Blood Libel (Howie Earls Thrillers Book 1) by Loyola Chuck

Author:Loyola, Chuck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wallbank Books
Published: 2015-09-06T00:00:00+00:00

32

While Gay wound the tape back — I guessed he knew exactly where it was: he’d had to see it a few times — I noticed the other screens on the wall, myriad views of the hospital grounds and interiors, and one screen that was showing TV news. This was probably the one they spent most time watching.

Local news. They were going live to a quiet neighbourhood to the north of the city. It wasn’t the Millionaire Quarter, but it was most definitely not the Ghetto Quarter. An old Victorian social club with Freemason symbols all over it, opposite a nice public park in a nice suburb where the birds sang and the sun stayed in the sky just a little longer. A reporter was awaiting the news of the new Tory shadow council leader: Birkin’s replacement. I guessed the same press pack were all there — all the ones who’d been at Birkin’s the other morning, which felt like a year ago, all now waiting for the news of who the new leader of the God-fearing opposition would be.

“This is it,” said Gay.

I turned from the TV news to the monitor showing the moment of Tracy’s death. He let it play. The reception area, dull and blurry. People were running in and out. Some were craning their necks to see what was out there, through the black mouth of the sliding doors. A man walked a woman in, arm over her shoulder, her face buried in his chest.

They’d just seen Tracy hit the tarmac.

I stepped up close to Mr Gay and he edged away, uncomfortable. Overcompensating. Because of the name.

“May I?” I said.

He looked at Bradley, who must have nodded. They had a tenner each. I could have taken the VCR out under my arm.

Gay shrugged and stepped aside and they all went back to staring at the TV news where the blue door of the Conservative Club opened, causing a flurry of activity, reporters jockeying for position. A few members spilling out and readying themselves for the cameras, smug grins plastered all over their faces.

I hit the Rewind button and everything oozed backwards from the moment of Tracy’s death. The reception I’d just walked through, people flashing in and out, with jerky black bands of fuzz sliding up and down the screen. The man holding the woman guided her back out to the car park. Gay and the other one ran backwards across the foyer. Then Bradley did the same. Panic on their faces. Then everyone calmed down and people reversed into the hospital or backed out of the sliding doors.

“Are you… happy?”

She laughed, like I was some idiot child asking if there really was a heaven for kittens.

“Happy? Oh, Howie. Who’s happy, ever?”

The counter scrolled in the corner of the screen, counting down the minutes, and I wondered if these guys had watched it happen at the moment she’d done it. Had they seen it from this room? Had they bothered to stop her? Or had they been watching TV instead.

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