The Dead Room by Chris Mooney Read Free Book Online Page B

the ransacked house with all of its blood and broken glass, than it was to watch the twelve-year-old boy’s face.
    A memory came to her: squeezing her father’s big and callused hand. It was the size of a baseball mitt. He lay in a hospital bed similar to this one, hooked up to tubes and monitors, and she had dug her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood, knowing he would wake up before the doctor removed him from life support.
    ‘I’m sorry, John. I’m truly sorry for what you’re going through.’
    At last the awful crying ended. He grabbed several tissues and wiped his face.
    She placed the digital recorder on the bed. ‘When you’re ready to talk, and with your permission, I’d like to tape this conversation. That way I can listen to you and not take notes. Is that okay?’
    John nodded.
    ‘I’ll help you through this. Sometimes I may have to interrupt you with a question or I may ask you to clarify something. I need to make sure I have all the facts straight in my head. If you don’t understand something, ask, okay?’
    He cleared his throat. ‘Okay.’
    The boy clearly didn’t know where to start.
    Gently, she said, ‘Tell me about the people who came inside your house.’
    ‘There were two of them. Two men. I was on the sofa watching TV when I heard the door open. I thought it was my mom coming home so I didn’t get up.’
    ‘You were home alone?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And where was your mom?’
    ‘She said she had to go to a couple of job interviews and do some errands and wouldn’t be back until late. She told me to stay inside the house until she got home.’
    ‘Why? Was your mom worried about something?’
    ‘She was always worried. No matter where we lived, she was always telling me to make sure the apartment was locked up. She’d always make sure the windows were locked before she went to bed. Every day when I came home from school, she’d call to ask if everything was okay. I thought… My mom didn’t make a lot of money and we never lived in the best neighbourhoods. When we were in Los Angeles, our apartment got broken into and she freaked out. Two weeks later we were living in Asbury Park. That’s in New Jersey.’
    ‘Did you move around a lot?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Do you know why?’
    ‘I think it has something to do with her parents,’ John said. ‘They were murdered before I was born. She never got into specifics or anything. The only thing she told me was that the people who did it were never caught. I think she was scared they might come for her or something.’ He swallowed and then took in a sharp breath. ‘And they did. They found us and killed her.’
    ‘You said “they”. There was more than one person?’
    ‘You mean inside my house?’
    ‘We’ll get to that. I want to know about the people who murdered your grandparents.’
    ‘I don’t know names or anything. My mom just said people came into her parents’ house one night and shot them to death while they were sleeping. My mom said she wasn’t there – I don’t know where she was. She told me these people were never caught.’
    ‘What are the names of your grandparents?’
    ‘I don’t know. My mom never talked about them. I don’t even know where they lived. I asked her – I was, you know, curious about what had happened – but she wouldn’t go into any details. I think that’s what made her paranoid about using computers.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘She never went on the internet to order anything. She couldn’t, anyway, ’cause she didn’t have a credit card – she always paid cash for everything. She thought people could spy on you if you were on the internet.’
    ‘Was she worried these men who murdered your grandparents would somehow find her?’
    ‘I guess. I mean, that’s what I thought.’
    ‘Do you know how old your mother was when her parents died?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Where did she go to live?’
    ‘I don’t know. I’m sorry.’
    ‘You don’t have to apologize, John. You’re