The Circle

'We'll need warrants for all that, guv.'

'Sod that. They owe us their cooperation. If they refuse, we know who to focus on, and they'll be aware of that. Get the team working on it pronto, will you, before the press start badgering them.'

'The entire circle?'

'The whole boiling lot of them. Even the ones we think are in the clear. This is an inside job, Stell. We've met the killer, so we're ahead of the game. We don't know why the bugger is doing this, but we've got to nick him before he does another.'

'Him, guv? You said "him".'

'I take it back. Him or her. While you attend to that, I'm calling a press conference. They'll be screaming for a statement and they can have one, so at least I'll know they're sitting in front of me while you guys are doing the business.'

She was right about the media interest. She called the conference for ten thirty and it was standing room only. Some of the nationals — papers, TV and radio — were represented. From this point on, the pressure would be intense.

She was good at this and she handled their probing without once losing her grip. The questions were predictable, fishing for the quote that she refused to give, the admission that she was at a loss. On the contrary, she told them, a number of promising leads were being followed up.

Then she did four television interviews. As if that wasn't enough, she was summoned immediately after by the assistant chief constable and asked — in a roundabout way — if she was up to it. This time she did snap back. She told him she knew what was being hinted at and, no, she didn't need the Regional Crime Squad muscling in, and what was more she took it as insulting that it was even being considered. Her clear-up rate was second to none in West Sussex and she looked to her superiors for support in the shape of a generous overtime budget.

He huffed and muttered things about headquarters, and Hen came out knowing she was on limited time, but she knew that already.

She drove to the mortuary for a look at the body, a necessary duty, however distasteful. Fire is a great concealer. The possibility always had to be kept open that injuries had been inflicted first.

Just before the sheet was drawn back she reminded herself that the likely cause of Jessie Warmington-Smith's death was smoke inhalation. She would not have felt the flames. Horrific as the flesh injuries were, they were postmortem burns.

Standing beside the body she reflected on the irony that the killer is never forced to view his victim on a mortuary slab, as the investigator must. You would need to be callous indeed not to be affected by the spectacle of the fire-damaged corpse in those clinical surroundings. The nearest a murdering arsonist comes to the consequence of his crime is a glance at the photographs in court.

She saw enough to confirm Jessie's identity, then went in search of fresh air and a smoke.

In theory it was lunchtime, but she wouldn't be able to face food for a long while. She called the team to the incident room for a briefing and began by sharing the sparse information she had. The fire fitted the pattern of the others. It had started in the front hallway, by the door. There were no signs of a break-in, so concealing a theft wasn't the reason for the fire, as is sometimes the case. The victim had died in bed, probably from smoke inhalation. The fire chief was suggesting a likely time of origin between four and five in the morning. No witnesses had yet been traced, for all the door-to-door enquiries.

'So run it past me,' she told her team. 'What did you discover?'

Silence. No one wanted to go first.

Then Stella said, 'Do you want a summary from me, guv? There are ten surviving members of the circle and we've talked to nine of them this morning. The odd one out is Bob Naylor, and he left home early for work. He's a Parcel Force driver and he's on a long-haul job to Bristol. We've made contact and I'm seeing him tonight. Of the others, we had good cooperation from everyone.'

'But nothing helpful?'

'I didn't say that'

'Get to it, then,' Hen said. 'Who are you talking about?'

'Naomi Green admits she went out during the night, she thinks at about three a.m.'

An avalanche of new possibilities crashed into Hen's brain. 'What on earth for?'

Stella turned to Andy Humphreys. "You'd better explain.'

He pulled out his notes. 'I interviewed them both — the Greens, I mean. They'd heard about the fire on local radio, so it didn't come as a surprise to them. I spoke to Naomi first and she was very straightforward in her answers.'

'Was Basil present?'

'No, guv. He went out to do something in the garden.'

Johnny Cherry said, 'Like disposing of an empty petrol can?'

Typical bloody Johnny.

Hen said without even a glance in his direction, 'Andy, tell us what Naomi had to say to you.'

'The first time round she didn't admit to anything. She claimed she was working at her computer, entering stuff on her website until well after midnight. She keeps late hours apparently'

'Website?'

'It's some kind of diary she and Zach are writing.'

'An insider's view. We know.'

'Only Zach isn't pulling his weight, so it's all down to her, she says.'

Johnny said, 'He's shagging Sharon instead.'

'Shut up, Johnny. Naomi was working till late, you said?'

'Basil went off to bed about one a.m. and she went — I'm quoting her — "some time after". They don't sleep together.'

'Yes, we established that before. She didn't say precisely when she got to bed? You asked, I take it?'

'She wasn't sure. Didn't check the time.'

'Unlikely, but go on. Did you look at her hands, shoes and so on?'

'She showed me them without any fuss. I thought I was doing well, getting so much cooperation out of her. I didn't pick up any petrol smell. At that stage she had the all clear as far as I was concerned. Then I interviewed Basil.'

'Alone?'

He nodded. 'Naomi went off to do some more writing. Basil confirmed he got to bed around one, like Naomi said, while she was still using the computer.'

'And?'

'I asked him if he would have heard Naomi going to bed and he said no.' Humphreys put in a personal observation. 'They're a funny couple. If they were in this together they could give each other alibis easily.'

'But they don't,' Hen said, 'so we assume they aren't.'

'Then he added something that really dropped her in it. He said he heard the front door go when she went out. He said this in a matter-of-fact way as if we both knew all about it. I said, "She went out?" And he said, "Yes, doing research." I asked what time it was and he said it must have been between two and three. He said he knew she was going because she'd told him not to lock up.'

'Did he hear her come in?'

'No, he fell asleep. This morning they both got up late.'

'I'm not surprised. So you spoke to Naomi again?'

'I did, and she didn't turn a hair when I said she'd not told me the whole truth. She said she hadn't lied. She just didn't think it was important.'

'Oh, that old applesauce. Did you ask what she was up to?'

'She said she was' — Humphreys quoted from his notes — '"getting a sense of what it must be like on the streets at night". She's trying to get into the mind of the arsonist, she says. I said she'd better come up with something better than that and she turned quite stroppy. She said I was incapable of understanding how a serious writer worked and a lot of stuff like that.'

'So how did you handle it?'

'I asked where she went and what sort of research she did.'

'Good.'

'She took the van and drove into town and parked in North Street in one of those spaces at the top end.'