by Carole Pitt
'Sorry mate. Get back to me about eight tomorrow night and I'll see what I can do.'
* * *
Elizabeth was at odds with herself when Patterson returned to Park Road. He'd sat in her office for a couple of minutes and all she'd done was clock watch. He hadn't spoken to her since last night but he could tell by her face something had changed.
He broke the silence. 'The guy who bought Beresford's motor was on his way to work and wouldn't cooperate.'
'Great, and I bet he's had the damn thing cleaned up by now.'
'Forget the car for a minute and tell me what's going on.'
She stood up, went to the window and stared out. 'Morven's off the hook as from this morning.'
Patterson felt surprise more than shock. 'Has someone else confessed?'
'I wish. Morven's playing the victim, but it's not a good performance,' Elizabeth explained why he'd kept quiet about his visit to York. Then she added, 'Lane will be here soon with a suitcase full of corroborative evidence.'
'Give me a quick run through. I need a breakfast.'
Elizabeth repeated what Lane had told her the previous evening. 'So there you have it. We'll have to start again.'
'Don't be so bloody pessimistic.'
'I can't help feeling anything other than pessimistic this morning. I seem to have been abandoned, no one wants to know me, yet I'm expected to solve two murders.'
'Then get onto Dr Oakley. We need her final reports on this paint chip thing, before we hurtle down another blind alley.'
'I'm about to do that. 'We're two thirds through the registration document list and so far, no one with any solid links to Grasmere owns a white Peugeot 208.'
'It's a long shot Liz. Could Oakley have got it all wrong?'
Elizabeth shook her head. 'Jessica saw the importance of the paint sample, and made the right decision to have it tested. I refuse to accept the results are wrong, if we don't find the car then we start considering other explanations. I keep mulling over this clairvoyant business.'
'Morven's weird, even if he isn't a murderer.'
Elizabeth pulled a brush out of a drawer and raked it through her hair. 'Lane will be here soon. I need a bit of moral support, so I'd like you to come straight back from the canteen.'
'Do you want a bite to eat?'
'I've no appetite for food, but plenty for coffee. Bring one for Lane as well.'
Five minutes later, he was on his way back. Lane was hurrying along the corridor pulling a trolley bag. He did the courteous thing and offered to help.
'Thank you, Sergeant,' she said.
Patterson took the opportunity to ask after Walsh and Adams. 'We haven't seen them since Oxford. What are they up too?'
'Clearing up a few discrepancies and keeping Professor McAllister company until he's well enough to leave.'
Patterson wished he knew what the discrepancies were but didn't ask. Babysitting McAllister was obviously a cover for protection duty. He kept his stone friendly. 'Will they all fly back together?'
'I expect they might, but don't quote me on it.' Lane looked up at him and smiled. 'This is an excellent outcome Sergeant, whatever your boss might feel.'
Again, he wondered what her remark meant. All he could think was Lane had sensed Liz's uncertainty regarding Morven. As his solicitor, she was undoubtedly privy to a lot more information, and as she showed no intention of sharing, it was pointless trying to wheedle it out of her.
Lane stopped outside the office and retrieved her trolley. 'We know the statistics Sergeant. Over eighty percent of all murder victims, are either related to, or friends with their killer.'
Patterson opened the door for Lane. As he followed her in, he experienced a revelation moment.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Sunday June 2nd
The knock on her door came at exactly six twenty three am.
'Got a shocker for you this morning Liz. Grasmere Academy's on fire. 'Patterson blurted out as she opened the door. 'I got there just after the fire crews, and it looks like they're still struggling to control the flames at the rear of the building. I've spoken to the station commander and he thinks it must have started in the early hours of this morning. A passer by noticed flames in a ground floor window and alerted the emergency services.'
'Oh my God,' Elizabeth cried as she ushered him into the kitchen. 'Is anyone trapped inside?'
'Don't know yet. The search teams are only half way through the building.' Patterson picked up a burnt slice of toast and started eating it. 'As soon as the fire is under control the investigators are going in.'
'Grasmere again, you have to wonder why?' Elizabeth said. 'It's starting to look as if someone has a massive grudge against the place.'
'Let's wait and see what the experts come up with,' Patterson answered.
* * *
A crowd had gathered along the perimeter fence and the air was filled with the smell of acrid smoke. The area from the school gates to the main entrance and beyond was slick with running water. Islands of fire retardant foam drifted slowly over the burgeoning sludge. Elizabeth watched as the fire crews attached two more high pressure hoses to the engine and a standpipe, then hauled them towards the Dali Wing.
Elizabeth spotted the crew commander, a six-foot veteran of the fire service by the name of Mitch Francis. She'd known him since she first came to Cheltenham.
Francis smiled when he saw her. 'Hi stranger, haven't seen you in a while.'
'It's must be a few months,' she replied. 'Mitch, I realise it's too early, but any ideas?'
'It definitely started in the art department, plenty of combustible material in there to keep it going for hours.'
'Deliberate?' Patterson asked.
'We'll know soon. Are you thinking this is connected to your murder investigation?'
'Remember the old adage,' Patterson said. 'How many coincidences before it's no longer a coincidence.'
'Once the heat dies down they'll establish the point of origin. Funny thing though. I was on call all night and tuned in to the radio. It was about that Canadian guy who was the prime suspect, but isn't any.'
'What time was this?' Elizabeth asked.
'On the three am news bulletin.'
Elizabeth grimaced. 'Great. I'm beginning to see Teresa Lane in a different light. The bitch is determined to control the publicity and screw up my damage control.'
'Who's Teresa Lane?' Mitch enquired.
Patterson gave Elizabeth a warning glance. 'We shouldn't discuss this in the open Liz. The hacks are out in force.'
'She's the Canadian's solicitor and is determined to make my life a misery.' Elizabeth shouted.
Patterson ignored her outburst and spoke to Francis. 'If anyone is trapped in there, what are their chances?'
'It depends. Sometimes people hide in small spaces thinking it's safer. That's usually when they succumb to the smoke. So far, there's no indication that anyone is in the building but it's a big area to search and the art department is in a hell of a mess. Storing all that paint and especially stuff like fibreglass is a big risk, especially as the automatic sprinkler system malfunctioned. Someone's head will roll for that.'
'There were problems with Grasmere from the start. The builders rushed to meet the deadline. You don't do that without compromising safety,' Patterson said.
Francis pointed to a heavy vehicle approaching. 'Fire investigation unit, I better go and talk to them.'
Patterson watched the specially trained experts exit the van. He was surprised to see the investigation dog, wearing fire wellies, to protect its paws from the hot material. He knew how capable these dogs were. How they could detect minute quantities of hydrocarbon accelerants within minutes. The same procedure could take hours to do in the laboratory. He hoped they wouldn't have to wait long for a result, if it was arson, then Mitch Francis may
well be right. He checked the street and noticed the crowds had steadily increased. Several police vans had also turned up and uniformed officers had set about keeping the onlookers under control.
Elizabeth was talking to one of the fire crew who had just lugged a small generator out of a support vehicle. Patterson turned his attention to the main body of the building, which so far was escaping the worst of the flames. His scanned the roof and was momentarily blinded by the sun glinting off the pointed glass atrium above the main reception area. His worried, should the intense heat travel that far, the panes would explode, sending huge shards in all directions.
He checked the roof area again and was about to turn away when he saw something move. The glare from the glass had dimmed his sight, so he closed his eyes for a few seconds until they readjusted. When he opened them, whatever he'd seen was gone. He went through the options. The shape had appeared crouched over as if it was crawling. Yet it was too big for a cat or dog. Although his eyes had indicated an animal, his brain was telling him otherwise. But why were they on the roof. Was there no other means of escape? If the figure was a child or small adult crawling along the roof, they were risking their life. Patterson ran towards the nearest fire officer.
'No further mate,' the man shouted above the roar of water and foam hammering against the building.
Patterson shouted back and pointed upwards. 'There's someone on the roof.'
The fire officer raced towards his colleagues who immediately maneuvered an aerial ladder platform into position. Four fire fighters clambered inside and Patterson stood rooted to the spot as his eyes followed their progress until they reached the top. Two crew members attached safety harnesses before hauling themselves onto the roof.
Elizabeth had caught up with him. 'What the hell's happening?' she asked.
'I saw something up there and they're checking it out.'
'Where the hell are the fire escapes?' Elizabeth asked.
'Internal, I guess,' Patterson answered. 'Think about it, the only safe option with such a high number of pupils to manage. You couldn't have hundreds of kids hurtling down external metal ones.'
'The damage doesn't look as bad from here,' Elizabeth said.
'Most of it is around the side, next to the car park. The Dali Wing will need rebuilding.
Mitch Francis came up behind them, phone clamped to his ear, his face solemn. 'You two will have to move back to the main gate. We need to clear this whole area.'
'Have you found someone?'
Francis nodded. 'It's a sod of a problem. We have ourselves a jumper.'
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
'What?' Elizabeth groaned. 'You mean a suicide attempt?'
'You'd better get your crisis negotiator here as fast as possible. This one sounds unwavering.'
'Male or female?' she asked.
'Female, but so far won't tell us her name,' Francis said. 'My guys daren't get too close in case she takes off. She's crawled on to a damaged section of the roof and it could collapse at any time so we've got to get her down quickly. Falling through the building's interior she'd burn up and wouldn't survive. She'd stand a better chance jumping into the car park.'
Elizabeth turned to Patterson. 'Raise Christine Evans on the blower and if she doesn't pick up, get someone around to her house.'
By the time they reached the school gates, Sergeant Evans was already on her way. Patterson was glad to see some of the crowd had dispersed. He felt someone tap him on the shoulder. Will Crosbie was holding a digital recorder right under his nose. Patterson shoved him and his device away.
'Would you care to comment Sergeant? I hear there's someone on the roof threatening to jump.'
He wasn't in the mood for Crosbie. 'Bugger off. I don't know any more than you.'
'I'll hang on then until you do. Remind me sometime that I owe you a pint for the info you gave me.'
Patterson spun around, hoping Liz hadn't heard. 'My boss is over there so watch what comes out of your mouth.'
Elizabeth moved closer and Crosbie sidled away. 'I can't understand people's mentality, gathering like this to watch someone kill them self.'
Patterson kept an eye on Crosbie's position in case he came back to harass him. 'Uniforms have shifted a fair few, but they'll be back. I hope to God Christine can get through to this woman.'
Patterson had worked with Sergeant Evans once before. An elderly man had doused himself with petrol in his own home. His wife of sixty years had died suddenly and he couldn't cope without her. For three hours, Evans had sat in his tiny sitting room talking to him while the gasoline fumes built up. One strike of a match or flick of a lighter might have seriously injured her, but eventually she persuaded him to leave the house. 'She's good Liz.'
'I'm dreading this. What if it turns out it's one of the sixth form girls. You know, pressure from imminent exams, or boyfriend trouble.'
Patterson shrugged and decided to change the subject. 'I had a brainstorm about Beresford's garage.'
Elizabeth perked up. 'Why didn't you say sooner? Something about that garage has bothered me since we saw it. I decided it was because there were no windows.'
'Lots of garages don't have windows. Think doors instead.'
'I haven't got time for riddles Tony. Explain.'
'Beresford's new BMW partially hid the garage door. I had to squeeze through the gap to get a closer look. Nothing wrong with that if there's limited space, but the Beresford's have enough room to park ten cars. So you have to wonder why the car wasn't further away. And the answer is, to hide the damage on the garage door.'
Elizabeth smiled, 'And why would anyone want to do that?'
'In case the cops came by and noticed it.'
'So what you're saying is you think there's another car in there.'
'I am. That door is a remotely operated electric roller type. In the left hand corner near to the ground it looked badly buckled. Also, some of the paint had peeled off but there wasn't any rust underneath which meant the damage is recent. Whoever tried to drive the car into the garage was in a hurry to hide it. Maybe it was during the day and they were worried someone would see them. They pressed the remote to open the garage door, which didn't work. At the same time something else distracted them and their foot hit the accelerator causing the car to lurch forward and crash into the unopened garage door. The impact wedged it shut and they had to force it open, causing even more damage.'
'Get someone out there now,' Elizabeth said, just as Christine Evans drove through the gate. 'Uniforms can canvas the Beresford's neighbours to find out if any of them heard or saw anything.'
Patterson finished his call and watched as Sergeant Evans stepped into the ladder platform. When it drew level with the roof another two fire crew helped her over the precipice.
'What do we do now?' Elizabeth asked.
'We wait,' Patterson said.
An hour later, a mobile food van turned up, its driver hoping to exploit the situation. A uniformed Sergeant had allowed him to park the vehicle in a side street off the main road. Within minutes, people began to migrate towards it. Patterson couldn't deal with this hunger pangs any longer. He left Elizabeth with Mitch Francis and joined the line of people waiting for sustenance.
Ten minutes later Patterson was back inside the school grounds. The atmosphere had changed dramatically and as he looked scanned the deserted area he wondered where everyone had gone. A uniformed officer was standing guard outside the entrance leading to reception. He walked up to him. 'Has something happened?' he asked.
'There's been a development right next to the car park.'
Before Patterson reached the end of the pathway, his eyes darted to the Dali wing. A woman's silhouette was perched precariously on the ledge below the roof. This was his first encounter with a potential suicide and his heart seemed to beat faster as he stood transfixed unable to turn away. Then he sa
w Elizabeth running towards him, she was breathless and sounded panicky. 'How did she manouevre into that position?' he asked.
'She crawled across the supports. Christine and two of the rescue crew followed her and now they're stuck too. They can't reach her because it's dangerous. I want Christine down now. Staying up there any longer is pointless.'
They walked back to the car park where preparations were in progress to attempt to break her fall should she jump. Inflatable mattresses were piling up in the area they had marked out. The fire crew in charge of the operation looked confident for all they knew there was still a slight margin for error.
'I can't face watching this play out. I need to sit down,' Patterson said. Elizabeth followed and they both slumped on a bench anchored to the car park wall.
Mitch Francis is going up. He's done this a few times before,' Elizabeth said.
'Do you think she'll do it?' Patterson asked.
'I thought Jackie might after telling everyone she'd killed Wilson and Harper.'
Patterson wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. 'Jackie Kilmartin's confessed.'
'As soon as she started screaming at everyone I knew who she was. One of the rescue guys who had spoken to her said she was a mess. Bruised all over, skin and clothes black from the smoke. No the wonder no one else recognised her. She's coughing a lot and that's why Mitch decided he'd had enough. Everyone has done their utmost and now the stupid woman isn't listening to anyone. If Jackie Kilmartin is determined to kill herself rather than go to prison that's up to her.'
Discovering the woman's identity hadn't sunk in. Patterson had kept an open mind regarding the teachers and other staff working at Grasmere. They knew that Wilson had waged a relentless tirade of verbal abuse against her for usurping the position he wanted. Had Kilmartin snapped, and decided to put an end to it all?
'Did she say why she killed both of them?' Patterson asked.
'No, I don't suppose she's bothered about that right now. You know something Tony. I can't make my mind up about her. Maybe this suicide attempt is a fake and all this palaver is to evoke sympathy. I'm hoping Christine might wheedle more out of her, but somehow I doubt it. Kilmartin is as hard as nails.'
