Watch You Burn

by KA Richardson

  Just as she’d figured, the bottom car park was deserted. It always was at this time of night. No-one was daft enough to congregate here after dark. Even without opening her windows, she could hear the rush of the river flowing nearby, spilling over the man-made dam and rushing on its journey to goodness knew where. She didn’t know where it ended up, didn’t really care to be honest. Water was just that, water. It did nothing for her. It wasn’t alive, not like fire.

  She’d already prepped the Molotov cocktail that currently sat in the cup holder of her dad’s car. Actually, she’d prepped two, just in case of any problems. Whatever happened, Kelly-Ann would not be leaving the car park alive.

  She left the window open, knowing she’d hear Kelly-Ann’s car coming down the bank. And when it finally arrived, she left the engine running with her lights off. She’d already turned the interior light off so it wouldn’t light up when she opened the door.

  She watched as Kelly-Ann manoeuvred into position on the opposite side of the car park, heard the screech of the branches as they scraped down the front windscreen of her car – the silly cow hadn’t even bothered reversing into the space.

  Steadying her hands that were shaking from sheer anticipation, she grabbed the two Molotov cocktail bottles, both made in exactly the same manner – empty bottle, fuel inside, and a piece of cloth from an old towel. Silently, she approached Kelly-Ann’s car – she didn’t want anything in the way to stop the bottle igniting, so she approached the passenger window. She could already hear the latest Pink song blaring from the car’s speakers, and she smirked as she knocked on the window loudly.

  She stood slightly off from the window, knowing her form would be obscured, and waiting until the window had moved all the way down, knowing she needed it open for ventilation – ventilation would cause a hotter, quicker burn.

  When Kelly-Ann turned the music down, and said, ‘Ryan, is that you?’ she lit the end of the rag with the lighter she held tightly.

  It caught straight away, burning fast and bright, just like she’d planned. She leaned forward, close enough for Kelly-Ann to see her face, and smiled widely.

  ‘Bye,’ she whispered, before launching the glass bottle hard at the dashboard in front of Kelly-Ann. She didn’t even hear it smash, but she knew it had. There was a loud whoosh as the bottle broke, and the flame grabbed hold of the fuel. It burned bright orange, and she could feel the heat from where she stood, could hear Kelly-Ann screaming.

  She stared, thinking she could see Kelly-Ann’s fiery arms flapping madly, trying to extinguish the flames that had already enveloped her. It would be a matter of minutes until the flames licked at the fuel tank, causing it to explode, so she knew it was time to go. She wanted nothing more than to stop and watch, but she knew if she did, she’d end up getting caught.

  Broken Scar itself was secluded, but at the top of the driveway that led to both the top and bottom car parks, was a main road – a main road with houses on it containing people who would most certainly hear the explosion and call the fire brigade, or worse the police.

  Jumping in her car, she gunned the engine and drove back towards the main road. She turned right, then pretty much straight away, she took another left onto Edinburgh Drive. The explosion behind her was loud, and she parked up, giggling hysterically, and hit her hands off the steering wheel a few times.

  That had been awesome, seeing the flames sear and sizzle Kelly-Ann like she was nothing more than a burger on a BBQ. She needed more though, she needed to be close enough to see the skin blister and blacken. She knew she couldn’t go back, and that she had to avoid the main roads – the police had installed pesky ANPR camera’s on virtually every main road and she couldn’t afford to have anything lead back to her – so instead she made her way through the houses back to her home address.

  Once she’d put her dad’s car keys back in the dish, she’d gone back outside and scaled the drain back up to the locked attic. Then she lay down on her mattress, staring up at the skylight. She couldn’t sleep. She was too wired. All she wanted to do now was go back to Broken Scar, watch as the police scuttled about trying to piece together what had happened, and who it had happened to.

  But she couldn’t.

  She had to stay here. Maybe I should just burn the house down, then I could come and go as I want to.

  Shaking her head, she refused to entertain the thought – she couldn’t do that. Could she?

  3rd October, 0120 hours – Kevin’s residence, Durham

  Kevin groaned as he heard his mobile ring loudly. Opening his eyes a crack, he grabbed at the glow from the screen and swiped without looking.

  ‘Lang,’ he greeted, his voice rough from sleep.

  ‘Kev, it’s Inspector Callaghan in the control room. There’s a shout for you – fatal arson. Need me to give you a minute to wake up?’

  ‘Am I even on call tonight? I’m supposed to be rest days tomorrow… today… now’ grumbled Kevin, rubbing his free hand over his eyes, and pulling himself into a sitting position.

  ‘Well actually, no, Faith Mitchell is down on the roster, but she’s down as being off sick. If that’s not the case, I can ring her now?’

  ‘The roster’s right, she is off sick. What’s the job?’ Kevin mentally kicked himself for not sorting out the on-call rota.

  He got to his feet and padded through to the kitchen, turning the kettle on before fumbling around for a pen.

  ‘Car fire – one dead. DS Slater’s at the scene now.’

  ‘OK, put me down as attending, need to pop to the nick to get my van and kit first though so it’ll probably be an hour till I land. Where is it?’

  Sliding the phone to his neck, he bent his head to hold it in place while he jotted the location down.

  3rd October, 0230 hours – Broken Scar car park

  Kevin crinkled his nose in distaste as he wandered round the car. The ground underfoot was tarmac, strewn with rotting leaves: autumn had definitely arrived.

  The air was heavy with a smell that could easily be mistaken for roast pork. Slater and his team had all retreated to the top car park after setting up cordons on the driveway that led to the bottom. They also had a cop on the gate that led from the bottom car park to the walkway alongside the river. Not that he expected anyone to be walking at this time of night.

  The car itself was still smoldering. The moonlight caught little wisps of smoke that disappeared so quickly Kevin wondered if his eyes were deceiving him. He had to admit it was creepy here at night. The bottom car park was pitch black and surrounded by trees. Not even a glow from the lamps on the main road made it through. Why anyone would park there after dark was beyond him.

  Once he was satisfied that there were no boogeymen hiding in the bushes – he was sure the cops would have checked for this, but had still felt the need to look himself, he made his way to his van which he’d left at the entrance. He had two high-powered lamps and the generator stowed away in the back – it meant he couldn’t get to anything else until he’d removed them. So tugging hard, he pulled the lamps and stands free and positioned one at each corner of the car park before plugging them in and pulling his tripod free.

  Whilst he adjusted his camera settings, he frowned. He really needed to make an appointment to speak with Hartside about the staffing issues - Hartside was the DI for the crime department but never seemed the leave the HQ at Sunderland to venture as far south as Darlington. Kevin could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen him since he moved base. Hartside just seemed to take great pleasure in sending emails and requesting that stats improve by one untested method or another. Any meetings were normally scheduled by him, and took place at his office, invariably meaning Kevin had to give up a large chunk of his day. It was irritating to say the least, but he ran the department, so Kevin had little choice but to deal with him.

  Making a mental note to call Hartside when he got back to the office, Kevin finished adjusting his settings and mounted the camera onto the tripod. When he’d fir
st started in the job all those years ago, it had taken him ages to learn the settings on the old film cameras. The digital ones they used now made photography much more pleasurable – he no longer had to worry whether the film photos would turn out OK.

  He wouldn’t be here long tonight – the real work would start later when daylight broke. Feeling his stomach churn slightly, he breathed through the wave of mild nausea, knowing it would be a while before he ate pork again.

  3rd October, 0745 hours – Broken Scar car park

  Kevin sidled a glance at Jackson who sat next to him in the cab of the van as they drove from the station back to the rendezvous point at Broken Scar. Jackson was unusually quiet this morning, and that was not like him when it came to attending a murder. Murders were always the cream of the crop to the CSIs – there was often catty comments and bitching when someone drew the straw to attend. Kevin worked hard to nip this kind of thing in the bud, but still acknowledged it happened.

  ‘You OK, cuz?’

  ‘Yeah, fine,’ mumbled Jackson, averting his gaze towards the window.

  Whatever it was, it was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. But Kevin wasn’t one to let things lie, especially where family was concerned.

  ‘You just seem a tad quiet, that’s all. I mean, we are on our way to a potential murder, a crispy one at that. This fact alone would normally have you buzzing. Yet here you sit, all quiet and mouse-like. Unless it’s too gruesome, is that it? You worried what your first BBQ one will be like?’

  His teasing had the desired effect as Jackson snorted and cracked a brief grin.

  ‘Piss off, I’m fine, I just… well if you must know, I pulled last night. Some bird I’d not seen before down the local – she was nice an’ all that, but now she won’t stop bloody texting me. It’s like she’s attached herself to my flipping phone. I got that sick I’ve turned the bloody thing off. Trust me to pull a psycho.’

  Kevin smirked, ‘Oh, I dunno, she sounds like a keeper to me. Did you pick up the extra stepping plates, by the way? Think we’re gunna need em. Those clouds don’t look too happy either. I’m just hoping the rain holds off. Ed’s meeting us at the RVP with the scientist, Julia Graves. You worked with her before?’

  ‘Christ, cuz, you do realise it’s not even 8am yet and you’re bombarding me with questions about rendezvous points and shit? Yes, I got the stepping plates; no, she’s not a keeper, she’s a crackpot if you ask me; no, the clouds don’t look happy, and I think I worked with Julia a few years back: some arson at one of the country houses out near Middleton-St-George. She’s pretty to the point and sharp but good at what she does.’

  ‘Ooo someone rolled out of bed from the wrong side this morning. Let’s hope one of the cops is doing a McDonald’s run soon – sounds to me like you need caffeine.’

  Kevin indicated and pulled into the picnic area – the upper car park of Broken Scar had been designated as the RVP. It made sense and kept everything close by and contained. He and Jackson hopped out of the van, and headed straight for the gathering of cops in suits.

  ‘Ali?’ greeted Kevin, surprised to see him there. He’d worked with DI Ali McKay a lot when he’d been based out of Sunderland.

  ‘Hiya Kev, good you’re here. I’ve been drafted to work down here for a few months while DI Elliott is on maternity. Dan’s just been briefing me on what we’ve got. Suspicious you think?’

  ‘Honestly, it was too dark last night to make much of an assessment. We’ll no doubt know soon enough, though. Which pathologist have we drawn today?’

  ‘Nigel – isn’t it always? Poor fella seems to work more hours than I do and that’s saying something. There’s a wee lassie over there, scientist I think? And your fire investigator’s stood with her. You OK to crack on? I’m not stopping, need to go and chat to a couple we believe to be the parents of the victim. She was just a kid, twenty-one. Provided it’s her, of course. Dan’s hanging around till the body’s removed though. Bet that one’s gunna be a bit of a nightmare.’

  ‘Aye you’re not wrong. OK, Ali, thanks. Are you doing the strategy meeting for this one later?’

  ‘I’ll sit in but Dan will be running it. Catch you later.’

  Kevin and Jackson made their way over to where Edina stood with Julia.

  ‘Ladies,’ he greeted, blushing as he made eye contact with Ed, ‘You about ready to head down to have a look?’

  ‘We’ll follow the van down. See you in a sec.’

  Kevin drove down to the inner cordon and signed in with the loggist. Shuddering slightly, he remembered his apprehension from the night before. He hated the dark, always had. Ever since he was a kid it had always been full of monsters and things that go bump in the night. Embarrassing really, he supposed, what grown man is scared of the dark? Now though, the shadows had been chased back by the breaking dawn, and though it was overcast, the car park was a little less ominous.

  He pulled the van up at the outside edge of the car park, jumped out and glanced over at the cop standing guard by the kissing gate, almost like a uniformed chaperone. The locals believed you had the kiss at the gate as you passed through or bad luck would befall you. Kevin didn’t know if it was true, but if he ever had to pass through, he knew he’d kiss – just in case. He raised his hand to wave as the cop turned and focused on him, waving back.

  There was a sudden movement beside the officer – something that made this head snap backwards and caused him to lose his balance. Then another man came into view and pushed through the gate into Kevin’s crime scene.

  ‘Oi, you can’t be in here,’ said Kevin loudly, advancing forward a few steps as the male started down the ramp that led into the car park. That’s when he saw the baseball bat, with fresh blood smeared on the end.

  From there things moved in slow motion – he took in the blood spatter covering the man, acknowledging that the spatter hadn’t come from the cop who had obviously only been hit once. He took in the crazed look in the man’s eyes as he looked about the car park – what for? He took in the large scar running down the side of the man’s face from his ear, and wondered how he’d come by it.

  This wasn’t good.

  Beyond the male, Kevin could see the cop trying to struggle to his feet, not having a clue what was going on. He saw his hand move for his vest, and prayed he was alerting the cops in the top car park of the situation – like an idiot he’d left his own radio in the van.

  ‘Howay fella, calm down. I’m not gunna stop you heading up to the main road if that’s what you want to do,’ Kevin held his hands out in front of him, trying to placate the male.

  It didn’t matter though – the male took another step towards Kevin and swung his arm backwards, gaining the required momentum with which to strike Kevin. Turning slightly, Kevin let the blow glance off his shoulder – it stung like a bitch but it was better that than feeling it wrap round his head.

  His left shoulder was now buried in the male’s stomach, and taking advantage, Kevin pushed hard, hoping to knock the man off his feet. But he was well-built and muscular, and Kevin’s attempt did nothing more than knock him back a step and give him the opportunity to move to swing the bat again. Bracing for the impact, Kevin didn’t notice Jackson running to tackle the man until they all fell to the floor with a clatter. Jackson pinned the male’s arm to prevent him swinging the bat again, and he reacted by roaring like a wounded bull and trying to buck Kevin off.

  Slater pushed Kevin off as he and two cops took position and turned the male onto his front.

  ‘Quit struggling,’ hissed Slater through gritted teeth as he clicked a set of handcuffs shut, securing the man’s hands behind his back. The cops dragged him to his feet, ignoring the expletives, and they pulled him back towards the top car park.

  ‘You need to seize his clothes,’ said Kevin to Slater.

  ‘It’s fine, don’t worry, you saw him hit Mike, right?’

  ‘Yes, but that’s not what I mean. He’s got blood spatter all over his clothes – it can’t be f
rom Mike ’cos he only hit him once. And there’s an awful lot of blood on the end of that bat. What’s the betting he was running from somewhere else – you need to find where. There’s someone there either dead or injured.’

  ‘Shit, you’re kidding,’ said Slater, rubbing a hand through his hair. ‘I’ll get it sorted – where does that path lead, do you know?’

  ‘From looking at the map at work, it leads to a place called Blackwell. Think there’s only one farm between there and here but you’d have to check the name.’

  ‘OK, ta.’ Slater turned, and strode over to Mike who was now standing but leaning heavily against the gate. Blood covered the side of his face and he looked unsteady. Slater hooked his shoulder underneath Mike’s, and led him back up to the road. Kevin knew an ambulance would already be on its way.

  ‘Fun and games at this time in the morning. This is going to be a nightmare – I can see the court now. Random bloke wanders into our secure crime scene. Talk about cross contamination.’ Jackson sounded fed-up as he spoke.

  ‘It’ll be fine – we’ll sort the statements out with no problems. We don’t even know if the arson was murder as yet. Come on, let’s get suited and booted. The sooner Nigel finishes with the body, the quicker we can get it removed from the car and over to the morgue.’

  13

  She was worried. She’d checked the headlines in her dad’s paper that morning and there’d been nothing on the fire. And she’d listened to the news, something she never did, and again there’d been no mention at all. Were the police even there? Had it even been discovered? Or were they too busy with the reported home invasion that had happened at some farm on the outskirts – maybe they hadn’t been told about the fire.

  Her heart hammered in her chest, and her breathing was fast. She was close to a panic attack – she knew how they felt. She’d had enough of them in the months after her dad had started locking her in the attic. It had taken her a long time to get used to the confined space, the locked door. The fact that no one trusted her.