Page 20 of The Serial Killer's Sister
‘I wasn’t sure enough that I was right. I didn’t want to waste police time – not when you’re so stretched.’ Our eyes lock and although it’s unspoken, I sense battle lines have been drawn.
‘Well, were you? Right, I mean?’
I avert my gaze. ‘It would appear so.’ Telling DI Walker more about the treasure hunt game isn’t something I can hold back any longer. I need to explain it because I know it’s key to finding Henry. ‘Welcome to The Hunt, detective,’ I say, forcing a smile. ‘If I don’t follow the rules, bad things happen.’ I turn away from him, begin walking further down the lawns towards the treeline. I hear his heavy thudding footsteps and then he’s beside me, doing a funny kind of side-step so he can talk and watch me at the same time. I wonder what he’s thinking – if he suspects I’m holding back.
‘Is it possible that you didn’t follow the rules before, and that’s why he murdered the five women?’
‘Oh, wow.’ I stop dead. ‘You believe it’s my fault those women died?’
‘No. Not your fault. I’m seeking a reason why he’s been doing it. You saying bad things happen if you don’t follow the rules strongly suggests a cause; that’s all I’m saying.’
I start off again, ducking between a gap in the hedges. I swear it’s the same gap we used to walk through before when we were sneaking off for a forbidden cigarette by the lake. Each step I take, the heavier I feel. By the time I reach the bridge, the weight will be too much to bear.
‘There haven’t been any games since leaving here,’ I say, finally. ‘And besides, the point of the games was to hide something of importance for the other to find. And when his game was ignored once before, it was someoneimportant that got hurt. He wouldn’t choose a random person with no link to me to kill. It’s not his style. It would have to be someone I loved.’
‘Like Ross.’
I shudder. ‘Yes, like Ross.’
We’re at the bridge that spans the narrowest part of the lake. I sit in the middle of the stone wall and wait for DI Walker to do the same. He hitches his trouser legs up so he can bend his knees easily, then plonks down beside me. We both watch an electric-blue dragonfly hover between us, its wings creating a sound like a tiny drill. This was always my favourite spot to come when I wanted to be alone. Somewhere I could give space to my thoughts and allow them to ‘be’. Once I’d acknowledged them, they would leave my overcrowded head and blow away on the breeze across the water. In all the years of therapy that followed my time at Finley Hall, I never found a better way to manage my darker thoughts than that.
It must be the nostalgia of this spot; I hold my arm out to DI Walker now and uncurl my fingers to reveal the toy.
‘You’d best bag this.’ The pulse in my throat throbs as I watch for his reaction.
‘What is it?’ He pulls a glove from the inside pocket of his jacket and takes it.
‘How many of those gloves do you have stuffed in your pockets?’
He laughs. ‘Always be prepared.’
‘And it’s a Tamagotchi,’ I say. ‘A craze around the time we lived at this place.’
‘Ahh, yes.’ He nods, gives a half-smile as he holds it up, examining it. ‘I remember these little buggers. Virtual pets. You had to remember to feed them and play with them, or they’d die.’
‘Yep. Henry used this one, or one like it anyway, as a warning.’
‘How?’
‘I found a new riddle one morning and just decided I wasn’t going to play any more. Me and my friend carried on with our day. We didn’t even look at the clue.’
‘I assume you’d never ignored one before?’
‘No. I’d wanted to, but Henry … well, Henry was persuasive.’
‘He didn’t like being ignored.’
‘He did not.’ I turn around and look over the bridge into the rippling water. ‘That’s where …’ I take a steadying breath. ‘That’s where he left her.’ I point below and to the side – by the foot of the bridge.
‘Your friend died?’ DI Walker’s eye widen.
‘No, no. She was hurt, knocked unconscious.’ I suck in a lungful of air, the detective’s assumption hitting me hard. ‘I guess there’s a possibility he’dintendedto kill her, though. I never thought about it like that. We assumed it was a warning and we never tested him again.’
‘Are you still friends with … what was her name?’
‘Kirsty,’ I say, then quickly add, ‘we lost contact after this place. Everyone scattered – there was an online group someone started up in the early days, but that petered out pretty quick. She wasn’t on there, though, as far as I remember.’
‘You didn’t ever try to look her up again? Make sure she was okay?’
