Inferno

by Jay Gill

  “I’ll make sure the girls and Mum are okay, and then I’ll nip out,” I said. “I’m going to speak with the fire brigade. They might be able to shed some light on what happened.”

  Monica nodded. “I want to get back to the hospital later if possible. Don’t be too long. I’ll phone your mum and ask if she and the girls need us to pick up any dinner.”

  “Okay. Great idea.” I was suddenly overcome with guilt about not thinking about my children and my mother. I hadn’t even considered whether Mum had enough food in the house. Let alone dog food for Sandy.

  Since Dad had died, only a few weeks ago, she’d lived alone and with little appetite. She wouldn’t have a freezer stocked with pizza or a cupboard stocked with tuna and pasta. Not like we do… or did.

  But instead, my mind circled back to what had just happened, to theories on how the fire started, who might have started it, and for what reason. I needed answers, and I needed them quick.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Fischer opened the front door, and Moon went straight to the bedroom and closed the door without a word. Fischer guessed her bad attitude was down to cutting out the coke and pills.

  He went to the kitchen and got himself a glass of water. Leaning against the worktop, he watched Judy. She was trussed up, wrists and ankles bound. The rope from her wrists was fastened to a door leading from the kitchen to the dining area. Her head was flopped forward, and she was sleeping. She must have sensed him watching. She opened one eye and then the other.

  Fischer held up the glass of water and Judy nodded. He filled a glass, got down on his knees in front of her and removed the strip of tea towel being used as a gag.

  “Will you let me go? I promise I won’t tell anyone. I swear,” pleaded Judy.

  “Drink.” Fischer held the glass to her mouth and Judy gulped down the water. He dabbed her mouth with the gag and sat on the floor next to her.

  “I know you’re not a bad man,” said Judy. “I sense it.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  Fischer stared at the glass of water he was holding, and Judy watched him.

  “I have a daughter, you know,” said Fischer. A smile flickered across his face as he thought of Jess. “I never saw her grow up, and I regret that. Decisions I made, bad luck and circumstance mean I don’t know her. I’d like to know her – properly, I mean. She’s incredible. She’s the only good thing I’ll leave behind when I’m gone.” He reached up and put the glass of water on the worktop. He folded his arms and looked at Judy.

  “It’s not too late,” she said.

  “Yeah, it is. I know that. For a little while I thought I might be able to have something good and precious but…” Fischer held out his hands and looked at them. “I’d just taint it. It’s better for her if I stay away. It was selfish of me to want more.”

  “I’m sure she’d want to know you better.”

  Fischer got up, went to the sink, turned on the tap and held his hands under the water. He was mesmerised by the cool liquid cascading over his skin. “We’ll be leaving in a day or two. As soon as we’re safe, we’ll make a call and inform the police of your whereabouts. You have my word. I’m sorry to have put you through this.”

  “You could let me go now.”

  “In a day or two.”

  “I think your girlfriend has other plans.”

  “How’s that?”

  “She wants to kill me.”

  “No, she doesn’t.”

  “She does. She said so.”

  “Don’t listen to her. She’s just trying to scare you.”

  “It worked.”

  Fischer stopped staring at his hands and turned off the tap. “She wants me to go to a gig. She’s singing. Playing the guitar too.”

  “Who? Your daughter?”

  Fischer nodded. “Do you think I should go?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “I need someone to ask. Moon is in a bad mood about something, so I can’t talk to her about it.”

  Judy tried to sit up straighter. Her bound wrists were sore, and her left buttock felt numb. “If you have time, you should go. If she wants you there, then definitely, you should go.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yep. What could be more important than seeing her perform?”

  “Thank you, Judy. I think I will. I’d better fix us some dinner. Can I leave the gag off for a while? Can I trust you?”

  Judy nodded. “My wrists hurt.”

  “I’ll think about it. Perhaps we can untie you at dinner.”

  Fischer turned the oven on and got some fish fingers from the freezer. “You okay with fish finger sandwiches?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You haven’t been eating while we were out, have you?”

  Judy looked at him quizzically.

  “Sorry. Bad joke.” Fischer poured the box of fish fingers onto a baking tray. “I’m going to need you to call in sick again. Tell them you’ll be off for the rest of the week. I’ll get the dinner underway, then I’ll get the phone.”

  Judy’s head dropped. She looked defeated. “Okay. You’ll keep me safe from Moon, won’t you?”

  “You’re not in any danger, unless you do something stupid. You have my word.” Fischer opened the oven door and slid the tray of fish fingers onto the rack. “Unless my cooking gets you. If it does, then we’re all doomed.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I stood in the driveway and looked at what had once been our home. I stepped towards the shattered front window and peered inside. Everything was blackened and charred and sodden. Water dripped and pooled from the hundreds of gallons used to put out the fire. My home was unrecognisable. Everything was gone. Memories that could never be replaced were now destroyed. Early photographs of Helena with Alice and Faith as babies. Soft toys and baby clothes, the girls’ locks of hair, pregnancy scans Helena and I had kept. Lost were all the drawings and paintings Alice and Faith had created as birthday cards and on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day and Christmas. Gone too were Alice and Faith’s favourite toys, clothes and keepsakes, items precious to them in personal ways, many of which were a last connection they had with their birth mother. The fire hadn’t just destroyed a house; it had stolen emotional connections and the feeling of security and safety that everyone strives to feel within the four walls they call their home. It would take us all time to comprehend and process the full extent of the physical, personal and emotional loss.

  “Hardy… Hardy?”

  I jumped as someone called my name.

  “Hardy?”

  I turned to discover Detective Inspector Cotton standing behind me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” I said. Cotton was with a man I didn’t recognise.

  “I was on my way to the hospital to speak to you when I spotted your car. This is Fire Investigation Officer Paul Teal.”

  Teal didn’t smile. He had a serious look about him, and his dark-brown eyes meant business. He put out his hand and I shook it. He was in his mid-forties and, judging by his grip, he worked out. “As I’ve explained to Detective Inspector Cotton, we’re investigating arson. The fire appears to have been started maliciously.”

  “There will be a full criminal investigation,” said Cotton. “I’ve asked to lead it.”

  I could tell from Teal’s cautious manner that even I hadn’t been ruled out as a possible suspect. “What makes you think it was arson?”

  “I’ve sent samples away to the lab for forensic analysis, but I’m already convinced an accelerant was used to start the fire. The lab will determine what that chemical was.” Teal became more animated as he explained his work and the process involved. He clearly enjoyed his job. “Typically, there is a point of origin, the place where the fire starts. We establish this by looking at the burn patterns.”

  Cotton and I followed Teal as he walked the perimeter of the house. “What’s unusual about this blaze is that there are two points of origin.” Teal
stopped and looked at me, his eyes unblinking. “The front of the property and the back were doused with an accelerant.”

  “What kind of accelerant?” I said.

  “If I had to guess. I’d say petrol.”

  “Officers have spoken to neighbours,” said Cotton. “A man and a woman were seen approaching the property right before the fire started.”

  “Do you have a description?” I asked.

  Cotton looked at Teal. “Not at this time.”

  Teal took his cue. “I’ll leave you two to it.” Speaking to Cotton, he said, “As soon as I get the results back, I’ll be in touch.”

  Teal and I shook hands again, and he left us alone.

  “What is it? What didn’t you want to say?” I asked.

  “The description of the male we received matches that of Edward Fischer. The woman is also a close match to a known associate, Faye Moon. The witness believes the car was a black Ford Galaxy. She has a friend with a blue version of the same style of car.”

  Edward Fischer, the man Kelly Lyle wanted me to kill. The man I put away for a string of murders, and who I was told by Kelly Lyle was the man behind the killing of my wife, Helena. He’d escaped prison and decided he wanted to burn my house to the ground.

  “Do you have any leads on where he is now?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

  “It’s better if you take a back seat,” said Cotton. “Emotionally, it would be wise. Even if you weren’t retired, I don’t think the chief would agree to have you involved.”

  I checked my jacket pocket and pulled out my warrant card. I held it up. “See this? All I have left are the clothes I’m standing in, that car behind me, my phone, my wallet, and this warrant card. You gave me this warrant card when you needed my help. It still has a few months until it expires. I intend to bring in Edward Fischer. My best friend’s wife is close to death because of what that man did. I’m going to find him and put him back where he belongs. Being emotionally invested is what makes me perfect for stopping him. I’m asking for your help. Please don’t stand in my way.”

  “You’ve already made the call, haven’t you?” said Cotton.

  “Yes. It’s nothing personal. I just had to make sure I’m part of the investigation. I made several calls. I can pull a lot of strings when I need to.”

  Cotton had no choice, and she knew it. She knew trying to stop me would be fruitless. “We’ll do it together.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. I really didn’t want to go around you. I’m going to text you an address. It’s my mother’s home, where I’ll be living for the foreseeable future. We need to work out what we do next.”

  “Actually, how about I pick you up in the morning? I’m going to visit a crime scene. Edward Fischer’s alleged getaway driver was found dead. I guess he’s covering his tracks.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Fischer woke to the sound of banging coming from the kitchen. He looked across the bed for Moon. Her side of the bed was empty. He looked at the bedside clock: 08:07. He swung his legs off the bed and walked barefoot to the kitchen. He scratched and tugged up his boxers and straightened his t-shirt.

  Judy looked up with anger in her eyes. She stopped banging her feet against the kitchen cabinet and mumbled furiously from behind the gag. Fischer removed the gag.

  “I need to pee,” blurted Judy. “Quickly! If you don’t hurry, I’m going to literally pee my pants. How can you sleep so deeply? Did you not hear me?”

  Fischer untied Judy and walked her to the toilet. He kept the door open and stood sideways on, so he wasn’t looking directly. “Where’s Moon?”

  “I don’t know. She went out early. I need to, you know, go properly. Can I please have some privacy…”

  Fischer looked at her perched on the toilet.

  “…and pull the light switch. It starts the extractor fan.”

  Fischer stepped out and closed the door.

  “Thank you.”

  Fischer spoke louder, through the door. “Did she say anything? Like where she was going?”

  “No. She was on the phone to someone.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Man or woman?”

  “How would I know that? A woman, I think.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I don’t want to burst your bubble, Fischer, but you and her are keeping me hostage. Moon and I don’t have heart-to-hearts. Girl chats. She doesn’t tell me anything. Christ’s sake!”

  “You all right?”

  “Yeah. Can you get me some paper? This roll is empty. There is a new pack in the tall cupboard just behind the kitchen door. Middle shelf.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t keep calling it that. You’re not a hostage.”

  “What would you call it? You’re keeping me here against my will.”

  Fischer thought about it. “‘Hostage’ implies demands need to be met before you’re released. It’s not like that.”

  Fischer found the toilet paper. On the way back to the toilet he picked up his pack of cigarettes, lighter and mobile phone. He threw a couple of rolls in to Judy, then lit a cigarette and called Moon. The phone rang and rang but Moon didn’t pick up. He hung up and tried again. Nothing.

  Judy came to the door.

  “You done?” asked Fischer.

  “Yes. Better. Shame I had to have an audience,” Judy said sarcastically.

  Fischer went to tie her wrists.

  “How about I make us some breakfast?” said Judy. “I noticed you bought stuff for a full English.”

  “Okay. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Like what? Overpower you with a rasher of bacon or beat you unconscious with a string of sausages? Then make my escape? Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

  Fischer laughed. He noticed Judy eyeing the cigarettes. “Want one?”

  “I stopped seven years ago. Not a week goes by…”

  “I think under the current circumstances you can be forgiven for having one.” He passed Judy a cigarette. Holding out the lighter, he pressed down his thumb and up popped the little flame.

  Judy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She slowly let out a long, satisfying plume of smoke. She sighed. They walked to the kitchen and Judy started preparing breakfast. Fischer sat at the table watching her. Judy placed the frying pan on the hob and poured in a little oil, then went to the fridge and took out sausages, mushrooms and tomatoes, bacon and eggs. She placed the cutting board on the worktop and put the mushrooms and tomatoes beside it. She gestured towards the knife block for Fischer to see. He nodded and Judy picked out a knife and began to slice the mushrooms and tomatoes into quarters.

  “You know, you could have just asked to stay here. You didn’t have to force your way in,” said Judy. “Cup of tea?”

  “Tea would be nice.”

  Judy filled up the kettle and dropped teabags into two daisy-patterned mugs.

  “I don’t think that would have worked out. Do you? ‘Hello, Judy. I know we just met, but can my crazy girlfriend and I stay indefinitely at your house?’”

  “Milk and sugar? So, you broke out of prison?”

  “Milk and two, please.” Fischer held up two fingers. “You don’t miss much.”

  “You and Moon are very chatty after… you know… sex. Hard not to overhear in a bungalow.”

  Fischer thought about Moon. He picked up his mobile phone and sent her a text message. U okay? Where r u?

  Judy placed a cup of tea down in front of Fischer. “She took a bag with her. Black canvas. I thought maybe she was leaving.”

  Fischer jumped to his feet and ran to the bedroom. He went around in circles looking for the bag of money; he opened the wardrobes and looked under the bed. “Shit!” He lifted his jacket, which hung from a wardrobe door. The jacket’s pocket was unzipped. His emergency thousand pounds was gone. “Bitch!”

  From the kitchen came a crashing sound. Fischer tossed the jacket aside and ran to the sound. The kitchen blinds were pulled; th
ey swung gently from side to side. The window was wide open and Judy was gone.

  Fischer stood in the middle of the kitchen and laughed hysterically. Two women run out on me in one day, he thought. That’s got to be a record for anyone.

  Fischer hunted around for the keys to Judy’s Volkswagen Polo. Finding them on a hook by the front door, he went to the bedroom and collected his jacket. He scooped up his cigarettes and mobile phone from the kitchen table on his way out of the house. He closed the front door behind him and headed for Judy’s car.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I let myself in to Mum’s house. It was quiet. Everyone had gone emergency shopping for clothes and shoes. They stayed until the last of the shops shut then called me to tell me they’d be eating out.

  I pulled the handles tight on the rubbish bag and yanked it from the kitchen’s silver pedal bin. I unlocked the back door and stepped out into the cool, dark night. Lifting the lid of the wheelie bin, I dropped the rubbish bag inside. I tipped the wheelie bin and dragged it to the front of the house. Collection day tomorrow.

  Across the street a car’s interior light came on. I looked left and right before crossing the street to the car. As I approached, Kelly Lyle lowered the window.

  “Evening, James, my darling. Get in, please.”

  I looked up and down the street then back at the house.

  “Oh, come on, James. Where’s your sense of adventure? I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

  I opened the door and got in. Lyle was wearing a cropped navy jacket with a pale-blue silk scarf. Her hairstyle and colour had changed to a short choppy blonde.

  “Have you and Sienna been formally introduced?” asked Lyle. “Sienna, say hello to James.”

  Sitting in the back seat of the car was the woman I’d seen in the sports car on the clifftop when I’d last met Lyle.