It Started With a Murder

Chapter Thirteen

Murphy’s mum nods and gives me a scowl, “One sign of trouble and your out.”

I’m about to answer but she’s already left the room; leaving me alone with Murphy. “So, how are you?” I ask, staring at the floor.

“Oh, I’m great. I love this, being forced out of school, stuck at home. Everyone thinks I killed her, even my parents,” Murphy hisses.

I look up at Murphy and frown, “Did you do it?”

Murphy looks surprised for a second before laughing harshly, “Do you know, you’re the first person to ask me that? Everyone else just assumes, they straight out ask me, ‘why did you do it?’ or ‘how did you do it?’, but you surprise me, especially since you are the one who sent Annabelle’s fake diary into the police.”

I sigh, “It’s not fake and you would’ve done the same thing. I don’t know why I ever doubted it was you, you have the eyes of a killer.”

Murphy laughs incredulously, “The eyes of a killer! Are you insane?” Shaking her head, she stares at me, her eyes blazing with anger, “I did not kill Annabelle. I did find out that she had been sleeping with my boyfriend but so had your sister, if it was me, why isn't she dead in a ditch somewhere? After all, if I was a killer I’d prefer to kill your bitchy sister over Annabelle, no matter how backstabbing she turned out to be.”

I stay silent for a few seconds before asking something which had been confusing me ever since we found out that Murphy was the killer, “Murphy, why did you ask me to help find the killer with you, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“None of this makes any sense, Cathie, because I am not the killer.”

I shake my head, feeling confused, “It was in Annabelle’s diary…” I look up at Murphy and trail off.

“It was stuck in at the back of her diary.” Murphy says, her eyes glinting with something that looks a lot like hope, as though she had been in a very dark tunnel and she’s just found a way to get out of it.

“I don’t understand.” I admit, ignoring the look in Murphy’s eyes.

Murphy gets up and practically flings herself onto the sofa beside me, I flinch, thinking she’s going to hit me but she just grabs onto my hands. “Cathie, I think I know what happened.”

I try to ignore the fact that Annabelle’s murderer is holding my hands and instead look her in the eyes and ask, “Go on then, what do you think happened?”

Murphy takes a deep breath then begins, “I think that the killer, the real killer, forced Annabelle to write those extra things for her diary the night they killed her. They wanted to frame me.”

“But why would they want to frame you? And who do you think the real killer is then? I mean, no offence, but you do have the best motive.”

Murphy stays silent for a minute, staring at nothing, “I had no more of a motive than Pearl, if she’s telling the story and she is… or was in love with Josh then we both had exactly the same motive.” Murphy pauses, waiting for me to speak but I have nothing to say so she continues, “Pearl killed Annabelle because they hated each other and because Pearl wanted Josh, so she framed me to get me out of the way. Think about it, Annabelle’s dead, I’m on my way to prison and everyone hates Josh. So she can go over to him, show him so kindness, prove that she’s a forgiving person, he falls for her because he has nothing else left and Pearl has exactly what she wants, a relationship with Josh where she’s in charge.”

“That’s insanity.” I mutter, though even to my ears I sound weak and completely uncertain.

“Do some digging, then tell me it’s insanity.” Murphy says, her eyes boring into mine. “I’d suggest checking out Percy, I still think he had something to do with the killing, it wouldn’t surprise me if Pearl had got him to help her out. Please just check it out, there is no harm in digging.”

I stare at Murphy for a minute and feel a part of me believing her, somehow her story sounds so much more truthful than Pearl’s but then I think about it, why do I have to complicate everything? I am staring into the eyes of Annabelle’s murderer and letting her hold my hands.

I shake her hands off of me and stand up, “I’m going home,” I say, making my way to the living room door and pause before walking out of it, “And you’re going to jail.”

I hear Murphy’s sigh follow me out of the room as I storm out the house and into the cold, December air. I practically race home, wanting to be with people who can reassure me that it Murphy is the killer, that Murphy has to be the killer.

Bursting through my front door, I nearly crash into mum, “Hello honey, are you okay?” She asks, looking at me anxiously.

“Fine,” I force a smile onto my face, “Is Pearl in?”

Mum smiles back and shakes her head, “No, she’s just popped out with that boy from up the street, what’s his name? You know him, the one they thought murdered Annabelle.”

“Adrian? Where’s she gone with Adrian?”

Mum shrugs, “I’m not entirely sure, apparently you showed him some really nice place a couple of weeks ago and he wanted to show it to Pearl, isn’t that sweet? I’m so glad she’s making friends especially after the awful things she’s gone through, I feel so terrible, I should’ve been there for her.”

Mum continues talking about how bad she feels but I’m not listening, I feel like punching something, or throwing up, or both. It’s same selfish jealousy I always feel when I know that they’re together only so much stronger.

“I’m going upstairs.” I say, cutting into mum’s Pearl-pitying monologue.

I run up the stairs and storm into Pearl’s room, having no clue as to what I’m doing, just feeling so angry, she steals away everything of mine.

I’m about to start trashing her room out of pure anger, when I remember her diary, glancing around towards the door, I make the decision, I pluck it from the shelf and begin flicking through it. I skim everything until I reach the back page where a mobile number is written.

Out of pure curiosity I dial the number into my mobile and ring it, if I don’t recognise the voice on the other end of the line I could always hang up.

The phone rings five times before an angry voice snaps, “What?” from the other end.

“Percy?”

“Cathie? Is that you?” Percy asks, his voice smoothing out to sound far more charming.

“It is, I really wanted to ask you, do you think we could have a study date sometime soon, it’s just I’m really falling behind in… urm, in Biology and I need someone strong and intelligent like you to help me out with it.” I say, trying not to cringe at my desperate excuse for flirting.

“Sure thing babe, I’ll help you out. How about you come round mine tomorrow, my parents won’t be back until late.”

“Sure thing, see you then.” I giggle, before quickly hanging up and shuddering out of disgust.

At least I got what I wanted, as long as I could distract Percy, I could have a free roam of his house. After all, Murphy’s right, there’s no harm in digging.