Page 52 of Murder in Shades of Fire and Ash

Gwenann shook her head, pursing her lips at Charlie as if he were wasting everyone’s time with foolish questions. He wanted to know why the estate agents wouldn’t want to start a fire, but he wasn’t sure he had the mental strength to listen to the answers. Instead, he thanked her for her help and headed back up the stairs to the shop door.

“Aren’t you going to buy that hammer?” Gwenann called after him.

Charlie rehearsed several answers:

I’m not putting pictures up, and if I was, I’d buy a claw hammer. I already have one just like it in the evidence store. We got it from a dead body. I’ll get one off the internet now I know which one to buy, so thanks for that …

Tempting though it was, he simply said “not today, but thanks” and left, manoeuvring himself and the crutches through the door with some difficulty.

Outside the sky was dark and heavy with unshed rain. The air felt chilly after the days of heat, and Charlie shivered in his summer shirt. He debated going around the corner to the estate agents, and as he dithered, the first heavy drops fell, leaving dark circles on the dry pavement. Charlie tried to run, but could only hobble, nowhere near fast enough to save being soaked to the skin by the time he let himself into the police station.

He was stripped to his underwear and scrubbing with a towel at his cold wet skin, and hoping the bandage wasn’t too wet, when Eddy came into the men’s locker room.

“What do you know about Huw Jones the estate agent?” Charlie asked.

“Only that they own half the town,” Eddy replied.

40

Wednesday late morning

There was a clean, dry shirt in Charlie’s locker, but no trousers or socks. Could he ask Tom to bring more clothes? Or should he wrap the towel round his waist and ignore strange looks from his colleagues? He stood wearing a shirt and underwear, trying to decide.

“Here,” Eddy said, and thrust a bundle of dark grey sweatshirt fabric into his hands. “It’s clean.”

The fabric turned out to be a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, and a moment later, Eddy presented him with a pair of thick socks.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Charlie said, “I’m bloody freezing.” The clothes fit where they touched, and he had to roll the trousers up — a lot — but he was dry and warm, and for that he gave thanks. He padded his way along to the break room, trying not to trip over the oversized socks, or get them tangled in his crutches. To his surprise, Mags and Will were already there, working on laptops rather than at their desks upstairs. Mags raised her eyebrows at his attire.

“I got soaked coming back from theEverything Shop,” Charlie explained.“And now I want a hot drink.”

Will was closest to the kettle and took the hint.

“Huw Jones,” Charlie said when they all had drinks. “Local estate agent, and according to Eddy, owns half the town. More to the point, he sent one of his staff to buy a hammer exactly like the one we found by Unwin’s body, and then another one a couple of days later when the first one got lost.” He wiggled his fingers into virtual quote marks around “got lost.” “We need to know more about Huw Jones.”

“He was at the first fire,” Eddy said, “and he had a lousy alibi for the evening before.”

Charlie cast his mind back. Jones had told them he had driven to a pub and spent the evening chatting to people whose names he had forgotten. Unconvincing at best. He also recalled that Tom had told him the industrial estate was managed by an estate agent, and he would have put money on it being Huw Jones. The estate agency — or perhaps Huw himself — owned both the Hassan premises. All that was missing was a connection to Unwin, and to Josh Pettifor.

“OK. We need to find out everything we can about Huw Jones. The man and the company. Could the fires have been insurance fraud? Does he have a connection to Unwin, or Pettifor? Did he, or any of his staff buy a petrol can, or even two? Can we check that alibi? Obviously, we’ll have him in to ask for an alibi for the Mo’s Autoparts fire, but let’s get all our ducks in a row first.”

“What about the petrol?” Mags asked. “Whoever set those fires must have taken the petrol with them, and they would have to buy it somewhere. We can contact the local garages to see who bought petrol in a can.”

“They’ll have CCTV,” Eddy said.

The atmosphere in the room became charged with purpose. Will wrote the jobs on his Flipchart. Eddy said he’d go round thelocal filling stations, and “I’ll be close enough to call into the pub where Jones said he was.”

“I’ll come with you, and we can drop Mags at theEverything Shop,” Charlie said, and turned to Mags. “Get a statement from Gwenann who works there and see if she’s remembered which of the women bought the hammers. There are only three of them, so a description will do. Don’t let her pump you for gossip — she’s desperate for the inside story. Then ring here, and one of us will pick you up.”

Mags protested that it was two minutes’ walk, just as thunder crashed overhead, rattling the windows in their frames and making them all jump. “OK, I’ll ring,” she said with a smile.

“Will,” Charlie said. “You are going to turn Huw Jones’ life inside out. Does he, in fact, own half the town? Is his business in need of a cash injection? Why is he on a dating site even though he’s married? What else does he do for fun? What’s the connection between him and our victims? Once we know all that, it’ll be time for a chat with the man himself.”

Charlie puthis wet shoes back on to get out to the car and nodded when Eddy asked if they would be going to Charlie’s house first for a change of clothes. He almost wished he didn’t have to change. The sweatpants and hoodie were well-washed and felt warm and soft against his skin.Clothes maketh manhe thought, and grinned internally, imagining turning up to interview petrol station staff dressed this way.

Walking up the path, Charlie heard the unwelcome sound of Taylor Swift. Please don’t let the girls be back … possibly for ever, only he wasn’t going to think about that. Tom appeared at the kitchen door.

“Are our mistresses back early?” Charlie said.

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