Page 134 of Dying Truth
‘Stace, what the bloody hell are you—’
‘I need to talk to you,’ she said, guiding him to the edge of the room.
He took out his phone. ‘That’s what these are for, Stace,’ he said, sarcastically.
‘Yeah if they’re switched on, you moron,’ she replied.
He checked. Damn, he’d run out of charge, again.
‘You sure this is a memorial service?’ Stacey asked.
Dawson saw her point. The level of excitement was palpable, kids running round, eager to perform, take their moment in the spotlight, impress their teachers, peers and parents.
He shook his head. As yet he’d heard no mention of any of the names of their victims.
‘Mrs Forbes came to the station to see you,’ Stacey said.
The name sounded familiar.
‘Harrison Forbes, the third kid who left term part way through.’
‘Got it,’ he said and then opened his eyes wide. ‘She came in to the station?’
‘Oh yeah, and she hasn’t signed any non-disclosure agreement, she’s just terrified that they’ll try and get her son again,’ Stacey said. ‘Apparently it doesn’t end if a kid refuses the—’
‘Whoa, back up, Stace. What do you mean, go after him again?’ Dawson asked.
So far, he’d found a girl who had almost died from a severe asthma attack, a teenager on life support after trying to drink himself to death, and now it looked like his instinct had been right about Harrison Forbes. For a bunch of clubs that weren’t supposed to exist any more they sure were leaving a lot of casualties behind.
‘Hockey accident that ended his career as a long distance runner. He’s in a wheelchair for life. And then a white transit van tries to run the entire family off the road the day they pick him up from hospital. She’s terrified that the Spades will find out where he lives. It’s all about this bloody honour code. If you refuse to join it’s a lifelong stain which—’
‘Oh shit,’ Dawson said, as the events of the week caught up with the words that were coming out of his colleague’s mouth.
‘What?’ Stacey asked.
‘Geoffrey,’ he said, looking around, urgently. ‘Geoffrey Piggott refused the card.’
Ninety-Five
‘So, you’re thinking Thorpe could have murdered Lorraine in a jealous rage?’ Kim clarified with Bryant as they headed towards the concert hall.
‘Don’t you?’
Kim shook her head. ‘Did you detect any rage when he was talking?’
‘To be fair he’s had a few years to calm down.’
Kim shook her head. ‘I see your point, but he was too open about his feelings,’ she said, passing the door to the backstage area.
‘Reverse psychology?’ Bryant suggested.
Kim shrugged. It was possible, but she wasn’t really listening.
‘Did you hear that?’ she asked her colleague as she stopped walking.
‘Err… no, because I was talking to…’ he paused as the call sounded again. ‘But I heard it that time.’
They were right outside the door to the concert preparation area and someone had called for Saffie Winters. Twice.
