A Room Full of Killers

by Michael Wood

  ‘Bloody hell.’

  ‘Exactly. So, what’s the problem? Anything I can help you with?’

  ‘I hope so.’ Faith filled Sian in on the Malcolm Preston case and how Ryan Asher fitted into it. ‘So what do you think? Do you think someone close to Malcolm could have killed Ryan?’

  ‘It’s possible. It’s definitely worth checking up.’

  ‘How can I, though, without going back down to Norwich? I doubt the ACC will budget for another trip.’

  ‘Probably not. Look, leave it with me. I’ll have a word with Matilda in a while. Good work though, Faith.’

  ‘Shit,’ Matilda cursed herself. She rummaged in her bag for her tablets and found a battered box at the bottom. She knew she shouldn’t take them like this, as and when she felt like it, but there was something psychological about taking an antidepressant that seemed to work. It worked for Matilda anyway. She dry-swallowed two and waited to see if they would take effect.

  She closed her eyes and leaned back in the leather office chair. She could hear life going on as normal outside her tiny glass box: phones ringing, people chatting and laughing, computer keyboards being hammered, the heavy footfalls of sensible shoes.

  Life goes on.

  Everybody had told her after James died that it would get easier, that she would eventually remember the good times, the happier memories, and return to functioning normally. Eighteen months later and she was still a physical and emotional wreck. She missed James on a daily basis. The house was empty without him, and it would never feel the same again. Life didn’t go on. It was a ridiculous and patronizing saying. Life would never go on. It would just meander in its current state until she eventually withered and died.

  Optimistic as ever, Mat.

  She remembered a few breathing exercises from her therapist and eventually she began to calm herself. Matilda sank into her chair as her muscles relaxed. Her heart was no longer racing and trying to break out of her chest. She felt calm. Well, calm for her.

  Matilda picked up the phone and dialled a number from a Post-It note she had stuck to her computer screen the day before. It took a while for the call to be answered and she almost gave up and replaced the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hello. My name is Detective Chief Inspector Matilda Darke from South Yorkshire Police. Am I speaking to Belinda Asher?’

  There was a sigh. ‘Yes,’ was all she said.

  ‘Thank you for getting in touch.’

  ‘From what my sister said, I didn’t have much choice.’

  ‘I’m guessing you’ve already heard the news about—’

  ‘Yes,’ Belinda snapped.

  Why did she interrupt? What didn’t she want Matilda to say – her son’s name or her calling him her son?

  ‘Mrs Asher—’

  ‘That’s not my name anymore.’

  ‘I’m aware that you and your husband have changed your name. If you want me to call you by your new name—’

  ‘No. I’m sorry, but no. Look, we’ve moved on as best we can. I intend this conversation with you to be my only one. I think I am capable of getting through this with you calling me Belinda Asher but I won’t be giving you my new name.’ Her voice was fragile and breaking. She was taking deep breaths, trying, but struggling, to hold onto her emotions.

  ‘I understand,’ Matilda said. ‘Before we go on, is there anything you’d like to ask me?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like how Ryan died maybe?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You don’t want to know?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I’m not interested. Please, ask your questions.’

  ‘OK. Mrs Asher, can you tell me what Ryan was like as a child?’

  Belinda burst into tears. ‘We tried our best. We did everything we could. We were always there for him. He wanted for nothing. I wanted another child. For some reason I always wanted two but it never happened. I don’t know why Ryan ended up the way he did. Maybe I was too protective of him and he rebelled against us, I don’t know.’

  ‘His home life was incident free, you’d say?’

  ‘Yes, I would. Until he was twelve he was never any trouble. He was well behaved; he always came home when we asked him to; he cleaned his room and always went to school.’

  ‘So what happened? Did he fall in with the wrong friends?’

  ‘Yes. You probably won’t have heard about it in South Yorkshire, but there was a gang in Norwich he got involved with – quite a well-known gang. They damaged cars, stole from shops, terrorized the local kids. Then it escalated. I think one of them got involved in drugs. One of the gang ended up getting stabbed. Anyway, Ryan started asking us for money, ten pounds here, twenty pounds there. At first, we gave it to him but then he started asking for more … ’

  ‘Was he involved in drugs?’ Matilda interrupted.

  ‘I don’t think so. He wasn’t taking any but he may have been buying for others. I’m not sure. It all escalated quickly. He started smoking. I could smell it on his school uniform. I told him to quit but he got quite volatile.’ She started to cry again. ‘I thought that maybe once he’d left school and was away from that gang he would improve. I had no idea things would turn into … he killed my mum and dad,’ her words were replaced by heavy and loud sobbing.

  Matilda waited until the crying began to subside. ‘I’m sorry to bring all this up. I won’t pretend I know what you’re going through because I don’t.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ she sniffled. ‘Just ask your questions.’

  ‘What did Ryan’s school say about his change in behaviour?’

  ‘They were useless. At first, they didn’t notice a difference in him at all. It was only when I contacted them that they realized he’d changed. They said he was a lot quieter in class and he didn’t work to his usual standard.’

  ‘So if he had made new friends they were outside of school?’

  ‘It would appear so.’

  Matilda remained quiet. She wanted to ask more but also wanted Belinda to take the lead and offer the information.

  ‘We talked about moving away but we couldn’t with our work. Then, the Malcolm Preston incident happened.’

  Matilda hadn’t heard of Malcolm Preston but felt she should have done. She quickly scribbled his name down on a notepad but didn’t say anything. She waited for Belinda to elaborate.

  ‘I often search the internet for Malcolm’s name to see if there’s any news, but he’s still in a coma. The police, the school, even Malcolm’s parents, they all knew it was Ryan who attacked him but there was no evidence,’ she took a deep breath. ‘We knew it too.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘He withdrew completely. He went to his room as soon as he came home and was out the next morning before we both got up. We hardly saw him.’

  ‘It must have made your home life very difficult.’

  ‘It did. Stu … Paul and I were arguing. He wanted to send him away. There are special schools that deal with disruptive children, but I didn’t want to. Ryan was my son. I wanted to be able to help him myself, but I couldn’t. I tried everything. I failed him.’ The tears came fast and she struggled to breathe. ‘I should have listened to Paul. If I had, my parents would still be alive.’

  Matilda waited for Belinda to regain control but she was in for a long wait. Eventually, a man came on the line.

  ‘My name is Paul Asher. I’m sorry but I don’t think you should continue with this conversation. I don’t see what use it will be to your investigation.’

  ‘Mr Asher I’m very sorry to have upset your wife but at the end of the day Ryan Asher is your son.’

  ‘No,’ he snapped. ‘He stopped being my son when he burned his grandparents to death. I want nothing more to do with him.’

  ‘Mr Asher, eventually, Ryan’s body will be released by the coroner for burial.’

  ‘Do what you want with him. We don’t want him back. Now I would appreciate it if you didn’t call this number again. Thank you.’


  Before Matilda could say anything, she found herself listening to the dial tone. She wasn’t surprised by the result of the conversation. She typed the area code 01806 into Google and found Paul and Belinda Asher were now living in Shetland. They really had wanted a complete change when they left Norwich. She couldn’t blame them.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Craig Hodge was sitting in an interview room in South Yorkshire Police HQ. He never thought he would be back in a room like this answering questions after spending so long in Starling House. He thought his questioning days were over.

  Sitting opposite him were DS Sian Mills and DC Scott Andrews. Sian had informed Craig of his rights and told him the interview was being recorded and videoed. He’d looked up to the camera in the corner of the room and smiled at whoever was watching him. Sitting to his right was an appropriate adult – a woman brought in to monitor the interview to make sure Craig was dealt with fairly by the police, not put under any unnecessary duress and treated with respect.

  ‘Craig, I want you to tell us what’s been going on with Richard Grover,’ Sian said, starting the proceedings.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because we need to know.’

  ‘He … gets us things.’

  ‘What kind of things?’

  ‘Anything we want. Food, chocolate, magazines.’

  ‘What kind of magazines?’

  ‘You’ve seen what kind of magazines,’ he replied, nodding and smiling.

  ‘Pornography?’

  ‘Yep,’ he leaned back and folded his arms.

  ‘How long has this been going on?’

  ‘For as long as I’ve been there.’

  Sian looked at her notes. ‘And you’ve been there for just over a year?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘We only found magazines in your room and Lee Marriott’s room. Does he get things for all the boys or just you two?’

  ‘All of us. We hand the mags round. Although you have to make sure Callum Nixon doesn’t get to them first as he rips the best pics out.’

  ‘How do you pay for the things Richard gets you?’

  He flashed a knowing smile. Looking up at Sian out of the top of his eyes made him look sinister. ‘You know what he does or you wouldn’t be asking.’

  ‘We need you to tell us, Craig.’

  ‘What’s in it for me?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘What do I get for telling you all the gory details? Will I get time off my sentence?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then there’s no reason for me to talk, is there?’

  ‘There’s every reason for you to talk, Craig,’ Scott spoke for the first time. ‘Things like cooperation go down on your file. When you get moved to an adult prison and the guards see how you’ve behaved they’ll treat you accordingly. Piss us off and you won’t get a moment’s peace until your parole comes up in thirty years’ time.’

  The smirk on Craig face fell. ‘Grover liked to watch us while we … you know… ’

  ‘You’re going to have to tell us, Craig. For the benefit of the recording.’

  ‘He liked to watch us while we wanked off,’ he replied loudly.

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘No. Sometimes he sucked us off.’

  ‘You sound like you didn’t mind?’

  ‘I couldn’t give a toss. If that’s how he gets his kicks then it’s up to him. At the end of the day I’m getting free stuff and I’m getting my dick sucked,’ he shrugged.

  ‘You do realize what he’s been doing is a criminal offence? You’re underage and he is abusing his position.’

  ‘Not my problem,’ he shrugged again. ‘It’s him that’s going to lose his job and go to prison, not me. How can things get any worse for me? I’m already locked up.’

  Matilda was sitting at her computer watching the interview. Her screen was split in half. On the other side of the screen, Callum Nixon was impatiently sitting alone with a uniformed officer standing guard. His eyes wandered around and settled on the camera in the corner of the room. He knew he was being watched. He sat back in his chair and looked deep into the lens. He smiled. It was a haunting smile that stretched across his face. Matilda felt a cold chill run through her body. Callum Nixon was pure malevolence. He was due to be interviewed by Aaron and Rory. Matilda found Craig’s interview difficult to comprehend. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe him – the evidence of the magazines spoke for itself. It was the nonchalance of an abused teenager that she found hard to fathom. Craig Hodge was being abused, there was no other word for it, and he didn’t seem to mind.

  ‘Sian, ask him if any of the other guards take advantage in any way,’ Matilda said into the microphone on her computer.

  ‘Is it just Richard Grover who treats you all in this way or are there any others?’ Sian asked.

  ‘Well, none have done anything else to me. You’d have to ask the others. Elly Caine once gave Jacob Brown a good kicking and Call Me Fred often looks at you a bit funny, but that’s it.’

  ‘In what way does Fred look at you?’

  ‘Like he wants to do something but knows he can’t.’

  ‘Don’t you think you should have reported Richard Grover to Kate Moloney?’

  ‘Where would I have got my wanking material from then?’ He smiled.

  Outside the interview rooms in the custody suite, the other boys were sitting uncomfortably for their turn to be interviewed.

  ‘I need a piss,’ Lewis Chapman called out to anyone who would listen.

  ‘I’ll take him,’ Rory said to the desk sergeant.

  ‘You sure? I can get a uniform.’

  ‘No it’s OK. I can’t do anything yet. Aaron’s checking up on his wife again. If you ever hear me mentioning getting married, you have my permission to give me a good hiding.’

  Lewis wasn’t handcuffed, but he couldn’t be allowed to go to the toilet on his own; this wasn’t Starling House. When they entered, Lewis looked underneath all the cubicles to see if anyone was in them before going over to the urinals.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ Rory asked.

  ‘In Scream the killer is waiting for Sidney in the cubicles and then attacks her.’

  Rory remembered Lewis’s crime – he killed his younger brother while dressed as the killer from the Scream films.

  ‘Do you always check under the doors in the toilets?’

  ‘Always,’ he replied, looking over his shoulder and smiling at Rory.

  ‘Are you allowed to watch horror films in prison?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘What’s your favourite scary movie?’

  Lewis started laughing. ‘You’re supposed to say that in a deep menacing voice like Ghostface.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Rory said, not getting the reference to the Scream films.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t have a favourite. I love them all. You can’t beat Hannibal Lecter as the ultimate bad guy though.’

  ‘Why did you do it?’

  ‘What? Kill my little brother?’ Lewis asked, washing his hands. He shrugged. ‘I dunno. Just wanted to, I guess.’

  ‘Had he done something to upset you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Was it revenge or to get back at someone, your parents maybe?’

  ‘No, no, and no. I just wanted to kill someone.’ He dried his hands on his trousers and walked up close to Rory, backing him up against a wall. ‘It’s scarier when there’s no motive isn’t it?’ He smiled.

  Rory swallowed hard. ‘Are you finished?’ he asked, quietly.

  With Craig’s interview over, Matilda sat up in her chair when she saw Thomas Hartley being brought in. She was keen to hear his version of events about the goings-on at Starling House. For some reason, she felt she could believe him more over the other inmates. She hoped Richard Grover had kept his fat, grubby hands off him too. He was a disgrace.

  ‘Thomas, did Richard Grover ever bring in things from the outside for you?’ Sian asked.

 
‘Yes,’ he replied. His head was down, facing the table, his hands folded between his legs and his voice was barely above a whisper.

  ‘What did he bring you?’

  ‘Chocolate and sweets mostly.’

  ‘You’ll need to speak up, Thomas, for the recording. What did Richard Grover want in return?’

  Thomas closed his eyes tight and squeezed out a tear. ‘Do I have to?’

  ‘Yes, Thomas, you do.’

  ‘He liked to watch us play with ourselves.’ He shook his head, embarrassed at what he had been forced to endure. His interview was a complete contrast to Craig Hodge’s.

  ‘How many times did he watch you?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember.’

  ‘Were you always on your own or with the other boys?’

  ‘On my own.’

  ‘When did this take place?’ Scott asked.

  ‘He’d sometimes come to our rooms at night. Or when he had stuff to give one of us he’d give us the signal and meet us in the toilets,’ he replied, disgusted he had taken part.

  ‘Did Richard Grover touch you or the others at all?’

  ‘He didn’t touch me. I heard he … you know … sucked off Craig and Lee and Mark sometimes.’

  ‘Why those three?’

  ‘They’re blond. He liked them because they were blond.’

  ‘Did anything else happen?’

  Tears fell from Thomas’s eyes. The appropriate adult handed him a tissue from her jacket pocket, which he thanked her for.

  ‘Thomas,’ Scott leaned forward on the table. ‘Richard has been arrested and is in custody. He’s not going to get away with this and he won’t be able to hurt you again. You can tell us.’

  ‘He used Lee.’

  ‘In what way?’ Sian asked.

  ‘You’ve seen Lee. He’s very blond and slim and he used him as if he belonged to him.’

  ‘What did he make him do?’

  ‘Do I have to?’

  ‘It would help, Thomas.’

  ‘Lee said he sometimes had sex with him.’

  Matilda chewed on her nails in her office while she watched Thomas’s difficult interview. She was furious. Richard Grover had been working at Starling House for more than four years. How many boys had he abused in that time?