Liar Liar

56

‘Simon Duggan wouldn’t have the brains for it. You can definitely rule him out.’

‘How certain are you?’ Helen responded. They had already ruled out three possibles – Duggan was the fourth that seemed to be going the same way – and they were fast running out of options.

‘Look, I know he fits the profile. Bit of a loner, lives at home with his mum and so forth, but he’s a follower. He wouldn’t go to the toilet without someone’s permission. He doesn’t have the nerve or intelligence to pull off something on this scale, nor does he have the anger. He’s a simple soul.’

‘Ok, what about Martin Hughes?’ Helen replied, trying to keep the strain out of her voice.

For the first time, Deborah paused. She rolled this possibility round her brain a few times, then said:

‘Better, but still not right.’

‘How so?’

‘He’s quick to anger and has fallen out with pretty much everyone at one time or another. It’s cost him career-wise, no question, younger guys have progressed faster than he has, he’s divorced…’

‘All of which fits the profile,’ Helen said.

‘But he’s not a young man -’

‘Profiles are just guides, they’re not blueprints.’

‘And he loves his family. They may have split up, but he still loves his ex to bits and dotes on his son. He’s a fuck-up for sure, but his temper blows out as quickly as it comes and the rest of the time he’s a pretty sound bloke. I’m sorry, Helen, but I just can’t see it.’

‘Which leaves Richard Ford,’ Helen replied, more in hope than expectation. But this time, there was genuine hesitation from Deborah. Prior to this, she’d been assertive, confident even, knocking back Helen’s suspicions about her colleagues. But now she seemed troubled.

‘Talk to me, Deborah. What’s he like?’

‘I don’t really know him that well…’ she answered.

‘But what you do know gives you doubts?’ Helen asked. She didn’t want to lead Deborah to any conclusions, but she had something for her here – Helen was sure of it.

‘Yes,’ she eventually said. ‘He’s one of those guys that as a woman you just steer clear of. Something about the way he looks at you. Like you’re some sort of foreign species.’

‘Does he have friends?’

‘Not within the team. He avoids crowds, pubs, that kind of thing. He doesn’t take part in all the usual macho posturing you get from fire guys, he doesn’t really take part in anything at work, except… work.’

‘How long’s he been working for the Fire and Rescue service?’

‘Since leaving school, I think.’

‘Does he have a tattoo – with the Hants Fire crest?’

‘Sure – a lot of the guys do.’

‘Is he a hard worker?’

‘Very. Happy to come in on his days off to help out. I don’t think he has a girlfriend.’

‘Boyfriend?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘What about family?’

‘He’s never mentioned anyone. He’s a loner. New guys try to engage with him, then give up after a while. That’s the way he wants it, so…’

‘And if he’s so diligent and experienced, why is he still at a relatively junior rank?’

‘Can’t do the exams. He’s great on all the practical stuff, but the theory, the homework… And as for his interview technique…’

‘Has he been passed over for promotion?’

Another moment of hesitation, then:

‘Yes. He failed his fire sergeant’s interview for the third time recently. Which means… that he can’t apply again.’

Helen tried to suppress the excitement growing within her, as she asked the next question.

‘And when was this?’

All Deborah’s confidence – her resistance – seemed to have deserted now as she replied.

‘A month ago.’

Helen marched away from the café, her phone clamped to her ear. As soon as Sanderson answered, she launched in without introduction.

‘We need to check out Richard Ford. Who was doing the initial chat with him?’

There was the briefest intake of breath from Sanderson, before she replied.

‘Charlie. She’s with him right now.’