Liar Liar - [31]

The six-year-old girl was still in a critical condition, but she was stable and with each passing day her chances of survival increased. She had a long road ahead of her and who could predict what kind of life awaited her at the end of it, but there were grounds now for cautious optimism. Thomas Simms looked up as Charlie approached, offering her a brief wan smile, before returning his gaze to his daughter.

‘How’s she doing?’ Charlie asked, as brightly as she could.

‘Up and down. But more up than down. She has her mother’s spirit.’

Charlie nodded and looked at the little girl. She looked so fragile there, wrapped in bandages, her breathing and heart rate controlled by machines – Charlie hoped Thomas Simms was right.

‘And how are you?’ Charlie asked.

Thomas Simms just shrugged, but said nothing in reply.

‘It’s tough, I know,’ Charlie continued and was immediately aware of how hopelessly inadequate her response was. What did she know of what he was going through? Charlie was thinking what to say next – and coming up blank – when Thomas suddenly said:

‘I heard about last night’s fires.’

Once more, Charlie kicked herself. This was why she was here, to make sure Thomas and his family were up to speed with developments and yet in her own blundering way she had left it to Thomas to bring it up.

‘Of course. That’s why I wanted to see you – to answer any questions you may have about them.’

‘Are they connected?’

‘It’s a bit early to say. We’ll know more later when we have the forensics reports. But the MO appears to be similar.’

Everyone at Southampton Central was assuming the perpetrator was the same, but no one would say it publicly.

‘Is there any connection to Spence? With these latest…’

‘Nothing so far. There’s nothing in his accounts to suggest he’d lent to any of last night’s victims and the individuals concerned don’t appear to have heard of him.’

‘So this is something else then?’

Charlie paused, uncertain how best to respond, and before she could do so, Thomas Simms added:

‘Karen’s death and Alice and Luke… they’re all part of something… bigger?’

‘That’s what we’re trying to find out.’

‘Well perhaps you could fucking hurry up.’

It was spat at her with such venom that Charlie was struck dumb.

‘I don’t think you get it, do you? Any of you. You come in here with your platitudes and good wishes, but I’m dealing with a terrified sixteen-year-old boy whose whole life has been crushed and who is looking to me for answers as to why his mother is dead. Is it something he did? Is it something I did? Or is it because some crazy fucking psychopath wants to burn down the whole city?’

‘Believe me we’re pulling out all the stops -’

‘Well it doesn’t look that way to me. So stop mollycoddling me and do something. Get out there and do your bloody job.’

With that he turned back to Alice, dismissing Charlie once and for all.

On her way out, Charlie kept her head down once more. But this time it wasn’t to avoid entreating glances. It was to hide her shame.

42

Helen awoke with a start. For a moment, she had no idea where she was or how she’d got there. Then slowly the pieces started to fall into place and, taking in the familiar surroundings, she recollected her decision to sleep in her office. There had seemed little point going home given the late finish, and she’d had a day bed installed some time ago for such eventualities.

‘Helen?’

It was softly spoken but still made her jump. Someone was in the room with her. The voice wasn’t familiar or at least not in this context. Straightening up, she was surprised to find Gardam standing in the doorway.

‘Sorry, I did knock three times, but you didn’t seem to hear me.’

His eyes were cast down as he spoke and Helen realized that she was still half dressed. Torn between sitting like an idiot with a sheet pulled across her chest or getting dressed, she chose the latter – scurrying across to the wardrobe and rifling through it for a fresh blouse and suit. As she pulled her clothes on, Gardam carried on speaking, his eyes still fixed to the floor to spare her blushes.

‘I know the team’s due in shortly and I wanted to catch you before your briefing, so we can talk about our media strategy. The press conference is scheduled for eleven a.m.’

Smoothing down her clothes, Helen emerged from her impromptu changing area. She had her professional face on now, but felt embarrassed at having been caught out in this way.

‘I meant to talk to you about that,’ she replied evenly. ‘Press liaison isn’t really my thing -’

‘It’s ok. I’m happy to field them if you want, but if you change your mind -’

‘Thank you, sir. I think it’s important that I stay with the team.’

‘I agree. So what have we got for them?’

‘Well, we’re still sifting the intel from last night, but we do have one interesting lead – CCTV footage of a man running away from the house in Bevois Mount shortly before the blaze began. I’ve run off stills that we should share with the media – see if anyone recognizes him. I’m also going to show them to Gary Spence – I’d like to see his reaction, in case the man turns out to be one of his lackeys. But in truth I’m not holding out much hope. We’ve yet to establish any link between Spence and the properties targeted last night and I’m just not sure it’s his style – it’s a very public and messy way to conduct business.’