Delete-Man: A Psychological Thriller by Johnny Vineaux Page A

you.”
    “I already got it.”
    I scrambled around the room for
clothes and shoved myself into them.
    “Lunch, keys… Have you got your
reading pack?”
    “That’s tomorrow. Come on!”
    “Ok, good. Let’s go.”
    I grabbed Vicky’s hand and we
left the house. The moment we got to the street I realised I’d
forgotten my watch, and continued hurriedly down the road.
    “Why are you walking funny?”
    “I told you, I hurt my knee
yesterday.”
    “Are you alright?”
    “Yeah, it’ll be fine after a few
days.”
    We reached the gates just as a
teacher was about to close them. The children were already lined up
in the playground and walking into the school one line at a
time.
    “Sorry we’re late. Can she go
in?”
    “We’re not supposed to let
children in once they’re lined up, you’ll have to go through the
front office.”
    “Please, I can see her class is
still there. It’s my fault, I can’t walk very fast.”
    I gestured towards the bloody,
ripped hole in my jeans, the scabby bruise visible beneath it, and
realised that wasn’t the best thing to show a school teacher. She
frowned at me. I shrugged pathetically.
    “Go on then. Since you haven’t
been late before.”
    “Thanks.”
    I kissed Vicky and made sure her
clothes were tidy then sent her running off to join her class.
    “I know you. Ms. Robinson,
right? I saw you at the last parent’s day.”
    The teacher closed the gates and
began locking them.
    “That’s right. How is your
mother, is she still in hospital?”
    “Yes, unfortunately.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that. Is she
going to be ok?”
    “We’re still not sure. We’re
hoping.”
    “Give her my best wishes.”
    “I will. Thank you very much,
Ms.”
    I gave Vicky a wave as she
walked inside with her class, smiled at Ms.Robinson before she
turned to join them, and left.
    On the way home, I stopped off
and bought some plasters, a knee support, some cream the pharmacist
recommended for my bruises, and a new notepad. I considered for a
brief second buying something for my headache, but knew I would
never take it if I did.
    I saw that Vicky had cleaned up
a little when I got home. The kitchen looked tidy, and she had even
washed the plate that had held the cake. I hoped she had taken it
with her as a desert for lunch, and not eaten it exclusively for
breakfast. I set to work making a good, big breakfast for myself,
and ate it while I put my thoughts in order. Once done, I pulled
out the notepad and began writing notes on everything I had
discovered up to that point.

    Josie was interested in
delete-man, message on roof, and Sewerbird’s art

    Claude Packard told Sewerbird
about the delete-man, who then told Josie

    Delete-man could be linked to
djinn mumbo-jumbo

    Josie was seeing a
psychiatrist

    Claude Packard killed
himself

    I stared at it for a while,
trying to think of anything I missed. With some degree of
hesitation I then wrote:

    Monika mimicked Josie (????)

    Writing it all out made me
realise just how little I had actually found out, and how far I had
become side-tracked from the question of Josie’s death. I picked up
the phone, and dialled Bianca’s number. It rang through to the
answering machine and I slammed the phone back down. I picked up
the pen and wrote:

    Bianca loved Josie

    For some reason, writing it down
felt like uncovering a truth. I tried to consider it from all
angles, to find some logical step between any of the things I had
written, and what I was trying to discover. I tore the sheet off
the pad and laid it to the side. On a new sheet I wrote:

    Why did Josie kill herself?

    Who killed Josie?

    Despite my efforts to be
pragmatic, I began to feel light-headed and emotional, so decided
to take a break. I left the notepad and went to the bathroom to
attempt shaving. After managing to half-decently shave without
scarring myself further, I applied plasters to the wound, and
treated my knee with the cream I had bought before slipping the
knee support