DS Jessica Daniel series: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water – Books 4–6 (47 page)

‘Let’s check around the back,’ she said, leading the way.

A high overgrown hedge shielded their trespassing from any potential onlookers as Rowlands helped to lift Jessica over the top of a wooden gate that was taller than she was. Landing with a grunt
on the other side, Jessica unbolted the lock to let the constable through.

As they walked into the back garden, the hedge height dropped, allowing a row of houses at the end of the property to be clearly visible. One of them had a light shining through a top-floor
window.

‘Should we go back?’ Rowlands asked, nodding towards the house.

‘Nah, it’s too dark for anyone to see,’ Jessica replied. The light of the moon, along with a faint glow from a street lamp on the other side of the hedge, gave them just enough
illumination to see the area. A roll of carpet had been left directly ahead of the side entrance and Jessica stepped over it, attempting not to stand on anything that could show they had been
there. She turned to check there were no lights on at the rear of the house as Rowlands again peered through the window.

‘Nothing,’ he said without prompting.

The garden was a mix of uneven paving slabs and overgrown, muddy grass areas with seemingly no plan of what should be where. A flower bed ran the length of the hedge near to the discarded carpet
but, although it was spring, Jessica could see nothing was sprouting. Instead, it comprised piles of earth and a bush which had been hacked back in the corner.

As she traced her way along the hedge at the end of the garden, Jessica’s eyes were drawn to a shed in the far corner that was largely hidden in the shadows. The only thing that gave it
away was the sloping A-shaped roof, with long windowless sides almost camouflaged against the background.

Jessica was edging towards the outhouse when she felt a jolt shoot through her. At first she thought it was pain from her shoulder but then she heard her phone’s ringtone start, and
realised it was the vibration of the device through her jacket pocket that had made her jump. Desperate not to draw the attention of a nosy neighbour, Jessica fumbled for the phone, stabbing at the
screen.

‘Adam?’ she whispered loudly.

‘Er, yeah. Are you okay?’

For some irrational reason, Jessica felt him talking at full volume could expose where she was and shushed agitatedly into the phone.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, trying to keep her voice down. ‘I’m sorry I’m late, I’ll be home soon. Do you want me to pick up a takeaway?’

Adam had lowered his voice when he next spoke. ‘I’m going to sort myself out. You’re definitely going to be home soon?’

‘Yes but I’ve got to go.’ Jessica ended the call abruptly. She remembered a few weeks previously when she had been in the station’s canteen and caught the tail-end of
Rowlands finishing a phone conversation with Chloe as each refused to hang up on the other. He eventually relented when he noticed Jessica watching but public displays of affection were another
part of being in a relationship she hadn’t come to terms with.

Jessica returned the phone to her pocket and stood silently in case a neighbour had noticed. As she was about to continue towards the shed, she heard Rowlands’s voice hissing from
somewhere close to the house. ‘Jess.’

His tone sounded urgent and she walked as quickly as she could towards him, careful not to leave footprints on the grassed areas. He was standing by one of the windows at the rear of the house
looking at her.

‘What?’ Jessica said.

‘Look.’ Rowlands pointed to a small alcove underneath the bay window, where the frame curved out, leaving a gap underneath. ‘I’ve not touched it,’ he added.

Jessica took the phone out of her pocket and crouched, turning on the screen’s light. In the white glow, she could see a faded green plastic petrol can pushed towards the back, lying on
its side. The lid was unscrewed, resting on the ground, attached by a thin synthetic strip. There were a few drops of liquid on the concrete next to it but it otherwise seemed empty.

Jessica stood up as the light on her phone turned itself off. ‘Shit.’

‘It doesn’t look good, does it?’ Rowlands said.

She leant against the window, facing the rest of the garden, and breathed out deeply, watching the steam drift upwards into the air and then evaporate.

‘Maybe . . .’ Jessica replied, pausing. ‘But, if Anthony set fire to the other house, why would he come back here, leave the can and then disappear? Also, it’s sort of
hidden where you found it but, if he wanted to properly hide it, why wouldn’t he dump it in a bin, a hedge, a field or anywhere on his way back? It’s only a plastic can, so it’s
not as if it can have any sentimental value.’

‘True but why would it be here at all? Why wouldn’t it be in the back of his car where anyone else would keep it?’

Jessica pressed against the glass and stared up at the clear sky. The moon was a bright white and she could see the blinking red lights of a plane passing overhead.

‘What if he was out here when we knocked?’ Rowlands added. ‘He might have heard us and then shoved it in there to hide it and run off.’

Jessica wasn’t convinced but a thought skipped through her mind. ‘There is a shed at the other end.’ She pointed towards the shadowed corner. The constable stepped forward but
Jessica held a hand across him. ‘Be careful, we’re not supposed to be here. Don’t leave any footprints.’

Together they navigated their way across the uneven flags, carefully stepping on the parts of the lawn with the most grass when they had to. Jessica knew they wouldn’t have a good reason
for trampling on his property if Anthony was in his shed. If he wasn’t, she didn’t want to run the risk of having problems with evidence later.

With something like the petrol can, she couldn’t simply phone into the station and say what they had picked up because they had discovered it while trespassing. If that ever found its way
into a defence lawyer’s argument, the evidence could be ruled as inadmissible. That didn’t mean there weren’t ways and means of working around the law. Jessica had already
mentally rehearsed the conversation she would have with Cole later that evening. It would go along the lines of, ‘Our only suspect went missing at the exact time the fire was being set,
let’s ask a magistrate if we can have a warrant.’ It was easy to make it sound like two and two were five if really necessary. Once that warrant was granted, Jessica would either be
with the team that arrived at the house, or she would have a quiet word with whoever was leading the raid, just to say that there might be something of interest under the window at the back. If
they could handily forget that the side gate was unlocked, then all the better.

It was the kind of thing that happened frequently although no one ever talked about it. When they knew about a certain person who was dealing drugs, they might have no evidence but
‘intelligence’ would emerge of people coming and going at inopportune hours, or ‘neighbours’ would provide anonymous statements. By the time they’d raided the place
and found the evidence as they knew they would, no one cared whether the tip was genuine.

Lost in her thoughts, Jessica almost fell into the constable as he tripped on a raised paving slab and rocked backwards to steady himself. She stumbled and stretched out as he half-turned and
reached out to grab her. He caught her just in time to stop her falling but Jessica winced as he touched the shoulder Ryan had barged into.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, come on, let’s get on with it.’

Jessica stepped past her colleague and hopped from one paved area to the next until she was in front of the shed. She hadn’t been able to see it from a distance but the wood was stained a
greeny-brown and large parts of it were damp and rotten, even though it hadn’t rained for a few days. The door appeared as flimsy as the rest of the structure but a large metal padlock was
attached. Jessica rattled the door gently but couldn’t pull it forward enough to make a crack she could see through.

‘Shall we go?’ Rowlands whispered. ‘He’s obviously not here if it’s padlocked from the outside.’

‘Light your phone up and hold it here for me,’ Jessica said, crouching next to the lock.

The constable did as he was told as Jessica reached into an inside pocket of her jacket and took out a wide hair clasp. ‘What are you doing?’ Rowlands asked but she ignored him.

The padlock was connected to a metal bracket and, using the clip at the back of her clasp, Jessica scraped the paint out of the grooves of a screw holding the joint in place. After clearing all
three screws, she pushed the clasp into the grooves sideways then slowly began to turn it. As she twisted, Jessica thought the clasp would give way first but she gradually managed to loosen the
screw before, finally, it dropped into her hand.

‘That was pretty good,’ Rowlands said.

‘Just hold the light still,’ Jessica replied grumpily as his hands shook. She started on the second screw, using both hands.

‘If this was a movie, you would have just picked the lock,’ the constable whispered.

‘If this was a movie, I’d have a chest three times bigger than I actually do and you’d be much better looking. Now hold still.’

Steadily Jessica eased the second and third screws out from the bracket before pocketing them. Although the padlock was still connected, the door’s hinge was only screwed to the frame of
the shed, so Jessica could pull it open. It squeaked loudly, so she wrenched it as quickly as she could and then propped a stone in front of it.

Jessica entered the shed, holding her phone out in front of her for light. She didn’t know what she expected but the interior was about as shed-like as she could have imagined. A lawnmower
was in the corner although, from the state of the back garden, it didn’t look as if it had been used in a while. A wooden shelf ran along the left-hand wall, stacked with jam jars, paint
brushes and all kinds of tools, with potted plants lining the wall opposite.

‘This is like my dad’s shed,’ Rowlands said unhelpfully.

‘Thanks for that. I just spent five minutes tearing my fingers to pieces trying to get in here.’

‘Can you see anything?’

‘Junk.’ Jessica turned to leave but Rowlands was blocking her way. ‘Come on, move,’ she said agitatedly.

Dave stepped backwards, grabbing her arm. ‘Jess . . .’

Jessica turned to see where he was pointing his phone. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the light but, as she squinted, she could see an upturned bucket caked in soil. At first she didn’t
know what he was highlighting but then she noticed it: sitting next to the bucket was a can of spray paint with a yellow cap.

Jessica had reached the main road on her commute the following morning when her phone started ringing. She pressed the button on her car’s dashboard to answer.
Rowlands’s voice sounded but he didn’t even say ‘hello’ before getting to the point.

‘Have you seen the paper?’

‘Which paper?’

‘The
Herald
. They’ve got the fire on the front page.’

‘Who wrote it?’

‘Some Sebastian bloke.’

Jessica edged into traffic that wasn’t moving and put her handbrake on. ‘What does it say about Martin and Anthony?’

Dave mumbled to himself, as if reading quickly. ‘It says it happened at Martin Chadwick’s house and that he was recently released from prison. It mentions the Alfie Thompson case . .
. I think that’s it. They’ve got a photo of the house so someone must have been there after we left.’

‘No Anthony or Ryan?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Well that’s one thing.’

‘There’s something else.’ Rowlands sounded ominous.

‘What?’ Jessica edged off the brake, crawling forward four car lengths before stopping again.

‘It’s got the girl’s suicide in. The one you were asking Ryan about. It’s only small but that’s on the front page next to the main story.’

Because she had seen Sebastian at the scene, Jessica knew that story would be going in but was worried about the journalist finding the link she knew existed between the two cases –
Ryan.

‘Does it mention any names?’ Jessica asked.

‘No, not even the girl’s.’

‘Well, that’s two things.’ There was a pause but Jessica could sense Rowlands had more to say. ‘Are you on a late today?’ she asked.

‘Yeah, I’m not in until this afternoon. Do you know what’s going on this morning? I’d rather be with you.’

Jessica didn’t want to admit it to him but she would rather Dave was with her too. With Izzy’s maternity leave and the fact no one else had been hired to cover her, a detective
constable was being asked to come in from a different district for a few hours at the end of the day to tidy up any of the late bits and pieces. It helped to clear the paperwork but hadn’t
gone down well among staff.

‘I spoke to Jack last night,’ Jessica said, waving a car into her lane with an exaggerated movement of her arm to let the other driver know she was doing them a massive favour.
‘Someone was going to watch Anthony’s house overnight while he sorted out a warrant to search the property. They might have already gone in. I told him they might want to pay attention
to under the back window and in the shed.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He pretended he hadn’t heard.’

‘Ha! What about Anthony? Have we got a warrant to pick him up?’

‘I don’t know. Jack said they had put him on the watch lists and were going to send uniform around to knock on doors. He reckoned they’d call me overnight if he turned up but I
haven’t heard anything so I assume he’s still missing. We still don’t have anything concrete to connect him to the fire other than the fact he’s not at his house. I suspect
the DCI’s played a bit of smoke and mirrors if he’s sorted the search warrant but we probably didn’t have enough for the arrest one.’

Jessica heard Rowlands yawn loudly. ‘Were you up late last night?’ she asked. ‘What were you doing?’

Dave yawned again straight away but Jessica could hear him trying to talk through it. ‘Nothing. I got in late and couldn’t sleep.’

‘Aye aye, so you’ll have deleted the Internet history this morning before Chloe saw it?’