The Ghost of Robert Brown: A Mystery Novel
Page 22
Gary inserted the key into the car door, unlocking it.
“See you around,” he said, climbing into his seat.
“When will that be?”
“Who knows?” Detective Myers said. He extended his hand, and Jane shook it. “Goodbye, Jane.”
“Goodbye, Gary. Have a safe trip.”
“I will. Call me if you’re ever in Liverpool.”
Jane smiled. The car drove away into the sunset as Jane watched Gary leave. So this was how it was going to end. Jane sighed. She was back to being by herself.
***
As Jane walked through the corridors of Charlie’s secondary school, her heart was clutched by sadness. This was where her son had spent his days before—before he had died. Jane swallowed at the bitter realization. The colorful corridors were painted in yellow, blue and green. Jane blinked back the tears. This time was easier than the last, so far. At least she hadn’t broken down in the corridor.
“Don’t remember his face,” she told herself. She heard footsteps pass her by. She opened her eyes and saw a group of middle schoolers make their way through the corridor. They carried bags on their shoulders. Her son could’ve been one of them.
Jane walked to the end of the corridor. She stopped before a grey door that was the staff room. She knocked on the door before sliding it open. A teacher on the right stood up.
“Good morning, I’m here to see Mrs. Minton,” Jane said.
The teacher flashed a smile at Jane and looked around.
“Jenny, somebody’s here to see you,” she called out across the room. Jane stood near the door. She heard footsteps click on the floor. A young woman emerged from behind the row of cubicles. She turned to Jane and smiled.
“Good morning,” she said.
“I’m Jane Grey, Charlie’s mother,” she said. Mrs. Minton’s eyes softened.
“This way, please,” she said, leading Jane to her cubicle. Jane passed a few teachers busy with work. Mrs. Minton pulled a chair for Jane to sit. “I’m sorry. We’re been renovating…”
“It’s okay,” Jane said.
“I found some of Charlie’s old books,” Mrs. Minton said. She opened the drawer beneath her desk and pulled out a stack of books. “I thought I should give them to you.”
She placed the books on the table. Jane pulled one of them out and flipped through it. The first was a folder filled with Charlie’s math assignments. It was filled with red marks. An involuntary smile touched Jane’s lips. She remembered how much Charlie hated math.
“Mom, can I skip maths lessons?” he’d asked her many times.
“No, you can’t,” Jane always said.
“Why? I hate it.”
“Maths is important,” Jane said. “You’ll get better at it.”
“I don’t like the maths teacher. She’s not nice.”
“Teachers never are. Charlie, you can’t skip school just because you hate the teacher,” Jane reasoned.
He sighed and followed it up with a frown.
“All right, if you get through maths this week, you can have ice cream on Sunday.”
“Saturday and Sunday,” he bargained.
“All right, Saturday and Sunday,” Jane said, throwing on her coat. “Now, hurry up. I have to get to work.”
Jane brushed the tear that touched her eye when she remembered that. It brought an involuntary smile.
“Are you all right?” Mrs. Minton asked.
“Yes. What is this?” Jane asked, staring at a piece of green paper.
Mrs. Minton picked up the sheet of paper and handed it to Jane.
“The students wrote a piece on what they wanted to be last year,” she said. “I thought you should have a look at it.”
Jane received the pages from Mrs. Minton and began reading through it. The first page was an abilities assessment test with results. It was followed by a Myers-Briggs personality test. The third page was a form filled out by the students. Jane’s eyes paused on the question.
What do you want to be? Why?
I want to be a detective. I’ve always thought being a detective is cool. My mother is a detective. She’s always at work and doesn’t get to spend much time with me, but I still think it’s cool. She’s finding the bad guys and kicking their asses. Though she’s alone, she does her best. I’ve heard her talk about cases ever since I was young. Sometimes she leaves at night and doesn’t come back until two days later. But I know what she does is very important. Detectives keep us safe. They find the bad guys and send them to jail. It’s not like a cop, but it’s cool.
I’ve always wanted to be a detective. I saw her work while I was growing up and I knew how much hard work it was. Her life is on the line every day but she does it anyway. I’m so proud of her and hope I can make her proud one day by being a detective.
The paper crumpled in Jane’s hands. Tears streamed down her face. She closed her eyes, squeezing more tears out of them.
“Mrs. Grey, are you okay?” Mrs. Minton asked. Jane raised her hand, trying to block the teacher, and sobbed silently. Mrs. Minton pulled out a few tissues from a box and passed them to Jane.
“I…I never knew,” Jane said, holding the paper close to her heart. Mrs. Minton nodded empathetically. “I didn’t know…he…what he thought…of me.”
Jane placed the pages on the desk and turned to Mrs. Minton. She wiped her tears using the tissues and waited for a few moments for her quivering to stop.
“Thank you for inviting me today,” she said. “I thought…I thought he hated me for leaving him alone.”
“Oh no. He was always telling his classmates about how great you were. That’s rare in kids this age. He idolized you.”
“I…” Jane sobbed. “I’m sorry.”
“Please take you time,” Mrs. Minton said. “Would you like some water?”
Jane nodded. Mrs. Minton to the end of the room and filled a glass with water from the tap. She placed it on the table. Jane calmed down and drank some water.
“Thank you for showing me this,” Jane said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re welcome,” Mrs. Minton said. “Thanks for coming.”
She walked out the door, leaving Jane with the papers. Jane followed with a smile on her face. They parted ways at the end of the corridor. When she stepped out of the building, the sun shone on her face and she felt its warmth after a long time.
Epilogue
One year later
St. Barnaby’s Primary School was nothing like St. Anne’s. For a start, there were no high-ceilinged gothic buildings with Victorian furniture and grand chandeliers. Public schools, Jane thought with a sigh. St. Barnaby’s was a modern public school built a little over ten years ago. The exterior was red brick while the corridors were painted white. It looked like Charlie’s middle school, only greyer.
Jane was in the middle of her English lesson with her new class of primary schoolers. The chairs were colorful, unlike the building. The classroom was eternally noisy. What a biology teacher was doing teaching English to first graders, she would never know. The only person she could blame for her decision to come to Liverpool was herself.
“Okay, can we talk about the book now?” Jane bellowed amidst a class of loud preschoolers. Nobody was listening. Jane banged her first on the table. A few heads turned. Being a teacher was getting boring real fast.
The door burst open. A young girl in blond pigtails and a pink dress stood at the door. Her dark eyes were filled with tears.
“Jenny…oh…Mrs. Grey…Jenny—” one of her students shrieked from the door. Daisy burst into tears. Six-year-olds.
“Daisy? What happened to Jenny?” Jane asked, rushing over to the door. Her wailing got louder. Jane fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Daisy?”
The little girl with blond pigtails pointed to the corridor. “Mrs. Grey—Jenny…she’s dead.”
The girl’s cries grew louder. Jane burst through the door and rushed into the girls’ bathroom. The door to the fourth cubicle was
open. The bathroom was stinking of a rotting corpse. Carefully, Jane approached the cubicle door and threw it wide open.
A corpse. The victim, as the six-year-old had identified, was named Jenny. Jenny Blackstone. Jane leaned closer to Jenny’s body, which lay next to the toilet seat. Jane inched closer and took her hand. Her body was stiff and lifeless. It was stinking. It had been a while since the girl’s death.
“Oh, heavens!” Mrs. Randall shrieked. Jane turned around to see her colleague standing at the entrance, covering her mouth with her hands.
“Call the police,” Jane said. Mrs. Randall’s shaky fingers dug into her pocket for her phone. She dropped it on the floor, then hurriedly picked the phone back up and dialed.
A few minutes later, a long shadow stretched over Jane. The familiar scent of cigarette smoke filtered through her nostrils. She turned. Their eyes met. Again. A long smile curved on Jane’s lips. Gary Myers. With him stood another policeman who rushed in.
“Good morning, Detective,” Jane said, her voice serious. He looked shocked for a moment before he breathed and continued towards her.
“Good morning, Ms. Grey,” he said. He was surprised to see her but he had things to take care of.
Gary Myers bent down to take a look at the victim.
“The victim’s name is Jenny Blackstone. Age six. Cause of death is most likely carbon monoxide poisoning. Rigor mortis has set in so the death occurred less than seventy-two hours ago. The body was discovered by one of my students when she went to the toilet—”
Gary Myers nodded.
Detective Myers finished evacuating everybody. The rest of the police team came around and closed off the bathroom. Jane headed back to class. During the lunch break, she heard a knock at her door.
“Fancy seeing you in Liverpool.” It was Gary.
“Nice to see you, Gary,” Jane said, a huge grin filling her face.
“So, why did you decide to come to Liverpool?” he said, examining the body.
“I got a new job.”
“Got bored, huh?”
“I did.”
“When did you arrive?”
“It hasn’t been long,” Jane said.
“Have you had a chance to look around?”
“Not yet.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t know your number.”
He grabbed a pen from the desk and wrote it down on a piece of paper. “Here you go.”
Jane looked at it.
“So, what’re you gonna do with it?”
“I was wondering, are you free this Saturday?” Jane asked.
“I am,” Detective Myers said, his eyebrows shooting. “Coffee or dinner?”
“Dinner,” Jane said. “And let’s not talk about corpses this time.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
P. Wish is an author of psychological thrillers and mysteries. She graduated with an honors degree in Law from the University of Manchester, UK. The Doppelgänger, her debut novel was published in 2016. Visit her personal blog and books page for more information.
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OTHER BOOKS
THE DOPPELGANGER:
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