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22

Tuesday morning, very early

By the time Charlie’s phone woke him from a deep and dreamless sleep, fire had destroyed most of the warehouse. The roof had been on the point of collapse when the fire brigade arrived, and nothing they could do would save it. Tom mumbled something incoherent as Charlie fell out of bed and into his clothes. It would have been hard to get off the couch of torture at the police station at this hour, but leaving a warm bed with Tom in it was all but impossible.

When Charlie arrived, there wasn’t much left of anything remotely flammable. The buildings on either side of the warehouse had burned in places, and smoke damage was visible on others. Charlie took in the devastation: the road running with water, lit mainly by the firefighters’ temporary floodlights reflecting off the wet ground, the stink of burned wood and the chemical smells of burned plastics and melted carpet. The firefighters were in full rig — heavy boots, big coats and yellow helmets – as they stood chatting, one eye always on the remains of the burned-out sheds. As before, the scene had attracted onlookers, though in far fewer numbers.

The warehouse fire was in a building on the out-of-town trading estate, home to a garden furniture company, a car parts firm, a plumbers’ merchant, and some people who packed organic vegetables. There were others, but Charlie couldn’t see much more than blurred signs through the drifting smoke and steam. These observers, in hastily donned clothes, faces still creased with sleep, looked as if they had skin in the game. There were a few houses close by and as he made his way towards the cluster of firefighters, a couple came out of one of them. Even in the poor light, Charlie could see the shock on their faces. All the householders would need to be interviewed, but first, he wanted to talk to the firefighters, and Eddy, who had managed to arrive before him.

Charlie recognised most of the firefighters; it was a small town after all. But Eddy knew them from school and was deep in conversation with a man as big as himself, who looked even bigger in his coat and helmet.

“This is my boss, DS Rees,” Eddy said to the big fireman. “Sarge, this is my old mate Kev Watchett, who’s also the senior officer on tonight.”

Charlie and Kev nodded at each other. Charlie saw Eddy was fully dressed in the same clothes he’d had on the day before.

“This looks bad,” Charlie said.

Kev gave a snort of laughter. “This could have burned half the town to the ground and poisoned the other half. We’re just lucky there’s no wind, that’s all.”

The building gave a groan and a cascade of something noisy fell down somewhere out of sight. The firefighters turned as one to look at the remains of the warehouse. When nothing else happened, Charlie felt them all relax.

“What can you tell me?” Charlie asked.

“Not a lot,” Kev said. “These buildings are cheap as chips, so there could be dodgy electrics somewhere. Lots of electrical equipment in all of them, and this was the car parts place, so some pretty toxic stuff in there as well as stacks and stacks of cardboard.”

“Another arson attack?” Charlie asked.

“Too early to say. I can tell you that my impression is that this fire started at the back of the building, just from the way it was starting to collapse when we got here. We won’t be able to get any closer than this tonight. If there’s any breeze, we’re going to have to tell people to keep their windows closed.” He held up crossed fingers. “And we could all move a bit further away, because we don’t want to breathe this crap.”

They duly moved away, reconvening behind the nearest fire engine. A woman appeared with a tray of steaming mugs which she passed around the firemen and included Eddy and Charlie. There was a mess of sugary spoons on the tray by the time she got to them, but the drinks were hot, wet, and didn’t taste of smoke. She clearly knew Kev Watchett, who promised faithfully to collect and return the empty mugs.

“I know you will, bach,” she said to Kev.

“Or you’ll tell Mam,” Kev said with a grin.

“I don’t suppose you saw anyone acting suspiciously last night?” Charlie asked her hopefully.

She laughed. “I’m in bed by ten, love.” She waved over at the houses. “But there’s a couple of younger ones who stay up later, and a house full of lads who work in the chicken place. Worth asking them. They do shifts.”

Charlie thanked her and put his finished mug back on the tray with a smile. He told Eddy to drink up. “Let’s go and find out if anyone saw anything useful.” Eddy grunted as he replaced his mug, and truthfully, Charlie didn’t have a lot of hope. Most people would have been asleep when the fire started, and those who weren’t would hardly have been staring out of their windows with a set of night vision binoculars. Still, the night was warm and clear; maybe they would get lucky. “We’ll start with the people here. Do you know who called it in?” he asked Watchett.

“Anonymous, English accent. I’ll get them to send the recording over.”

“Cheers,” Charlie said, then he and Eddy began questioning members of the public. Had they seen the fire start? Did they see anything suspicious? Did they own or work in one of the buildings? Did they know of any disputes that might lead to an arson attack?

They learned that the car parts firm had recently installed CCTV cameras — mainly to spy on their own employees, they were told by one of them, with some bitterness. “In case we go to the bog too often.” Charlie wondered if that lack of trust could lead to a disgruntled worker burning the warehouse to the ground but concluded that the staff were more likely to be laid off, than to get paid while the rebuilding went on. He made a note to check whether any of the cameras had survived the inferno, and where the recordings were kept — hopefully somewhere online, which could help determine the time the fire started.

He was about to set off to start knocking on the doors of the houses opposite, when a familiar voice assailed him. He spun round.

“Boss? What are you doing here?” Charlie asked.

Ravensbourne put her cigarette out on the floor and carefully stowed the stub back in the packet.

“This is the second fire in three days in the same small town. Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

Ravensbourne didn’t look as if she’d just got out of bed, though Charlie supposed that she could have napped during the drive from Wrexham. She interrupted his thoughts: “I was at a domestic violence incident when I heard. Some poor soul being harassed by a bloke she met on the internet. Victim’s a friend of a friend.”

He told her the little they had learned about the fire. “It could be an accident. Dodgy electrics in the car parts place. We were just off to see if anyone from the houses saw anything.”

Ravensbourne opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Charlie’s phone. Mr Hassan’s name flashed up.

“I’m sorry to ring you so late,” he said. “But I thought you should know, there is someone moving around with lights in our new shop. I can see a light upstairs.”

“Are you calling from somewhere safe, Mr Hassan?” Charlie asked.

“I’m just outside the front door,” Hassan replied.

“Get across the street, please. Do not enter the shop. We’re on our way,” and beckoned to Eddy. He only realised Ravensbourne had followed, when he heard her get in the car behind him.