Читать книгу A Room Full of Killers - Michael Wood - Страница 15

The staffroom was usually a quiet, lifeless room. As their breaks were staggered there were rarely more than two or three people there at any one time. It was a case of make a coffee, drink your coffee, rinse your cup, then leave. The room wasn’t enticing either. Painted in drab creams and browns almost a decade before, it was dirty and there was a smell of rubbish coming from an overflowing bin. The painted door was covered in handprints, the mis-matched chairs were rickety and the table wonky. Even the microwave was ancient and when in use loud enough to shake the foundations.

Now, it was a buzz of conversation and gossip as officers, cleaners, and cooks gathered to talk about what had occurred overnight.

‘You know what he did, that Ryan Asher, don’t you? He killed his grandparents. I remember reading about it in The Sun – he beat them to a pulp, the bastard.’

‘He got what he deserved then, didn’t he? Some of the lads in here – locking up’s too good for them. They ought to bring back hanging for some of these killers,’ one of the cleaners, Roberta Del Mar said. ‘I hate having to go in that recreation room, especially when they’re in there. I just give it a quick flick then come straight out.’ She shuddered at the memory.

The door opened and a slim, short officer in her mid-twenties entered the room, closing the door behind her.

‘Rebecca, I didn’t know you were back,’ Doris Walker said, cheering up at the sight of one of her favourite co-workers.

‘I came back yesterday.’ She smiled.

‘You picked a great time, didn’t you? What’s going on out there?’

‘The police have arrived and they’ve sealed off the room. The inmates are all in the dining room.’

‘I hope they’re not making a mess,’ Roberta said. ‘I only polished that floor last night.’

‘Is it true he was stabbed twenty times?’ Doris asked.

‘I’ve no idea. Nobody’s saying anything. The police are all talking in hushed tones.’

‘They would do,’ Roberta said, taking another biscuit from the tin and dipping it in her tea. ‘When we were burgled a few years ago and the coppers came out, I heard a few of them whispering. They were only criticizing my carpet, cheeky buggers.’

‘I hope you put a complaint in,’ Doris said.

‘I bloody did. I got a half-hearted apology from some short woman in a hat about three sizes too big.’

‘They’ll have a lot to criticize about this place. It’s a dump,’ Rebecca said.

‘Don’t go looking at me. I work my fingers to the bone here,’ Roberta defended herself. ‘I can only work with the equipment I’m given. I’ve been asking for a new mop for three months.’

‘Did you see the body?’ Doris asked Rebecca eagerly, wanting to get back onto the more exciting topic.

‘No. You should have seen Oliver’s face though; he was so white, bless him. He could have had a heart attack.’

‘Who do they think’s done it?’

‘I’ve no idea. It’s got to be one of the other inmates though, hasn’t it? They’ve all got form,’ Rebecca added.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t that lad with the Liverpool accent,’ Roberta said.

‘What makes you think it’s him?’

‘Well, you’ve only got to look at him. He’s a cocky little shit in my book.’

‘To be honest,’ Doris began, ‘I blame the parents, these days. They don’t correct their kids. If they gave them a slap from time to time instead of pandering to them the country wouldn’t be in the state it’s in. My dad hit me when I was a lass. I knew never to step out of line. It didn’t do me any harm.’

‘Parents don’t hit their children anymore,’ Rebecca said, looking shocked. She was a generation younger than the cook and the cleaner and, with a new-born, the thought of raising a hand to her child sent a shiver down her spine.

‘And that’s why some of them grow up to be killers, like that Callum Nixon,’ Roberta said. ‘I’ve seen those profiling programmes on Sky.’

‘So, tell me about that new baby of yours, Rebecca,’ Doris said. She saw how Rebecca was getting uncomfortable about the topic of children becoming killers and decided to give the new mum a break. ‘Keeping you awake at night?’

Kate Moloney was stood at the window in her office looking out at the lawn. Her face was its usual stony expression, giving nothing away. She knew the people of Sheffield didn’t want a youth prison in their city.

Over the years there had been a number of campaigns to have Starling House closed down. When a high-profile murder case hit the headlines, and the perpetrator was under the age of eighteen, it was obvious he would end up here. Ryan Asher was such a child. He had been snuck in under cover of night like a secret SAS mission, and, up to now, his presence had gone undetected. Now he was dead, the entire country would know where he had been sent following his very public trial.

The firm knock on the door brought Kate out of her thoughts. She sat down behind her desk and tried to look busy. She had a difficult job and could never allow her emotions to show through – something she perceived as a weakness. She presented herself to the world as cold and hard-hearted. It wasn’t easy to keep up but it worked.

‘Come in.’

The door opened and Oliver Byron poked his head through the small gap. ‘Have you got a minute?’

‘Yes. Come on in. How are you feeling now?’

Oliver was a tall and wiry man in his late-forties. He was dedicated and efficient. As head of officers, it was his duty to sort out any disputes before Kate became involved. Oliver was the man for the job. He didn’t stand for any nonsense and soon ironed out any issues the officers had. It wasn’t easy to pacify the staff as well as keep the inmates in line but Oliver was more than capable.

‘I’m OK,’ he said, though his colour hadn’t come back. He sat down with a heavy sigh and took a deep breath. ‘I think the main detective in charge has arrived.’

‘Oh.’

‘They’ve sent DCI Matilda Darke. You’ve heard of her, I’m guessing.’

‘Isn’t she the one who couldn’t find Carl Meagan?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘Oh, bloody hell.’ Kate rolled her eyes.

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.’

‘It’s not that. I think the press like to follow DCI Darke around just to see if she’ll slip-up again. I don’t want them sniffing around here,’ she said, lowering her voice.

‘I think it’s safe to say the press are going to be crawling over each other to get here. What are we going to do, Kate?’

‘About what?’

Oliver looked at her with a furrowed brow. Was she in denial about what had happened in the past few hours? ‘Ryan Asher has been murdered. We’ve got seven obvious suspects. Police and press are going to be swarming for days, weeks, months even. We’re going to be under some intense scrutiny.’

Kate took a deep breath while she took his words on board. ‘Starling House has been open for almost twenty years. In that time, we have not had a single issue to bring this place into disrepute. Yes, we have a high turnover of staff, and, yes, there have been some problems, but we have always managed to sort them out internally and with the highest professional standards.’

Kate’s voice crackled with tension and nerves. She may have said the words but did she believe them herself?

‘Kate, I don’t want to speak out of line here, but you’re going to need to practise that speech a few more times before the detectives turn up.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You sound like you’re giving a statement you don’t believe. You sound like you’re hiding something.’

Kate’s eyes widened. ‘I have nothing to hide,’ she said with severe conviction.

‘What about Elly Caine?’

‘Elly Caine has no bearing on what has happened.’

‘If the police don’t dig her up then the press will. You know they’ll go over everything with a fine-tooth comb. They’ll want to tear this place apart.’

‘Oliver—’

A knock on the door silenced Kate. The manager and head of officers looked at each other. They both recognized the heavy knock of an official. There was a detective behind the door. The nightmare was about to begin.

‘Come in,’ Kate managed to force out despite her rapidly drying throat.

The door opened and a dishevelled-looking woman entered followed by what seemed to be a male model.

‘I’m DCI Darke and this is DC Fleming from South Yorkshire Police. Kate Moloney?’

‘That’s right. Please, come on in. Can I get you a drink of tea or something?’

‘Tea would be nice, thank you.’

While Matilda and Rory took their seats, Kate got on the phone and ordered drinks from her secretary.

‘I’d just like to say,’ Kate began, fiddling with the items of stationery on her desk. ‘What happened here is completely out of the blue. We operate a zero tolerance policy, and my staff and myself will offer you our total cooperation.’

‘Thank you. That’s good to know,’ Matilda responded, slightly perplexed by Kate’s nervous demeanour. ‘I’m going to need to see the files on all the inmates.’

‘They are confidential.’

So much for total cooperation.

‘Ms Moloney—’

‘Kate, please.’

‘Kate. This is a murder investigation and you have seven convicted murderers living on-site. I need to know who I’m dealing with before I interview them. Obviously, we will have our own files on the boys, but they’ll be coming from different police forces around the country and could take some time. Besides, we know all about confidentiality. My team is hand-picked and know how to deal with sensitive information.’

‘I understand all that … ’

‘I could obtain a warrant from the magistrate’s court, but I really don’t want to go down that route.’ Matilda added, her voice growing louder and sterner with every sentence.

‘Of course. I’ll get whatever you need,’ Kate relented with a painful smile.

‘I’ll need the files on your staff too.’

‘Now steady on—’ Oliver Byron chimed in.

‘And you are?’ Matilda asked, looking across at the grey-haired man with the shocked expression on his face.

‘Oliver Byron. I’m head of officers here. Why do you want to see the staff files?’

‘Mr Byron, my job is to interview everyone involved, and eliminate where possible. My team will be interviewing everybody on-site. That includes all staff, all officers, yourself, and even Ms Moloney.’

Kate stood up. ‘Oliver, it’s fine. DCI Darke, I’m sorry. As I’m sure you can guess, emotions are running high at present. Don’t worry, we will all cooperate with your investigations.’

‘I appreciate that. I’ll need our forensics team to go through the CCTV footage from all the cameras throughout the building.’

Matilda noticed Kate and Oliver exchange glances briefly. For a single moment, they looked worried.

‘Is that a problem?’

‘No.’ Kate smiled nervously. ‘Not a problem at all.’

‘Thank you. I’ll need a room for my officers to work in while we’re here. Would that be possible?’

‘That’s not a problem. We have a boardroom we use for staff meetings. Oliver, can you make sure it’s suitable for DCI Darke and her team?’

‘Of course,’ he said reluctantly.

‘Thank you. Now, what can you tell me about Ryan Asher?’ Matilda leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. She was going to be here for a while so she may as well make herself comfortable.

‘There’s not much I can tell you. He only arrived on Sunday night. I met with him on Monday morning. Told him about the place, what would be expected of him; showed him around and that was it.’

‘How did he seem?’

‘Like all the other boys who arrive here, he was nervous. He didn’t speak much, but he looked like he was paying attention.’

‘You know of his crime?’

‘Of course. I was sent his file before he arrived.’

‘What did you think of him?’

‘From my point of view he was another inmate. His crime has nothing to do with me. Like all the boys.’

‘You could get past what he had been convicted of?’

‘Yes. I look at it this way: without these boys being here I would be out of a job. They’re here, so am I. It’s that simple.’

A tiny knock and the door opened to reveal an elderly woman struggling under the weight of a tea tray. Rory jumped up to take it from her. She thanked him and left, closing the door behind her.

‘Shall I be mother?’ Rory asked.

Matilda tried to hide her smile. Kate’s face remained solid stone.

‘Did he speak to any of the other boys while he was here?’

‘Yes. I believe he spoke to all of them at some point.’

‘Any in particular?’

‘I saw him deep in conversation with Lee Marriott in the dining room last night.’

‘Lee?’

‘Yes. He was—’

‘I know of Lee Marriott, thank you.’ Matilda said, making a note of his name.

‘DCI Darke, the boys are currently all locked in the dining room. How long will it be before they’re allowed out?’

‘Until we’ve interviewed and been able to eliminate them from our enquiries. Of course the recreation room is going to be out of bounds for the foreseeable future.’

‘Of course.’

‘Is there anything you think we should know about any of the boys or the staff before we get started?’

Silence. There was a look on Kate’s face that Matilda couldn’t quite make out. An expression flitted across it and disappeared just as quickly. Her stoical persona, for a split second, had dropped. Why? Had Matilda’s question conjured up something she wanted to keep private? Matilda decided not to push it – not yet. Whatever secrets were buried within these thick stone walls, Matilda would uncover.