M. Arlidge: Liar Liar

‘Recognize any faces?’

Sanderson shook her head.

‘What about our local arsonists? Have we run them down?’ Helen continued.

‘We’ve got seven on our list – all of whom have committed fire-related offences in the County in the past twelve months. The majority of them did it for insurance fraud and the others are just kids. We’ve chased down four – verifiable alibis so far – and we’re on to the last three. But there’s no one on the list who’s attempted anything of this magnitude before.’

‘Keep trying. Also let’s run a national search to see if there have been any other instances of coordinated arson attacks in the last two to three years. This guy’s MO is pretty specific, not to mention well executed. I’d say he’d had practice.’

Sanderson nodded, promising to expedite this search, then resumed her viewing. In truth she just wanted to be away from here. She wanted fresh air, light, happiness. She wanted to be away from the stench of death.

Helen strode into the incident room and was pleased to see the team was hard at work. Everyone at Southampton Central had been shocked by last night’s crimes – many were fearful of what they might presage – so they were pulling out all the stops. It always cheered Helen to see how her officers were willing to cancel their plans and put their personal lives on hold when the job demanded it. It was inconvenient for family and loved ones, but a woman had died. Karen Simms deserved justice and Helen was hopeful her Major Investigation Team would deliver exactly that.

As she was scrolling through a mental list of important tasks that lay ahead, Helen noticed DC McAndrew approaching. She could tell by her face and the spring in her step that she had something of note to tell her.

‘Something for you, boss.’

McAndrew handed Helen a sheaf of papers. They appeared to be a bundle of bank statements and credit card bills.

‘I’ve been running the rule over the Simms family like you suggested. Thomas Simms runs a small business – “AEK trading” – from a warehouse on the Grawston industrial estate. It’s a practical spot and the rents are fair -’

‘But?’ Helen interrupted, keen to get to the point.

‘But the business is on the brink of going under. He’s been paying staff wages via his credit cards, withdrawing cash on them at extortionate rates.’

‘That’s crazy.’

‘Exactly, but he’s just not getting the business any more. He lost a contract with a couple of high street stores twelve months ago and has never managed to find replacements. Bigger players can bring in the clothes cheaper – basically he’s too small to get noticed, but too big to stay afloat financially. Just too many outgoings.’

Helen felt a twinge of sympathy for Thomas Simms. His wife didn’t work, so the family’s financial welfare was down to him. What must it have felt like to watch a business of over ten years’ standing slowly dying in front of you?

‘And here’s the really interesting bit,’ McAndrew continued. ‘There seem to be other payments to staff – cash payments again – that don’t come from credit card withdrawals.’

Helen looked down a line of payroll transactions that McAndrew was indicating.

‘All in all it totals over fifteen thousand pounds.’

‘Any invoices? Did he make this from sales?’

‘Can’t see any. He hasn’t taken in that kind of money in ages. He seems to have been buying a new line of clothes from Malaysia -’

‘Hoping that something will finally stick.’

McAndrew shrugged.

‘Either way, he was heavily in debt. I’ve checked – the house insurance was renewed three months ago and there’s a hefty payout in case of fire.’

‘Even so, I can’t see it, can you?’

‘Stranger things have happened,’ McAndrew replied calmly.

‘He’s got a solid alibi, he’d be a fool to do it when his family were there and, besides, it was so obviously arson – the insurance company would never pay out.’

‘Desperate times prompt desperate acts.’

Helen pondered this new line of enquiry. She had seen men lose everything and destroy their families rather than face up to it – one incident particularly was burnt in her memory. If Thomas Simms was in the throws of a nervous breakdown, it was possible he might have done something desperate and foolhardy. He seemed so smitten with his family though and so devastated by the loss of his wife. Had a crazy plan gone badly wrong somehow? Had an accomplice set the fire and messed it up?

As Helen thanked McAndrew and headed for the exit, she knew there was no point speculating about it. There was only one way to find out the truth about Thomas Simms.

Ask him.

‘I don’t see what this has to do with Karen’s death. I’m sorry, but I really don’t.’

Thomas Simms was hostile and defensive. He had been since the moment they’d suggested it would be best to conduct their interview away from the wards in a private room. His evident frustration could be down to his anger at having been pulled away from Alice’s bedside or it might be something else. Helen was determined to find out which.

She was flanked by Charlie, who already seemed to have a good rapport with the family. This was her forte – the human side of an investigation – and Helen was glad to have her here. It had been a while since they’d worked so closely together on a case.

‘We’re just trying to establish a full and accurate picture of the family situation.’

‘The family situation?’ Thomas countered incredulously.

‘So we can ascertain why your house was targeted,’ Helen continued unabashed. ‘We’re not judging anyone or prying, but we do need to know what was happening in your lives.’

‘Best do this now, Thomas,’ Charlie interjected softly, ‘then we can leave you alone to support your family. If there was any reason why someone might have targete-’

‘What makes you think it wasn’t random?’ was the assertive response. ‘You see it all the time on the news. Messed-up kids, setting things alight because they’ve had a rough time or are bored or -’

‘That may well be the case, but there are several aspects of this attack which suggest otherwise. Petty acts of vandalism are seldom carried out on residential properties. It’s nearly always derelict buildings, playgrounds, schools – somewhere out of the way where there’s no CCTV, no possible witnesses. Family homes are very rarely targeted randomly.’

For once Thomas Simms had no comeback.

‘Furthermore, whoever attacked your house broke in. They had to access your garden first – which presented a risk – then they had to break the glass in the back door, while people were at home. In setting the fire centrally within the house, they took another risk – all of which indicates that this was not a random crime. Whoever did this was organized and determined, and I would suggest had probably scoped out the house beforehand. They appear to have been very committed to targeting your house, despite the very real possibility of discovery and apprehension.’

Helen let her words settle. The strain was showing now on Thomas and Helen didn’t want to break him with a barrage of questions or insinuations. She had to proceed but needed to do so cautiously – it was horrifying to have to process the idea that someone had gone to such effort to decimate your family. Simms sat silent now, rubbing his face with his hands. Already the fight had gone out of him and Helen knew from many years of interrogating suspects that this was her opportunity.

‘We’ve discussed the difficulties your business faced – none of them of your own making – and the way you maximized your credit to stay afloat.’