Page 57 of Murder in Shades of Fire and Ash

Charlie didn’t question Patsy’s sudden appearance. Megan was alive. Now he had to keep her that way and get them all out of this petrol-soaked hell. He dragged at Patsy, who pushed him away with unexpected strength.

“Get Megan,” Charlie said, and grabbed Corrine to pull her off Megan. Corrine was winded, gasping for breath in the noxious air, but she kept her grip on the lighter—thankfully, still unlit—as she struggled to roll away from Charlie’s grasp. But Megan was free, and Patsy grasped her by the shoulders and began to pull her towards the door although unconscious, Megan must have been a dead weight. She reeked of petrol. Her hair and clothes were sticky with blood, and as Patsy moved her, the head wound began to bleed afresh.

Charlie had nothing to staunch the bleeding, and no desire to stay a moment longer in the room with Corrine and her lighter. With horror, Charlie saw a bloody hammer on the floor beside where Megan had lain.

“You’ll have to help me,” Patsy said.

Charlie let go of Corrine, who appeared to have retreated into shock and silence, and moved to take one of Megan’s arms over his shoulder, with Patsy on the other side.

“Fuuuuck,” he moaned as his injured leg took the strain.

The unconscious woman made a small groan, spurring them to greater efforts. Once she was outside, they could call for help and go back for Corrine, with handcuffs. Charlie tried not to think about the petrol on all their clothes and Corrine’s lighter. Somehow, they staggered to the door and pulled it open. The rain continued to pour down relentlessly, and cold, wet, air rushed in. For the first time since opening the office door, Charlie could breathe without a lung full of petrol. The relief was overwhelming.

“We can’t take her out there,” Patsy said.

But there was no choice. “Supermarket,” Charlie gasped. “Quickly.” It was the nearest place with light and heat, less than a hundred yards across the car park. He heard Patsy draw in a deep breath and take more than her fair share of Megan’s weight as they started to half-run, half-fall-forward towards the entrance. Charlie wriggled his phone out of his pocket and call for help.

“DS Charlie Rees, Llanfair Police. We need an ambulance to Llanfair supermarket, front entrance, unconscious woman, head wound, shock.”

Then he calledMags and told her to round up whatever back-up she could find. Which would probably be no more than herself, Will, and Eddy.

As they approached the supermarket door, the few shoppers stared. Two soaked figures, holding up a young woman covered in blood, stumbling into the shop, next to the wire baskets and special offer avocados. One man, in a supermarket uniform,stepped forward to help, bringing a wheelchair. Gently, Charlie and Patsy eased Megan into it, and within minutes the green-clad paramedics ran in, carrying their suitcases full of equipment. Thankfully, they were locals who recognised Charlie and Patsy.

“Head injury found unconscious five minutes ago, her name is Megan,” Charlie rattled off. “I have to go.” And staggered back towards the DNLG office. Sweat ran down his face, competing with the rain. Every breath was painful, and he wasn’t going to think about how much his leg hurt.

The door was open, banging against the wall. Inside, the carpet had darkened with rain, but the smell of petrol was still discernible. At the end of the short corridor, through the doorway to the open-plan office, Charlie could see Corrine, sitting on the floor by the petrol can, lighter in hand. His crutches lay beside her, just out of easy reach. She was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Corrine,” he said, and she looked up, wiping her face with the hand not holding the lighter. “Corrine,” he said again. “It’s time to go. Let’s get out of here, have a clean-up and some warm clothes. Something to eat.”

“I don’t think so,” Corrine said, in a small voice, a Welsh accent noticeable for the first time. She sounded utterly defeated, nothing like the confident, well-dressed estate agent Charlie had met on the night of Unwin’s death. He remembered the misery in the anonymous posts about men on dating sites. If Corrine had been spending her evenings reading those posts, it was no wonder she was crying. But she had killed two people.

“I need you to come with me,” he said, putting some authority into his voice.

“I don’t want to go to prison,” Corrine said. “I’ll stay here.” She picked up the petrol can and began to pour the last of it onto her own clothes.

“Jesus, Corrine, no.” Charlie started forwards as Corrine flicked the lighter.

A sheet of yellow flame shot up to the ceiling, concealing Corrine from his view. At the same time, he felt his arm grabbed and pulled so hard that he thought it would dislocate.

“Get the fuck out of there,” Patsy shouted, and kept pulling.

“We can save her,” Charlie shook his arm, but Pasty held on with a bruising grip.

“No,” she said.

They heard a scream from the office. Corrine’s clothes were on fire. The scream went on and on.

Charlie yanked his arm away and tried to step back into the office. Which was when Patsy kneed him in the balls. The pain sent him stumbling, tears of agony stinging his eyes.

“I said,no,” she said, and curled her foot around his ankles so that he fell against her. From inside the room, the screaming continued; Charlie thought it would haunt his dreams forever. Evil-smelling smoke drifted towards them, the result of smouldering carpet and ceiling tiles. Patsy reclaimed her hold on Charlie’s arm and dragged him to the outside door. Behind him, the screaming stopped abruptly, and something inside Charlie hurt worse than his balls.

Foul smoke billowed out behind them as Patsy hauled Charlie into the car park.

“You alright, mate?” A man asked. One of the gawpers who had accompanied Charlie everywhere he’d been this week. Charlie gasped for breath.

No, since you ask. My colleague has just kneed me in the nuts and a woman has just burned herself to death in front of me.

“Fire brigade,” he wheezed.

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