Page 77 of M for Murder

Kylan wondered what her friends would say if she told them about the grocery store guy. About how he’d showed up outside her house the week before last and stared through the window at her. A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about it.

Was he a killer?

What would Donna and Ally say after knowing what had happened to Catherine? Would they take her fears seriously?

Kylan knew she was being stupid. He was probably harmless. She had, after all, only seen him a couple of times. Besides, if she did tell her friends about him, they would probably make her tell Lawrie, and that was something she didn’t want to do.

Over the past week, since she’d had time to adjust to what had happened, she had decided it best that he didn’t know about the guy. Firstly, she knew he was busy and didn’t think it fair to burden him with something that was probably completely trivial. They had both experienced enough of her paranoia over the last few years. Lawrie had just settled into his job and there was no way she was going to give him the additional worry that she thought she might be losing her mind.

Aside from that, she was also scared of how he would react. Although much of the time he was calm and placid, Kylan knew that when really provoked Lawrie had a terrible temper. She had only seen him get mad a couple of times since they’d been together and fortunately neither time had been directed at her. She didn’t believe he was capable of being mad at her and she was glad. His temper was vicious, and she wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end.

The one thing she didn’t need was him going after grocery store guy and getting into trouble. They’d both already had their fair share of that.

He sat on the far side of the room; his face hidden behind a copy of the student newspaper that he’d bought on the way in. She hadn’t seen him; he was sure of that. A couple of times she had glanced round the room and on one occasion both Alison and Donna had also looked, but evidently they’d been satisfied that no one was watching them, and they’d once again become engrossed in conversation. Even Kylan, who looked more than a little jumpy, had joined in and eventually started to relax.

He too relaxed behind his paper as he sipped his acidic coffee and watched.

After ten minutes the three girls got up, cleared their cups away and left the room. He gave them a thirty-second head start then, not bothering to clear away his own cup, he followed. As he crossed the cafeteria, he caught sight of Kylan through one of the large windows. Alison and Donna were no longer with her, and she was heading towards one of the older buildings on the campus.

Licking his dry lips, he stepped through the swing door and started to follow her.

Kylan had literature twice a week, both times in Room 331; it was the only class she had in the old building. Often, she would bump into one of her classmates on the way in and have company walking down the dark corridors. Today she recognised no one and guessed they must already all be in the classroom or running late.

She wished that wasn’t the case. Room 331 was downstairs, one of four classrooms that had been built into the basement, but the only one currently in use. The lighting in the main part of the old building wasn’t good, but downstairs in the basement the dull bulbs flickered on and off at regular intervals.

Telling herself she was stupid for getting spooked so easily, Kylan turned the corner in the corridor, passed the familiar row of red lockers and descended down the stairs that led to the basement. There were twenty-six steps: one flight of twelve, a short corner flight of four and then a final flight of ten that led straight into the basement corridor. She knew how many steps there were because, on the odd occasion she was alone, she always counted them to try and take her mind off the approaching dark basement.

The lower she climbed, the more echoing her footsteps became.

Clack, clack, clack.

Another reminder of the high ceilings and empty walls that awaited her.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and, trying to keep her mind focused on her literature class, walked down to the fork at the end of the corridor. Off to the right, the long corridor led to the boiler and maintenance rooms, and Kylan could hear the faint sound of banging pipes and clattering machinery. She turned left, knowing that once she had passed the three empty classrooms, she would arrive at room 331.

As she passed the first empty room, she realised that there was no noise coming from her literature class. Normally the students were deep in conversation before the lesson began and, even if they weren’t, it was unusual not to hear the odd cough or the sound of shuffling papers.

It was then that she heard the soft thud of footsteps in the corridor behind her.

Expecting it to be a fellow student or maybe her lecturer, she turned and peered into the shadows.

No one was there.

Clutching her books to her chest, Kylan increased her pace and hurried past the other empty doors to Room 331. Not stopping to look behind her, she twisted the knob, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The classroom was empty.

There were no books or pens on the desks and the seats were free from discarded coats and sweaters. No one was there and it looked as though no one had been there for quite some time.

Where the hell is everybody?

She wondered for a brief second if maybe her classmates were playing a trick on her, if they were perhaps all hiding somewhere, waiting to jump out. The idea was stupid, and logic told her they wouldn’t do that. She checked her watch, making sure she had the right time. It was eleven thirty. She was right on schedule. Thinking that maybe she was going crazy, she reached inside her top book for her timetable and scanned the page. Monday, eleven thirty, English Literature… Even as she read the words, she remembered.

In her Thursday class they’d been told that the lesson was being temporarily moved to a different block. No wonder there was no one there. She was in the wrong building. How could she have been so stupid to forget?

The realisation that she was all alone in the basement dawned on Kylan and a feeling of fear gripped the pit of her stomach. Suddenly the clanging of the pipes in the boiler room seemed louder and for the first time she noticed how the dusty bulb overhead was flickering dangerously on and off, the light threatening to cut out completely.

Recalling the footsteps she’d heard a few seconds earlier; she felt a shiver run down her spine.