Liar Liar

127

‘Can I just double-check these timings? So there’s no mistake in your statement?’

Helen was back in the interview suite, flanked by Charlie, who had just arrived back from St Mary’s. Helen had asked her to sit in, tasking Sanderson with chasing down the mysterious ‘firstpersonsingular’. It was a slight break in the chain of command, but Helen wanted Charlie’s input and, besides, it felt good to have her old friend back at her side as the case reached its climax.

‘So on Wednesday night, you left the Green Man around eleven-ish and made your way home?’

Naomie looked tired and wrung out, the product of a sleepless night in the cells. Part of Helen was pleased – it’s harder to keep your guard up when you’re exhausted.

‘More or less.’

‘I’m going to have to press you, Naomie. You left the pub around eleven, walked to Denise Roberts’s house and then what?’

‘I set the fire, like I said.’

‘So that would have been around eleven fifteen p.m.?’

‘Right.’

‘Wrong. Because you were in the Green Man with your friends,’ Helen replied, all the warmth suddenly evaporating from her tone.

Naomie’s brief shot a concerned look in her direction, but Charlie leapt in before she could intervene.

‘I’ve spoken to Danielle this morning. I’ve seen the photos, placing you there until gone midnight. We’ve also had a little look at your movements on Friday – the day Mandy Blayne’s house was targeted. The movement of your mobile signal suggests you didn’t go near St Denys.’

Charlie could see Naomie was about to kick back, so carried on quickly:

‘That doesn’t prove anything of course. You might have lost your phone or had it stolen. However, we have tallied your mobile movements with street cameras and guess what – they match.’

‘I’m now showing the suspect some CCTV stills time-coded to the hours between two and four p.m. on Friday,’ Helen said, taking over. ‘Your face can be clearly seen in a couple of them, in spite of your cap. I take it you’re not going to deny that it’s you?’

Helen pushed the stills across the table towards Naomie and her brief, but the former refused to look at them. She looked ashen.

‘Look at them,’ Helen barked, her voice suddenly harsh. ‘Are you going to deny that’s you?’

Naomie glanced anxiously at her brief, but received nothing in return – it clearly was her in the photos. Now Naomie’s eyes started to fill. Helen could see that the young girl was panicking, clearly torn as to what to do next. Helen cursed herself for ever having believed this scared, downtrodden teenager was the mastermind behind the arson attacks.

‘I know this is not what you wanted, not how you hoped things would pan out, but believe me this is good news, Naomie. There’s a simple reason you can’t provide any clear motive for the fires at the Simms and Harris households – because they weren’t your victims. Your accomplice wanted to hurt them, while you wanted to get at Denise Roberts and Mandy Blayne. Credit to you both, you played it smartly. You set the first and third fires, your accomplice the second and fourth. You had no personal connection to the victims you actually targeted making it virtually impossible that you’d be identified as a suspect.’

Helen let her words hang in the air. The brief looked shocked, whereas Naomie just looked beaten.

‘Now I know you’re a capable girl,’ Helen continued. ‘But an elaborate scheme like this, well it doesn’t feel very you, does it? You’ve been hurt, neglected and belittled more than any girl should be and you’re angry with your dad, your mum, with the world. But ultimately you just want your family back together, don’t you? You don’t want to burn this town down, do you?’

Naomie just stared at her through tear-filled eyes, but didn’t commit either way.

‘All that planning, the endless scouting, the diversionary fires, was that really your idea?’

Helen could tell Naomie had to think for a moment to work out what diversionary meant and in that instant she knew she had her answer.

‘And the idea of putting yourself forward, to sell us the big lie about seeing a guy with a Fire and Rescue tattoo? You came up with that, did you?

Naomie faltered, then replied:

‘Sure. Like I said -’

‘I’m going to discount what you’ve told me so far, as you have already lied to me on tape on a number of occasions, but there is something I’d like you to tell me the truth about. Who is firstpersonsingular?’

Naomie’s reaction was hard to miss. She looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the till – initial astonishment morphing into a desire to disengage, to retreat. She picked hard at the scar on her hand, wanting to be anywhere but locked in a room with her accusers.

‘We know you’re close,’ Charlie went on, more softly. ‘That you feel loyalty to this person, that perhaps they even control you a little bit. But it’s our view that this person is principally responsible for these fires, so it would be in your best interests to tell us who they are.’

Naomie shook her head vigorously but refused to look up at them. Helen felt a strange mixture of sympathy and contempt as she looked at the shambolic teenage girl who still clung to the person – to the ‘project’ – that made her feel special.

‘We will find out, Naomie. Make no bones about that,’ Helen said. ‘And this is your one chance to help us bring this to an end. It could make all the difference when this goes to trial.’

Now Naomie did look up and Helen caught the fear in her eyes.

‘You’ve nothing to fear. If you need protection we can arrange that. And you don’t need to go back to your old life, once you’ve done your time. We can set you up somewhere new – new name, new place, new future. But only if you help us now. Who is firstpersonsingular?’

‘I won’t help you,’ Naomie said suddenly, before receding into herself once more.

‘Then I’m calling time on this interview. I’ve done all I can and I would urge your lawyer to use the break to talk some sense into you. Cooperation is your only option.’

‘I’ll never give him up to the likes of you,’ Naomie spat back bitterly.

‘So firstpersonsingular is a “he”?’ Helen returned quickly. ‘Well that’s a start, I suppose.’

The blood drained from Naomie’s face, as she felt the guilt of her first betrayal.

‘We will find out his name, Naomie. It’s only a matter of time. So now you have to ask yourself if you’re brave enough to speak up or whether you want to spend the rest of your days behind bars for something that wasn’t your fault.’

And with that Helen left, Charlie following close behind.