Page 56 of Worse Than Murder
‘The father. The uncle. The family friend. The neighbour. The trusted teacher,’ Tania says.
‘Me? You think I took them? That’s ridic… why? Why would I do that? What’s my motive?’
‘You have an interest in people younger than you.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s… once. That happened once. And the person in question was a boy. I’m gay. I’ve always been gay. Why would I be interested in twin six-year-old girls? Are you one of those people who think all gay men are sexual predators or paedophiles? I thought we’d left the Dark Ages behind.’
I glare at Damien. I don’t see a potential killer. I see a sad and lonely individual. We’ve asked him enough and I wrap up the interview. It’s clear Tania wants to ask him more, but I fear it would end up in an argument. I thank him for his time, apologise for disturbing him while he’s working, and even shake his hand on the doorstep. I’m not usually so pleasant.
It’s not until we’re travelling back to High Chapel at warp speed that Tania asks me what I think of Damien.
‘He’s living a very solitary life, isn’t he?’
‘Self-induced,’ Tania says.
‘Hmm,’ It’s all I can think of to say.
‘What?’
‘Nothing. Just thinking.’
‘Is he a suspect?’
‘No. Though, it’s interesting what he said about Jennifer just before the school broke up for the summer holiday. She was clearly in pain. I wonder what happened to her.’
‘You think she was beaten?’
‘Someone had hurt her, and she hadn’t told her teacher about it, which suggests to me it wasn’t a simple accident and it involved someone close, someone who perhaps told her not to say anything to anyone.’
‘A secret between Daddy and his special little girl?’ Tania asks.
‘That’s what I’m thinking.’
‘Where to from here?’
‘I need to go for a run,’ I’m feeling tense and claustrophobic.
‘Do you think better when you’re running?’
I don’t answer that. I turn to look out of the window and watch a blurred landscape rush by. I don’t think better when I’m running. I run in order to silence the dark, disturbing, horrific, chilling thoughts that won’t leave me the fuck alone. And now, on top of reliving my mum and nephews being killed, I’ve got the beautiful and smiling Celia and Jennifer setting up home in my mind, and the thoughts of the evil they witnessed in their final minutes.
I close my eyes and wish someone would invent something to return the brain to its factory settings.
There’s something about running hard and far that I find addictive. My legs pound the rough terrain, I inhale sharply and blow out fiercely. My mind banishes the darkness as it concentrates on my breathing. I can understand why, after everything he’d been through, Forrest Gump just felt like running. There are times when I don’t want to turn and head back to the restaurant. What would it be like if I never stopped?
But I always stop. Something clicks in my mind that tells me I’ve run far enough, and it’s time to turn back. I hate that I give in to that voice every single time.
I slow down and take in the sight of the divers from the North West Police Underwater Search and Marine Unit suiting up. There’s a boat in place ready to be sent out. Someone is rigging what looks like a torpedo on the back of the boat. Curiosity gets the better of me and I go for a closer look.
‘Enjoy your run?’
I jump and turn around. Inspector Gill Forsyth has appeared out of nowhere.
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘I’m more of a hiker, myself,’ she says. ‘Every day off I throw on the walking boots and the cargo trousers and I’m all over the hills.’
‘Perfect location for it.’
