A Room Full of Killers. Michael Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ a few PCs. I think the remainder of the staff are in the staffroom. Aaron’s told them all to stay there until you decided what you want to do.’

      ‘Good. So what—?’

      ‘Speaking of Aaron – Katrina’s pregnant. Can you believe that? I didn’t think he had it in him.’

      ‘That’s brilliant news,’ Adele chimed in. ‘I know they’ve been trying for ages. Aaron said Katrina’s had a few miscarriages in the past. How far gone is she?’

      ‘About three months I think he said.’

      ‘Oh I am pleased. Do they know what they’re having yet? I’ll have to—’

      ‘Any chance of getting back on topic here?’ Matilda interrupted. ‘Rory, what do we know so far?’

      They turned down corridor after corridor. Rory stopped suddenly at one point to get his bearings.

      ‘Well, the young lad is Ryan Asher. He arrived on Sunday night under the cover of darkness by all accounts. Very military. He was locked in his room at nine o’clock last night, which is normal, and this morning he was found dead on the pool table in the rec. room.’

      ‘Who found him?’

      Rory looked at his notebook. ‘One of the senior officers, an Oliver Byron. Apparently, when Ryan didn’t turn up to breakfast Mr Byron went looking for him and discovered him in the recreation room.’

      They arrived at the room which had been sealed off by tape. Inside, a team of forensic officers was examining the scene. Floodlights had been erected and white suited CSIs were busy looking for evidence. Adele slipped into a blue forensic suit and went to join her assistant, Victoria Pinder, who had arrived shortly beforehand and was busy laying foot plates on the floor.

      ‘Rory,’ Matilda took the young DC to one side and lowered her voice. ‘The press is going to be all over this but I don’t want anything getting out until it’s absolutely necessary. Get uniform to give you a hand and move all the vehicles at the front to the back of the building. I don’t want photographers taking snapshots and making up their own stories.’

      ‘Will do. Oh, by the way, the ACC is on her way over.’

      ‘I thought she would be. Thanks for the heads-up.’

      The Assistant Chief Constable rarely attended a crime scene. The fact she was on her way was testament to how serious this case was going to be. Obviously, every murder was serious, but this was Starling House. The place was already swarming with killers. This is the kind of case tabloids have wet dreams about.

      DS Sian Mills handed Matilda a forensic suit and waited while the senior officer struggled to get into it. Once inside the recreation room, Matilda stood in silence and surveyed the scene. She wanted to take it all in: the dimensions, the furniture, the layout. This room was going to be vital in solving this case, she could feel it.

      It was a large room at the back of Starling House and looked out onto a wide open space of well-kept garden. The room was decorated in magnolia and the carpet was hard-wearing, but looked tired. There were scuff marks on the walls, and the carpet was stained. In the corner of the high ceiling, a few dark cobwebs hung down, evidence of a lack of regular cleaning.

      ‘Right, Sian, talk me through it.’

      ‘Well, I’m sure you know who Ryan Asher is.’

      ‘Is there anyone in this country who doesn’t?’

      ‘Sadly, I did have to explain him to Rory. Anyway, Ryan Asher arrived on Sunday night. He spent the whole day yesterday being shown around, introduced to the various members of staff and the other boys. In the evening he and the others spent a few hours in here playing pool, watching TV or what have you, and then they were tucked up in bed by nine o’clock.’

      ‘Fast forward to this morning.’

      ‘The doors are unlocked and the boys make their way to the dining room for breakfast. However, one of them is missing. Off goes an officer to find him, and there he is.’ Sian pointed to the pool table.

      Lying on his back in the centre of the pool table was the cold, lifeless body of fifteen-year-old Ryan Asher. He had been posed: legs straight and arms by his sides. His body was saturated in his blood, which had run into the pockets of the pool table and dripped onto the floor.

      Matilda slowly approached the table. It was never easy attending a crime scene. It didn’t matter who the victim was: a person; a former human being with feelings and emotions who had been subjected to the most heinous crime imaginable. Their life had been tragically stolen from them and their body just dumped. The fact the body, in this instance, was that of a convicted killer made no difference. He was still someone’s son.

      Matilda looked down at the pale face of Ryan Asher. He looked much younger than his fifteen years. His eyes were closed. He looked at peace, as if he were in a deep sleep. The splashes and flecks of blood on his face told her he would never be waking up.

      ‘I’ve counted twelve stab wounds,’ Adele said, breaking the silence.

      ‘Jesus.’

      ‘I know. A frenzied attack.’

      ‘Was he killed here?’

      ‘Yes. There’s far too much blood around to suggest otherwise. A lot has been soaked up in the – what is this, felt?’ she asked stroking the pool table.

      ‘Baize,’ Victoria Pinder replied.

      ‘What is baize?’

      ‘It’s a felt-like woollen material.’

      ‘What’s the difference between felt and baize?’

      ‘Can we do this another time?’ Matilda interrupted.

      ‘Sorry. Anyway, best guess is he was laid out on the pool table and stabbed to death.’

      ‘Surely he didn’t voluntarily lie down on the table while someone stabbed him.’

      ‘I don’t know about that. He may have been drugged. We’ll have to wait for toxicology before we find out.’

      ‘Any sign of a murder weapon?’

      ‘Not so far. The stabs are large and appear to be very deep. I’d say you’re looking for a seven-inch blade, smooth edges. A kitchen carving knife, perhaps.’

      ‘There are no splatter marks,’ Matilda said, looking down at the pool of blood on the floor. ‘It’s not been smudged in any way. It’s like he just bled out while lying on the table.’

      ‘It does look like it’s been staged, doesn’t it?’

      ‘I don’t like the feel of this at all.’ Matilda shuddered. ‘Sian, were those doors locked?’ she asked, moving away from the table and indicating the patio doors.

      ‘Yes. They’re double-bolted and there’s an alarm too. If they’re tampered with in any way, it’ll go off.’

      ‘And did it?’

      ‘No.’

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