

  ‘Matilda, Christian again. Look this is getting a bit urgent now and I’m not sure how to approach this. I could really do with some advice. Ring me.’

  ‘Matilda, I know you’re going through some personal shit but this is serious. I’m going to have to go to the ACC.’

  Matilda couldn’t blame Christian for going over her head. She had left him in charge, but, despite him being an excellent DI, he often needed clarification for the decisions he made. It was as if he was afraid of doing anything on his own. It was something he would need to work on if he wanted to gain promotion to DCI but, right now, he needed her help and she hadn’t been there for him. She hoped he had decided to sit tight and wait for her call.

  ‘Matilda, it’s ACC Masterson here. I’m guessing you’ve gone to Wakefield Prison despite the fact I told you not you. We will discuss that another time. I need you back here right now.’

  As soon as Matilda hit the M1 she floored the Ford Focus and tried to get as much speed out of the dated car as she could.

  ‘Shit,’ she said under her breath.

  Matilda changed lanes to get around slow-moving vehicles like an expert on a Formula One track. It wasn’t the other drivers going slow; it was Matilda breaking the speed limit. She didn’t care if a traffic camera flashed at her or if she was stopped by police. None of that mattered.

  With one eye on the road and one hand on the wheel, she placed her phone in the hands-free cradle and dialled a number from the phone book. She called Sian but there was no reply. Christian’s mobile kept ringing out. What the hell was going on back in Sheffield?

  Rebecca Childs was in shock, her whole body shaking as the life drained from her body. Faith leapt forward and dropped to her knees. She grabbed the roll of kitchen paper from the table and pulled off several sheets to press against the gaping wound in Rebecca’s throat. The paper quickly soaked up the blood.

  ‘Give me your jacket,’ Faith said to Gavin.

  ‘John, drop the knife,’ Christian said. His eyes darted from John’s stricken face to the bloody knife in his right hand. He wished he hadn’t left his baton in the car. He looked over to Sian. He could see the outline of a pair of handcuffs in her back pocket but that was it. How had they not realized they’d be entering such a dangerous situation? He doubted Matilda would have made such a monumental error.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his voice suddenly calm. ‘I didn’t mean for that to happen. I like Rebecca. You saw what happened. She struggled. She … the knife … it just—’

  ‘Put the knife down, John.’

  ‘I just want to leave. I want to get out of here.’

  ‘I can’t let that happen.’

  John’s breathing grew in intensity as his mind thought of a new scenario for his escape. His facial muscles ticked and pulsed. ‘You, bitch copper,’ he said, calmly, pointing the knife to Faith. ‘Move away from her.’

  Faith looked up into the desperate eyes of her captor. ‘If I release my hands, she’ll bleed to death.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ he struggled to get the words out. He obviously did care.

  ‘She has a baby. She needs to survive for her baby.’

  ‘She has a husband. She has a family. They’ll bring it up. Move away from her now.’

  Faith seemed to think about it before saying: ‘That’s not going to happen. I’m not leaving this woman to die.’

  John turned his attention back to Christian. ‘If you don’t stand out of my way, I will stab whoever I have to so that I can leave this building. I’ll start with the bitch copper here.’

  ‘Shit,’ Christian said under his breath.

  ‘Ok, John, calm down,’ Sian said. ‘Take some deep breaths. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone else in this room. You know them. They’ve done nothing wrong, have they?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Exactly. So, like I said, take deep breaths.’

  John breathed in slowly through his nose and out through his mouth. His entire body was shaking with adrenaline.

  ‘This is what’s going to happen,’ Sian said, her voice low and soft. ‘We’re going to stand to one side and we’ll let you leave. As soon as you’ve gone, though, we’ll be calling for an ambulance for Rebecca, so you’ll need to run fast. Do you understand?’

  Christian stared at Sian. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. Was she really allowing a killer to walk free.

  ‘Yes. I understand. Thank you,’ he gave her a weak smile.

  ‘OK. We’re going to move nice and slowly.’ She looked at Christian and nodded for him to do what she said.

  ‘No funny business,’ John said. He held the knife firmly in both hands and edged towards the exit.

  ‘Scott, it’s Matilda. What’s going on?’ She shouted into her mobile in the cradle on the dashboard. She was hurtling down Bochum Parkway swerving around cars and ignoring the beeps from fellow drivers.

  ‘I’ve no idea. Why?’

  ‘I’ve called Christian and Sian and neither of them are answering. I’ve also rung Starling House about four times and nothing. Who’s in there with you?’

  ‘Nobody.’

  ‘Where’s Sian and Christian?’

  ‘They said they were going back to Starling House. Apparently, Faith had a breakthrough with this John Preston guy.’

  ‘Shit. OK. Scott, I want you to stand by your phone. We may need backup.’

  ‘Why? What’s going on?’

  ‘I don’t know. Just a feeling at the moment. Pick a lane you stupid bitch.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Not you, Scott.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m heading for Starling House. I should be there in a few minutes.’

  ‘Do you want me to meet you there?’

  Matilda wiped away a tear. ‘Scott … I’ll … I’ll call you back.’ She tore her mobile out of the cradle and threw it on the passenger seat. ‘FUCK!’ she screamed.

  The sky was dark with heavy low-lying clouds. The wind whipped at John Preston as soon as he opened the back door and was hit in the face by a whirlwind of rain. He took a deep breath and ran out of Starling House. With a bloody hand, he fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. He dropped them as he tried to keep hold of the knife and select the fob to unlock the door. He had to be quick. He needed to get out of the grounds and onto the motorway. It wouldn’t be long before an ambulance and more police would turn up, then a manhunt would be launched and the whole country would be looking for him.

  He climbed in behind the wheel and slammed the door shut. It echoed into the cold night. He had only run a few metres but he was soaked to the skin. He stalled the car in panic. His hands were shaking; he was cold and wet, and he couldn’t seem to control himself at all. Eventually, the car started and began to reverse out of his parking space. As he looked up at Starling House he saw Sian in the window of the staffroom talking on her mobile phone.

  John slammed his foot down on the accelerator, kicking up gravel from the driveway. He headed for the open security gates. There was no reason for them to be locked with no inmates to keep from escaping.

  He didn’t slow down as he turned right out of the drive. Accelerating to forty miles per hour, he took the tight corner, and scraped the side of his Vauxhall on the wall. He just needed to get to the motorway. Once he was on an open road he could go anywhere.

  At the first bend he tried to turn th
e steering wheel but his sticky bloody hands lost their grip and he moved over into the next lane of oncoming traffic. He leaned forward to try and see through the blur of rain on the windscreen and the battering of the wipers. Coming in the opposite direction he saw a speeding silver car heading towards him. It beeped for him to get out of the way.

  But there was nothing he could do.

  The silver Vauxhall and the silver Ford Focus made contact. One left the road and slammed into a tree, the other flipped and rolled twice before crashing into a drystone wall.

  SEVENTY-FIVE

  Matilda wasn’t sure which hurt most – the actual crash or the impact of an airbag to her face. It took her a while to find her bearings. She could see the ugly image of Starling House just ahead. Her head felt fuzzy; she was dazed and confused. She tore off her seatbelt and stumbled out of the car.

  Ahead, two shapes came running towards her. She recognized the small woman with the red hair as Sian; the man alongside her was a mystery to her blurred vision.

  ‘Matilda, are you all right? Can you hear me?’ It sounded like Christian Brady but his shape seemed all wrong.

  Matilda placed a hand to her forehead, and it came away wet with blood. She felt as if she was falling yet there was ground beneath her feet.

  ‘Sian, call for an ambulance.’

  ‘I already have. It’s on its way. She should lie down; she looks unsteady.’

  ‘I think she’s in shock.’

  ‘I’ll stay with her. Maybe you should check on Oliver, I mean, John.’

  ‘Good idea. Try to keep her awake.’

  Matilda heard the words spoken by her colleagues but they made no sense to her. Were they even talking about her?

  Sian’s blurred form came back into view. ‘Mat, I want you to sit down, OK? You’re looking a bit wobbly.’ Her voice was slow and controlled. ‘Mat, how many fingers am I holding up?’