The Silent Boy (Emma McPherson Book 1) A.J. Flynn (ebook reader play store TXT) 📖

would be spreading stories about me, and I’m sure you understand that a teacher can’t deal with that kind of gossip. The tighter I gripped him the more he struggled. I tried talking to him, but he kept on fighting and trying to scream. I put one hand over his mouth and I guess the other was around his neck. When he finally got quiet, I pulled my hands away and saw that he was dead. It was as easy as that.”

McPherson studied the man’s face as he told the story. She wondered if the shock of what he’d done had numbed his sensibilities, or if he just didn’t care that he’d killed a child in cold blood.

“What you’re saying, Hardwood, is that Charlie caught you fooling around with another man’s wife, so you killed him to keep it quiet. Is that the way you want it presented?”

The murderer glanced up in surprise.

“Well, that’s one hell of a way to put it,” he said sharply.

“What did you do once you realized he was dead?”

“I carried his body out into the woods and set him under a cluster of bushes. Then I covered him with some small brambles.”

“Like a heap of refuse?”

“That’s one hell of a way to put it,” the murderer repeated.

“And how would you prefer it to be put down?”

“For God’s sake, McPherson, if my wife had ever found out what I was up to, she would have taken my daughter and left the house within an hour. And if the school authorities had found out, I’d never be allowed to teach again. Teaching is my life’s work.”

“I think you’re going to learn there are a lot of people who don’t consider your wife’s feelings, or your teaching, to be worth the life of a child.”

“Don’t preach to me,” Hardwood snapped. “I suppose if I’d spent all my time reading detective novels and knew how to dispose of the evidence, you’d think I was quite a fine fellow. Well, let me tell you something. I’m sorry I killed that boy, but I’m not sorry he’s dead. The world would be a better place if we could weed out creatures like him before they were able to grow and reproduce.”

McPherson couldn’t believe her ears. She had met plenty of selfish men in her lifetime, but Hardwood was something else entirely.

“I’ll go along with your notion that the world would be a better place if some people were destroyed at birth, but I’ve never met anybody I’d trust the decision to. Take your case for example. There’s a woman in the hospital, a widow of one day, who was the victim of a brutal assault. In that same hospital lies an elderly man, also a victim of assault, who stands little chance of ever walking again. There’s a young father and husband waiting at home to be arrested for that assault.

“This evening your dear friend’s husband tried to blow his brains out, and once the papers let the public know about her part in your mess, she won’t have a shred of reputation left. And all this can be traced back to the fact that one selfish man thought he was more important than everyone else, so he decided to kill another human being. That man is you, Hardwood. And though you might be able to convince the courts that it was an accident, I know just as well as you do that you wanted him dead.”

The murderer licked his lips and slumped lower in his chair.

McPherson was beginning to think perhaps he was considering what he had done, when he asked, “You don’t suppose they’re going to consider my relationship with Mrs. Johnson as sordid? I’ll have you know that it wasn’t.”

“They’ll think you slept together every day and twice on Sunday,” McPherson shouted. “Why else would you kill to keep it quiet?” Then she stomped to the door and motioned Aiden inside. “He’s ready for his statement.”

Aiden walked over and took Hardwood’s arm and they started to leave, but McPherson’s voice halted them. “If you were common enough to read detective stories, Hardwood, you’d be pleading insanity right about now, but let me warn you, the state psychologists are tough to fool.”

Hardwood didn’t answer, just walked out, followed quickly by Aiden.

When the door closed, McPherson sank down into her chair and gave herself over to her fatigue.

The price of a man’s good name had been too high. Everyone within earshot of the murder had paid a heavy price, but even that wasn’t enough. You can’t buy enough light to blot out the shadow of a killer.

She massaged the stiff muscles on the back of her neck. All she wanted to do was get away and let the stink of all these people and their lies and schemes fade away. They reminded her of ants, picking up all they could carry then running off in every direction in a vain effort to escape the inevitable results of their own actions.

She quietly stood up from her chair, grabbed her coat, and left the office. She was going to her own separate world. The world where everything was decent and honest, because Liam lived there. She smiled as she walked along and thought, I bet he’s found at least four more houses we can do without.

Afterword

Thank you for reading The Silent Boy.

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Much Love,

A.J. Flynn