The Boudicca Parchments

Chapter 14

“And then I collapsed on the ground and that’s the last thing I remember till I woke up here..”

In the stark, whitewashed interview room, Daniel was explaining to the police what had happened, starting from when he got the SMS while in California. He had been formally arrested at the hospital on suspicion of arson and murder, discharged from the hospital, brought here to Stevenage police station, allowed time to rest and was now being interviewed under caution. He had waived the right to a lawyer but in all honesty couldn’t understand why all this was happening. It was obvious that he had been lured into a trap by Martin Costa — if indeed it was Costa. But the looks on the faces of the interrogating officers were sceptical.

“And how do you explain Martin Costa’s body in the wreckage?”

This was the plainclothes officer. He had identified himself at the hospital as Chief Inspector Vincent.

“I told you: I noticed a body there just before the place went up in flames.”

“So he sends you a text telling you to come there and twenty minutes later, when you arrive, you find him dead?”

“I didn’t know he was dead. I mean I didn’t even know if it was him.”

“You’d forgotten what he looked like?”

“I only saw his feet protruding.”

“Then how did you know he was dead?”

This was Sergeant Connor, the uniformed man form the hospital.

“I didn’t. Like I told you, I was just going to check when the fire was started and building went up in flames.”

“Yet you knew it was a body?”

Daniel squirmed slightly, realizing that he had been perhaps a little imprudent in his choice of language.

“Well the feet were unmoving.”

“He could have been unconscious.”

“He may well have been. But if you want to quibble then I could point out that a body doesn’t necessarily mean a dead body.”

Connor looked over at Vincent. The chief inspector nodded, almost imperceptibly. Sergeant Connor continued.

“Well as a matter of fact, he was dead. The post mortem confirmed that Costa didn’t die of burns or smoke inhalation. He was bludgeoned to death by multiple blows to the head. The collapse of the roof would not have accounted for the injuries all around his cranium. But let me be clear about this Mr Klein, are you saying that you did not know that Costa was dead?”

“Well, in the circumstances — I mean with the legs sticking out and not moving — I think I probably considered the possibility that it was a dead body. But I didn’t really have any time to act on it before the place went up in flames.”

“Oh yes and you blacked out, recovered and managed to stagger out just in time before the remnants of the ceiling collapsed.”

“That’s right,” said Daniel, irritated by the aggressive approach. “Look could I ask why I even been arrested? Everything I’ve told you can be checked out and — ”

“Most of it,” Connor interrupted. “Not all of it.”

“Well the text messages can be. And the fact that I only flew in a few hours before the events.”

“That doesn’t put you in the clear.”

Daniel had already twigged that Connor was playing the bad cop.

“And why would I kill him?”

“Well let’s see now,” said the sergeant, as if thinking about this for the first time. “Martin Costa invites you to share some major new archaeological discovery with you. You race back from the United States, smelling the chance to make a name for yourself by getting cut in on a piece of the action, then Martin Costa does a one-eighty and leaves you in the lurch and so in a fit of rage you kill him. Then — desperate to cover up your crime — you set the place on fire.”

Daniel wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the ridiculous accusation itself or the fact that Sergeant Connor was trying to sound like an American tough guy. Even his use of “one-eighty” instead of “U-turn” made his aspirations clear. For a minute Daniel flirted with the puerile temptation to address the sergeant as “Inspector Callahan.” But he realized that flippancy wouldn’t help his position and aside from that, there was a more important point to raise.

“Before the place went up in flames, I noticed a smell. And I believe it was the smell of petrol.”

A smirk crept onto Connor’s face.

“It’s remarkable how much your memory seems to be recovering.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

By now Daniel was beginning to get irritated by the sarcasm.

“The fire started at only a single point in the building, but the investigators did find traces of an accelerant.”

“Judging by the smell that I remember, I’d be surprised if it was only ‘traces’.”

“And what’s your point?”

Daniel spoke very quietly, to emphasize his point, forcing both Connor and Vincent to strain to hear him.

“That whoever set the place on fire did so using petrol as an accelerant. I don’t mean they used a Molotov cocktail, I think the place had already been doused with petrol. That’s why it spread so quickly. But I think you already know that.”

“We do already know that Mr Klein.”

Now Daniel leaned forward confidently.

“Then you’ll also know that I drove straight from the airport to Ashwell, had lunch at the pub and then went to meet Costa. So when and where would I have got the petrol to start the fire?”

The chief inspector nodded approvingly. But Connor didn’t see this. He leaned forward across the table and almost pressed his face against Daniel’s.

“From your car? It isn’t a diesel.”

“No but it wasn’t outside the burnt-out house either. It was back at the pub. There was no way to drive to the house anyway because the path was a footpath. The final stretch would have had to be on foot. And because I was unsure of the way and where to park, I left it at the Three Tuns and walked from there. So if your theory is correct and I killed him in a fit of rage and then set the fire to cover my tracks, that would mean I would have had to go back to the pub or rather the Post Office, siphon off some petrol, without arousing any suspicion, take it back to the house and then start the fire — and all that in broad daylight, without being noticed.”

Daniel would not have been in the least surprised if Sergeant Connor had turned a bright shade of red at this juncture. But that did not happen. Instead, the sergeant merely frowned and turned round to receive yet another approving nod from his otherwise silent superior. And again the smile returned to Connor’s intensely smug face.

“Well it so happens that some one did see you siphoning off petrol from your car.”