Page 14 of Murder in Shades of Fire and Ash

“It’s four crimes,” Ravensbourne said. “Or possibly. Patsy would know and would quote the statutes. This man who pretended to be a fire officer. It’s certainly obstruction.”

Charlie divided the board into four columns, headed Arson, Graffiti, Murder? and Fire Officer. There was precious little to go under any of the headings, and only wild speculation to connect the four. He sat down, feeling damp sweat bloom everywhere his skin touched another surface.

“Unwin could have been meeting Jeff Britton, or whatever his name really is, for sex, and he could be the killer …” was Eddie’s offer, though it failed to account for the graffiti … or, as Charlie pointed out, to account for meeting in an abandoned, and presumably locked, building.

“Only an idiot would come back the next morning to show the cops where the body was,” Mags said. “Unless he was worried that he’d left fingerprints and wanted an excuse for them to be there.”

“But he seemed genuine,” Charlie said. “He knew his stuff about the fire, and he didn’t disappear after we found Unwin.”

“Arsonists do that,” Eddy said. “They like everything to do with fires … know all about them …”

Round and round they went, their theories getting more outrageous with each turn, until Ravensbourne waved her hand.

“Enough.” She looked at Charlie, who stood up again beside the whiteboard. “Populate it with actual evidence,” she said.

Charlie added the few things they actually knew: the ownership of the building, the time of the fire, the time Unwin’s body was discovered by the police, all the identifying details they had for Jeff Britton, pictures of the shop, pictures of Unwin’s body, pictures of the graffiti, references to the various social media comments about immigrants coming to Llanfair.

“Suspects? Put their names up. All of them.” Ravensbourne asked, and with a sickening lurch in his belly, Charlie knew exactly the name she wanted him to write on the board. He shook his head as he spoke.

“No, boss. I don’t believe it. No. You’re wrong.”

“She was the nearest thing he had to a spouse; he would have gone to meet her without question; and she was close to the source of the fire when it started. You, yourself, said that Unwin’s sister accused her of killing him because of her jealousy over ‘his other women’. I know she’s a police officer, and a friend, but Patsy Hargreaves has to be considered as a suspect in her boyfriend’s murder.”

11

Sunday lunchtime

For the second time in an hour, the break room was silent with shock. Eddy spoke first.

“With the best will in the world, ma’am, weknowPatsy. She’s not a killer.”

“I didn’t say she was, Eddy, and please don’t ma’am me. I said she had to be considered as a suspect for the reasons I outlined. I will make arrangements for a formal interview with someone who doesn’t work with her.”

“But,” Eddy said, “we were with her.”

“For every single moment?” Ravensbourne asked, almost certainly knowing that the answer had to beno.

“For most of the evening,” Charlie said. “And Dylan said Unwin left after dinner. If we nail those times down, I’m sure Patsy will be in the clear.”

Ravensbourne gave him one of her signature pats on the arm. Charlie felt the reverberations throughout his body. “I’m sure you’re right,” she said. “It would be useful to know what time Unwin died, to make a proper timeline. Hector is doing the autopsy later this afternoon and I suggest you go and observe. Eddy and Mags can start trying to find the elusive Jeff Britton.”

Charlie treated the ‘suggestion’ that he might observe the post mortem of the man who had been his colleague as the instruction it certainly was.

Ravensbourne stood up, feeling in her pockets for cigarettes and lighter.

“Walk me out, Charlie,” she said.

Once in the tiny car park, happily shaded by an out-of-control sycamore tree, Ravensbourne lit up and inhaled deeply, blowing the smoke out with a great sigh.

“You look like shit,” she said. “I need you at the top of your game. You’re not stupid. Patsy could have killed him. Anyone can kill anyone in the heat of the moment, and fuck only knows there are a lot of heated moments this week.” She gave a twisted half smile at her pun. “Have you ever been jealous, Charlie? It’s the worst feeling in the world, and people kill over it. You’ve been a copper long enough to know that.”

Charlie began to protest, but she gripped his arm, thankfully with the cigarette-less hand. “I’m not saying she did it, I’m saying she could have done, and if you start by ruling her out completely, you won’t do a proper job. Evidence not instinct on this one. Either clear her or convict her; anything else and her life will be hell anyway. Rumours, and talk ofno smoke without fire.”

Was that fair? He didn’t know. Ravensbourne had backed his instincts in the past. She knew Patsy, if not as well as he did. Jealousy was corrosive, and love could kill, and having killed, drown in despair and grief at what it had done.

“Boss,” he started.

She turned towards him, but he shook his head. “It’s nothing.” Because that was a thought he wasn’t going to share. Or not until he’d had time to turn it over and look at it from every angle.

---