After the Fire (28 page)

‘Yeah, she must have been desperate,’ I said, and got a quick, vicious look from Pell that made me as sure as I could be that Melissa had been telling the truth all along.

‘Did you know she was in London?’ Derwent asked.

‘No.’

‘Give me the names of the investigators you used.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I want to know what they told you.’

‘Nothing. Like I said.’

‘I want to read the reports they sent you.’

‘I didn’t keep them.’

‘That’s why I want to talk to the investigators myself.’

Pell breathed out slowly, keeping his anger under control. ‘Fine. I’ll give you their details if you let me look at my phone.’

‘Be my guest.’ Derwent watched him tapping through screens on his iPhone and asked, ‘Where were you on Thursday?’

‘Not setting a tower block on fire.’ A glance at Derwent. ‘Do you really think I’d be that stupid? That reckless?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘My son was in the tower block. Would I risk his life?’

‘People don’t always see the consequences of their actions,’ I said. ‘You might not have known the fire would take hold as it did. Melissa was attacked while she was evacuating the building. That makes us suspicious that she was the arsonist’s target.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Pell said, handing his phone to Derwent to copy down the investigator’s details. ‘It wasn’t me. I know it would be a neat answer for you, but I wasn’t anywhere near London on Thursday.’

‘Where were you?’ I asked.

‘At home.’

‘With anyone?’

‘No. I was alone.’

‘So, no alibi.’

‘I didn’t know I’d need one.’ Pell looked at Derwent. ‘Finished with the phone?’

‘Yeah.’ He gave it back to him with elaborate care. ‘Now get out of here. I don’t want to see you hanging around the hospital. Thomas isn’t here and he isn’t going to be either. And Melissa doesn’t want to see you. So walk away and don’t come back.’

Pell stood for a moment, not moving. ‘Are you going to see her?’

Derwent nodded.

‘Can you give her a message for me?’

‘Depends on what it is,’ Derwent said gruffly.

‘Tell her I love her and Thomas. Tell her I’ll never stop. Tell her I’ll never give up.’ He blinked, hard, nodded at us, and walked away. I waited until he was out of sight.

‘He was wearing a zip-up jacket.’

‘Not black, though.’

‘The stairwell was dark. Debbie could have made a mistake.’

Derwent nodded. ‘But that arsehole wouldn’t do his own dirty work. He’d find someone to do it for him, wouldn’t he?’

‘Risky,’ I observed. ‘If you’re going to break the law, you’re better off doing it yourself. You have a much bigger incentive to hide what you’ve done than a hired goon would. And it’s hard to find a decent goon when you want one.’

‘Yeah. Worth seeing if we get any ANPR hits off cars registered in Pell’s name. I’ll tell Pettifer.’

‘A wasted trip to Lincolnshire.’ I shook my head. ‘Pettifer’s not going to be on his side any more.’

‘If only Pell knew. He’d be shaking in his shoes.’

‘Are you going to pass Pell’s message on?’ I asked, curious.

‘I’ve forgotten it, I’m afraid.’ Derwent’s eyes were wide with innocence. ‘Do you remember what he said?’

‘Not a word,’ I lied.

MELISSA PELL WAS
looking a lot better than she had been the last time I’d seen her. Her face was still a rainbow of bruising but a day had given the swelling time to go down, and her delicate prettiness had reasserted itself. She was dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, and was sitting in the armchair by her hospital bed, watching her son. Thomas was playing under the bed with some cars, humming engine noises and talking to himself. Melissa’s mother sat on the window sill, looking like her daughter in thirty years’ time, albeit with an uncompromising haircut. Her expression was worried, and when we walked in through the open door she jumped, putting a hand to her throat.

‘You scared me.’

‘Sorry.’ Derwent looked across to Melissa, who was sitting very straight in her chair, her eyes wary, and it was to her that he said, ‘I didn’t mean to alarm you.’

‘I gather I have you to thank for giving Thomas and Mum somewhere to stay.’ Her voice was brittle.

‘Don’t mention it.’ He smiled. ‘Really, don’t mention it. I don’t think my boss would approve.’

‘It’s very kind of you.’

Derwent brushed that remark away like a fly. ‘Mrs Pell—’

She held up a hand to stop him. ‘Melissa.’

‘Melissa,’ he repeated. ‘It’s good to see you up and about. Are you feeling better?’

‘Much.’ She smiled at us. ‘Getting back to normal.’

‘I’m glad,’ Derwent said soberly. He tapped the end of the bed with one hand and I could tell he was miserable, that he didn’t want to be in the room, that he certainly didn’t want to have to say the sentence that was about to come out of his mouth. ‘I’m sorry, but I need to tell you that I’ve just had occasion to deal with your husband.’

‘Mark? Deal with him? What do you mean?’

‘I spoke to him outside the ward.’

It took her a second to get there. ‘You mean he was here? In the hospital?’

Derwent nodded.

She stood up, panicked. ‘I have to go. I have to get out of here.’

‘You’re not well enough,’ her mother said, also standing up. She put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘Please, Melissa. Don’t upset yourself.’

‘You don’t understand, Mum. We can’t stay here.’

‘No, wait. It’s all right.’ I went over to her and put my arm around her, taking over because Derwent was apparently rooted to the ground. It made me wonder if I was wrong to think he was attracted to Melissa. His usual technique was all about getting into women’s personal space, making eye contact if not physical contact with them. I would have expected him to exploit her fear with ruthless efficiency. But his expression was as closed off and severe as it had been the previous time I’d seen him with Melissa, and he didn’t attempt to comfort her. Maybe he’d been telling the truth when he swore his interest in her was purely professional.

Melissa was actually shaking with terror. I tried to reassure her. ‘We made it clear to him that he’s not welcome here. He shouldn’t be back. We saw him after he’d tried to get into the ward and the policeman on duty didn’t let him in, so you were safe then and you’re even safer now.’

We had spoken to the constable on our way past to reinforce the message. It was the one I had told off before, and he had been genuinely delighted he’d got it right.

‘He said he was her husband but I told him he wasn’t on the list.’

‘The only list he’s on is my shit list,’ Derwent had said, and bounded through the door in a good mood that had mysteriously evaporated the second he got into Melissa Pell’s hospital room. There was no hint of it in his face now.

‘You’re safe while you’re here, but I don’t want you leaving the ward.’ He dropped his voice. ‘And I know this is difficult but I don’t think Thomas should be here. Mr Pell was hoping to see him and I imagine you don’t want that to happen.’

She nodded, her eyes big and shadowy with fear, but she sat down again. ‘I don’t want Mark anywhere near him.’

‘I’ll take him and your mum back to my place in a bit.’

‘What if Mark follows you?’

Derwent smiled. ‘He won’t. And if he does, I’ll lose him. I know a few tricks.’

He usually drove as if he was trying to lose a tail, but I wasn’t going to tell Melissa Pell that.

‘You should be out of here soon, anyway,’ I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed near her. ‘You look so much better.’

‘I think they’re going to release me tomorrow. The doctor said he wanted to keep me in one more night. We’ll have to find somewhere safe to go.’ Melissa looked at her mother and bit her lip. ‘I can’t think.’

‘There’s no hurry,’ Derwent said. ‘Stay at my place for as long as you need to. He’ll never find you there.’

‘But you can’t just move out.’

‘Don’t worry about me. I have somewhere to stay for as long as I like.’

Which was, presumably, my flat. I twisted around to raise my eyebrows at him and got a cool look in return. I suppressed a groan and turned back. ‘Melissa, can I just ask if you’ve managed to remember anything else from the other day? Before or after the fire?’

She shook her head.

‘Nothing more about being attacked?’

‘No.’

‘I’ve been taking a look at the crime scene and it looks as if someone pushed you against the wall on the eighth floor.’

‘How do you know?’

‘There was blood on the wall.’ I was acutely aware of Thomas, who was sitting under the bed having a conversation with a toy car. He didn’t seem to be listening, but I couldn’t tell and I didn’t want to upset him. I chose my words carefully. ‘And then there was a pool of dried vomit in the eighth-floor hallway.’

She nodded, slowly. ‘The nurses said my clothes were covered in sick when I came in. That’s why I’m wearing these lovely things.’

‘I’m sorry. I thought they were the right sort of thing given that you’re in hospital.’ Mrs Moore sounded deeply hurt. ‘I didn’t realise I’d got it wrong.’

‘They are, Mum. They’re fine. I wasn’t complaining. They’re much better than a hospital gown,’ Melissa said quickly. She tried to smile. ‘They’re all I’ve got, anyway.’

‘I’ve asked one of our forensic officers to go over that scene to see if we can find any clue as to who attacked you,’ I said. ‘In the meantime, try not to worry. Just concentrate on getting better.’

Behind me, there was a thud. I whipped around to see Derwent had dropped to one knee, his face twisted in agony. He was holding his chest and groaning. Slowly – infinitely slowly – he slid sideways until he was lying on the floor.

Under the bed, there was a gurgle of pure joy. A small hand appeared clutching a plastic gun. ‘Peeoo. Peeoo.’

Derwent’s body jerked twice as imaginary bullets hit him. ‘Aaaah … I – I’m going … Goodbye, world …’

‘Oh, Thomas,’ Melissa began, but she was starting to smile.

‘No.’ Derwent tilted his head back so he could look at her upside down. ‘He got me. Fair and square. I’m a goner.’ Then, ‘But I’m not finished yet.’ He pointed an imaginary gun at Thomas. ‘Hands up, kid. I’ll take you down if it’s the last thing I do.’

Thomas’s response was more muffled giggling and some more shooting. Derwent dropped his weapon, let his head fall back and died for the next ninety seconds, gasping and groaning and rolling around in fake pain. Thomas came out from under the bed to watch, jumping up and down with pure glee as Derwent got as far as agonal breathing and a fine attempt at a death rattle before he gave up the battle.

Melissa and her mother applauded and I couldn’t help grinning. Thomas went over to him and jumped on his chest. ‘Wake
up
.’

This time there was nothing fake about the noise of pain Derwent made. ‘God, Thomas, what do you weigh?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘It’s like having an elephant on my chest.’

‘No!’

‘Okay, not an elephant. That would be ridiculous. A baby elephant.’ He tickled Thomas briefly, which made the boy scream with joy, then moved him onto the floor and stood up, dusting himself off.

‘Time to go, I’m afraid.’ He had gone back to the brooding reserve, as if the other version of Derwent – the playful, loving one I’d never seen before – had been a collective hallucination.

‘Come and kiss me goodbye,’ Melissa said to Thomas, and he ran into her arms, scrambling up into her lap. She held on to him tightly and I felt very strongly that I was intruding. I got up and moved to the door, where Mrs Moore was checking through her handbag in a worried way. Derwent stood waiting, and when Thomas slid down he put out a hand, which the boy took. He nodded to Melissa Pell.

‘Remember, no wandering around the hospital. If you need to leave the ward, take the police officer who is outside the door with you.’

‘Okay.’ Her voice was faint and I knew she was holding on to tears that she didn’t want to shed in front of her son.

‘It’ll be all right,’ Derwent said. ‘I promise.’

She nodded blindly, turning her head away, and the four of us walked into the hall, leaving her alone.

As soon as we were outside the door, Mrs Moore stopped and leaned against the wall.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked, afraid that she was ill.

‘I want to talk to you.’ She looked down at Thomas. ‘Not in front of – you know.’

Derwent nodded and started towards the lift, towing Thomas. The little boy was chatting away to him about his cars, oblivious to any tension. Mrs Moore waited until they were out of range.

‘I wanted to ask about Mark. You saw him. How did he look?’

It was a strange question in the circumstances and I struggled to answer it. ‘I – I don’t know. Normal? I’ve never seen him before.’

‘Did he seem upset? Angry?’

‘Yes. Both.’ In all fairness, I had to add, ‘But anyone would have been. DI Derwent pinned him up against a wall.’

‘
Poor
Mark.’ It burst out of her. She looked up at me, guilty. ‘I know it sounds strange to say that. But I liked him and I can’t help feeling sorry for him.’

‘Even though Melissa says he hurt her?’

‘Oh, of course all of that is
awful
. I was devastated when she left without saying where she was going. It made me realise she had to be absolutely desperate. I wish I’d believed her when she told me about Mark, I really do. I could have helped her.’ She pressed her fingertips to her lips as if she was trying to hold the next thought in, but it fought its way out. ‘Even now I can’t quite imagine it. The things she said he did. He’s so
nice
.’

‘Abusers can be. They can be very charming.’ I wasn’t getting through to her. ‘Those are the most dangerous of all. They’re good at manipulating people, and they don’t like to lose.’

‘But Mark, of all people. He was such a good husband and father. It seems cruel not to let him see his son. His only child. If someone had taken Melissa away from me when she was three, I would have killed with my bare hands to get her back. I almost feel it’s justifiable for him to be angry with her.’