The English Boys Read Online Free

behind them.
    â€œGet back, everyone,” someone shouted. Daniel looked up to see his father taking command in the panicked room. “Give them some room!”
    Daniel’s hands were shaking. He wondered how he had known to run to her. Had it been a premonition, or had he wanted to protect the one he loved? He leaned back to give Hugh and Tamsyn’s parents more room, but he was damned if he was going to leave her side, no matter what anyone said.
    Tamsyn was gone. The person he loved most was lying dead in front of him. And just like that, without a single warning, his entire world came crashing down.

Three
    The crowd began to react. Some of the women were crying; others had to sit to prevent themselves from fainting. Someone was sick in the corner of the room. Daniel felt ill himself. Hugh still crouched on the floor, clutching Tamsyn’s limp hand, leaning forward to prevent anyone else from coming near. Blood seemed to be everywhere: on their clothes, the floor, and the wall. Daniel stood, heart pounding in his chest, unable to accept what had happened. She couldn’t be dead. It wasn’t possible.
    By the time the police arrived, someone had taken him by the shoulders and sat him down in a chair. People were speaking to him and around him, but the words didn’t make any sense.
    Everyone who had not been seated in the church was then led down the East Cloister into a room that looked as though its chief function was for storage. Unlike in the formal rooms of the Abbey, there were no Waterford crystal chandeliers, no votive candle stands depicting the Christ or the Blessed Virgin Mary. There were no stained glass windows; in fact, there were no windows at all in the dimly lit room, where folding chairs that had been propped against the wall long ago were now being dusted off to seat the crowd.
    Suddenly, Daniel was angry. The police were wasting valuable time. Family and friends were being rounded up like suspects while whoever killed Tamsyn had slipped right past them and was probably miles away by now. He glanced at his watch. Barely half an hour had passed since the police had been summoned. Beside him, Hugh stared at the blank wall, unseeing, his crisp white shirt stained red with blood. Carey’s face was wooden, unlike the painful displays of emotion around her. She stood with one arm around her mother, who had begun to weep. Daniel brought them both chairs. Mrs. Burke allowed herself to be helped into one, her husband taking the one beside her.
    â€œThank you,” Carey murmured.
    He nodded, looking at his own parents and brother, Alex, who sat at the back of the room, talking in hushed tones. Cliques formed among the anxious crowd, people already growing suspicious of one another. The Ashley-Hunts sat nearest the door, as if desperate to escape, and assorted cousins and friends stood in groups of three or four talking amongst themselves. Before long, a detective entered and stood in the center of the room.
    â€œHave a seat, everyone,” he said, gesturing to the chairs. He was a short but elegant man, a far cry from the bleary-eyed, coffee-stained sort of policeman they might have expected. He looked to be around fifty, and his calm demeanor might have soothed everyone had the crime been less shocking. “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Murray, and we’re going to take statements. I have three constables here who will speak to you, one or two at a time. This can be a fairly quick process if everyone cooperates. Find a chair and cease talking for a few minutes as we prepare to begin.”
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Mr. Burke called out. He struggled to his feet. “Why aren’t you trying to find out who’s done this?”
    â€œThere may be witnesses in this room, sir,” Inspector Murray replied. “We have to find out what was seen and heard in the minutes prior to Miss Burke’s death. It is important that we speak to everyone