Page 16 of Dying Truth

When it was Christmas and everything was so blindingly perfect?

Perfect, perfect, perfect. Not so fucking perfect now.

Perfection isn’t real. It is only the top layer beneath which the ugliness lies.

Oh, Sadie, I felt nothing for you as you took your last breath, but now I get to know you through your own thoughts, recorded by your own hand in the privacy of your diary.

You’ve suffered. I’ve suffered.

You are at peace. I am not.

Every blow and kick, every time my flesh met yours afforded me a release from the pain, the rage that thunders around me, trapped, growing, strengthening with hate and disgust.

You repelled me. Your very existence an insult to my agony.

I’ve been watching you, you see, knowing what I had to do.

There was no choice.

It had to be you.

There was no other way. You had to die.

You were the first.

Twelve

‘That seemed to go a little too smoothly,’ Bryant observed as she ended the call.

She nodded her agreement.

Upon leaving Keats she had immediately called Woody to give him the unwelcome news that Sadie Winters had been murdered. She had geared herself up to fight for her request to delay announcing the death as murder. She had been ready to tell him that what she needed was to speak to the staff and students at Heathcrest. That with more than a thousand potential witnesses she couldn’t afford for people to turn silent for fear of getting into trouble. She’d been ready to argue a dozen points but hadn’t needed to. Woody had agreed, readily, before telling her he wanted an update at the end of the day.

‘I see he’s here already,’ Bryant observed as he idled into the gravel drive of Heathcrest.

Dawson waved from the cordon where he stood talking to Mitch.

Kim half smiled. Despite his earlier reticence at the nature of Sadie’s death and his protest about his current desk load, Dawson couldn’t resist the lure of a murder investigation. He would have been out of the office door before she’d even finished the call. She nodded at her colleague before turning to the head of the forensic team.

‘Anything to note?’ she asked.

He shook his head. ‘Got all the fag ends, ground samples and a couple of stray hairs. No usable footprints, though,’ he said, nodding towards his team. ‘We’ll be inspecting her clothes once we’re finished here, which won’t be long now. I’m gonna be honest though, Inspector, I’m not hopeful.’

She understood and appreciated his honesty. This case was not going to be solved by forensic evidence.

‘Cheers, Mitch,’ she said, walking away.

‘So, you clear on what we’re doing?’ she asked Dawson as he fell into step beside her.

She had asked Stacey to start compiling background information on both the facility and the parents. Dawson was responsible for talking to Sadie’s friends as she felt they were more likely to open up to a more youthful officer, and she and Bryant were taking the adults.

Kim could almost taste the exclusivity of Heathcrest as she stepped into the grand entrance hall. From the Persian rug that was almost big enough for a boxing match to the antique Grandfather clock in the top left-hand corner. Gilt-edged portraits lined the space beneath decorative coving. Marble pillars led the eye out of the hallway along a lit corridor towards the rear of the house. It narrowed away from her like a tunnel, giving her an idea of the scale of the building. There were few schools she’d visited where the contents of this hall would have remained intact and without damage.

Mr Thorpe was waiting for them with his hands linked in front of him. Gone was the frazzled, unkempt man operating on shock and adrenaline that she’d met yesterday. In its place was a calm, suited individual, complete with tiepin bearing the crest of the school. His dark suit was more flattering, and his belt appeared to be in the right place today.

‘Good morning, officers,’ he said, glancing across the three of them.

There was no offer of a handshake and Kim could feel the reticence behind the man. Principal Thorpe did not want them there.