Chapter 8: Chapter 8
I was an insomniac that entire night after Matt dropped me home. My heart had been bulging with a mixture of gargantuan rage, revulsion, and shock, at Emily's despicably murderous acts. No matter how sulky, bad-tempered, and saucy she was, I never in my wildest dreams could have imagined that she would go to such an extent to take revenge. I was boiling with fury, still in disbelief that someone whom I knew, let it be an aggressive competitor, could stoop so low for a petty reason.
However, some part of me also felt pleasantly bewildered at the magical appearance of that angelic lady who saved my life. Was she an angel of God? Or could it be only a figment of my imagination in that deadly moment where I was barely conscious? My mind was bursting horribly with these uncontrollable thoughts, while my body ached outrageously, after its miraculous escape from the arms of death.
The next day, I marched off to school with a massive grudge dwelling in my mind. I wanted to confront Emily and teach her a lesson she could never forget in her entire life. But, before I could bang her classroom door open during lunch, a gut-wrenching scream of a girl slammed my ears, which appeared to be coming from the school cafeteria.
Instantaneously, I dashed towards the place, my brain buzzing with frenzy, holding a gut feeling that something terrifying was going to be experienced. The whole school had been gathered in the cafeteria, with the principal holding the girl who had screamed and coming out of the cafeteria's kitchen. Her face was white as a sheet, and the girl looked like a zombie, with tears spread across her face.
All the teachers looked terrified as well as disgusted, as they wrapped handkerchiefs or cloths around their faces as though they had encountered a despicable ghost. The girl being led by the principal walked a few steps and puked all over the place. One of the teachers fetched her and took her to the infirmary. The students were being led outside by the teachers, so I couldn't get a look, however, I sneaked past the teachers cautiously after they had all escorted the students outside the cafeteria.
An unbearably horrible stench seemed to be erupting from inside the cafeteria kitchen. I covered my mouth and nose with my palm tightly and entered it. And what I witnessed there, dried the blood in my veins…..
Emily and Broderick's naked dead bodies were hung to meat hooks upside down from their abdomens, with their throats slit, and the floor was a large pool of blood dripping from their bodies which were nearly dried up. I couldn't bear to look at that barbarously cold-blooded sight for another second and darted away as fast as I could towards the washroom, where I spewed profusely, with my body shivering convulsively like never before. Of all the supernatural and paranormal malice I had encountered, nothing had traumatized me as much as this one sadistically bestial scene did. How could somebody be so sadistic and call itself human? I pondered, wrapping my arms around my body and continuing to tremble. I had come to school today with a firm intention to punish Emily and her boyfriend. But looking at their gruesome bodies, I strongly realized, no matter what they'd have done to me, I could never even imagine doing something like that to them, or anyone for that matter.
The students were sent back home instantly, and police were called, who barricaded the premises. The bodies of Emily and Broderick were wrapped in a transparent sheet and sent for a post-mortem examination. Furthermore, my school was closed till the culprit was caught by the police, who had assigned special crime branch officers to look at the brutality at which the crime had been committed. Meanwhile, my family responded to the murders to such a shockingly ridiculous extent that they raised a full-time curfew at home for my brothers and me, till the case was solved and the killer got arrested. Which meant, we couldn't even step out into the backward past evening.
An entire week I contemplated the case ceaselessly, such that my mind wouldn't let me divert it anywhere else. To add to that, those hideously slaughtered images of Emily and Broderick continued to torment me unceasingly, leading me into insomniac nights, wherein, I desperately struggled to sleep, and even if I managed to do so, that horrendous scene intruded my gentle nightmare of the castle.
One fine afternoon about two weeks later since those murders had taken place, there was an unexpected knock on the door followed by the doorbell, which was quite surprising as hardly anyone, including the neighbors, ever visited our house without prior information. Dad, who was dozing off deeply on his rocking chair, woke up with a start and got up almost lazily to open the door. A tall and muscular man wearing formals and a frosty expression on his face, stood there towering dad, who was mildly astonished to encounter someone like that at his doorstep.
“Sorry, we do not wish to purchase any insurance policy,” he blurted out, believing him to be a Life Insurance agent. The man’s stony expression, however, remained unchanged and he pulled out a police badge.
“London Police Criminal Intelligence,” he exclaimed, gazing into dad's eyes who seemed a bit intimidated now. “We would like Miss Ellie Parkinson, a student of Brent High, to come with us. This is in regards to the investigation of the unfortunate murders of Miss Emily Parkinson and Mr. Broderick Barnes that occurred on the fifth of March.
“Excuse me sir, but I think you got the wrong person here. My daughter just coincidentally goes to the same school as those pupils did, she hasn't got a clue about that case no more than me or other members of my family,”
“Sorry Mr. Parkinson, but we are here on official orders, and after investigating quite a great deal about the case. Therefore, we need your sincere co-operation, if your daughter is indeed innocent and clueless about the case, then rest assured, you and your family got nothing to worry about,” he reassured dad, who still didn't seem comfortable with the idea.
“And I promise you that we'll be as gentle as possible during the inquiry, along with dropping her back home safe and sound once the interrogation concludes,” he added with a slight smile, and dad finally had to give in. I was neither anxious, nor terrified, but rather felt useless that I wouldn't be able to help much with the investigation as I had absolutely no idea who could’ve committed those killings. I had no suspects in mind, and neither was I able to think of anyone from school possessing the nerve to even think about standing up to Broderick and Emily's bullying, let alone harm them physically. Nonetheless, I still had to go with them.
I was taken to a vast headquarters of ‘The London Police Criminal Intelligence' which was nearly the size of a shopping mall, with rows of tables and seats occupied with the latest computers and other technology, and the employees working on them diligently according to their assigned duties. However, I was led to a small empty soundproof interrogation room which was dimly lit, where a large table and two chairs were placed opposing each other. A large pane of glass was on the wall which was tinted from the inside. The interior was chosen to create a sense of exposure, unfamiliarity, and isolation, heightening the suspect's ‘get me out of this place’ feeling throughout the interrogation. The air inside the room was chilly due to the high air-condition and surprisingly a sort of suffocating feeling took over me as I sat down. The officer gave me a nod and left the room, giving me a feeling of intimidating isolation. A few moments later, a middle-aged man with a short, stocky body entered the room dressed in a jet black suit and carrying a briefcase.
He looked grumpy and sharp, providing me with the feeling that he would skin me alive if I didn't cooperate enough. He sat down sharply, piercing my eyes with his intense gaze, and I had to force myself to hold his stare for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, a brilliant idea flashed in my mind, that I put it to implementation instantly. I utilized my enhanced telepathic powers and dug deep through his mind, searching for the questions he was going to fire at me, and whether or not he already knew the answers to those. And in a flick of a moment, my brain possessed all the questions and the theories that he had come up with in an attempt to solve the complicated case.
“Miss Ellie Parkinson, I'm Secretary Jason Fox, head of the London Police Criminal Intelligence,” he announced, in a hoarsely agitating voice. “Now without wasting any moment of this crucial interrogation, let me ask you the obvious question. What was your objective behind the cold-blooded murders of Emily Billings and Broderick Barnes?”
“I didn't kill them, Mr. Secretary,” I asserted loudly, refusing to withhold my gaze.
“Miss Ellie Parkinson, let me bring it to your knowledge that you are currently present in a room where professional killers and gang leaders blurt out the truth under my interrogation. While you are just an eighteen-year-old amateur teen. Do not force me to place you in that category, you won't be able to survive,” he warned, raising his eyebrows, and pointing his finger at me threateningly. “Now, with regards to the testimony of Marla Wilkins, your swimming coach at Brent High, Emily Billings was last seen with you during your swimming competition. Am I right?”
“Yes, that's true,”
“And as per her knowledge, you both had mutually bitter enmity for about a year,” his tone relaxed a bit this time, as he opened his briefcase and revealed some official papers, as I concurred with his statement. Having read his powerfully shrewd mind, I was already aware of what was contained in those papers, and I simply had nothing, but the truth, to demolish all his theories and allegations.
“These are forensic reports. We found fingerprints on Miss Billings' throat that match yours,” he stated, placing those papers on the table and sliding them towards me. I picked up those reports and read them, pretending to be astounded. “And let me make it clear to you, in case you are confused, we got our hands on your fingerprints from this,” he added, exposing a transparent cover from his briefcase, which contained my swimming costume, and slid it towards me. I placed the reports on the table and slid them back along with the costume.
“Yes, we did encounter each other after the competition. But it was Emily and Broderick, who had tried to kill me. They used a cable wire to strangle me to death because Emily wanted to take revenge for losing to me in the competition. They had nearly succeeded when they alarmingly heard some footsteps, and so fastened me with the wire and threw me inside the pool to die,” I paused, recalling every detail of that catastrophic day.
“Then how are you alive?” he demanded, laughing lightly, surveying me with a mixture of suspicion and amusement.
“Well, my friend Matt-" I broke off abruptly, as a bubble of suspicion was blown across my mind, channeling my insides with deep skepticism. Was it possible? That Matt was the one who killed them? A tsunami of doubts erupted in my brain at the thought of his name. And I had to find out, whether it was true or not before these people shove him in this interrogation. But the damage had already been done.
“Your friend Matt saved you?” Fox inquired, his tone returning to a serene one.
“Yes. He had come to pick me up after my competition and, thus, jumped in to save me after noticing me drowning,” I admitted truthfully, as lying would have complicated the situation. Jason Fox looked at me skeptically, which felt as though he would like nothing better than to slap the confession out of me.
“Very well, Miss Parkinson,” he said, getting onto his feet and shoving the reports and my swimsuit back into it. “You get a clean sheet from me as of today, but remember, I got my eyes on your every move.” He grabbed the briefcase and left the room, leaving me surmising about Matt's involvement in the murder.