BURN, BABY, BURN

by Jake Barton

  "Hang on." Abbott looked amused rather than angry. "Let her have her say. Better out in the open if there’s a problem in the ranks."

  Donna looked at him. Abbott was definitely smiling.

  "I can’t see it happening like you said. That’s the top and bottom of it."

  Abbott shrugged.

  "I’ve met the neighbour, Clive. Talked to him. There’s no way he would have started that fire. The person with the track record for fires is Marcus Green."

  Abbott shook his head. "There’s more to a fire investigation than you may think. It’s a specialised field, difficult for the arsonist to get away with anything. For instance, the couple in the bedroom had been tied to the bed. Probably with strips of sheet, but it’s one of the things an investigator looks for. If they say the bodies had been tied to the bed, that makes it murder. Also the fire definitely started in the Green’s house, only spreading next door later."

  "Marcus did it, I know he did."

  Abbott sighed heavily. "Not very likely, love. First of all, Marcus Green was one of the bodies found at the scene of the first fire. Are you suggesting he tied himself to the bed, somehow set fire to the house, and then went on to do the house next door? No, he was dead long before the fire even took a decent hold. The only likely suspect is the neighbour. We know there had been bad blood between them in the past, and he obviously killed himself rather than face the consequences when the fire spread to his own house. A neighbour saw the old man get out safely, but then he went back in again to try and get his wife and son out. Not a chance. Couldn’t see your hand in front of your face in there."

  "That wouldn’t have bothered him. He was blind."

  "Was he? I didn’t know that."

  "That’s not all you don’t know. There’s no way Clive could have started the fire. He never left his room, scared stiff that Marcus Green was going to kill him."

  "So, he saw his chance and took it. Got in first."

  Donna was about to respond when Dexter stood up. All eyes swivelled in his direction.

  "Okay," he said. "Enough chat for now. Donna, you’ve made your point and that’s all I want to hear from you now." His expression was stern and, although Donna had more to say, she bottled it. Dexter turned back to Abbott.

  "What about forensic? How far have you got?"

  Abbott shrugged. "Not much as yet. You know what it’s like with a house fire. Everything burnt to a crisp."

  "Definitely murder though? Not something else that got out of hand?"

  Abbott shook his head. "No chance. Not with the couple in the bedroom anyway. There’s one definite suicide, that’s the lad from next door. Topped himself, saved us the trouble of nicking him, I reckon."

  Abbott excepted, everyone looked at Donna. They all knew her family history. Donna fought to keep outwardly calm, but inside she was churning.

  "Marcus Green and his mother were tied to the bed and petrol thrown over them. Looks as if regular petrol had been mixed with diesel and some form of concentrated liquid soap to make a primitive napalm that would stick to the skin and do far more damage than petrol alone. This was meant to cause maximum damage. Nasty stuff. The son, Marcus Green, had deep abrasions from the ligatures used to tie him to the bed. Obviously struggled a lot, but never stood a chance. The investigators took ash samples and came up with two different types of cotton. We reckon strips of fabric were used to tie them to the bed, but not the same type as the other bedding. Too early to say any more, and the sample is very small, but the lab boys are happy with what they have. He really struggled, deep ridges evident in his flesh even after severe burning. There’s a possibility that he was hooded too. Traces of an undisclosed material in the throat, consistent with him biting through a gag or a hood, but don’t quote anyone from the lab on that." He laughed, mirthlessly. "Don’t quote me on anything. You didn’t hear any of this from me. I’m well out of order here, Guv."

  Dexter nodded. "I know, and it’s appreciated. What gets said here stays in this room. What about the woman?"

  "The same. Tied to the bed, but not much evidence of struggle. No abrasions, but she was tied with the same material. Either she didn’t struggle, which seems unlikely, or she was unconscious. Not already dead, though. The fire killed her. Hawkes has pulled out all the stops on this one. Nothing like a multiple murder stroke suicide to get every bugger excited. I’ve got you copies of provisional lab reports here." He brandished a wad of flimsies.

  "Anything we need to know now?"

  Abbott studied the sheets in front of him. "Toxicology reports in on all five victims. Nothing significant on the Hutton family, but…." He sifted through the papers, the tip of his tongue protruding from the side of his mouth. "Ah, here we are. Blood, urine, spinal fluid, brain, stomach contents, all major organs, yeah, that’s the lot."

  "Impressive," murmured Dexter.

  "Triple priority," Abbott snorted. "Rank has its privileges. Fair enough, though, they’ve done well, considering the circumstances. All the usual forensic disclaimers about not being gospel at this stage come with bells on. Seems to have been a bit of a raver, that Mrs Green. Barbiturates, big doses as well. Nothing for Marcus Green, apart from traces of Tetrahydrocannabinol." He looked up, smirking. "In other words, a couple of joints."

  "Smart arse," Dexter grumbled.

  "That amount of barbiturates in her system, I’d reckon she’d been drugged, but you know what it’s like getting a straight answer from the lab rats. It’s always too soon to say anything for certain."

  "The body assumed to be Marcus Green; how much evidence of identity is there?"

  "Pretty good so far. No chance of fingerprints of course, and dental records will take twenty-four hours, but there’s plenty of evidence at the scene. A ring with his initials and a distinctive watch, both badly damaged, but sufficient points of comparison with the records of his personal effects signed out to him on his release for his name to be given as one of the victims in the press release. Everyone’s after details, papers, the telly, every bugger."

  "Once the telly boys get involved, to say nothing of radio and the tabloids, it becomes news. Big-time. The sort of thing that makes careers. Or the opportunity for one final high-profile case before retirement."

  "Hawkes, you mean?"

  "Who else?" Dexter grunted. "He'll be all over this case like a rash. Still the darling of the media is he?"

  "More than ever. The Dobson girl and her mother are still missing, and now five deaths in a fire under suspicious circumstances. He’s on Crimewatch this week and the talk is he’s having his roots touched up in advance."

  "Bloody typical."

  "Just the opposite to what I’ve been used to," Abbott ruminated, with an amused glance at Dexter.

  Andy scented drama, gossip even. "Oh really?"

  Dexter grunted. Abbott was smiling at him with a degree of affection. "Not your sort of thing, this open door policy, is it, Merlin? I remember your version of a press release often wouldn’t contain a single usable fact. If it ever got into the papers, it would probably have been in the gardening section. Not that you wouldn’t have used the media when it suited you. Just because you once got quoted in the paper after speaking off the record. You were a bugger for holding grudges."

  "I still am," Dexter growled. "So, if you’ve given us all you’ve got…"

  Abbott made his departure, promising to keep in touch and they sat in silence until Dexter, who had walked him out, returned. Donna saw Andy looking across at her, but refused to meet his glance. She wanted neither censure, nor reassurance, whichever was on offer.

  Roper stood and walked over. "I never expected to hear such…"

  "Not now," Dexter interrupted. He gestured for Roper to resume his seat and waited until he did so, accompanied by another fierce glare in Donna’s direction.

  "Let me say, first of all," Dexter said, pacing between the desk and the window. "That I have every sympathy with Donna’s refusal to accept the present situation."

&nb
sp; Donna brightened, but subsided again at Dexter’s next words. "This is not to say, you should have challenged Abbott like you did. If you have anything to say, by all means let’s hear it, but don’t ever go up against a senior Police Officer and tell him to his face that he’s talking bollocks. Even if you think he is. Got it?"

  Donna nodded.

  "Right, that’s that covered. Time and a place for such things to be said and embarrassing Abbott is not the way to go about it. Think your own thoughts and save them until we’re alone. You can speak freely in this room."

  Donna nodded, biting her lip. Looking at the expression on Roper’s face, she wasn’t sure about that last remark, but was glad enough that Dexter had spoken up for her.

  "Assuming that Abbott is correct in his assumption that Marcus Green is dead…"

  "What other possibility is there?" Roper burst in, interrupting Dexter for the first time in anyone’s recollection.

  "We don’t know at this stage. Fire makes forensic enquiries difficult. When all the results are in, we’ll know for sure. I’m prepared to agree that the most likely scenario is that the deaths happened in the way Abbott suggested." He held up a hand as Donna was about to interject. "But I’ll keep an open mind until everything is settled to my complete satisfaction. In the meantime, it doesn’t change a thing."

  Donna stared at Dexter, unwilling to interrupt again, but still unhappy with the conclusions drawn by Abbott, and now apparently accepted by Dexter.

  "We still have a client," Andy said, breaking the awkward silence.

  "Exactly," Dexter agreed. "Our client is still missing, even if our chief suspect is dead. We still have a case, and in the present circumstances, it is even more important that we find Paula and Celine Dobson quickly. If Marcus Green was responsible for their abduction, and is now deceased, then we need to find them urgently. They could be imprisoned somewhere not realising that their kidnapper will not be returning with food and other supplies."

  There was a long silence in the room as they all tried to come to terms with the seriousness of the victims’ situation.

  "He’s still out there." Donna couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Roper frowned, but kept quiet. "There’s no way that Clive could have overpowered Marcus Green. I’ve interviewed him, remember. I know what he’s like which is more than Abbott, or anyone else in this room can say. He was scared stiff of Marcus, wouldn’t even leave his bedroom. I know how it looks, but even if Marcus is dead, the way Abbott said it happened is just not a possibility."

  "Now see here young lady," Roper blustered. "I think you’ve said enough."

  "No," Dexter said calmly. "Donna is the only one who knows anything about the chief arson suspect. That gives her the right to be heard." He turned and addressed his next remarks directly to Donna.

  "Feel free to express any opinions you like, just don’t expect everyone else to go along with them. You may be certain that things are not what they seem, and I never rule anything out until the evidence is overwhelming, but even you must see at this stage that the official line is the most likely explanation for what happened."

  Roper stirred. "As we agreed then, our case goes on. Any suggestions as to our next move?"

  "We’re still agreed that a place of concealment exists, somewhere out there?" Dexter enquired. They all nodded. "Right then. It’s more important than ever that we find it. If our suspect is dead, and always assuming that our clients are still alive, then their position is critical."

  "The police are still involved in this search?" Roper asked, his face grave.

  "Sure. I’ve told Abbott as much as we know. He’s been very fair and given us as much as we could ever have expected. It’s only right to pool our knowledge. The official hunt for the kidnap victims has been concentrated on inner-city areas as there is clear evidence of background traffic noise on the videotapes sent to Gary Rudd and our late client. Such things can be faked to confuse any investigation, but Abbott is sharp enough to know that the search area needs to be expanded. The problem is, it’s not entirely his decision, and knowing Hawkes, the Officer in Charge, as I do, I still feel that the victims’ best chance lies with the people in this room. I just hope I’m wrong as we’re no nearer finding them than we ever were."

  The mood in the room was sombre, each feeling the weight of responsibility resting on their shoulders.

  "Right then," Dexter announced, breaking the spell. "I’ve taken the liberty of preparing job sheets for us all. Circumstances dictate we divide our forces, but I must stress the importance of keeping in touch at all times. Martha has agreed to remain on duty indefinitely to take telephone messages and pass on information as it comes in." He handed out a single sheet of paper to each of them. Donna glanced at hers briefly. More legwork, but this was no time to grumble.

  Thirty seconds later Donna was sitting in her car, waiting for Andy to move out so she could drive off, when Dexter tapped on the window. Donna rolled it halfway down.

  "Donna, it’s not on your sheet, but ring me later and I’ll give you a time to meet me at Kate’s place. Good hunting." He walked across the drive to his own car as Andy drove off and Donna followed him out of the gates.

  *****

  Marcus stretched his arms above his head, rustling the branches of the tree beneath which he was concealed. He saw the old woman’s face at a first floor window. Steam misting the glass suggested that this would be the kitchen.

  He’d been watching the house for hours, building up an impression of the normal routine of the household. Time was of no importance. He would wait until he was certain of the time to strike. From time to time, he rubbed his thumb against the edge of the plastic card in his pocket. The photograph of Donna O’Prey excited him.

  Due to her interference in his life, she was a threat to his safety, and as such worthy of his interest. But it was more than mere interest. He wanted to hold her. Touch her. Most of all, he wanted to hear her scream. The thought sustained him throughout his long vigil.

  *****

  The first entry on Donna’s list was an address in Caldy, an impressive address. It cost serious money to live up here high on the hill overlooking the Dee estuary. Dexter’s scribbled note, below the typed address, told her the present occupants were the only people still resident in the area who’d been neighbours of the Green family when Marcus and his parents lived there.

  He’d already telephoned and arranged an appointment on her behalf. This wasn’t the sort of place where you dropped in unannounced.

  Donna drove through the open gates and parked on deep gravel. Glad not to be wearing girlie shoes, she got out of the car and walked towards the front door. She was expected, so didn’t bother looking for the tradesman’s entrance. Thick hedges imposed a barrier seemingly as dense and impervious as stone. An unnecessary second layer of interwoven fence panels enclosed the precisely clipped lawns and immaculate flowerbeds.

  A girl about five years older than Donna answered the door. Taller and a natural blonde, her hair feathered, cut close to the nape of her neck. Not an easy cut and pretty expensive Donna imagined. Donna had a childhood friend, now, sadly, in a long-term care hospital, and although this woman wasn’t Downs Syndrome as such, she reminded her instantly of that friend. Like her, she appeared to possess a delightfully pleasant and completely sunny disposition.

  They shook hands and she led the way inside, clearly eager to please. The hall carpet was deep-pile and of a quality way beyond Donna’s experience. Like the solid furniture, it had been bought to last. As with the furniture, she could imagine it being passed on to successive generations.

  A distinguished couple greeted her as she entered a delightful airy room with views over the sea. A view Donna could have looked at with pleasure every morning and felt at peace. The owner, whom she knew from Dexter’s notes to be Mister Snape, took a pace forward and extended his hand in greeting. A tall man who probably used to be somewhat taller as he was now slightly stooped, he held himself as erect as he could manage.
A military background, she surmised. Good quality clothing, Marks and Sparks probably, chosen with no concession to fad or fashion – high-waisted cord trousers with belt and turn-ups, white cotton shirt and sober tie, dark woollen socks and black lace-up shoes.

  He waved a languid hand at the chairs flanking the fireplace. "Take a seat," he said, the air of old-fashioned courtesy re-enforced by the subsequent "Please".

  Donna sat down on the chair immediately to the right of the fireplace, and after a momentary hesitation, Mister Snape took the chair next to her. Donna realised instantly that she had chosen his favourite chair.

  "Would you prefer...?" Donna offered, half rising and indicating a willingness to exchange seats, but he motioned her back with a gentle smile.

  Already ensconced in a window seat, his wife had that serene elegance found in a certain kind of woman, one who had accepted the loss of her former beauty and turned the changes in her appearance to her advantage. The lines and shadows on her face seemed only to increase the level of her attractiveness. She'd made no discernable attempt to conceal the effects of the passage of time, reliant on good bone structure and a positive attitude of mind. She had a good forty odd years on her, but Donna was as jealous as hell.

  They chatted for a while, skirting around the reason for her call, until Donna felt able to broach the subject directly. Her hosts, who could not have been more charming, didn’t intimidate her but the imposing surroundings were distracting. She’d never set foot in such a lovely house and her attention kept wandering to yet another wonder that caught her eye.

  "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about a boy who used to be one of your neighbours?"

  "That would have to be Marcus Green?" Mrs Snape said sadly.

  "Yes."

  "I thought so. Marcus is never far from our thoughts. The local radio news is full of that terrible fire. Tragedy was only ever a step away from that family. We were devastated when we heard what he’d done to those children. It’s so difficult to imagine such things in connection with a boy we’d known since he was a baby."