‘Yes, I was at the scene... it was a night that isn’t easy to forget. They never are, particularly when there are fatalities... and in this case those two little girls.’
‘There was an investigation to determine the cause of the fire, as arson was suspected?’
‘Yes, that’s correct. It was a very thorough enquiry. No chemicals were found... by that I mean no accelerants, and the team were eventually in agreement that the fire was accidental. Let me show you.’
Hookam stood up and went over to a small bureau, opening a drawer. He searched around and brought out a thick, worn notebook. He opened another drawer and took out a pen, lowering the felt covered writing shelf. He began to draw on a blank page in his book. Jack sat patiently, listening to Brian’s laboured breathing.
‘Right, come on over and have a look. I’m no artist but what I’ve drawn is the house, the ground floor, the staircase and the bedrooms on the landing. Where I’ve put a cross, that was the first gasoline heater, which was an old model and no longer sold. The girls’ bedroom was at the back. The window was barred and was obviously not facing the street where the fire engine had access. There was a second gasoline heater, a more modern one, against the wall by the bedroom door. It was determined that one of the children had put a synthetic duvet over the top of it. This is where the fire was started, and as the door had been left open, once the fire caught it started to spread very quickly onto the landing. Then the second heater caught fire, creating a fire ball. The banisters had been filled in with chip board, so the fireball was channelled down the stairs.’
Jack looked at his drawing. ‘So, the children were totally trapped, unable to get out of the window or make it out onto the landing?’
‘Correct, and the smoke was incredibly thick... by the time we arrived, the blaze was very intense and spreading all over the ground floor.’
‘How long before you could get it under control?’
‘It would have been fifteen to twenty minutes, with two fire trucks and hoses. It was impossible to gain entry in order to get up the stairs to the children; the girls were eventually brought out, but it was too late.’
Hookam gave a long, deep sigh and sat down in the easy chair again.
‘Can you now tell me who was present on the scene when you were called out to the fire?’
‘Yes, there was a young teenager. He had tried to get into the house... he was hysterical. He had to be held back as his clothes were already burning. He had to be hosed down. Then his — very drunk — father arrived; we thought he would try to calm his son, but instead he began punching and kicking him until he fell down. It was very unpleasant... we had to drag them apart. The father was screaming that his son was to blame. He tried to get into the house and had to be held back as well. He suffered some burns but by this time we had an ambulance there and they were attending to the lad, who was sobbing. I think his father had broken his nose. Then a taxi pulls up with the girls’ mother inside. She was screaming, and when they brought out the bodies she collapsed and had to be taken into the ambulance.’
Jack held up the drawing. ‘Did you know where the son, Rodney, was in the house when the fire started?’
‘I found out later, when he was questioned during the investigation. Apparently, he had been in the front room working on his laptop. He maintained that he had only become alarmed when he smelt smoke. He said he’d tried to go up the stairs, but the heat was too intense, and the fireball started moving down the stairs. Then the fire trucks arrived.’
‘Who called the fire brigade?’
‘A neighbour, I believe.’
‘So, Rodney was downstairs and by the time the smoke had alerted him to the fire, it had already taken hold. He tried to move up the stairs, but they were on fire. Was he wearing headphones?’
Hookam looked perplexed.
‘It’s just that if he was and the girls were screaming, he might not have heard.’
Hookam shook his head. ‘I can’t recall, I’m afraid.’
‘Did you, at any time, think it could have been arson?’ Jack asked.
‘Well... I heard the father accusing the boy, but that could have been the shock at seeing the house ablaze, and because his son was supposed to be taking care of the girls. Mind you, the mother was also telling the police to arrest Rodney, saying that he had set fire to the house. She was in a very hysterical state and had to be sedated. But you know a fatal fire is always thoroughly investigated. Any allegations against the young boy would have been properly evaluated.’
‘So, it was judged to be accidental. But were there any questions about how or why the duvet had been placed over the gas heater?’
‘I believe it was thought that one or other of the girls could have thrown it off their beds because they were hot. It was a very small room, more like a box room.’
Jack stood up and asked if he could keep the drawing. Hookam nodded, and Jack thanked him for his time. Sara shook his hand and walked behind them to the front door. They didn’t see his wife again, but they could hear the dog barking from the kitchen. Brian laughed as he gestured to the small sign on the front door: BEWARE OF THE DOG.
Brian remained standing at his front door as they drove off.
He sighed, remembering that clasped in the eldest daughter’s little charred hand was a doll, the pink plastic face melted into her skin. Sights like that, he knew, never leave you.
Chapter Nine
Jack and Sara did not talk on their way back to the station. Both of them were mulling over what they’d learned during the interviews, and Sara intuitively sensed that Jack did not want to talk.
Eventually Jack spoke. ‘I want you to see what you can find out about Karen... any relatives I can talk to. I think Anthony Middleton said something about being contacted by an aunt?’
‘I’m sorry, but I’m not sure who Karen is?’
‘Middleton’s second wife, who died of a heroin overdose. She was Rodney’s stepmother.’
‘Oh, right, sorry.’
‘I’ll make out a report on today’s interviews, just so that our anally retentive DCI knows what we were doing and where... and I need to grab a bite to eat in the canteen.’
By the time they had parked and gone up to the CID office it was almost two o’clock. Jack decided to miss lunch in order to make out a report, and then go out to talk to Amanda Dunn.
There were a few messages on his desk from Clarke regarding other cases, which Jack had to deal with before he did anything else. Leon came over to his desk, carrying Jack’s laptop. ‘I just spoke to Sara. She said you were planning to visit Amanda Dunn at the hostel this afternoon. I called to make sure she was available and was told that she checked out before lunch.’
‘Shit... did she leave a forwarding address?’
‘No. Mrs Thornton said that they had no reason to hold her there and it was her decision to leave. She thought she might have gone to Liverpool to see her parents.’
‘Go back to Mrs Thornton, see if you can get a phone number for them. If not, call Mrs Delaney, the landlady at Middleton’s basement flat, to see if she’s turned up there.’
‘Yes, sarge. Also, I’ve had no luck in tracing anyone by the name of Sandra Raynor just on her age and description. I added a few years just in case, but can’t find any relevant births or deaths registered in that name. I also checked with the DVLA and there’s no licence in her name. I earmarked some women with that name in the London area, but they don’t fit the description. I’ve listed them here anyway.’
Leon handed Jack a single sheet of typed paper. He glanced down at it. Several were married with children and two were over sixty years old.