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

Chapter 82 - Avery

"Miss Blake? Miss Blake?" Detective Flynn calls me out of my daze and back into the hostile embrace of the interrogation room.

"Sorry, what was the question?" I ask, although my enthusiasm is lacking.

"It wasn't a question – I was going back over your statement and I wanted you to confirm the details."

I nod my head and he looks down at his notepad.

"So, you've been seeing this man for nearly five months. He took you to this abandoned house – why?"

I gulp down the memory. "Um, he said he discovered it a couple months back and thought it was a cool place. He's always been fascinated by morbid stuff like that. I never understood it. He wanted to show it to me."

"Right, okay. And then he tried to have sex with you and you refused. When you refused him, that's when he started to become aggressive."

I bob my head and answer shakily, "Yes, that's when he forced himself on me."

"Yes okay," Detective Flynn agrees and continues. "This is when things progressed and he threw himself on top of you and began strangling you. When he pulled out the knife you managed to throw him off. How did you have the strength to do that?"

Stroking my sore throat, I shrug. "I don't know. I suppose it's the adrenaline? I read once that we all have a warrior gene that instigates the fight or flight response. Some mothers have lifted entire cars up because their babies are trapped under it. I guess this kicked in and my response was fight."

"Okay. When you got him off you he came at you with the knife, you then grabbed his hand with the knife in and twisted it so that he dropped it. What made you pick up the knife?"

"I had a sudden realisation that it was me or him. I couldn't understand what had come over him – he's always been such a loving and caring man. I'd never seen this side of him before. I was so scared, I didn't know what else I could do. I certainly couldn't fight him – he'd easily beat me. I didn't see any other option." I stutter and quickly add, "I didn't think he'd die...I just wanted to injure him so I could get away."

"I understand. How long after you stabbed him, did you call 999?"

"Oh I don't know, time didn't really mean much in that moment. If I had to make a guess, I suppose about two minutes? Once I had processed what had happened, I got straight on the phone to you."

"Thank you, Avery. One finally question, can you please confirm that this is the identity of the man you have been seeing since the beginning of April?"

I lean across the table to get a better view of the sheet of paper. I stare at the man's face for a little longer than I should have. The butterflies gasp at the sight of him, but they quickly skulk back down to the pit of my stomach. "That's Him."

"I'm sorry to say this, Avery, but you are not the first woman to have suffered this violence. The day you met him, we believe he killed another woman in the alley near that coffee shop."

I gasp and throw my hands over my mouth. "Oh my goodness, I had no idea."

"I understand it can be a frightening thought, I'm sorry to have to tell you. We found his DNA on the victim's body and we have phone records from the both of them that suggest they were in a relationship after she split with her husband. We can only presume that the reason for him killing her was the same as what happened to you early this morning."

I glance down to avoid eye contact as the tears begin to form. He doesn't need to see them, though, to know they're there.

"Now, Miss Blake, I want to make something very clear to you." I look back to him. "This man was a dangerous member of society. He killed a woman before you, he was going to harm you and we don't know as of yet who else he may have harmed. I want to make sure you know that you have done a service, here. You have taken a murderer off the streets. Don't blame yourself, okay?"

I sniffle and mutter, "Okay. If it's okay with you I'd like to go home now."

Flynn nods as he stands up. "Absolutely. We will give you a police escort back to your home. First we need to quickly take your fingerprints and a swab sample so that we can eliminate you from the investigation when we go over the scene."

My heart stops. I try and hide my surprise but fail miserably.

"Is that going to be a problem?" he asks.

I smile and say, "no, of course not. I just don't understand why you need it?"

"It's just standard procedure. Even when we have a good idea of how a case plays out we still have to go through with the investigation."

I gulp down my nerves and nod. "Okay, that's fine." And I follow him to the room in which the prints and swab are taken.

Once they are, they are immediately inputted into the system and I catch the screen read searching.

"Don't worry," Flynn reassures me. "We just have to run it through the system to see if we already have your prints. So there isn't any confusion."

That most certainly does not make me feel any better. My entire plan is about to crumble.

When the bar reaches 100%, Flynn studies the screen and my breathing starts to quicken in anticipation. This is it. Everything I have built is about to come crashing down. Right onto my head.

Finally, he turns to me, smiling, and announces, "Okay, great. That's all done. Now let's get you home."

I'm completely puzzled by the results. I was prepared for disaster to strike. My prints should definitely be on there. I can't understand why they're not – or if the search missed them. But would that happen?

Regardless of the cause, I count my blessings. Everything could have been for nothing if they'd found a match.

He then leads me out of the interview room, down the hall and heading into the reception. As we go down the corridor, I jump as a mutt hurls himself at the glass door of Flynn's office.

"Oh, sorry about Bertie. He's a very loving dog – he doesn't like to see me go past him."

I offer him a half-smile. "That's okay, I love dogs." I peer into the window, wave my hand and mouth hi. Bertie stares at me and instead of jumping up at the glass with enthusiasm like he did when he saw Flynn, instead he curls up his gums, baring his teeth and growls at me.

"That's strange, Bertie usually loves everyone."

I shrug and encourage him to keep walking. I know why Bertie doesn't like me.

Once I get into the police car, I rest my head on the cold glass window, close my eyes and let the world fade away.