RED SKATE CHAPTER NINE

The next morning, Charlie and I took a trip to the ice rink. It wasn't really that busy, only about five or six people was onm the ice today.
We went up to the front desk and asked the woman sitting there if she knew who else was skating the night Julia Entwhistle died.
"Sorry, I'm not authorised to give you the answer, like," she said. "That's confidential information, that is, like."
Charlie sighed, then held up his badge.
"We're police officers, okay? Now, will you tell us?"
The woman snapped the Dan Brown she was reading shut. "Sorry," she said. "But I thought you two was journalists, like. We've had them sniffing around since the night of the murder, like."
She opened her Dan Brown and commenced reading again.
"Listen, if you could tell us who else was skating that night?" I said.
The woman looked up and blinked at me.
"Oh, sorry," she said. "I forgot what you asked me, like."
She closed her book, and set it down and the desk, then opened up a file on her computer. She read what was on the file, and then answered: "Well, there was only two people skating that night. Julia Entwhistle was one, like. And the other was another girl her age. Emily Macks, like. They were both training for the Ice Skating Championship, right?"
"Do you know where this Emily Macks lives?" Asked Charlie.
"Sorry, can't say that. Confidential info, like."
"We're police officers, remember? And we're interviewing witnesses to the murder."
The woman blinked. She seemed to do a lot of blinking "Oh, sorry, I forgot, like. Yeah sure, I'll give you her address." The woman opened up another file on the computer.
"You're lucky, she is a regular here. We only have the addresses of our regulars, like. Anyway, she lives at 67 Madison Road, in Mapletown, like. But don't tell her you got her address, right? Because she'll get angry and not come here anymore. We've already lost punters, right? Ever since the murder..."
"Thanks for your time," I interrupted her mid-ramble. "We must be going now."

It took us ages to find Mapletown. In fact, it took us nearly two hours. It wasn't til we arrived somewhere called Maple Avenue, in a little, quaint village called Madison that we realised. The woman at the rink weas a little slapdash, and had mixed up the address. We found number 67; Maple Avenue, in Madison, and knocked on the door.
A girl who looked about sixteen answered.
"May I help you?" She asked.
"Are you Emily Macks?" I asked.
"Yes. What do you want? Look, if it's about that Julia girl, I've already had journalists round here, convinced I killed her because we were the only two skating that night. Well, I didn't, okay?"
She tried to shut the door on us, but Charlie was too quick for her.
"Look, Miss Macks, we're not saying you did, we just want to interview you, as a witness."
A look of relief waved across Emily's face. "Oh. Oh, all right then, you better come in, then."
We followed her in, and she led us upstairs.
"We'd better do it in my bedroom, my mother's in the front room, with a hangover from last night."
Her bedroom was a dismal sight. Black walls, black curtains, black bed. There were also a few purple candles sitting on shelves all around.
"So, I take it you're a Goth, Emily?" I asked, trying to keep things friendly.
"No, I happen to be a vampire," she answred, sarcastically.
She sat down on her bed; Charlie and I followed suit.
"So, what do you want to know?"
"Well, obviously we need to find out who killed Julia," answered Charlie.
"What's that got do with me?"
"Well, sources tell us you were there that night."
"And? You saying I did it?"
"No. We're just interviewing you as a witness. Asking what you saw?"
Emily sat and thought for a moment.
"Well, there were only two of us that night, Julia Entwhistle and me. We were both training for the Ice Skating Championship. I wasn't brilliant that night, I kept falling down every time I stood up. I watched Julia for a few minutes. She was better than me. Graceful, figures of eight, twirls. I got a little bit jealos, to tell you the truth. I couldn't watch anymore, so I went off to get changed and go home." She paused for a minute, to catch her breath, and carried on: "I was in the changing room, taking off my skating number, and back into my hoodie and tracksuits, whjen there was a power cut. The lights went out, just like that," she clicked her fingers. "It went totally black, and I couldn't see what the Hell I was doing. So I just sat there, til the lights came back on, which they did, eventually. When they came back on, I finished getting dresses, and went to leave to go home. To leave, you have to walk through the room where the rink is. As I walked through, I saw a couple of blokes bending over something on the ice. One of the dudes said: 'call 911', and as the other one left to do that, I saw what it was, and gasped. It was Julia Entwhistle. She was dead. She had an ice skate sticking out of her throat, and there was blood everywhere. The sight and the smell made me feel sick, so I went rushing to the toilet and irked up."
When Emily had finished her story, she crossed her arms and looked at us, defiantly.
"Well? Is that it? Or is there something else you need to know?"
I looked at Charlie.
"That'll be all for now," he said. "Thank you for your time, Miss Macks. We'll see ourselves out, and if we need you, we'll give you a call."

As we left the house, I asked: "What do you think of that?"
"I think that Emily may be telling us a little white lie. It seems pretty conveniant that she disappeared just before the murder happened."
"What do you propose we do now?"
"We go back to the ice rink, and ask the owner a few questions."

We got back to the rink. The woman who served us before was still sitting there. This time, however, instead of Dan Brown, she'd got stuck into a Patricia Cornwell.
She looked up, blinking, as we approached the desk.
"Back again?" She asked. "Talking about the murder got me in the mood for a great crime read. This book-" she waved it at us, I caught the title, "The Body Farm", before she snatched it away again - "is a truly great read."
"Well thst's... great," said Charlie. "Listen, is the owner around?"
The woman blinked. "Oh, you mean Mr Gibbs? Sure, he's around. Let me call for him."
She pressed a button on her desk and spoke into an invisible microphone: "Mr Gibbs, there's two police officers asking for you, like!"
Mr Gibbs came out a few seconds later. He was a short hunchbacked man, he reminded me of Danny Devito.
"May I help you?" He said.
"Yes," said Charlie. "We want to ask ytou about the night Julia Entwhisle died."
"Well, she was skating here with Emily Macks. Emily Macks left to get changed 'cos she'd had enough, then there was a power cut afterwards, and when the lights came back on, Julia had been murdered, with an ice skate sticking out her throat."
He looked at us. "That's what happened," he finished.
"Thank you, Mr Gibbs," I told him. "That'll be all."

"Is there anyone else we can interview?" Charlie asked me.
"My ex Jack was in there that night," I answered. "But I've already asked him his side of the story. He was in here with a mate, so we could interview his mate."
"Okay. Do you know about his mate?"
"No. But Jack is staying at some hotel. I could call him and ask him."

After I'd called Jack, I turned to Charlie, and said: "Okay, Jack's mate is called Alex Barker. He lives on the same street as Emily would you believe?"

We pulled up at Maple Avenue again. It turned out Alex lived two houses away from Emily. She came out of her house as we got out of the car.
"You're not back again, are you?" She asked.
"No," I called back. "We're here to interview someone called Alex Barker."
"Oh. He lives two doors away," Emily answered, as she went back inside.
We walked up the path leading to his front door, and rang the doorbell.
He answered. I became overwhelmed by how tall he was. He was really tell, anway, but the straight up, straight down suit he was wearing made him look even taller.
"Are you two police officers. My mate Jack told me you'd be coming. I suppose you want to come in." He stepped aside and showed us inside.

Find out what happens next in Chapter Ten...