CHAPTER 1- JUST AN ENDING

The aching inside had come back again, ever since Sarah got his letter last week. He always ended it the same way, but this time there was no 'love you', just an ending.

It wasn't until a week later when she was reading the paper that an article caught her eye 'MAN DEAD IN SATANIC RITUAL'. Somehow she knew before she even read his name that it was him, Thomas Partley, no 'Love you' just an ending.



1 CHAPTER 2- KETTERING AND RUSKILL

Sarah couldn't believe it, her Thomas gone, dead. They hadn't seen each other much over the last month, but they made up for that in letters, but the last one, so completely different from the rest, no love left, just a normal functional letter, weather has been nice, work isn't too bad but still getting him down, been to see 'Dungeons and Dragons' at the cinema with his brother, no 'Love you' just 'Love Thomas P.S. Meet up soon', no mention of killing himself later that night or having any satanic rituals after dinner with some friends, what was going on? Why did he change so suddenly?

"I need to get to the bottom of this, I need to find out exactly what happened to him before he died." A loud knocking at Sarah's door made her jump.

She put the chain on the door and pulled it open as far as the chain would allow, "yes?"

"Miss Harris?" a tall man with strong cheekbones addressed her while a second man stared pensively at her.

"I am", replied Sarah.

"I'm DI Kettering, and this is my colleague DI Ruskill, may we come in I'm afraid we have some bad news for you".

Sarah felt sick and dizzy but managed to get out a few words "Is this about Thomas? I think I know, well… I've just read something in the paper".

"I'm sorry you had to find out that way Miss Harris, his body was found yesterday evening and the bloody press swooped on it, may we come in to discuss this?"

"Oh, yes, sorry", said Sarah, realising she had been addressing the two detectives through a 5 inch crack allowed by the door chain.

Sarah showed the Detectives into her small cosy living room, where the sun was filtering through the heavy nets and filling the room with a strange uplifting glow, it was sunny like that the day she came to view the house, as soon as she stepped into this room she knew that she wanted the place.

"Miss Harris", Ruskill broke her from her thoughts, "is it alright if we sit down? Maybe you should sit down too," Sarah sat awkwardly on the edge of a well-worn armchair, frayed slightly at the bottom; this was due to its use as a scratch post by Sarah's cat.

Once Sarah was seated Ruskill began his grilling, "Can you tell us when you last heard from Mr Partley?"

Sarah suddenly felt cold with the thought of Thomas's last letter, unloving and distant. "Yes, I had a letter from him a week ago, Thursday ".

Without looking up from his notebook, Ruskill continued with his questioning, "When was the last time that you actually saw Mr Partley?"

Sarah thought for awhile it had been strained and uncomfortable the last time she saw Thomas, they had agreed to spend a few weeks apart to get their heads straight, nothing had been the same since Sarah had lost the baby, "about 3 weeks ago, at a coffee shop in Birmingham town centre", said Sarah thinking back realising that they had started to spend more time in public places, where Thomas wouldn't have to be alone with her for long, not long enough for them to talk about their feelings.

"Did Mr Partley seem different to you then? Was there any change in his behaviour, or had he mentioned anything that might indicate that he had been involved in anything illegal?"

"No, not really he just seemed the same as usual", not mentioning the cold indifference that had started to grow in Thomas towards her. "Is there any possibility that it isn't Thomas?" Sarah said in an almost desperate voice as Kettering and Ruskill had started to get up from their seats readying themselves to leave.

"We identified him from his fingerprints, we had to, we had his fingerprints on file so we could identify him pretty quickly." Ruskill seemed to be holding something back as he said his.

"OK then Miss Harris, that'll be all for now, we would appreciate it if you could pop down to the station to give a formal statement in the next day or so. Thanks for your time then." Said the other Detective, Kettering, who had been mute apart from the introduction.

"Yes, I'll come down in the morning if that's alright, I don't think I can face it just yet" Replied Sarah.

"No problem then Miss Harris, if you think of anything else in the meantime that you think might be relevant don't hesitate to contact us. If you come down about 9am then, just ask at reception for D.I Kettering and I'll have someone sent to fetch you, Goodbye for now then Miss Harris."

Sarah closed the door behind them, leant against the door and listened to their footsteps until they had faded away.



2 CHAPTER 3- MICHAEL

A couple of hours had passed since Sarah's visit from Kettering and Ruskill, to Sarah it only seemed like a couple of minutes as she sat in a trance like state against the front door. She was only startled out of her trance by the arrival of the post landing on her head, a heavy compilation of bills and junk mail.

"What should I do now?" Sarah muttered to herself, after a while of thought she decided to do what she always did in a crisis, call Michael, her brother.

It didn't take Michael long to get over to Sarah's, he had also read the article in the paper; he never thought for a moment that he was reading about his little sister's boyfriend.

"Sarah I'm so sorry, are they sure that it's him? I mean it could be a mistake couldn't it?"

"It's definitely Thomas, the police have identified him, they took fingerprints, they had his prints on file because of that theft charge", Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she mentioned the theft.

"Why'd they identify him from fingerprints? Has something been done to his face, I know it said in the paper that he had been attacked with a knife or some other sharp object, I didn't think he might have been cut up or something, just stabbed, maybe attacked by a burglar or something, you know how the press like to blow things out of proportion?"

Tact was never Michael's strong point, and if Sarah ever needed him to be tactful it was definitely now. Sarah's stomach churned at the thought that Thomas's face could be so cut up that he'd have to be identified by finger prints, his soft skin torn apart like a piece of meat.

"I need a drink… let's get out of here", Sarah grabbed her coat and headed for the door, Michael close in tow with an awkward air of realisation about him, a realisation of his problem with foot 'in' mouth disease.

Sarah and Michael didn't have to go far before they found a pub. Michael got the drinks, Sarah's double white rum with just a drop of coke was gone in a couple of gulps, and Michael was back off to the bar with Sarah requesting a triple this time and less coke.

The Barman eyed Michael as if he was about to launch into a verbal or physical assault on him at any moment, Michael's violent reputation tended to precede him. As he handed Michael the drinks he finally spoke "I don't want no trouble in here, she doesn't look like she should be having too many of them" indicating to the triple rum with a downward glance of his eyes.

"There aint going to be any trouble, just had a bit of bad news that's all, we wont be causin' you no bother, we're just here for a quiet drink, OK?" Michael shook a little as he said this, careful not to let the barman see this though, Michael was very conscious of the fact that he had a problem with his temper, and knew that he needed to stay calm now, no matter what the circumstances.

"I just want to keep a pleasant atmosphere in here that's all, want to get the suits in at lunchtime from them office blocks." The Barman had sensed that Michael was a bit of a loose cannon and didn't want him going off in his pub, so he went back to drying glasses behind the bar, keeping a sly eye on Sarah and Michael, poised and ready for trouble if it was coming.

"What was you saying to the barman?" Sarah had noticed how irritable Michael was.

"He thought he knew me from somewhere, just said I didn't think so." Still sounding irritable Sarah knew not to try and push when Michael was in this sort of mood.

"So, how're yer feeling now? You don't seem quite so shaky. That should've taken the edge off yer shock." Michael gestured towards Sarah's empty glass.

"I just can't believe it Mikey, he's dead, who on earth would've wanted to kill him? Why him? He was such a gentle person, admittedly things hadn't been going great for us but I loved him, I can't believe I'll never see him again." Sarah let out a long, wearied sigh.

Michael hugged Sarah to him, noticing the barman twitching nervously behind the bar, careful not to let Michael see that he had been watching them, but Michael had noticed, Michael scowled, his eyes boring into the barman, longing to crush his pathetic little body.

As Michael and Sarah left the Pub the barman breathed a sigh of relief, relieved not to have had a confrontation with Michael, especially when he knew what Michael was capable of.