Liar Liar

62

‘Drop whatever you’re doing and listen to this.’

Emilia Garanita had a flair for the dramatic and enjoyed bossing people around, but she seldom got the chance these days. The roll call of crime in Southampton usually extended from shoplifting in Tesco’s through drunk-driving offences to a bit of Class B possession – hardly the stuff of banner headlines. But today was different. She wouldn’t normally talk to her editor in this way, but she was on the cusp of a big one here and felt some of her old confidence returning.

She had arrived at the address in Midanbury fifteen minutes after the squad cars. Flashing her press card, she immediately sought out PC Alan Stark, her favourite mole in Hants Police. He was a young man with a fairly serious gambling problem and always welcomed the extra funds Emilia provided. Checking they weren’t overlooked, Emilia had crushed three £50 notes into his hand and as he pocketed them, quizzed him for the details. As he’d relayed his info to her, Emilia had spotted a young man being led from the house in cuffs. From her discreet vantage point, Emilia had fired off a series of headshots with her Nikon SLR – and was pretty pleased with the results.

‘For God’s sake, Emilia, I’ve promised you the centre spread for your Simms piece! Could you please stop chewing my balls for one minute -’ her beleaguered editor replied. He had given up punishing her for her previous disloyalty some time back and Emilia sensed he now regretted it, as it allowed her to harangue him night and day, pushing for more, more, more.

‘Forget that,’ Emilia interrupted. ‘This is better.’

‘Go on.’

‘I’m currently watching Hampshire’s finest drag a young man from his house in cuffs. According to my source, police think he’s our serial arsonist.’

Silence on the other end, but she could hear him breathing. There was nothing better than having your editor hanging on your every word.

‘Better still, he’s a firefighter. His name is Richard Ford and he’s been with Hants Fire and Rescue Service for most of his life. Bit of a fire nut apparently, but that’s as much as I know. I need people to get on to his colleagues, family, ex-girlfriends, plus I need a bio for him. I’m going to stay at the house and see what I can glean.’

It was the editor’s call as to how he deployed his reporters. They only numbered a handful and most were more used to covering school fetes and Council meetings – Emilia was their only full-time crime reporter. But Emilia knew Gary Rowlands loved the big stories – it reminded him of the good old days when he was a proper editor at Wapping – and she was sure he would throw the scant resources they had at this one. Stories like this didn’t come around very often.

‘I’m going to go big on the hero turned villain, firefighter who became a firestarter, so anything in his private life that might explain this, any past offences, would be really useful as context,’ Emilia continued, slipping under the police cordon and scurrying towards the house. Stark had turned a convenient blind eye and Emilia was keen to get a few shots of the interior before she was discovered.

‘I’m going to have to go now, but let me know how you get on.’

‘As I have it. Stay in touch, ok? No going AWOL on me.’

‘Absolutely, boss. Oh and one last thing…’ Emilia teased, a smile breaking out over her face.

‘Hold the front page for me, will you?’