Alex Gray - Five ways to kill a man

‘Not always,’ he replied. ‘But it’s a good job most of the time.’ Then, as she let go of his coat sleeve, he smiled at her. ‘Take care,’ he told her, nodding as she stepped back into the sanctuary of her new home. Then the door closed and he heard again that rattle of metal against wood as she secured the safety chain.

Once out in the open air, Lorimer drew a deep breath. That had been less than pleasant, but then what had he expected? Hopefully his visit to the older brother would produce a bit more in the way of information. All that he had found here was that the Jacksons’ daughter was a strange creature, one that, for all his experience, he simply couldn’t fathom. For a moment he felt a certain pity for the girl; she seemed incomplete despite her undeniable beauty. But wasn’t there something odd about such perfection? Then Lorimer caught himself wondering what she would look like if she had given him a smile. And for a moment he wished that she had.

‘I wish you’d told me you wanted to see Serena, Superintendent. I’d have made the effort to be there with her,’ Daniel Jackson told him.

They were sitting in an airy room overlooking one of the city’s dear green places in a quiet corner of the West End. It was only a mile or so from the comprehensive school where Maggie taught but it might have been in a completely different world. That was one thing his friend Solly Brightman was fond of telling him: how Glasgow was full of contrasts, those who had and those who had not rubbing shoulders with apparent ease.

Daniel Jackson’s home was one of the most gracious houses that Lorimer had ever visited, though he had been inside all sorts of Glasgow properties during his career. On either side of the bay windows were twin pillars made of tawny marble, half hidden by thin, gauzy draperies drawn beside them. The high ceilings still had all of their original cornicing, a feature that someone had picked out in a pale shade of gold in the elegant sitting room. Some nineteenth-century merchant with pots of money at his disposal, Lorimer thought as he took in the pleasing proportions of this room. And now another wealthy young man had taken over the care of the house, lavishing his own attention upon it. It was the sort of period home that would have been ruined by anyone trying to impose a modern style upon it and the policeman’s artistic sensibilities were gratified by seeing that so many of the furnishings were in keeping with the age of the house. No doubt Daniel Jackson would have the same up-to-date quality of kitchen as his sister had in her new-build flat by the river, but here, in this sitting room, there was every sign that the owner was in sympathy with his surroundings. Though right at this moment he seemed distinctly out if sympathy with the tall policeman sitting opposite.

‘It’s only usual to have a family member present when interviewing a minor,’ Lorimer told him, meeting the young man’s gaze. Daniel Jackson gave a sigh and turned away as if to gather his thoughts. Then he looked back at Lorimer, his brown eyes soft with a sadness that made the policeman immediately warm to the man.

‘I’m a bit protective of my little sister, Superintendent. She’s not like other young women you may have met. Don’t get me wrong,’ he waved his hand as though to banish any wrongheaded ideas, ‘she’s perfectly capable of looking after herself and all that. It’s just.. ’ He tailed off, as though seeking the correct words. ‘Serena’s always needed a bit more care than me. She had a hard time at school till they found she was dyslexic. And by that time she’d missed such a lot. Anyway, she’s been really badly affected by all of this and one can only admire her for staying put in her own place.’

‘What was her alternative?’ Lorimer asked. After all, hadn’t the family home been practically razed to the ground?

‘Well, moving in with me, of course. It’s plenty big enough for both of us. In fact, I keep one of the bedrooms just for Serena.’

‘Ah, yes. Kind of you,’ Lorimer said, thinking immediately what a trite remark that was. Daniel Jackson looked like a kind man, his handsome face full of concern as he uttered his sister’s name. ‘You’re close, then?’

‘Oh, yes. We do lots of things together. Always have. Skiing, cycling, sailing: you name it, Serena and I tend to spend a lot of our leisure time with one another.’

‘And your parents? Did you spend a lot of time with them?’

For a split second Lorimer could have sworn that an expression of anger passed over the man’s face but it was gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

‘No. Mum and Dad were keen golfers and it wasn’t a game that either of us aspired to, I’m afraid,’ he replied, swinging one leg across the other. ‘Dad and I saw one another at work, of course. And Serena always had Mum to see that things were okay for her at home. But we weren’t a family that did a lot of stuff together as adults,’ he smiled then, as if he really didn’t mind sharing this little bit of his private life with this policeman.

Lorimer nodded as if accepting the man’s words. ‘But you all got along together amicably?’

‘Oh, yes. Oh, never any question about that!’ Daniel’s eyebrows shot up as if slightly shocked by the very idea. ‘We were a very ordinary sort of family,’ he added, unconsciously echoing the sentiments expressed earlier by his sister. For a moment Lorimer wanted to lean forward and tell him earnestly that ordinary people weren’t multi-millionaires burned to death deliberately in their own homes, but he remained sitting still in the comfortable wing chair, pondering the statement instead.

‘Your position in the firm, sir. You are head of Human Resources, is that right?’

‘ Director of Human Resources,’ Daniel Jackson’s polite voice corrected him.

‘Yes, of course. Sorry. But weren’t you due to be promoted into a more senior role?’ Lorimer gave a frown as though he was uncertain of some information he had been given. It was a ploy he used when needed; playing the thick copper sometimes paid off.

Daniel Jackson’s sharp intake of breath and a tightening of his features was enough to make Lorimer see that he’d hit gold. It was just as Tannock had said; the young man had been passed over by his own father for promotion. But was that enough motivation to destroy his parents and family home by fire?

‘I think you’ve been misinformed. Though perhaps things will be a little different now. After all,’ he smiled that handsome, disarming smile, ‘I’m really needed far more these days in a senior managerial capacity.’

Lorimer nodded, resisting the urge to tug an imaginary forelock. Yet, although Jackson exuded the sort of social polish that defined his class, he was also possessed of a natural charm that the detective found engaging. Still, he mustn’t be deflected from his purpose: he had to dig under the social veneer presented by this man, however painful that might be.

‘I must ask you the same question that I asked Miss Jackson, sir. Can you think of any reason why someone would have wanted either of your parents dead?’

Daniel Jackson blinked as though Lorimer had indeed reached across and invaded his space. His tiny shake of the head seemed to indicate that it was not a question he had been expecting.

‘There appears to be some recent forensic evidence that suggests a person had broken into your parents’ home to deliberately set fire to it during the night.’

Lorimer watched the effect of his words on the young man, seeing the parted lips and eyes widening in horror.

‘But who…?’ he asked at last, in a whisper.

‘That’s what I wanted you to tell me, sir. Who might have had reason to wish either your father or your mother, or indeed both of them, to die?’