Scared to Live

15

Wednesday, 26 October

It was Jimi Hendrix. When Cooper saw the can of Swan lighter fluid next morning, he knew immediately where he’d seen one before. It featured in one of those classic rock posters. Hendrix setting fire to his white Stratocaster at the Monterey Pop Festival.

Could it have been 1967? Somewhere around that time. The legend said that Hendrix felt upstaged by The Who, because the British group had ended their set by smashing their equipment. During his own last number, the guitarist had grinned at the audience, squirted lighter fuel on his guitar and struck a match, playing the final notes through the flames. It was one of the seminal moments in the history of rock music. Mad, and dangerous.

‘You can buy the hundred millilitre can for about three pounds, but it isn’t stocked everywhere,’ said Fry, when he’d examined the can.

‘That gives us a chance of tracing the shop it was bought from, then.’

‘Yes, it would do, if we had the manpower.’

In the poster Cooper remembered seeing on a friend’s bedroom wall, the can had been clearly visible in the guitarist’s hands. It was just like this one — square-sided and yellow, the same colour as Hendrix’s frilly shirt.

‘Anyway, we’ve got an initial report faxed through from Downie’s people at the FSS lab this morning.’ The neutral tone of Fry’s voice didn’t give away whether it was good news or bad news.

‘What does it say?’

‘I’ll read it for you: “The laboratory received two evidence containers of debris taken from the suspected seat of a fire. A head space sample from each container was subjected to gas chromatograph analysis. The chromatogram shows characteristic peak patterns of a common hydrocarbon fuel, n-Butane.”’

‘Lighter fluid, then.’

‘Right. Specifically, butane lighter fluid. The positive samples were taken from a section of carpet in the Mullens’ sitting room, and from the toy box in the corner near the video. Not much accelerant used — but then, it wouldn’t have needed a lot.’

‘It could have been an accidental spillage, couldn’t it?’ suggested Cooper.

‘Have you tried accidentally spilling lighter fluid, Ben?’

‘I don’t even smoke. I never have.’

‘Well, it comes in an aerosol can like this one, with a pressure valve that fits into the lighter.’

‘OK, I’ve seen it.’

‘The most you can do accidentally is create a bit of mist that makes your fingers feel cold. To spill it, you have to prise the top off the can.’

‘Even so, Diane, one of the Mullens’ kids could have done that.’

‘Maybe. So which of the Mullens was a smoker — Brian or Lindsay?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘The answer is, neither. And why didn’t the SOCOs find a lighter fluid can in the house? They’re metal, so it wouldn’t have been destroyed in the fire.’

‘I don’t know that either.’

‘Because there wasn’t one, Ben. The only can that’s turned up is this one, which was found in a wheelie bin down the road. And if this is the right one, then it wasn’t put there by accident.’

Fry had called a meeting of what was left of her team. They were waiting for Murfin, but he was finishing a phone call, typing one more paragraph of a vital report, trying to make the point that he had too much work to do already.

‘Right, there are things to be done in the Darwin Street arson enquiry,’ she said.

‘Such as?’ asked Murfin.

‘We need to chase up forensics from the fire scene — particularly that sitting room. Brian Mullen swears that he never went in there that night. If we find any evidence of his presence in the room after the fire started, then we can demonstrate that he’s lying.’

‘Right.’

‘Obviously, somebody will have to interview this Jed Skinner. That should happen as soon as possible, before it occurs to Mullen to contact Skinner and they get their story straight.’

‘I’ll do that, if you like,’ said Cooper.

‘No, let Gavin go.’

‘OK. What, then?’

‘You can come with me to the hospital. I want your opinion on Mr Brian Mullen.’

‘Really?’

‘Don’t look so surprised — it isn’t the first time I’ve asked for your opinion, Ben.’

‘Well …’

‘Also, Mullen’s story is that he arrived home from the Broken Wheel in a taxi, which dropped him off at the end of the street. I’ve already spoken once to the next-door neighbour, Keith Wade, but I want to know about a conversation they supposedly had. Wade must have witnessed Mullen going into the house on his abortive rescue mission. It would be useful if he happened to see his neighbour arriving in the street, too.’

‘From the taxi?’

‘That’s another thing — ’

‘You want us to find the taxi driver.’

‘Exactly. Confirm the time and place he picked Mullen up, and where he dropped him off. And then I’d like to know what happened to Skinner. Did the driver see him outside the club? Did he and Mullen share a taxi, even?’

‘I wonder if Mr Wade is aware of any problems between Mullen and his wife?’ said Cooper. ‘If he lives in an adjoining semi, he might have been close enough to hear any arguments.’

‘We should ask all the neighbours that,’ said Fry. ‘Discreetly, of course.’

Cooper looked at the map to check the relative locations of the fire and the wheelie bin where the lighter fluid can had been found.

‘By the way, this isn’t the Shrubs,’ he said, pointing at the map. ‘The area’s called that because of the names of the streets.’

‘I know that.’

‘Well, since when has Darwin been a shrub?’

‘It’s close.’

‘Close? In an evolutionary sense, or what?’

‘Geographically. Look, Lilac Avenue is just over there, no more than three hundred yards away. Myrtle Drive is next to it. It’s nothing to make a fuss about.’

‘No one on Darwin Street would consider themselves to be living in the Shrubs,’ said Cooper. ‘These things are important to people.’

Before they left, Cooper saw that two bin liners full of clothes had also been brought back from the Mullens’ house by the SOCOs for examination, though no one seemed to have any idea what they were expecting to find. Sometimes they took protect and preserve a bit too far.

‘Oh, you’re back,’ said Brian Mullen when they entered his room at the hospital. His voice sounded a bit better now, but for a slight tendency to squeak on the last syllable of a sentence.

‘Sorry to bother you again, sir,’ said Fry. ‘This is my colleague, DC Cooper.’

‘Do you have some information?’

‘Sorry?’

‘You said you’d keep me informed.’

‘Oh, yes. Well, I’m afraid it’s still early days yet. But I do have a few more questions.’

‘Questions again?’

‘I’m trying to get things straight in my mind. To clarify what happened the night your family died. Is that all right, sir?’

He lay back wearily. ‘I suppose so. As long as I can get out of here.’

Fry opened her notebook. ‘According to what you told me previously, you arrived home at about one thirty after your taxi dropped you off at the corner of Darwin Street. You saw the fire, but didn’t realize it was your own house until you were closer.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Who did you say you were out with, by the way?’

He was distracted by the question, which was what she wanted.

‘One of my mates, Jed Skinner. I work with him at the distribution centre.’

‘Oh, you’re a despatch manager, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right. Jed’s in the transport department.’

‘Just one mate, was it?’

‘Eh?’

‘Just you and Jed out for the night?’

‘Yes, like I said.’

Fry looked at her notebook. ‘You told me you were “out with mates”. That’s “mates”, plural.’

‘Well, I might have said that.’

‘Why?’

‘Look, we were in the pub first off — the Forester’s Arms. I know a lot of people in there, I’m a regular. So I was with lots of mates then.’

‘But only Jed at the Broken Wheel?’

‘Like I said.’

‘You went there alone, the two of you? And you left together, just the two of you again?’

‘Yes.’

‘And that was just after one. So the next person you spoke to must have been the taxi driver. And then there was your neighbour, Mr Wade. Shortly after that, you ran into the house, then the firefighters pulled you back out.’

‘I’ve told you all this. For God’s sake — ’

Mullen controlled his burst of anger, then raised his still bandaged hands, as if presenting the evidence.

‘And you can’t remember what you burned yourself on, Mr Mullen?’

‘I told you, it was the banister rail. It must have been that, because it was the only thing I touched.’

‘Ah, yes. And it’s made of wood, so it would have been burning, or at least smouldering. But the banister rail is only on one side of the stairs — the other side is a blank wall. Would you have touched the banisters with both hands?’

‘I must have done.’

Mullen held up his hands again, as if he thought she couldn’t see them. The facts were indisputable, he seemed to say.

Fry wished she could have taken swabs from his hands to test for traces of accelerant on his skin, but she had no evidence to push it so far. And it was too late now anyway.

‘Look, maybe I panicked and touched it with the other hand on the way down,’ said Mullen.

‘It’s possible.’

‘Of course it is.’

‘And you didn’t go into any of the rooms downstairs?’ asked Fry. ‘The sitting room, for example?’

‘No. Why would I do that? Like I told you yesterday, I knew my family would be in bed at that hour.’

‘We believe the fire started in the sitting room. It must have been obvious when you entered the house that the smoke was coming from there. Are you quite sure you didn’t go into the sitting room, or even touch the sitting-room door?’

‘Yes, I’m sure.’

Mullen was starting to look sulky and irritable. Fry gave Cooper a look that told him to take over for a while.

‘Do you smoke, sir?’ asked Cooper.

‘No.’

‘What about your wife? I’m sorry to ask — ’

‘No, Lindsay didn’t smoke either. I can see what you’re driving at, but we both agreed not to smoke a long time ago, for the sake of the kids. Passive smoking is very damaging to young children. Their air passages are so small they breathe in far more smoke than an adult would.’

‘I see. What about other members of your family?’

‘There’s only John who’s ever smoked. But he knows not to when he’s in our house …’

‘… for the sake of the kids, yes,’ said Fry.

Cooper consulted the notes Fry had given him. ‘John? That would be John Lowther, your brother-in-law?’

‘Yes.’

Fry noticed a nurse hovering in the background. ‘We’ll let you rest now, Mr Mullen. I realize you’ve had a terrible ordeal, and we appreciate your time and co-operation.’

‘It’s OK. Obviously, I want to help. I mean, it was my wife and kids who got killed in that fire. If some bastard — ’

Fry stood up. ‘I understand. Well, until we speak again, Mr Mullen, I’d like you to see if you can remember who else you spoke to that night at the Forester’s Arms and at the Broken Wheel, and the names of everyone who was there that you knew.’

‘What?’

‘Well, think about it, sir. If that fire was started deliberately, it might have been done by someone who knew that you’d be out of the house at the time. Someone who’d seen you partying at the Broken Wheel with your friend Jed, perhaps.’

Mullen nodded silently.

‘Still can’t think of anyone?’

‘No.’

‘Well, we’ll keep making enquiries.’

‘You’ve talked to Henry and Moira as well, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, I visited them the day before yesterday.’

‘Why did you have to bother them? They’re devastated about Lindsay and the children. We all are.’

‘There might be some detail that Mr and Mrs Lowther have noticed. A person they’ve seen near your house, for example.’

Mullen’s expression darkened further. ‘You’re not letting go of this idea that the fire was started deliberately?’

‘No, we’re not letting go of it, Mr Mullen,’ said Fry. ‘Is there some reason that you think we should?’

‘I just don’t see how it’s possible.’

‘We’ll know that better when we get the results of the forensic examination.’

His shoulders sagged at the mention of forensics. Sometimes, the word seemed to carry a symbolic power, as if it was a scientific magic that human beings were helpless to challenge. And perhaps that was right. Forensic evidence could kick-start a process that was impossible to stop until the criminal justice juggernaut had crushed everyone in its way.

‘Leave me alone,’ he said. ‘Leave us alone. Someone has got to look after Luanne.’

‘I thought you were a bit rough on Mr Mullen,’ said Cooper as they left the hospital and walked to the car park.

‘Yes, I was. And wouldn’t you have expected him to complain a bit more?’

‘But if he had complained more, then you’d be saying he protested too much, and that was a sure sign of guilt.’

Fry laughed. ‘Look, you know the husband is by far the likeliest candidate in a case like this.’

‘Statistically speaking, yes.’

‘So we have to look at him thoroughly. There shouldn’t be any question of letting him get away with conflicting statements, just because he’s supposed to be the grieving husband.’

‘Conflicting statements?’

‘Yes, like when “out with mates” suddenly becomes just one mate when he’s pressed. It sounds to me as if good old Jed is the only mate Mr Mullen actually had lined up for an alibi. He had to change his story when he was asked for names. Not enough attention to detail, you see.’

‘Diane, you’ve got him well and truly in the frame already, haven’t you?’

‘We’ll see. What’s the betting there are a few more little details Mr Mullen hasn’t paid enough attention to?’

‘You’ve given him a chance to work out his story now, though. You warned him you were going to ask for more names.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, if Mr Mullen wasn’t at the Broken Wheel that night, he wouldn’t be able to make up names off the top of his head, would he? So shouldn’t we have asked him right there and then?’

‘My guess is he’d have said he couldn’t remember. And if I tried pushing him, I’d look like a heartless bitch.’

‘True.’

‘And Mr Mullen would have got all stressed, and a doctor would have come and kicked us out.’

‘So …?’

‘So this way, I’ve done the caring and considerate bit and given him time to think about it while he’s recovering from his injuries. If I’ve judged him right, the longer he has to think about it, the more anxious he’ll get. Then he’ll start trying to think up something to give us when we come back. That’s where he’ll go wrong.’

‘Diane, I wouldn’t have believed it possible, but I think you’re getting more devious than ever.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You really think these tactics will work on Brian Mullen?’

‘Yes. Don’t you?’

‘Only if he’s guilty.’

For once, Keith Wade wasn’t out in his garden supervising operations in Darwin Street. Not that there was much to see now, apart from the tent, a few metres of tape outside number 32, and a different member of the chorus from Pirates rehearsing his act at the gate.

Cooper had to ring the bell of Wade’s house for several minutes before there was a thumping on the stairs in the hallway and the door opened. Wade glared at Cooper, then recognized Fry standing behind him.

‘What’s happened?’ he said. ‘What’s the panic?’

He was unshaven and bleary-eyed, dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt that looked as though it had just been thrown on. Well, at least he didn’t sleep in the woolly sweater. And he hadn’t said ‘where’s the fire?’, which might have seemed tasteless.

‘Sorry, did we wake you up, sir?’ said Fry.

‘Yes, I told you — I do late shifts.’

‘We won’t keep you long. This is my colleague, DC Cooper.’

Wade glanced up and down the street. ‘You’d better come in a minute.’

His house was pretty much what she would have expected from a divorced man living on his own. Stale smells of cooking and body odour, mingling with cigarette smoke. He had to move piles of newspapers off chairs to let them sit down, and one glimpse of the kitchen told Fry that its condition wouldn’t compare to Lindsay Mullen’s, even after a disastrous fire.

‘Yes, of course I remember Brian arriving that night,’ said Wade when she prompted him. ‘How is he, by the way?’

‘Physically fine. We hope he’ll be discharged today.’

‘Great. He’s a brave bloke, you know.’

‘Did you see how he arrived?’

‘No. He was only a couple of houses away by the time I saw him. There was too much else going on, you know. He looked pretty dazed, but he recognized me.’

‘What did he say?’

Wade frowned. ‘I can’t remember exactly. Should I have taken notes? It didn’t seem that important.’

‘No, I understand. But if you could try …’

‘Well, he wanted to know if Lindsay and the kids were still in the house,’ said Wade. ‘That’s what he was bothered about, obviously. When I said I thought they were, he went sort of berserk and ran off.’

‘And that’s when he tried to get into the house?’

‘He did get in. The firemen had broken the door down by then. Brian ran past them and was in the house before they could stop him. Brave, like I said. I feel really sorry for him, you know. We’ve always been good friends, and good neighbours. As for little Jack and Liam, they were nice lads. It’s such a shame.’

For the second time, Wade seemed to have forgotten that Lindsay Mullen had died in the fire, too. It might be unconscious, but there had to be a reason for the oversight.

‘How had Brian and Lindsay been getting on recently?’ asked Fry.

‘Sorry?’

‘You knew them well, and you live right next door. You must have been aware of any problems in their marriage. Domestic arguments tend to get a bit loud, and you’re only a few feet away.’

Wade shifted uneasily. ‘I don’t want to say anything bad about them. It wouldn’t be right.’

‘In these circumstances, it’s not right to keep anything back,’ said Fry. ‘You must try to be objective if you’re going to help us, sir.’

He looked at her, and then at Cooper. Battling with his conscience — if he had one. Or weighing up which approach would be most to his advantage, perhaps. Fry was pleased they’d got him out of bed. His replies might be a little less calculated than if they’d caught him in his guardian-of-the-streets mode.

‘OK, I have heard a few rows from next door,’ he said. ‘But it’s normal, isn’t it? God knows, I had enough bust-ups with Pat before she left.’

‘Did the Mullens’ arguments happen recently?’ asked Cooper.

‘Well, there’d been more of them recently. I could hear the shouting, not what they were arguing about, you understand. I wasn’t eavesdropping.’

‘Of course not.’

Wade hesitated. ‘Come to think of it, I reckon I heard them arguing on Sunday night.’

‘The night of the fire?’

‘Yes, it must have been before Brian went out. I recall he slammed the front door a bit hard as he left.’

‘These arguments, were they getting worse?’ asked Fry. ‘Do you think they might have been close to breaking up?’

‘Breaking up? Why would they?’

‘Well, it happened to you, didn’t it?’

Wade seemed to consider that. ‘Perhaps Lindsay was under stress, with the three children. It can put pressure on a couple, I reckon. But walking away from a marriage doesn’t make it better.’

‘Do you and your ex-wife have any children, sir?’

‘No, we never had kids. Pity — I’ve always liked children.’

Before they left his house, Fry reminded Wade of his promise to email the photos from his digital camera. ‘If you prefer, we could borrow the camera now and return it when we’ve downloaded the pictures?’

‘No, no — I’ll do it,’ said Wade. ‘I’ve been a bit busy, that’s all. But I’ll get around to it, I promise.’

Outside, Fry pulled out her phone and called Gavin Murfin.

‘How are you getting on, Gavin?’

‘I haven’t been able to trace the taxi driver yet. Jed Skinner can’t remember which firm it was that Brian Mullen used that night. Skinner lives in Lowbridge, so the two of them went off in completely different directions when they left the Broken Wheel. I’m running out of time now, Diane, so it’s going to have to wait.’

‘OK, Gavin. But otherwise, how was Skinner?’

‘A bit oily.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I found him in the transport department at the distribution centre. He must be their lubrication specialist, by the look of him. Anyway, he confirms Brian Mullen’s story to the letter. They went to the Forester’s Arms first, then on to the Broken Wheel. They left some time after one. He saw Mullen get into the taxi.’

‘Right. Thanks, Gavin.’

Murfin breathed heavily in her ear for a moment before he rang off.

‘Jed Skinner was word perfect, Diane,’ he said. ‘I wish you luck if you’re going to try to break that alibi.’