Page 103 of D for Dead

‘Aren’t you curious to know if there’s anyone else down there? He could have done this kind of thing again. Unlikely it was a one off.’

‘No, I’m not curious.’

It was a lie. Troy was, and had thought about the murder house a lot over the past few years, wondering what was happening in the basement and if there had been other victims. He had been tempted to return, but had never been able to pluck up the courage.

‘Come on, Troy, we have to go,’ Cap pleaded. ‘You can’t tell me this and expect me to forget about it. I really want to see inside.’

Troy hesitated. With two of them they had safety in numbers. He was curious, but also reluctant to put himself back into a bad situation.

‘I dunno. I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

‘We can go now. Be in and out in ten minutes.’ When Troy continued to ponder, Cap added slyly, ‘Or of course I could go by myself.’

‘You wouldn’t.’

‘Sure I would. I’m not afraid of an old basement.’

‘It’s not just an old basement. It’s what happened there.’

‘I’m not afraid of that either.’

‘You’re nuts. Why do you want to go there so badly?’

‘Because I like creepy shit.’

‘No kidding.’

‘So what’s it gonna be, Troy? You gonna make me go on my own or are you gonna come and be my wingman?’

Troy pulled in his rod, set it to one side.

Cap wasn’t going to drop this. He should never have told him. ‘Okay, but in and out in ten minutes. That’s it.’

* * *

It was fully dark by the time they reached the house, and creeping around back, seeing the same window lit and the television playing, had Troy reliving the past and feeling the butterflies fluttering in his belly. He felt twelve again and more afraid than he would ever let on to Cap.

The hatchway door was hard to get open. Age had stiffened and swelled the wood and it took the full strength of both of them to yank it open. The door squeaked as they pulled it back and both boys paused. Troy’s heart thumped, terrified in case it had disturbed Johnson. They waited a full ten seconds before descending the stairs. This time round there was no moonlight to help guide their way down the stone steps and Cap lit a match so they could be sure not to trip.

Troy guided him to the door, the one he had stood behind five years earlier and watched as Amy and Danielle were attacked by Johnson. There was no light coming from the other side and Cap lit another match, casting a faint shadowy glow on the room. The door on the far side of the room, the one Amy had made her escape through, was closed. Probably locked.

Cap pushed the door open, ignoring Troy’s hesitant grip on his arm. The dying match showed him where the one bare bulb hung centre of the room and he went to it, pulled the cord. Weak light bathed the room and Troy glanced around, recognising the table on which the body had lain, the chains hanging from the ceiling that had held Danielle prisoner, and the wall of tools Johnson had used to torture her.

‘Wow. This shit did happen.’ Cap’s voice was a whisper, but the excitement in his tone was unmistakable. With no sense of fear he was already over at the table, running the palm of his hand over the wooden surface. ‘You can see the blood markings in the wood.’ His attention turned to the chains. ‘That’s where he had Danielle, right?’

‘Yeah, that’s right.’ Troy shuffled his feet uncomfortably, staying by the door. ‘We should get going before he finds us.’

Cap wasn’t listening. He was already over at the wall, running his finger along the blade of a saw. ‘This is insane, man. This guy is like a serial killer.’

‘We don’t know that. No one else has gone missing from town.’

‘Not that you know of. Look around, man. This room wasn’t geared up for a one-off kill. This shit has all the markings of a serial killer’s den. I’ve read books on this stuff. I know how it works.’

Cap wandered back over to where the chains hung, crouched to the floor and dabbed his finger in something. ‘See, I told you I was right.’ He held up his finger to show Troy the dark tip and grinned broadly. ‘Fresh blood. Someone has died here recently.’

31

Troy Cunningham hadn’t killed Nadine Williams.