A Rush of Blood

Thirty-nine

‘Poacher’s Close must be about as secluded as Edinburgh gets,’

Mario McGuire remarked, as Skinner approached the right turn that led into the cul-de-sac. ‘No through traffic, big plots, only four houses in the whole street; you won’t be right on top of your neighbours here, unlike most of the rest of the city.’

‘There can be too much seclusion, mate,’ the chief replied. He turned into the roadway, and drew to a halt, switching off both engine and lights. ‘It’s built into most people’s psyche. Look at you and Paula; you live in that nice big duplex of yours, you’ve got neighbours next door, and below you, all the way down to street level. These people live literally under the same roof as you, but how many of them do you know?’

‘We know Paul and Edith Applecross, the folk next door, well enough.’

‘Oh yes? Do you ever invite them in for supper, or for a drink even?’

‘Well, no, but. .’

‘Do you know what her maiden name was? Or how long they’ve been married?’

‘No. .’

‘How about the floors below? There’s what, seven of them, four flats on each, twenty-eight households, yes? How many of them would you say you know? Not intimately, just to say “hello” to.’

‘Hardly any,’ Mario admitted. ‘But we never see them, unless we meet them in the lift.’

‘No, you don’t, do you? Man, for all you know, half a dozen of those flats could be rented out to Vietnamese gangs, and used for growing marijuana under hydroponic lights.’

‘Christ, I hope not!’

‘Me too,’ he chuckled, ‘but that’s what seclusion is. It’s a state of mind rather than a question of location. That said, when Sarah and I lived in that house near to Fettes, I couldn’t stand the fucking place. The neighbours were jammed right up against us, and they were nosey bastards. It took us no time to move back out to Gullane. . at least it took me no time; I never really asked her.’

‘How is Sarah, by the way?’

‘Single again; she had a boyfriend, but she chucked him. Too bad; Mark and James Andrew liked him. He used to take them to baseball games. My boys have been in the New Yankee Stadium, and it’s only been open for a year.’

‘Another guy taking your boys out on trips? That didn’t give you any problems?’

‘Why should it? If anyone had a problem, it was Sarah, although God knows why.’

‘She’s still happy in New York, though?’

‘Yes, she’s fine. She’s being a proper doctor again, and that’s what she wanted. But enough of that; she’s enjoying her job now, just as I’m going to enjoy this.’ He reached for the handle and was on the point of opening the door, when a fire appliance swung round the corner, missing his car by a matter of inches. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he roared. ‘A few second later. . I’ll ram that driver’s helmet up his arse!’

‘I may assist,’ said McGuire ‘but where are they headed?’ As he spoke, the tender turned into a driveway at the road’s end, to the right. The street lighting was poor, but good enough to let him read the names on signs at the entrances to the two nearest properties, and neither was ‘Vilnius’.

Simultaneously they leapt out of the car, and began to run. They had gone only a few yards when a second tender roared past them.

‘They’re going to Gerulaitis’s place right enough,’ Skinner shouted. He led the way into the driveway, past the sign that bore the name of the Lithuanian capital city. The crew of the second vehicle was deploying as they reached them. ‘Where’s the fire?’ the chief asked, as two firemen ran past him carrying hose ends, looking, he guessed, for the nearest hydrants. If either heard him, he was ignored.

The Gerulaitis home was a large bungalow, with bay windows on either side of the entrance door and dormers above. None showed any sign of fire. ‘What’s happening?’ the slower-moving McGuire exclaimed, as he caught up.

‘Plenty, given the speed of those guys with the hoses. Whatever it is, it’s round the back.’ As he spoke, there was an explosion, mixed with the sound of breaking glass. In the same moment, a red halo seemed to surround the house, framing the lines of its roof.

‘What do we do?’

‘You stay here. Act as if you’re back in uniform; don’t let any neighbours in and, just as important, don’t let anybody leave the scene.’

He headed round the side of the house, following the last firefighter, just as a third tender arrived, drawing up in the entrance to the driveway. The back garden was fenced off, but there was a gate, which lay open. He stepped through it, feeling a blast of heat as he did, and saw organisation emerging out of chaos. There was a rectangular conservatory built on to the rear of the bungalow, covering most of its width. It was ablaze and its windows had blown out. As he watched, the fire crew split into teams. Two more hydrants must have been found on the other side of the garden wall, for four hoses were concentrated on the blaze, while other fighters, with axes, hacked the remaining glass from the shattered window frames, making a safe passage for their colleagues to advance into the fire.

‘Hey, you!’ It took a few seconds for Skinner to realise that the cry was directed at him. ‘Will you please get to hell out of here,’ a whitehelmeted man yelled as he walked towards him.

He shook his head, and reached into his jacket for his warrant card. ‘Sorry,’ he shouted back, above the roar of the flames and the rushing sound of the high-pressure jets, ‘I have an interest here; I’m a police officer.’

‘I don’t care if you’re the fucking chief constable,’ the man retorted.

‘As it happens I am the fucking chief constable.’ He brandished the card. ‘See? Now back off, for I’m going nowhere. I’ll keep out of your way, don’t worry,’ he glanced at a name on the man’s protective clothing, ‘Assistant Divisional Officer Hartil.’

‘This is a volatile area, sir,’ the ADO persisted. ‘I can’t put you at risk.’

‘You’re not putting me at risk: I am. Look, I’ll stand as far away as I can, but I want to see what’s happening.’ He walked across to the furthest corner of the garden, beside an ornamental pond. Its surface was frozen; at first the firelight seemed to dance crazily on the ice, but as he watched, it began to fade, as the fire and rescue teams edged their way into the seat of the blaze, bringing it under control. In less than ten minutes the fire that he could see was quenched, although he could still hear the hoses playing indoors, the scene illuminated by lamps that the crew of the third tender had set up on stands on the grass.

After a further five minutes, ADO Hartil emerged from the partly ruined building and came towards him. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘Under control; my boys and girls are just damping down now, and making sure there’s no risk of outbreak anywhere else in the place.’

‘Who called you?’ Skinner asked.

‘The place has a monitored alarm system, fire as well as intruder. Usual routine; they phone the householder first, then if he doesn’t reply, the keyholder and us.’

‘Which means that the place was empty?’

‘Usually that would be the case. Unfortunately, not this time. Did you say that you have an interest in the people who live here?’

‘In the husband, yes. My colleague and I came here to arrest him.’

‘Did he and his wife live here alone, or were there other occupants?’

‘My understanding is they have no kids. That’s all I can say. I’ve never met him, but my understanding is that he was around six feet tall, dark-haired. Wife, smaller, dumpy; both in their mid-forties.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not going to help us identify what’s in there, either of them.’

‘Shit. They’re both dead?’

‘Very. You want to see?’

‘No, but I’ll have to.’

‘Hold on then, till I get you some boots from our appliance.’

‘Make that two sets, please, and ask my colleague to join us. He’s round the front.’

He waited by the pond, gazing at the house. On impulse, he took out his mobile, and pressed the last number he had called. ‘Pops,’ his daughter answered quickly. ‘Do you have him in custody?’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘that wasn’t possible. I’m at his house, though; there’s been a fire.’

‘My God! Bad?’

‘Don’t look for him to be in the office tomorrow.’

‘You mean he’s been injured?’

‘Injured to a crisp, from what the fire chief’s been saying. I’ll give you the full story later. I have to go now.’

He ended the call as Hartil approached, with Mario McGuire, and two pairs of thigh-length waders. The police officers struggled into them, leaving their shoes behind on the edge of the pond, then followed the ADO towards the wrecked house.

The paused at the entrance to the conservatory; it had been reduced to a bizarre, windowless skeleton, with its UPVC frame buckled by the heat, and in part collapsed. ‘Everything in here was lost,’ said Hartil. ‘All this garden furniture’s supposed to be fire retardant now, but no fucking way was this lot. It went up like kindling, once the fire burned or blasted its way through from the big dining kitchen inside. That’s where we think it started. The householders seem to have been trapped in there.’ He shone a torch on a double-width doorway. Only the frame was left, and behind it, on the floor, they saw two forms, blackened, buckled, but still recognisably human. Skinner looked at them, and shuddered. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound emerged.

The firefighter allowed the chief time to compose himself. ‘Obviously,’ he continued, when he judged he was ready, ‘it’s too early to say for sure, but it looks as if they were caught between the advance of the fire and here. This must have been their only escape route, but it must have been locked. Poor bastards were trapped; their best hope was that the smoke got them before the flames reached them. Usually that’s what happens in a house fire, but not always.’

‘I don’t suppose you have any idea yet how it started?’ Skinner whispered.

‘No, it’s way too early even to take a guess. It’s down to our investigators to work that out.’

‘I’d like our people to be involved.’

‘Of course. Are you saying you suspect this might be arson, sir?’

‘In this investigation, Mr Hartil, I’m ruling absolutely nothing in and nothing out. What state’s the rest of the house in?’

‘Not as bad as it might have been. The fire travelled up the way as well, obviously, but we contained it before it compromised the structure of the building.’

‘That’s good. I want this place secured, and I’d like your people to mop up as best they can. Tomorrow morning, your forensic people and mine are going to be going through this with the finest toothed comb they’ve got.’