Altered Images

Chapter Eight ~ Back in the interrogation room

"Where were you at 10pm last night?" asked Steve.
"Um, I got home at about 8pm and then fell asleep at about 9:30."

Steve considered this.

"So, do you know how they died?" I asked.
Steve eyed me suspiciously again. "Forensics have concluded it was a stab wound to the coronary artery, and they died instantaneously. For both victims."

I suddenly began to feel uneasy. Could this be the second murder from that book?

I then remembered the titles of the entries in the book. Subject P. Did that mean Piper? And subjects S and A. Those had to be Savannah and Arya.

That meant the murderer was documenting the murders in that book. But then how were they writing in it? And if they wanted to keep using it to 'document their murders', or whatever it was they were doing, why didn't they just take the book after I took it home? Why leave it with me?

Maybe it was just to frame me. Or perhaps they knew that if I took the book, I wouldn't turn it in to the police because my name was on the cover, thus making me look guilty. That way, they wouldn't be caught as they wouldn't be in possession of the book.

But then why document the murders in that book in the first place? This was too confusing for me to try and figure out.

I quickly realised that Inspector Steve was looking at me with a look of concern. Subtly, I changed the subject.

"I really miss them," I said with a false, saddened look on my face.
Steve nodded. "I understand that, and if you have any worries or concerns feel free to come and speak to me or any of my colleagues. Also if you remember anything important or could think of someone who might want to harm them please let me know."
"I will," I said, and with that Inspector Steve stood up and walked out of the interrogation room.

I was left alone in the room, trying so hard to think of who might have done this. I reached into my jean pocket and took out my cracked iphone. It was already 10am. I should be getting on my way, my shift at the shop started in half an hour.

I grabbed my bag off the floor, stood up and walked out of the interrogation room. I passed many policemen and women on my way out but didn't stop to speak to any of them. Hopefully this would be the last time I had to walk into the dark and dingy police station.