Insane - Who Are You To Judge? (Gripping Psychological Thriller)

Chapter 57 - Avery

I shake the spiders from my back as I pull away from the estate agent. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I'm stopped briefly, when I see Him coming down the stairs. If it had been only a few minutes earlier, I would have been waiting there for Him. He looks so happy, so perfect. But I can't pretend I didn't see what I just did.

I am jolted back into the present by a road-rage driver slamming on his horn at me. I suppose it isn't completely unwarranted, since I am positioned right in the middle of the road.

I try and get it out of my head as I drive home, but I fail. I knew I'd fail. I've never been able to prohibit my imagination from running wild whenever I get new, unexpected information. I try and focus on curling up in a blanket, watching crappy TV and wasting my entire afternoon away. Yes, that will make me feel better.

My plans are squashed as soon as I turn the corner onto my street.

Only a few doors down from my house, there is a police car parked and a policeman speaking with one of my neighbours. Not just any policeman, though. He is one of the detectives working my case.

I swallow my anxiety and park my car out the front of my house, as I normally would. I then walk straight up to my door without giving my eyes over to their interaction for even a second. As I unlock the door, I can see him looking at me, though. He knows I'm home. Which means it surely won't be long until I have a very similar knock at my door.

It looks like this bastard is really pulling out all the stops. Mailing a letter to the police? And making a 999 call? From my street, no less. It really does make me wonder what they're up to.

I haven't been able to find what was said on the call yet, but I've managed to sneak a look at the letter. To be honest, it just confused me even more. What on earth are they planning? It's not like the letter is necessarily leading the police to me specifically, it's just taunting them. I suppose the phone call rings a little too close to home, but still the detective is speaking with all of my neighbours.

Perhaps they're just pushing the cops in my direction, running circles around me until I'm the only one that's left.

There's a knock at my door and I quickly slam my laptop closed – I don't think the detective would be best pleased by discovering my surveillance access.

I walk over to the door and stand still in front of it. Taking in a deep breath I calm myself. Be cool, Avery. Be cool. Then, with a big smile painted on my face I open the door.

"Hi," the detective says as soon as the door is ajar. "I am Detective Sergeant Flynn."

I look at him with a concerned expression. "Hello, detective. What can I help you with?"

"There was a phone call placed to 999 last night at eleven-fifty, that we believe is significant to an ongoing investigation. We traced the phone's location to this street and so I just wanted to ask you a few questions."

"Absolutely," I respond in my best Good Samaritan voice. "Would you like to come inside?"

He waves off my invitation. "That's okay, I only have a few questions. Firstly, I want to know if you made a phone call to emergency services, or if you may know who did?"

I shake my head slowly. "No, detective, I was upstairs and in bed at that time. My—" I stumble slightly, this is the first time I have had to speak about him to someone else, "My boyfriend stayed over last night. We were both in bed at eleven because we had to be up early for work."

Detective...Flynn, was it? He bobs his head and asks, "Is there any way your boyfriend could have placed the call?"

At the time of the phone call, I was on my way to Old Oak Street, but there's no way he's going to find that out. A horrible thought flashes across my vision – he was at my house. Alone. "No, not that I know of. I'm sorry I can't be more help," I quickly respond, erasing the thought from my mind.

"That's okay. Would you be able to listen to this recording and tell me if you recognise the voice?"

I lean my head across the threshold, so that I'm in a better position for listening. My enthusiasm to help isn't an act, now. I really am eager to find out if I recognise the voice. This will be the first time that I hear that bastard's voice. I bet it sounds ugly.

A muffled, robotic voice whispers, "I've killed people. I've killed people and I'm going to do it again and again and again. You pigs don't stand any chance of finding me. You're never going to find me."

The detective then pauses the recording.

He's waiting for my answer, but I am too puzzled by the phone call to even begin to process the voice.

Of course, the voice is computerised so that it is unrecognisable, so I suppose that part is kind of moot. But no one ever sounds the same through a computer. Perhaps I could figure out who it is...

"Ma'am." The detective calls me away from my daze. "Ma'am, do you recognise the voice?"

"Oh, sorry. No I don't."

He glances down, disappointed. "Okay, thank you for your time." He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small piece of card. "Here are my details. If you ever think of anything else, or have any more information, please call me." The intense look in his eyes makes me uneasy. I thought the presence of an officer was supposed to make you feel safe.

Well, I suppose that may go for people who he's protecting, not the people he's protecting against.

I wave goodbye to the detective and he grabs his beer-belly, waddling off down the street to the next house.

What the hell is this person up to? Apart from the phone tracking, neither the letter nor the call has led the police to me. Are they just going for the slow burn? Are they just trying to freak me out? Or maybe they're building me up, piece by piece, so that they can tap the top and I'll come tumbling down.