Kill Who You Want

Chapter Nine

Plot reminder: It is the second morning of the investigation. Nathan Edwardson is absent from school. Harriet Gilchrist has meanwhile received a second letter from the murderer offering to quit his evil game if she so desires. She is to communicate her decision via the initial letter of that day's headline. 'A' to 'M' he quits, 'N' to 'Z' he continues. Maureen Booth, who features in the final part of this chapter, is an unpopular English teacher at the local school.

~~~~~

It was a clean-shaven but somewhat haggard-looking Detective Inspector Kubič who addressed the throng of reporters outside the station entrance that morning. That he had little to report by way of progress was evident in the sheepish, evasive gaze. He could only reiterate the previous day's impassioned plea that the second recipient do the sensible thing and come forward.

As regards security measures, he was able to confirm that - thanks to emergency funding and cross-jurisdictional collaboration - foot patrols would be tripled for the foreseeable future.

In addition were the discussions which had earlier that morning taken place between the Home Office and the Chief Constable. As a result of these discussions officers would, in accordance with national curfew law, be required to escort home under-16s seen out and about anywhere within Ravensby town limits between the hours of 9pm and 6am.

The more meticulous elements of the assembled journalistic throng would later do a little research on the subject. It turned out that the Ravensby situation was the first time in the annals of UK police history that a curfew had been extended to an entire urban area of several square miles.

A 'whole town lock-down', as the Daily Mirror would the next day christen it.

*

When he'd gone downstairs that morning, Nathan had found his mum and Kevin comatose in the living room. If it hadn't been for the fact they were both snoring, they'd have looked dead. It was one of those things that just happened sometimes.

There was nothing in the house for breakfast, but gently lifting up his mother's foot he found a pound coin down the side of the of the settee. Enough for a chocolate bar from the corner shop, half each with Marcus.

After dropping his little brother off at the primary school gate, he hadn't headed down Croxley Street and towards school, but instead had taken West Street into the town centre. This was another of those things that just happened sometimes.

There was a computer game shop. The guy let you play as long as you liked on the exhibition console, never asked your age or why you weren't at school. A bit of a bunker's club really. There were always a couple of other kids there.

After two or three hours on Call of Duty with some kid from Year 9, he slinked out again, decided to get something to eat. The mini market was easy, almost like having his own personal food cupboard. The trick was to actually buy something, the security guard so dozy he fell for it every time. He still had 50p left from earlier. So, another chocolate bar for dessert. Main course was the meat pie and packet of crisps slipped out under his jacket.

He ate by the canal, shivering on a bench as the ducks floated past. It was a place he used to go to with his dad when he was little, drop a line. Gudgeon mainly, the odd perch. The water was so dirty you just threw them back in. It didn't much matter though. Catching fish hadn't really been the point.

Sitting there on that cold as crap bench an idea came to him... He slouched off again, headed towards the fishing shop on Croxley Street. The tinkling bell which announced his arrival wasn't good. The customer umming and ahhing over fly baits at the counter with the proprietor was good.