M. Arlidge - Liar Liar

‘Helen?’

It was softly spoken but still made her jump. Someone was in the room with her. The voice wasn’t familiar or at least not in this context. Straightening up, she was surprised to find Gardam standing in the doorway.

‘Sorry, I did knock three times, but you didn’t seem to hear me.’

His eyes were cast down as he spoke and Helen realized that she was still half dressed. Torn between sitting like an idiot with a sheet pulled across her chest or getting dressed, she chose the latter – scurrying across to the wardrobe and rifling through it for a fresh blouse and suit. As she pulled her clothes on, Gardam carried on speaking, his eyes still fixed to the floor to spare her blushes.

‘I know the team’s due in shortly and I wanted to catch you before your briefing, so we can talk about our media strategy. The press conference is scheduled for eleven a.m.’

Smoothing down her clothes, Helen emerged from her impromptu changing area. She had her professional face on now, but felt embarrassed at having been caught out in this way.

‘I meant to talk to you about that,’ she replied evenly. ‘Press liaison isn’t really my thing -’

‘It’s ok. I’m happy to field them if you want, but if you change your mind -’

‘Thank you, sir. I think it’s important that I stay with the team.’

‘I agree. So what have we got for them?’

‘Well, we’re still sifting the intel from last night, but we do have one interesting lead – CCTV footage of a man running away from the house in Bevois Mount shortly before the blaze began. I’ve run off stills that we should share with the media – see if anyone recognizes him. I’m also going to show them to Gary Spence – I’d like to see his reaction, in case the man turns out to be one of his lackeys. But in truth I’m not holding out much hope. We’ve yet to establish any link between Spence and the properties targeted last night and I’m just not sure it’s his style – it’s a very public and messy way to conduct business.’

‘So what are we looking at?’

‘Well, they could be personally motivated attacks, given the concerted effort to kill. Or they could be about the fires themselves – somebody enjoying the chaos they’ve created, without a thought for the human cost.’

‘So what line do we want to take with the press?’

‘We appeal for witnesses, stress the need for vigilance and bring them up to speed with our progress.’

Helen continued in this vein, trying to sound upbeat about their ongoing searches, but truth be told – CCTV aside – there was nothing ‘juicy’ for the press to get their teeth into yet. Helen wasn’t sure how Gardam would react to this. Some station chiefs seemed to relish disappointing the fourth estate – depriving them of sensational titbits they craved – others panicked if they didn’t have anything substantial to lay before them. Helen despised these appeasers, but Gardam didn’t appear to be one of them. He seemed supremely relaxed about the grilling he was about to undergo.

‘How is the team?’ he continued, changing the subject without warning.

‘Tired but determined.’

‘And you?’

‘I’m fine.’

‘I’m sure you are, but don’t feel you have to take the weight of the world on your shoulders, Helen. I know you like to lead from the front, but we’re a team – or at least we should be.’

‘Of course.’

‘Which is a roundabout way of saying that my door’s always open. It’s important that senior officers have someone they can talk to.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Speaking of which, I was going to ask you if you would like to come round to dinner at our place one evening? Sarah and I would love to get to know you a little better, in less formal surroundings.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’

‘We’ll make a date, then. And of course you should feel free to bring someone with you, if you want.’

It was said in an open, friendly manner, but Helen could sense that a question lay beneath Gardam’s amiable offer.

‘Just me, I’m afraid,’ Helen replied.

‘And are you ok with that?’

For a moment, Helen was silent – surprised by the bluntness of the question.

‘I don’t mean to pry,’ Gardam continued. ‘But I’m aware that you don’t have any family locally and I’ve seen talented officers get eaten up by the pressures of the job, simply because they don’t have anyone to share their burden with. I’d hate to see that happen to you. Do you have someone you can talk to?’

‘I have a very supportive team,’ Helen replied cautiously.

‘And outside of that?’

‘Really I’m fine. But if it ever gets too much, I’ll be sure to let you know.’

‘I’ll hold you to that. And I meant what I said. I’m happy to talk any time – I don’t want there to be any barriers between us. It’s not in your best interests and it’s certainly not in mine.’

Smiling, he patted her on the shoulder and took his leave, bestowing his cheery optimism on the officers who were starting to gather in the incident room as he left. It had been a pleasant enough encounter, but it left Helen with many questions. Why had be been probing her for information? Why was he so interested in her personal life?

And how long had he been standing there before she woke up?

‘We’re still waiting on DNA results to confirm the identity of our victim, but we’re assuming for now that it is Denise Roberts. She’s a single mum who lives with her son at the address that was targeted last night. I’ve already spoken to Callum Roberts and got a pretty clear idea of the family situation and her lifestyle. We also have CCTV footage which may be helpful.’

Helen hit the remote control and some grainy footage came up on the screen behind her. The officers shuffled forward, all hoping to see something significant.

‘This was taken from a security camera above a lock-up on Ramsbury Road, which can be reached in under a minute via a cut-through from Denise’s house. The time code shows that it’s around eleven twenty-three p.m. The first 999 call reporting a fire at Denise Roberts’s was logged at just after eleven thirty-five p.m., so who is this man?’

The team watched intently as a tall figure jogged past the camera and away down the street.

‘He’s got his back to us, so we can’t see his face, but we can tell that he is white, about six foot tall with dark hair. He wears heavy boots, dark jeans and a puffa waistcoat, so why was he going for a jog? It was pushing midnight, he wasn’t dressed for it, he doesn’t seem to be running away from anyone, so what’s the hurry?’

‘Perhaps he was just late for something?’ DC Lucas chipped in.

‘Maybe, but I’d like to know for sure. Run the rule over Spence’s associates, but let’s start from the top on this one. Clear minds, ok?’

The team nodded. They all knew that Helen was considering releasing Gary Spence on police bail, pending further investigations.

‘Denise’s son confirmed that she was expecting male company that night,’ Helen continued. ‘There were two pizza boxes and an empty bottle of wine in a Tesco’s bag in the outside bin. The receipt in the bag suggests she bought these items yesterday, so let’s assume for now he showed up as planned.’

‘Are we sure he didn’t just have his dinner and go?’ Charlie asked.

‘No, we’re not, but, according to Callum, Denise liked to have someone to warm her bed and was very accommodating in that regard.’

A few wry smiles from the team, but Helen pressed on.

‘DC Brooks and DC Lucas will run with this,’ she said, turning to Charlie. ‘Corral as many uniforms as you can and find out if anyone saw this man last night. I want people on the street within the hour, ok?’