M. Arlidge - Liar Liar

‘Not that she told us of,’ Michael responded. ‘She seemed very steady. Then again, she’d only been with us for three months, so whether she would have felt comfortable coming to us, I don’t know.’

‘So the first thing you encountered that was out of the ordinary was your discovery of the fire?’ she said, turning back to Ethan once more.

‘Yes.’

‘Can you describe to me what happened?’

Ethan took a deep breath. Whether this was to brace himself for the physical pain that was to come or because of the emotions his memories aroused, Helen wasn’t sure.

‘I was in bed. The smell of smoke was very strong and… when I switched on the bedside light, I still couldn’t see anything.’

‘What then?’

‘I called for Agnieszka but… I didn’t hear anything. I was panicking – I knew what was happening. So I got out of bed and walked to the door and then I felt it…’

He paused, asking his parents for some water, which he drank down greedily, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

‘Felt?’

‘I could tell a seizure was coming on. I get a tingling feeling in my hands and feet first and then my vision goes. Everything takes on a kind of glow and well… I guess I knew I had to try to get out before it came on properly.’

Helen nodded but said nothing. She could see his parents were affected by his description. It must have been terrifying trying to escape the fire with that kind of time pressure hanging over you.

‘Next thing I know, someone’s carrying me. And it’s hot, hotter than I could ever have imagined. Did Agnieszka get out ok?’

Helen glanced quickly at Ethan’s parents. She had thought they might have broken the news to their son, but they’d obviously decided he wasn’t ready for it yet. They gave Helen a small nod to proceed.

‘I’m afraid she didn’t make it. I’m very sorry.’

Ethan took this in, shaking his head slightly.

‘How did she die?’

It was a tough question to answer, especially to a kid.

‘The fire started in the basement. It would have been very quick – she wouldn’t have suffered.’

Ethan nodded, then turned to his parents. They were quick to comfort him. Everyone present was thinking that Ethan could have ended up the same way.

‘That’s enough for now. I’m going to leave my card with your parents. If you think of anything else that might be relevant, please do get in touch. In the meantime, rest up and try not to worry. We’ll get whoever did this to you – you have my word.’

Helen took her leave. She walked down the corridor fast, her thoughts tumbling over each other. So far they had no real witnesses, nothing tangible from CCTV and still no clear motive. Helen had resisted the idea of a curfew when it had been mooted – it seemed a gross overreaction – but given the proficiency and determination of their killer, it was beginning to feel like they no longer had a choice.

Helen was half the way down the corridor when she spotted her. Helen had biked straight from the hospital to Southampton Central and was now striding along the seventh floor. She had called the team in for an early briefing and was surprised and relieved to see Charlie, smartly dressed and looking a little refreshed, bending her steps towards the incident room. After a terrible night, it was a boost to see her old friend and colleague back on the case.

‘Everything ok?’ Helen asked as they walked.

‘As ok as it’ll ever be. Thank you for coming round last -’

‘Don’t mention it. I hope you’d do the same for me.’

An unwelcome memory of last night’s violence shot into Helen’s mind, but she pushed it away. She’d have to deal with that later.

‘Of course,’ Charlie replied, ‘though I doubt I’ll ever need to.’

That was nonsense, naturally, but it was said with a smile. It was the first time Helen had seen Charlie smile in some time and it buoyed her up as they pushed through the double doors and into the throng.

‘As DS Sanderson has just pointed out, we’re going to have to disregard previous witness statements and start again. This is a ground-up job, so we need open minds, ok?’

The team nodded, but Helen could sense the deflation among them. So much devastation, so many deaths and still no progress. Helen knew that it was Karen and Alice Simms’s funeral today – this was preying on everyone’s mind, affecting their mood. Helen had to drive the team forward, had to keep them focused, had to convince them that this guy could be caught.

‘I’ve got uniform doing house-to-house near last night’s sites. They will feed any intelligence they gather straight back to the incident room and I’ve asked DCs Lucas and McAndrew to collate and sift the witness statements from all the incidents. Who called the fires in, who was passing by, who’d seen unfamiliar characters hanging around – let’s double-check we’ve not missed anything important.’

‘Yes, boss,’ DC Lucas piped up.

‘And I know it’s laborious, but I’d like DC Edwards and DC Marnie to go over the footage from the fires again, looking for faces in the crowds. Our perpetrator is a superstar now – he’s viral on the internet, he’s made the New York Times , the Sydney Herald – he must be enjoying himself. There’s no way he isn’t forcing himself into the story somehow, so let’s see if we can find him. I know we’ve done it before, I know it can seem like a waste of time, but the small things matter.’

‘No problem,’ DC Marnie acknowledged.

‘DS Sanderson is coordinating a survey of recent police incidents involving psychiatric patients to see if there are any leads there, anyone with a grievance against the city, or a predilection for pyromania -’

‘So we think our perpetrator is crazy now?’ DC Edwards asked.

‘That’s not a word I’d use, but our killer is certainly very driven, very focused. He’s clearly obsessed by fire – or the consequences of fire – and has no regard for human life. The direct nature of the attack on Agnieszka Jarosik suggests that our arsonist is upping his game, becoming less cautious and more aggressive. This might be the end product of his sadism or it might be that he’s feeling under pressure. Either way it’s not good news for us.’

The team digested this, then Helen carried on.

‘There will be a reason why he’s doing this, something that’s driving him, so let’s focus on that.’

‘So we’re now saying the attacks aren’t random?’ McAndrew asked.

‘It was a valid theory – initially at least – but this is too well planned to be random. The commercial sites targeted have their similarities – all small businesses without expensive security in place – but the domestic properties couldn’t be more different in terms of geography, price tag or social class. They were, however, easily accessible, the attacks were methodically executed and even when our perpetrator rushed things – for example, in the attack on Agnieszka Jarosik – he still took the time to lock the door from the outside before leaving. He must have known these people or these properties well, so in addition to witness statements, let’s take an interest in people who knew the families and would have walked past these sites every day. Is there a particular job that would take someone there regularly? Posties, refuse collection, social workers, cold callers – anyone who would know the houses and would have come into contact with these families. It’s very likely our arsonist is hiding in plain sight, so disregard no one, however respectable or stable they might appear on the surface.’

‘We should also look at break-ins,’ Charlie offered. ‘We had a break-in at the Simms residence and, at the others he walked in bold as brass. He is confident at what he’s doing.’