A Visit

John Daniels clicked on the kettle, grabbed a mug from the overhead cupboard and shot a teabag in from a couple metres away basketball style. “Boom!” he shouted out, celebrating away to himself.

He turned to look out at the back garden – kids toys everywhere he shook his head and added it to the list of things he knew he really should sort out but probably wouldn’t – as the kettle let out a low rumble before rocketing to boiling point. He was violently squeezing the life out of the poor teabag and pouring in what appeared to be a 50/50 split of milk to the boiling water as the doorbell went. Probably another parcel from Amazon, “what’s she ordered this time” he muttered as he made his way from the kitchen, through their living room and towards the front door in the hall. Through the frosted glass he could see two figures dressed in black, white and incredibly bright yellow, his stomach raced up and landed smack bang in his throat. Police. 

His suspicions were confirmed on opening the door to two officers stood incredibly close to the doorway. John took a step back, quickly looking up and down the street before setting eyes on the two officers. 

“Mr Daniels?” asked a female officer with a smile. 

“Aye, what’s wrong? What’s happened?” John’s brain was a 100 metre sprint of possibilities, all of them battling to get to the front. 

“Can we come in sir?” said the male policeman. It momentarily flicked through John’s mind that he didn’t look old enough to drive let alone be serving and protecting. 

“Course, aye. Aye, come in” It was all he could say as he retreated into the the living room setting about tidying away toys and clothes left lying on the couches and the floor. He switched off a blaring TV and sat down on the edge of a couch seat. The two police officers had made their way in and sat down on the other couch opposite him. 

“What’s going on?” John asked, still battling with all the possibilities that had led 2 police officers to turn up on his doorstep out the blue and asking to come in. They’d only really ask to come in if it was something bad. Wouldn’t they? John reckoned that if he’d done something, which he couldn’t think that he had, they wouldn’t politely come in and sit in his living room. No, maybe someone in the street had had a break-in. It often seems to happen around January he reasoned with himself. He then mentally cursed himself for the conversation him, his wife and some friends had over the Christmas period about living a boring, drama-less life compared to some people they heard about. Why would they have said that? It’s jinxed us!

The male officer pulled out a pad and pen and looked towards his female colleague who took off her hat and smiled at John. 

“Mr Daniels, sorry to arrive out the blue like this. We’d just like to ask you a few questions about someone, that’s all. We wondered if you knew a man by the name of Steven Morrison?”

Relief flooded John’s system, the adrenaline dumping it’s way out of his veins, his shoulders dropped and he allowed himself to relax a little. Nothing to do with the kids, nothing to do with Julie. 

“Aye, I don’t know him, know him if you know what I mean” laughed John “but he was in my year at school. We’re not mates but we were back in school. We were actually in Primary School together then went to the same Secondary School too. Has something happened to him?” And why are you here asking about him? he thought. 

The male officer was furiously scribbling away in his pad as John squirmed on his couch wondering if he was saying the right things. What was he implicating himself in here?

“OK, thanks, that’s what we thought but just wanted to be sure. What about a Karen Ogilvie?” asked the female officer. 

Karen Ogilvie? John thought for a second but was sure he didn’t know that one. “Nah, not heard that name before, I don’t think anyway.” 

The female policewoman nodded, nodded at her partner who nodded back. Lots of nodding, thought John. 

“What about a Karen Dunleavie? That would have been her maiden name. Do you recognise that one?”

John definitely knew that name. Karen Dunleavie. 

“Aye, definitely know Karen. Again, I grew up with her in school, both Primary and Secondary. Not really known her in my adult life apart from following on social media, Facebook and that. Couple messages here and there, “how’s life”. That sort of thing.” He made another nervous laugh and hoped he was saying the right things as the male policemen continued to scribble. 

“What’s going on? has something happened to them?”

The female officer smiled in response. Please stop with the insincere smile and tell me why youse are here thought John. 

“Mr Daniels, unfortunately Mr Morrison and Mrs Ogilvie’s bodies were both found last night, unresponsive. We’re treating their deaths as suspicious at the moment.” There was clearly more to come but she stopped there and looked at John. The male officer looked up from his pad then scribbled again. 

“Bloody hell, they’re both dead?” blurted out John. His thought process began to scramble as did his guts, why are they here telling me this? 

“Yes, unfortunately. Our colleagues are in the process of informing their next of kin today. To be blunt with you Mr Daniels, we suspect both Steven Morrison and Karen Ogilvie were murdered”

John’s fear and anxiety took over his body as he began to shake. Two people his age both murdered? Bloody terrifying. “Why would they have been murdered?” John asked. He immediately realised how childlike he sounded and shook his head. “I mean, that’s awful, obviously, but why are you here telling me this? I’m sorry, I’m really confused.”

The female police officer gently stood up and walked over to sit beside John. He shuffled backwards on the couch a little, uncomfortable with how close she sat to him whilst feeling unsure on whether he should be bracing himself for being arrested and bundled into the back of a van, never to see his family again. 

“Mr Daniels, in both cases, Steven Morrison and Karen Ogilvie were found with a piece of paper next to them with a list of three names on them. Each of their names were scored out. The final name on both pieces of paper was yours.”