Chapter 5

'A hand from the inside'

Lugging my suitcase all the way to the police station was one thing, but walking through the door was the real torture.

Everything reminded me of dad, the uniforms, the radios and the smell of freshly printed ink on warm paper. I had spent most of my childhood in this building watching dad work, asking silly questions like 'do you like donuts?' to the other officers, resulting is hysterics. Being the daughter of the chief of police certainly had its perks.

The doors were barely opened before I was bombarded with sympathetic looks and words of mourning.

"Please, I'm looking for the chief." My dad had long since retired and I had lost touch with who was who at the station.

The receptionist spoke the line many had given me over the last twenty for hours: "I'm sorry for your loss."

She spoke solemnly and pointed towards the office at the end of a long hallway.

'How could you be sorry, when you don't even know.' I hated pity lines like "I'm sorry" or "My condolences". Sure people were being polite, but I would rather it wasn't brought up by every person I met.

My walk was slow, thanks to the suitcase being dragged behind me.

When I reached the door two voices could be heard arguing over something. And I decided it could wait.

My knock silenced the arguing and earned a loud "Come in."

I opened the door to see two men in the room, one sitting behind a desk and one standing with his arms crossed.

"Kerry? What is it my dear?" The man sitting rose immediately, his voice was familiar and I recognised him at once. He was the man who dad had once trained to become a great policeman. Dad's favourite apprentice; Thomas White. He was chief of police.

"Chief White, what a surprise, raised in the ranks I see." I smiled a genuine smile, one that hadn't crossed my lips for a while.

The second man was young, blonde and strangely familiar. The cut above my eye stung as I recalled where I knew him from.

"You, you are the one that knocked me flat the other day." His expression changed from annoyance to shocked shame.

"I am sorry, I just wasn't paying attention." He looked at the band aid and shook his head.

"Joel, is that true?" White looked startled, jumping to conclusions before either of us could explain.

"Sir, it was purely an accident, I was as much in the wrong as he was." My tone had turned from accusing to warm and understanding. Joel had obviously been getting a reprimand before I entered.

"I am sorry for you loss Kerry, you dad was a great man." White spoke solemnly, but I still winced at the pity.

"Please no sympathy, I do so prefer just the line 'Your father was a great man.'" I raised my head with pride, smiling at the thought of my father.

"I'm sorry." Joel broke the silence.

"Excuse me?" My tone was slightly irritated.

"For the cut I mean." He smiled a cheeky smile. I couldn't help but laugh, he seemed to get more attractive by the second.

"Kerry, you came here for a reason?" White had become impatient, watching our witty exchange.

"Yes, I came about my father's murder." This brought the room to a standstill.

"Kerry, you do know it was not murder, it was an accident. He was very weak and he must have taken a mouth full of water and tripped. He must have landed in such a way that he was unconscious and both air passages were blocked, therefore he drowned. There is absolutely no sign of foul play and the only other possible explanation is suicide." He looked flushed when he had finished. Surely he could not believe what he was saying was possible. It sounded outrageous.

"You can't be serious. That is so outrageous-" I stammered.

"Look Kerry, you come up with any other possible explanation. No, I didn't think you had any. Now please, your father's death was tragic but it happened and it was not murder." White was frustrated now.

"It was murder, my car was stolen, and he was found drowned in our front room! Look at this note, look!" I handed him the note from my pocket and waited while he skimmed his eyes over the flowing script.

"Is this some kind of joke? Kerry, I believe someone is playing a nasty joke on you." He handed the note back over and shook his head.

"I have had the press breathing down my neck for the last day and a half. This is really playing on my nerves. So Kerry please, go to school. Let the police handle police matters." I was shocked by his harsh words. My mouth fell open and to my utter disgust a tear sprung from my eye and down my cheek.

"The police are useless without my father." I turned and stormed out slamming the door. Leaving the shocked faces of the two men behind, I trudged home, whipping the aggravated tears from my eyes.

"Dad, I know someone did this. And I will find them." I whispered to myself. The police made no sense. Something was wrong with this whole scenario.

The walk home was boring me, so I started to sing to myself.

"Ring a ring a roses, a pocket full of posies, a tissue a tissue, they all fall-" Suddenly I was interrupted by a yell.

"Kerry!" I turned to see that the yell was coming from Joel. He was running towards me.

He stopped in front of me, red faced and puffing.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, shocked that he was not back with that dick of a police chief.

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about what you said." He struggled to speak. His hands found positions on his hips as he spoke.

"What about it?" I turned to carry on walking. Joel followed.

"I believe you." He looked at me sincerely, watching for my reaction.

"You do?" My tears flowed again and I tried my hardest to hide them.

"I think there is something really wrong with this. I have only heard stories about your father and the chance of the man in those stories committing suicide is so slim, I'm willing to bet my life that the system is being tampered with." He looked at me bracing for the torrent of tears.

"Joel, you are the smartest man in the history of men." My tears stopped and I looked at him with the biggest smile that has ever crossed my lips.

"We need to get to my Mum's house. I have to show you something." I began to run as I spoke. Joel, being a gentleman, grabbed my suitcase and ran with me.

...

The car was gone when I got home, along with my parents.

I took the spare key from under the sculpted metal door knocker and unlocked the door.

"Do you know that is the strangest place I have ever seen a spare key hid." Joel nodded his head in approval.

"Well its right under your nose and most people would think it would jingle under the knocker when it is used. But that is where blue tack comes in handy!" I laughed to myself at my own key hiding skills; strange but effective.

We walked inside and I took the suitcase from him. Joel examined the interior of the house as we walked, blowing out a long low whistle.

"Your Mum and Dad must have sweet jobs." He seemed to be a bit distracted so I tried not to be offended by his obvious mistake.

"Um, my father was retired and is now dead. Murray is not my Dad, my parents separated years ago." My throat constricted at the mention of Dads death. It was the first time I had used the fact in a casual manner.

"Oh I'm so sorry Kerry. I didn't mean to offend I just thought-" I interrupted his rebuff by putting my hand up to stop him.

"Its fine, I'm just a little emotional, no offence taken." I smiled at him, leading him into my room.

"Books." Was all he could say as I threw the suitcase to the side and closed the door behind us.

"Yeah, not much else to do." I smiled at an inside joke that me and my father had about my reading obsession.

Joel smiled and looked at me like I was the strangest and most interesting person he had ever met. The feeling was mutual.

"So, you wanted to show me something?" He crossed his arms expectantly. With that I fished out the note, hair and ring from my pocket and sat down on the bed, placing the items in front of me.

"Ok, the note yeah, the ring and hair, not so much." He sat down on the other end of the bed and examined the note personally, avoiding the hair and the ring.

"Calling cards for the Ringmaster." I chill went up my spine as I said the name aloud.

"Ringmaster?" Joel was surprised at the choice of name.

"Well, he frequently refers to himself as the ringmaster in the note, so why not call him that. He is my father's murderer." My tone was sure, my voice was solid. I was certain that this man was the reason my father was dead and I had a bad feeling he was not done with me at all. In fact, I had a big feeling this was the beginning of a long ride.

"Kerry, this note sounds like a bad joke." He picked up the ring and watched it shimmer in the light.

"Then why on earth was there a note lying on my bed? Why is this note the only lead we have to finding my father's killer? Joel this is no joke, I have a feeling that this is serious and the game is a foot." I struggled to keep a straight face with my own twist of words hanging in the space between us. The line seemed so cliché but was startlingly true.

"Kerry, I can't believe I am saying this, but if this is serious, will you let me help you find this maniac?" Joel grabbed my shaking fists and stared into my eyes.

"What is your last name?" I asked him, breaking eye contact.

"Um, Mathers." He seemed surprised by the question, obviously not expecting that sentence.

"Well, Mister Mathers, I find your offer very forward and would like to say that I'm not that kind of a girl. I would however like to tell you that a crazed maniac hunt is a very effective way to get a girls attention, therefore I accept your offer. I mean what better way to stop a criminal than with a police officer." I said all this in a very bad English accent. I was so close to saying toddle pip.

Joel laughed so hard that his grip loosened, but he never let go.

"Well we have a maniac to catch me lady." He said the last words with such a startlingly perfect English accent that it made my heart throb.

It felt good to have someone finally on my side.