Embers and Echoes

by Daniel De Lorne

  Bob’s cries summoned spirits that scratched the back of Ben’s neck with their bony fingers, coaxing goosebumps to pucker along his skin.

  Toby slumped next to Bob, one arm draped over his shoulder, but he offered little comfort.

  Leila indicated with a jerk of her head that he should follow her. They left father and son and went a little way down the corridor. Once out of earshot, Leila confirmed that Bob had told her the same story. ‘We have to bring Toby in.’

  He tugged at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. Bob might not always be a reliable witness but they had enough to at least arrest and question Toby. But was that enough?

  ‘It was hard enough to believe Bob could have done this, but Toby? He said the fire would have started in the kitchen, probably petrol poured in through the window, so that matches Bob’s story, but maybe he’s confused.’

  ‘How does Toby know this?’

  ‘We searched the house.’

  Her eyes bulged. ‘You searched the house? Together?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You were with him the whole time, right?’ Her brow raised, propped up with a hint of hope that the answer he’d give would be the correct one.

  He hesitated.

  Her eyes closed and her head tilted back.

  ‘I only turned my back on him for a second,’ he hurried to clarify. ‘There wasn’t enough time—’

  ‘This is not good, Ben.’

  She didn’t have to tell him that. ‘Crap.’

  She groaned. ‘I agree it’s probably unlikely Toby’s our guy because he doesn’t seem that sort, but we can’t ignore what Bob said.’

  ‘I liked it better when Bob was the suspect,’ he muttered.

  ‘Maybe they both are. Unless Toby lit the one at the cemetery too.’

  ‘He couldn’t have.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  His credibility had—yet again—taken another bruising, but he’d done due diligence when it came to this aspect of the investigation. ‘I’ve asked around. It wasn’t possible for him to light that fire, then get back in time to attend it.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  He was. Too bad he couldn’t be so certain about anything else when it came to Toby. ‘So, what do we do now?’

  ‘Bring Toby in for questioning. He’s already given a statement but maybe he’ll change it.’ She paused and gave him a look, the kind given when someone’s dog dies.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘Do you think it’s possible this is because of what happened to your mothers? Has he snapped?’

  He crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Are you asking because you’re worried about him or you’re worried I’ll snap too?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she scoffed.

  ‘There’s your answer.’

  ‘But how do you know Toby didn’t do this? You two haven’t been close since you were kids. He barely registers your existence.’

  He studied the scuffed floor. He thought he’d known Jared and that had been a disaster. For a cop, he’d been far too willing to trust the people he loved. Could Toby lie to him about this? Was Toby not who Ben thought he was? Venomous snakes writhed in his stomach, striking and sinking their poison into him.

  Hadn’t Toby already confessed to something terrible?

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘I can’t know for sure. It’s a feeling.’

  ‘I know about your feelings where Toby’s concerned. Maybe you should give this case a rest. I can take over.’

  Heat flushed up his neck. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I have to do this. If I can’t do my job despite my feelings for the guy, then what kind of cop does that make me?’

  ‘A human one.’ She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed. ‘But look, if you get any more compromised, I’m telling you to get off the case. I’ll go above you if I have to. It’s for your own good. Got it?’

  Knowing she was looking out for him helped calm him. ‘You won’t need to, but I appreciate it.’

  ‘Any time. Ready to do this?’

  He took a deep breath. He needed a shower, a break between the fire and the upcoming interrogation, and something to wash away the feeling of Toby’s body against his. What had he been thinking, kissing Toby like that? He’d wanted a sign that the distance could be crossed, but secrets blocked their path.

  When they reached the cubicle, Narelle had appeared, telling them that Toby’s uncle was waiting out the front with the car. She implied that they were ready to go.

  ‘Tobias William Grimshaw, you’re under arrest for suspected arson. You do not have to say or do anything but if you do, it may be used in evidence against you,’ Ben said in a level tone, while his body numbed.

  ‘What?’ Narelle snapped.

  Toby shut his eyes. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘Based on what Bob’s said and your proximity to the scene, this is something we have to do. Now you can either come without any fuss or in handcuffs.’

  Narelle rushed to interject. ‘You can’t believe what Bob said.’

  Leila took over. ‘So far he’s the only witness, and he’s been pretty lucid throughout his time here.’

  ‘But he’s got dementia.’ Narelle gestured to her brother, who paid them no attention. ‘He’s confusing one event with another. Toby’s already told you what happened. He came out after Bob.’

  While Leila reasoned with Narelle, Toby’s eyes met Ben’s. They shone with defiance but also an assertion. You know this is wrong.

  His heart froze and the expression wiped from his face. That kiss, their past: obliterated. There was nothing he could have done differently, except not be the officer on this case. However, he was a cop, and, for better or worse, Toby was now a suspect.

  ‘Narelle, that’s enough,’ Ben said. ‘Please take Bob home, we have his statement. Toby, let’s go.’

  Narelle’s mouth flapped open and closed, while her hands fidgeted, seeking something to grab. She had probably believed they would disregard Bob’s admission.

  Toby clasped her shoulder. ‘It’s fine. Look after Dad. I’ll be home soon.’ He handed Narelle the clothes he’d been wearing after the fire. ‘Please take these with you.’

  Ben stopped him. ‘Sorry, Toby, we need them for evidence.’

  Toby relinquished his hold with a shake of his head. Ben handed them to Leila, who slipped them into an evidence bag she pulled from her vest.

  ‘You’re making a mistake,’ Narelle hissed, fixing him with a stare that could wither a crop of wheat.

  Don’t I know it.

  Toby came without a fuss, walking between him and Leila down the corridor and out of emergency. Medical staff cast looks as they passed. Some busied themselves, others openly gawked. The news that Toby Grimshaw had been arrested—whether guilty or not—would have ripped through the town by the end of the day, if not within the hour.

  In the car park, Ben marched him over to the back of Leila’s patrol car and held the back door open. Toby climbed in without speaking but disappointment flowed from him; Ben knew he was blaming him for not doing his job properly. Toby couldn’t see that the situation was impossible and any officer would have to do the same thing.

  Or perhaps he regretted the kiss because it hadn’t distracted Ben from the arsonist in front of him.

  Chapter Eight

  The interrogation room measured little more than three metres square. Chips and gouges marred the beige walls. The fluorescent lights overhead emitted gloom. Toby rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. When he took them away, he sought the clock on the wall beside him and watched as it slowly drifted into clarity. Quarter past nine. Was it still only morning?

  ‘You sure you don’t want a lawyer?’ Ben asked as he and Leila sat opposite him.

  He nodded. He was innocent. Someone else had lit the fire, and within a few hours they’d have found something to prove that. Hopefully before the four hours they were legally allowed to hold him for were up.

  Leila’s
eyes sparked as she studied him, her enjoyment obvious. The two of them hadn’t been on the friendliest terms since she returned to Echo Springs. He couldn’t think why; they’d barely spoken. Her stare would have made a guilty man squirm. But not him. He had nothing to hide.

  At least not about this fire.

  The cop he really worried about was Ben. Impassive, statue-like, cold Ben. The Ben he liked the least. The Ben that spurred him to do better. The Ben that brought out those misguided, want-to-make-him-proud-of-me feelings. He sat straight behind the steel-topped table, with his palms resting on the edges of a pad of paper. A pen lay next to his right hand, ready to be picked up and used to record whatever he said.

  ‘Right, let’s go back to the beginning,’ Leila said. ‘Tell us what happened this morning.’ Leila pulled out the pad she’d used to write down his earlier statement. She needn’t have bothered; there’d be no difference in his story. There should be no reason he wouldn’t be out of here in ten minutes, maybe fifteen. Give them the statement; get the hell out.

  ‘The smoke alarm woke me and—’

  ‘What time was that?’ Ben cut in.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he snapped before his brain lurched out of its haze and reminded him aggression wouldn’t get him out of here any sooner. He tried a more conciliatory approach, ignoring the sour taste in his mouth. ‘I guess it was about four-thirty, maybe quarter to five.’

  ‘So, you looked at a clock?’ Ben’s dismissive tone whipped him.

  The skin at the top of his chest heated as anger burbled beneath the surface. He swallowed hard to keep it down, annoyed at himself at how quickly it had risen. They were trying to get to him. They’d use whatever cop tricks they had at their disposal to trip him up. Leila wanted him to be guilty, but it sounded like Ben did too. ‘I looked at my phone when I got outside and it was almost five so I worked backwards. Can I go on? The sooner this is over, the sooner you can get back out there and find who really did this.’

  Ben scribbled while Leila flipped through the pages of his older statement. The rustle of paper and scratch of the pen were the only sounds while they ignored him. Toby wanted to reach across the table, grab Ben’s face and reason with him. Instead he closed his hands into fists and tried to rein in his frustration.

  Eventually Leila looked up and marked a place on the page with her index finger. ‘You said that the fire was already going strong when you woke. Why didn’t you wake up sooner?’

  ‘I’m a heavy sleeper,’ he said, ignoring Ben’s lift of his head and subsequent stare. ‘The fire was going when I woke up. I smelled the smoke and felt the heat so I jumped out of bed, grabbed my phone and called for Dad as I ran down the hall.’

  ‘Where were you running?’

  ‘To Dad’s room.’

  ‘Did you stop anywhere?’

  ‘The kitchen.’

  ‘Why the kitchen?’

  ‘That’s where the fire felt the strongest. I saw the flames, checked Dad wasn’t there, then kept going.’

  ‘How are things with your Dad?’ she asked.

  He flinched at the hand-brake redirection. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Your relationship. It must be strained considering his health.’

  He bit hard on his tongue, the sting darting out to pierce the red bubble inflating inside him. ‘Our relationship is fine. He’s not that bad.’

  ‘So, he doesn’t have dementia?’

  Ben rearranged himself in his seat.

  ‘Yes, he’s got dementia. You’ve seen it. The whole bloody town’s seen it.’

  ‘Does that bother you?’ she asked. ‘People knowing?’

  ‘I couldn’t give a rat’s arse what the town thinks.’

  ‘That’s strange considering how much of yourself you commit to the place. Has looking after your dad made that difficult? Do you resent him?’

  He shook his head, using the motion to distract from the long exhalation he needed to clear his thoughts. This from someone who hadn’t been back in town more than five minutes. And considering her background, she had the nerve to question his dedication and paint him as someone who cared more about appearances than helping people.

  She’s trying to rattle me.

  She wanted him to admit to things that weren’t true. He took another deep breath.

  ‘I don’t resent my father. If anything, I wish I could do more for him. It’s not been easy.’

  ‘Would it be easier without him?’

  ‘That’s not what I meant,’ he said harshly. ‘He’s done it tough. Lost his wife, now losing his memory and who he is. It’s hard to watch but I bet it’s harder for him.’

  Leila stared back at him but he held her gaze. She didn’t know the debt he owed his father. Caring for him was the least he could do.

  ‘Whatever you’re implying, he’s not a burden and I wouldn’t change anything.’

  ‘Let’s return to the fire,’ Ben said.

  Toby eased back, surprised to find himself so far forward over the table. Leila smirked and it took every bit of restraint to stop from sneering at her. The angrier he got, the more likely it would be they’d pin him for something.

  ‘What can you tell us about the fire?’ Ben asked.

  ‘I think it started in the kitchen. The fire had consumed most of it and gone into the roof and through part of the house. I don’t think it had been lit long before I got there. I could still smell the accelerant. Petrol.’

  ‘How can you be sure it was petrol?’ Leila asked.

  ‘Because I’m damn good at my job, and any idiot could detect the smell.’ There was no point in being civil with her; it didn’t work. ‘Can I go on?’

  Ben nodded, putting his hand to his mouth and dragging his finger across his bottom lip.

  Toby looked away. Focusing on Ben’s lips was not going to help him now. Not that it had ever helped him. If only they could go back a few hours.

  Or years.

  ‘I called for Dad as I ran down the hall. I checked his room but he wasn’t there. I then ran out the open back door. The roof collapsed behind me soon after. I cut around the house and then a neighbour got me and brought me over to him.’

  ‘Who called the fire brigade?’ Ben asked.

  ‘I did. I called from inside the house.’

  Ben jotted this down.

  ‘Can anyone confirm any of your side of the story?’

  ‘Only the people who saw me come out of the house. No doubt Dad knows something.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘I’m sure he saw someone. You know, the guy you two should be out pursuing instead of wasting time here with me.’

  ‘Bob was pretty emphatic it was you,’ Leila said.

  ‘Then he’s mistaken. He often gets like that. Ask his doctor.’

  ‘What did you do after the fire?’ Leila took over the questioning.

  ‘I waited until the fire was extinguished. One of your officers put up the crime-scene tape, while I went inside the house. Ben came with me.’

  ‘Why did you go into the house? It was a crime scene.’

  ‘I wanted to help with the investigation and to see what was left.’

  ‘Constable Fields says there was a moment where you were out of his sight. What did you do?’

  He looked to Ben but he had his head down. The muscle in his jaw twitched.

  He couldn’t—

  Before now Toby assumed Ben was just following procedure, as galling as it was, but now he saw the truth. Ben believed he was sitting across from the arsonist. The air was stripped from his lungs and took with it a piece of him he hadn’t realised was still there, the part of him that thought Ben might love him.

  He dragged his hands off the table and steadied them on his thighs. They already had the letter so there was no point in denying it. Revealing its existence exposed him more than he cared. The one thing he’d saved from the house. The one secret he wanted. But what did it matter now? That kiss. This distrust. He should have thrown the envelo
pe in the fire. He would have if he had known it would lead here.

  If that was so, then why did he hesitate to tell them about it now?

  ‘I grabbed a letter.’

  Leila continued. ‘And you didn’t tell either officer you wanted this letter?’

  ‘I didn’t think it was any of their business.’

  ‘But it was important enough to contaminate a scene for. Surely you knew it was a dumb move.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me that,’ he barked. ‘I’ve been to more of these than you, Leila.’

  Her eyes narrowed as she readied to pounce. ‘Constable Mayne, thank you. But I don’t see what could be worth the risk.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking about procedure, alright?’ He thrust forward over the edge of the table. ‘I wasn’t thinking about what was right or wrong, just that I had to go back for the letter in case it got destroyed. The roof had fallen in and the place was dripping with water, but I had to get it.’

  Ben cleared his throat. ‘And did you?’

  He nodded. They’d look at it. They hadn’t searched his clothes already or else they wouldn’t be going down this line of questioning. Ben would know what it was the moment he saw it and that should be enough to clear him. But a part of him didn’t want Ben to see it. Especially not now. Saving it had meant nothing.

  ‘Where is it?’

  It was a simple question, but answering it came with so much gravity it crushed him.

  ‘Where is it, Toby?’

  If only I’d let it go up in flames. If only I’d stayed in the car.

  ‘You’ve already got it. It’s in my shorts in the evidence bag.’ He’d extracted the letter from a metal tin hidden in his top drawer, leaving everything else behind. It was still in the same envelope, the paper yellowing, the edge torn. But after he’d retrieved it, it had crumpled, and creases that hadn’t been there before now marred its surface and the letter within. He’d taken such good care of it, but now…

  ‘And what’s in the letter?’ she asked. She thought it would be something incriminating. Perhaps it was.