Liar Liar - [54]

‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ Ford responded quickly.

‘We found a bin which was overflowing with tissues,’ Sanderson butted in. ‘We’ve had a few of them analysed and guess what. There’s semen on every one. And, hey, I’m no prude. I know what boys get up to. But here’s the thing. There’s no pornographic material in your little attic, no web history of porn surfing either, so exactly what is it that gets you so excited?’

Silence in the room now. For the first time, Helen thought she saw doubt in Hannah Shapiro’s eyes.

‘I was wrong earlier,’ Helen said. ‘You don’t like fire, do you? You love fire.’

Ford shook his head unconvincingly, so Helen stepped up her attack.

‘You like the way it dances, don’t you? What do you think it’s saying to you when it does that? Is it calling to you? Asking you to come closer? Or is it performing for you? Dancing to its master’s tune? Is that what you like? The feeling of power it gives you? The knowledge that all this chaos, all this fear, all this beauty was created by you? I don’t blame you for that. I can see the attraction.’

Ford closed his eyes.

‘I think your curiosity about fire goes way beyond professional interest. I think it’s an obsession. And I think that’s why you started these fires. I don’t know yet if you meant to kill anyone – but I know that you wanted these fires to be big, for people to take notice of them and, through them, you. This was your moment, wasn’t it, the moment you finally became what you were meant to be? But it’s over now, Richard, so for your sake as well as for the sake of your victims, it’s time to tell us what you know.’

A long, pregnant pause. All eyes were now on Ford. He stared at the ground for what seemed like an eternity, then slowly he looked up. He half turned to Shapiro and shook his head slowly. His lawyer didn’t miss her opportunity.

‘We’ll take that as a “No comment.” My client has said everything he’s going to, so it’s shit or get off the pot time, Inspector. Either you charge my client now or you release him without delay. It’s really very simple.’

That cocky smile returned to her features once more.

‘So what’s it going to be, DI Grace?’

71

‘Come on, cheeky girl, it’s time for you to go to sleep.’

Jessica Brooks giggled, picked up one of the many fluffy toys that filled her cot and threw it at her mother. It was the third projectile that Jessica had had aimed at her in the last minute. She was trying to be stern, but privately loved this little game. Jessie seemed to enjoy it so much, displaying a vivacity, cheekiness and sense of humour which Charlie found irresistible. She fervently hoped that her daughter would never lose that aspect of her personality. She was a little girl who seemed to enjoy life and Charlie hoped she always would.

‘Now, don’t you do that again.’ She wagged her finger at her daughter in a pantomime gesture. Jessica’s hand was already stretching towards a cuddly panda and seconds later it flew at Charlie. Quickly Charlie caught and threw it back, causing more peals of giggles from Jessica.

Charlie could hear the landline ringing elsewhere in the house and she prayed it wasn’t for her. She loved her time with her daughter and the couple of hours spent in her company tonight had made her feel normal again. Or as normal as could be expected. Her voice was still hoarse, her throat hurt like hell, but the shock had worn off, her hands no longer shook and each minute spent in Jessica’s joyful company was a powerful tonic.

The phone had stopped ringing and she could hear Steve talking. She breathed a sigh of relief, then turned to her daughter once more.

‘Ok, you. How are we going to get you to sleep? It’s past your bedtime and you know you’ll be a grouch in the morning if you’re tired. So how about we put Brown Bear, Teddy, Snoopy and Fred back in your cot and think about closing our eyes.’

Jessica didn’t seem particularly keen on this plan, defiantly kicking away the descending mass of soft toys. Charlie realized Steve was now in the doorway and, smiling, gestured towards Jessie.

‘Do you want to have a go? I don’t seem to be having much joy.’

But the look on Steve’s face stopped her in her tracks. He looked sombre and very pale.

‘It’s for you,’ he said simply, holding up the cordless phone.

Charlie suddenly felt sick, though she didn’t know why. Steve never let things get to him, so it must be bad.

‘Charlie?’ he reiterated, offering the phone to her. Now she didn’t hesitate, plucking it from him and walking from the room.

‘Charlie Brooks,’ she said quickly into the receiver.

‘It’s Susan Roberts, Charlie.’

Susan was one of the Force’s most experienced Family Liaison Officers. Charlie knew her to be a cheery, redoubtable character but her tone only served to spike her anxiety still further.

‘What’s the matter, Susan? What’s happened?’

There was a long pause. To Charlie’s surprise, she realized that Susan was trying not to cry. She had an inkling now of what was coming, but still it rocked her backwards when Susan finally said:

‘Alice Simms is dead.’