MirrorMirror

27 / The Mission

Why ask who?

Don't you know?

"No," Cassidy said. "No one does. They never found out who... did it."

Who killed me.

Murdered me.

You can say it.

"They never caught the person who... killed you."

Not all killings were murder. Some were accidental or self-defence. Some were the result of drunken antics gone wrong. Amy was none of those. She was murdered. He couldn't bring himself to utter the word. It felt as if he were resurrecting the event. It felt as if he held the murder weapon himself.

Oh.

He could imagine her head hanging forward. Her shoulders slumping. The dejection on her face. She would hope justice had been done. It hadn't. Her killer was still on the loose. They may have stuck again, taking the life of another.

Murdering them.

"I'm sorry."

Stop apologising.

Please.

You're not to blame.

"I know. I just feel bad for you."

You said.

Thanks.

You don't need to.

I'm dead. That's it.

It was difficult not to apologise. He wasn't saying sorry for his own actions or words. It wasn't really an apology at all. It was more for comfort. For understanding and solidarity.

"I have an idea," he said. "Wait there."

He knew it was a stupid thing to say as soon as he walked through the doorway onto the landing. Where else was she going to wait? Don't wander off! Hold tight and stay put!

Fucking Muppet.

He trotted down the stairs, avoiding seven, and jogged into eh living room.

Where was it? What had he...? When did...?

Oh yes.

He reached down the side of the sofa and picked up his laptop. The best way to inform her, and him, was to look on the internet. The full part story would be there. He lifted the lid as he walked, his return slower than his descent. He'd prefer to slip and break his arm than damage his laptop, a strange sense of priorities when he thought about it. So, he didn't think about it.

The screen was on and waiting for his fingerprint by the time he was back in front of the mirror.

Zzzzz

"Hilarious."

Yes, I am.

Don't forget it.

"How could I? Anyway. About my idea."

What is it?

"Trust me. Google is our friend."

"Google? You mean the search engine?"

Cassidy thought back to when Amy had died. He hadn't taken into account the advances in technology that had occurred since then. Luckily, seven years wasn't seventy, so laptops, the internet and mobile phones all existed then and, in the main, had advanced little since. Apart from being more powerful, they were still predominantly the same. If the time difference had been greater, he might have been speaking Klingon for all the understanding she'd have.