Up in Flames (2 page)

             
PC Jonathon Keane, the area driver, shook his head. ‘Me and John Jones had our hands full just keeping the gawpers back out of harm’s way.’

             
‘Okay. I’ll get others on to that.’ He went on briskly. ‘I want you to get a clipboard and make sure you get the name of everyone that enters the house from the front. Find someone to do the same from the rear.’ After the firemen had clumped through with their equipment Casey realised this was probably a waste of time. But if this turned out to be arson it was essential he did everything by the book in case an investigation followed. ‘But before you do that find some more bodies to help Jones keep that crowd back out of the way. Send someone to let me know when the pathologist gets here. Once I’ve looked at the scene I’ll probably be with the neighbour, Mrs Neerey at 7a.’

             
After directing other officers to search for any discarded container with petrol or other accelerant dregs, Casey and Sergeant Catt climbed into their white protective gear and borrowed hard hats and masks from the Brigade vehicle. They made their way round to the alleyway that Gus Freeman had mentioned.

             
The fire had blasted the windows out and the grass in the back garden glittered diamond-like in the bright sunshine. Treading carefully over the grass’s slippery carpet, they approached the house. Casey checked inside the back door for glass, but there was none inside which would have pointed to an intruder. It was all outside, making walking treacherous. Although the back door was badly burned away by the fire, Casey, like the Fire Chief, couldn’t see any obvious marks to suggest a forced entry and remarked as much to Catt.

             
‘But it’s a warm day,’ Catt pointed out. ‘I know Mrs Neerey thought it had been shut, but after seeing her neighbour’s home ablaze she’d have been in shock and could easily have been mistaken. But either way, we don’t know if it was locked, which is more to the point. If it wasn’t anyone could have gained easy access from the alleyway.’

             
Having checked the exterior, they approached the window of the living room, and peered through the now black and jagged frame.

             
The body of the adult was lying in the middle of the floor and as usual in a fire, it had adopted the typical ‘pugilistic attitude’, with the arms extended and the forearms flexed in a boxer’s pose. The legs, too, were flexed. This heat-stiffening, Casey knew from previous conversations with the pathologist, was caused by the coagulation of the muscles on the flesor surface of the limbs. But to Casey it suggested that the victim had fought the fire and suffered the inevitable, painful defeat. There was an infant’s cot near the window and he could see the tiny, blackened form through the metal bars. It, too, had adopted the boxer’s stance.

             
He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Behind him, he heard the crunch of glass as the rest of the SOCO team entered from the back alley. He opened his eyes and from a throat suddenly raw with held back emotion, said, ‘Let’s leave them to it. I want to speak to this neighbour, Mrs Neerey, anyway.’ They carefully retraced their steps and headed for 7a.

             
Mrs Angela Neerey, tear-streaked and obviously distressed, was standing in her doorway, watching the comings and goings and shaking her head. She was a fair-haired woman in her early thirties with a wide, generous mouth that looked as if it would smile readily. But now, its full curves were compressed. Her eyes were puffy, and she had a tight grip on the handkerchief in her right hand. Her gaze fixed steadily on Casey and Catt as they and walked up the path.

             
‘Mrs Neerey?’ Casey asked. She gave a quick nod. He introduced himself and Catt.

             
‘You’ve found them?’ she questioned, in a tear-thickened voice.

             
She must have watched as they spoke to the Fire Chief and guessed the worst, Casey surmised. ‘Two bodies have been found,’ he quietly confirmed. ‘One a baby. But I’m afraid we’ll have to wait for positive IDs.’

             
Mrs Neerey paled as she took in the implications of this. She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep back further tears. And as she crumpled the handkerchief tightly in her fist, she asked, ‘Was it — was it an accident or ... or another arson attack?’

             
‘We don’t know for sure either way yet,’ Casey told her, hoping to deflect her questions. But she persisted.

             
‘You must have an idea.’

             
Cautiously, Casey told her that arson was a possibility.

             
Her generous mouth tightened. ‘Then for God’s sake make sure you catch them this time. We don’t want anyone else getting away with murder. We don’t want more riots.’

             
Her harsh words were a brief foretaste of what Casey knew he could expect if this did turn out to be arson. He glanced at Catt, but the normally upbeat, even cocky, ThomCatt was subdued and unnaturally silent. That, more than anything — even the, so far, brief view of the victims — brought home to Casey what kind of task lay in front of them.

             
And after the uproar that had followed the failed investigation of black teenager Stephen Lawrence’s murder in south London, Casey knew that if his worst fears were realised and this did turn out to be arson the feelings that had been running high in the town since the first Asian arson were likely to explode.

             
Slow-fused and patient beyond most men’s capacity, Casey suspected both traits would be tested to the limit. And not just by the Asian community...

A minute later they were in Mrs Neerey’s sunny kitchen at the back of the flat. Decorated in shades of yellow and white
, it should have looked fresh and clean. But smoke from the fire had laid a coating of grime over everything.

             
‘Please, sit down.’ She gestured at the cheap pine table and four matching ladder-back chairs placed just under the window. After quickly wiping the chairs with a duster, she picked up a couple of toy trucks that lay on the floor in their path. ‘My son’s. He’s asleep, thank God. I was just making tea. Would you like some?’

             
‘Please.’ As they sat and Catt took out his notebook, Casey told her, ‘It’s really more for background information on your neighbour. Though, of course, we’ll need to go over everything you told the Fire Chief.’

             
The tea was made, poured and brought to the table. Mrs Neerey sat down opposite Casey.

             
‘If I can just confirm your neighbour’s name?’

             
‘Chandra. Chandra Bansi and Leela was the baby’s name.’ With a catch in her voice, she added, ‘Nine months old and just getting to that interesting stage.’ Her lips tightened as she grappled with further tears. ‘She and my little boy used to play together. What am I going to tell him?’

             
Confronted with such an impossible question, Casey could do nothing but awkwardly shake his head. ‘And Mrs Bansi—- Chandra, how old was she, do you know?’ he asked when she had blown her nose and taken a sip of her tea.

             
‘She was twenty. I know because she had a birthday last Friday and she invited me in for a glass of wine. She’s only lived here a few weeks.’ She gave a bleak smile and dabbed her eyes. ‘I suppose you think it’s foolish of me to be so upset on such a short acquaintance.’

             
Casey shook his head. ‘Such a death would upset anybody. And with the baby, too....’

             
Angela Neerey nodded, sniffed, then resumed her story. ‘I liked her, you see. I believed I’d got to know her in the time she was here. I felt sorry for her as she seems to have had a terribly thin time of it lately.’

             
‘In what way?’ Casey questioned.

             
‘In what way hasn’t she? is more to the point. For instance, you know she was recently widowed?’

             
Casey shook his head again. ‘At the moment, I’m a blank canvas. Anything you can tell us will be helpful.’

             
‘As I said, she was a widow. A very recent widow. Her husband only died a month or so ago, though from what she told me I don’t think Chandra was too broken-up about it.’ She hesitated. ‘It sounds awful to be talking about her in this way when she’s just died and in such a horrible way, but I got the distinct impression she regretted her marriage. I gather Magan, her husband, was the jealous type, possessive, besotted even. You can imagine that didn’t endear her to her mother-in-law, who I gather thought her son’s love for Chandra was not only turning him into a fool, but turning him against his mother. Well, she was a beautiful girl and of course it was an arranged marriage. As usual in such a marriage, she’d lived with her in-laws and I gather that hadn’t been a very happy experience.’ Her lips pulled back in a grimace. ‘It’s not much fun living with in-laws as I know only too well. They chucked her out, you know, when her husband died. Blamed her for his death.’

             
Casey glanced at Catt before he asked, ‘You’ve no idea why?’

             
She gave a tiny shrug. ‘Only-son-syndrome, I imagine. No-one would have been good enough. And then Chandra was very westernised and had decided opinions of her own. I gather that didn’t go down too well, either.’

             
‘You seem to have learned a lot about her in a few short weeks.’ Casey gave one of his rare smiles. A slight lift to the corner of his mouth, a crinkling warmth to the eye, then it was gone. It was almost as if he had a limited supply of such smiles and that this supply might be exhausted at any moment. Perhaps he had. In these politically-correct times the average copper had little reason to smile. And Casey, with the prospect of conducting what was likely to prove a difficult investigation in the full glare of critical publicity, had less reason than most.

             
Angela Neerey managed a tremulous smile in return. ’We had a bit more than one glass of wine on her birthday, as it happens. That’s when most of this came pouring out. And it helped, I suppose, that we’re both in the same boat. Both on our own, with babies, I mean. We babysat for each other. Chandra was a bit reserved, but friendly. God knows, she had her troubles. But she was just a normal young woman. That’s why —’ she broke off, unable to continue.

             
Not quite normal, Casey reminded himself as he thought again that it was far from ‘normal’ for a young Asian woman to live alone with her baby. He asked Mrs Neerey about it, but she was able to tell them little.

             
‘I found it curious myself,’ she told them. ‘I asked her about it once. It’s not as if she was on bad terms with her family. Her parents came round a couple of times. It all seemed perfectly amicable. On the surface, anyway, though I noticed none of her family ever babysat. Not even her grandmother, who you would think would love to spend time with the baby as she’s only over for a visit. But then Chandra did say her Nan hadn’t been well. Though, to be honest, I wondered whether that might not be an excuse.’

             
‘Why would she need one?’ Catt asked.

             
Angela Neerey pulled a rueful face. ‘Little Leela was a bawler, I’m afraid. I had to grit my teeth when I minded her, but I used to feel so sorry for Chandra having to cope alone with a baby that never stopped crying that I did it anyway just to give her a break. I’m lucky. I’ve been blessed with a good baby, but the boot could so easily have been on the other foot. I did wonder whether Chandra, given the predicament she found herself in, didn’t feel any resentment that her parents should have pressed her into the marriage. It would be a natural reaction, as I gathered that Chandra only gave in and agreed to the match when she was depressed after failing her exams. The implication being that she wasn’t bright enough for a career and that it made more sense for her to get herself a promising husband. Anyway, between one thing and another, she gave in and agreed to marry her father’s choice.’

             
‘And had ample time to regret it ever since?’ Catt commented.

             
‘That’s about the size of it.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose that’s partly why I’m so upset about all this.’ She waved a hand in the direction of her young neighbour’s ruined home. ‘I think Chandra was trying to find the courage to make a fresh start, to break away from her family and their expectations of her. Maybe even study for a career. She certainly had the courage to try. Now she’ll never have the chance.’

             
‘What about her family, Mrs Neerey?’ Casey asked quietly. ‘Do you know where they live? Or their surname?’

             
She shook her head. ‘Call me Angela, please. Though Chandra did mention that her father was a businessman and owned a string of clothes shops.’ She screwed up her face in an effort of recall. ‘I seem to remember her mentioning that one of his shops is in the High Street. I believe the flat she lived in was his, too.’