No Holds Barred (21 page)

‘I certainly heard the cars and someone shouting,' Daniel added. ‘I imagine you'll find evidence of accelerants.'

‘We'll be conducting a thorough investigation in due course, sir,' the officer promised, in the tone of one who wasn't keen on being told how to do his job. ‘If accelerants were used, we'll soon find out.'

‘Oh, and they sloshed petrol against the front door. It was coming underneath,' Daniel said remembering. ‘I saw that myself.'

The firefighter's eyes narrowed.

‘Sounds as though they intended to make a thorough job of it, then.'

‘It seems so.'

‘And you were both in the building when this happened?'

‘Yes, we got out of the back bedroom window, but it was a close-run thing,' Daniel told him.

‘I understand from one of my colleagues that this cottage has been empty for some months. I suppose it's quite possible that the persons responsible assumed that it still was?'

‘My car was parked out here on the lane,' Daniel pointed out. ‘I moved it just before you came.'

‘Ah,' the officer said grimly. ‘That puts a different slant on it. I imagine the police will be keen to speak to you in due course.'

As if on cue, more blue lights were seen approaching, and a police car came to a halt behind the second fire engine, closely followed by a paramedic car. Four more uniforms spilled out into the crowded lane and, after speaking to the pump crew, headed en masse for where Daniel, Drew and the fire officer stood.

Daniel sighed inwardly, Taz leaped and plunged against the hand in his collar, excited by the sight of the uniforms, and Drew watched the oncoming tide of authority with wide eyes reflecting the barrage of flashing blue lights.

A wearisome hour followed, during which Daniel answered the same questions over and over again, to a seemingly endless stream of officers of one kind or another. The two paramedics in the fast response car were rather keen that Daniel should visit A&E to monitor the effects of his smoke inhalation. This manifested itself in an annoying cough that set in every time he started to talk, but nevertheless he declined. He had seen enough of A&E departments on a Saturday night into Sunday morning to last him a lifetime, and he had no intention of spending the night in one when what he really needed was a chance to get his head down and sleep.

Eventually, they gave in, dressed a burn on his hand and checked Drew over before climbing back in their car and disappearing along the lane towards the village.

One or two sensation-seeking locals had driven up since the fire engines' arrival, most taking pictures on their mobiles before going away, disappointed, Daniel suspected, at the lack of ongoing drama. Because of this no one took much notice of the appearance of a Land Rover, until its driver got out and ducked under the blue and white tape stretched across the lane and demanded to know where Daniel was.

‘I'm sorry, miss,' a burly firefighter said, standing in her way. ‘You must stay back.'

‘Not until I've seen Daniel.' She raised her voice, trying to see round the man. ‘Daniel?'

‘It's all right. That's Mrs Summers – the owner,' Daniel called out. ‘Jenny, I'm over here!'

‘Oh, thank God!' She ducked under the firefighter's outspread arm and hurried towards him. ‘Are you OK?'

‘Fine.'

‘And Drew? Where's Drew?' She glanced round anxiously.

‘He's fine, too,' Daniel assured her. ‘It all got too much for him and he's asleep on the back seat of one of the police cars.'

The police officer who had been questioning Daniel now cleared his throat and turned his attention to Jenny.

‘Mrs Summers? I'm afraid we shall need to ask you one or two questions  . . .'

She ignored him.

‘I don't understand. How did this happen?' she asked Daniel. ‘It wasn't the chimney, was it? I've been meaning to get that swept for ages.'

‘No, it wasn't that. I'm afraid it was deliberate. Someone threw a firebomb through the window.'

‘No!' she gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, my God! Why?'

Daniel wasn't prepared to discuss that in front of the policeman, so he just shrugged and shook his head helplessly.

It was another twenty minutes before they were free to leave the scene of the fire, and a glance at his watch showed Daniel that it was nearly four in the morning. The crew of one fire engine were stowing away their equipment in preparation to leave, whilst the other would be remaining to carry on damping down the smouldering cottage, the officer in charge told Jenny before he left in his own car.

The police patrol cars had gone, and Drew walked sleepily beside Daniel, holding his hand, as they followed Jenny towards her Land Rover, the Merc being the wrong side of the fire tenders in the narrow lane.

‘So, how come you're here and not at the hospital?' Daniel asked as he slid into the passenger seat. ‘Did someone phone you?'

‘No.' Jenny glanced over her shoulder to where Drew was already asleep once more, belted into the back seat. She continued in a lower tone. ‘Actually, um  . . . there was nothing to stay for. Gavin passed away just after one o'clock this morning.'

FOURTEEN

‘
O
h, Christ! I'm sorry, Jenny,' Daniel said, putting his hand on her arm. ‘And now this. What a bloody awful night for you!'

Jenny took a deep breath.

‘I've had better,' she acknowledged, with just a hint of unsteadiness.

'Would you like me to drive?'

‘Thanks, but actually I'm better when I'm doing something. Just don't be sympathetic, all right?'

‘OK.' Daniel understood.

There was a hint of rosy grey in the east as they drove clear of the trees and over the last rise before the dip to the farm. Jenny slowed up and stopped. Below them, the patchwork of fields and hedges spread out in the first milky light of dawn, surrounding the old farmhouse and its outbuildings and looking much as it had probably done for centuries past.

‘It's beautiful, isn't it?' Jenny said, drinking in the scene.

‘It is.'

‘I've always loved this farm, this land,' she said wistfully. ‘I've loved the thought that so many generations of my family have lived and worked here over the years. I was proud to think that I was carrying on the work they started – somehow it gave everything a meaning, made sense of life. I thought – I hoped – that maybe one of the children would want to take it on after me. Harry's always loved the outdoor life. But now I don't know what I'll do. Nothing seems to make sense any more, and I don't know if I've got the energy to go on alone.'

‘Maybe – when this is over – you should get away for a bit. Take the kids and go somewhere with no memories, where you can just relax and recharge your batteries. I find sometimes you need to distance yourself from something to see how important it really is.'

Jenny turned her head to look at Daniel in the muted light of the Land Rover cab.

‘But is it going to be over? At the moment it just seems to be getting worse. I feel like everything's out of control and it scares me. I mean, look at tonight. You could have been killed. You
and
Drew. And for what? What's going on, Daniel? Do you know?'

‘I know a little, and I've got a pretty good idea about the rest. What I need now is some proof, and I will get it, so hang in there for a bit longer, eh?'

Jenny watched him for a few seconds, then sighed. ‘OK. But whatever you find out, I'd like to know. I mean, I've wondered sometimes, lately, if Gavin was mixed up in something. It wouldn't surprise me. I suppose I've known for a long time that he was bored with his life here – with me too, I think. You can tell me. I won't be shocked.'

‘If I knew, I'd tell you,' Daniel said simply. ‘But I don't.'

‘Fair enough.' She put the car in gear and they moved forward once more.

When they reached the farmhouse, Daniel carried the sleepy Drew inside and followed Jenny upstairs to Harry's bedroom, where he laid the boy on the bed, eased his trainers off and gently pulled the quilt over his sleeping form, clothes and all.

As if aware of being watched, Drew stirred, shifted on to his side and pulled the quilt high over his face until only a glimpse of a lean cheekbone with its sweep of dark lashes remained. Daniel half smiled, remembering how the boy had always slept like that, even when he was very small. Amanda had worried that he would suffocate himself.

Amanda.

What would she say if she ever learned of this night's events? And she
would
learn of them; that was a certainty. Daniel would have to tell her himself, even if it had her divorce solicitor rubbing his hands in glee. The inevitable accusations of being an unfit parent would be bad enough, without the added crime of an attempted cover-up.

He looked down at the boy once again. So innocent, so entirely dependent on him for protection and guidance. The fact hit him again with a jolt. His son had almost been killed because of him. Perhaps Amanda was right; perhaps he wasn't fit to take care of a child.

No. He gave himself a severe mental shaking. That was exhaustion talking.

‘Is he still asleep?' Jenny was in the doorway.

‘Yes. He didn't wake at all.'

‘Do you want to get straight to bed, or would you like a cup of tea?'

‘Tea,' Daniel said decisively. ‘My throat's horribly dry and sore.'

Daniel slept in late the next morning, glad that it was a Sunday. He woke to the smell of frying bacon wafting up the stairs and made good time showering and getting dressed. With practical foresight, Jenny had left a T-shirt out for him: one of Gavin's, he supposed. A glance into Drew's room revealed nothing but a tumbled bed and half-drawn curtains, and when Daniel reached the kitchen, he found the boy already there and tucking into a full English breakfast.

‘Just in time,' Jenny said, carrying two more laden plates to the table. ‘I was about to call you.'

‘Wow! You've been busy!' A swift scrutiny noted slightly swollen eyelids and skin paler than usual, but, all in all, he thought she looked as though she was holding up quite well.

‘Cooked breakfast on a Sunday is a Maidstone Farm tradition,' she told him. ‘Help yourself to coffee. I'll run you over to pick up your car later on.'

Conversation, as they ate, was restricted to everyday matters, Daniel reluctant to dwell on the subject of the fire with Drew present and Jenny apparently equally keen to avoid talking about her loss. However, when Jenny rose from the table to make another pot of coffee, Drew spoke up of his own volition for the first time, and it was obvious where his thoughts had been.

‘Why did they do it, Dad? They must have known we were inside because of the car – that's what you told the fireman.'

‘I don't suppose they knew you were there. And, anyway, I expect they thought we'd wake up and get out in time.'

‘But we almost didn't  . . .'

Daniel's wish to save his son from harsh reality led him to search for a mitigating answer.

‘A lot of people don't realize quite how quickly a fire can take hold,' he said, conveniently disregarding the fact that these particular people had made quite sure of a rapid spread by using petrol bombs. Although he didn't think his death had been the primary aim, he didn't kid himself that the reported discovery of his charred remains would have occasioned too much grief in the Boyds.

‘It might even have been bored teenagers,' he added, tearing a piece of toast with which to mop up his egg yolk.

‘Who called the fire brigade?' Jenny asked.

‘Someone from the village. The officer said they were already out on a shout when they took the call about Forester's, but it turned out to be a false alarm – some drunks setting fire to a dustbin or something. That's why they were so quick.'

‘Not quick enough,' she said gloomily.

‘Good job I was downstairs,' Drew observed, and Daniel agreed. No need to frighten the boy with how close he had been to disaster. If he had been in either of the front rooms when the firebombs had come through the windows  . . .

‘You didn't see what kind of cars they were?' Jenny asked the boy.

Drew shook his head sadly. ‘No, only the lights. One of the cars had loads of lights on top. I told the policeman that.'

The look Jenny flashed across at Daniel held a wealth of meaning. The significance of the lights clearly wasn't lost on her.

‘So, what now?' she asked after a moment.

‘We let the police and the fire investigators do their thing, I suppose. And Drew and I go shopping for some clothes.'

‘Dad, I've got a pair of Harry's trousers on,' Drew piped up. ‘They're a bit short.'

‘You're taller than he is,' Jenny told him, before turning back to Daniel. ‘Yes, but what will you do? Where will you stay? You know you're welcome to stop here – there's plenty of room. The children will be back later, and it'd be nice for Harry to have someone of his own age around.'

‘Can we, Dad? Harry's got some ace games on his Nintendo!'

Daniel hesitated. It was a difficult line of discussion to pursue in front of Drew. It was tempting to say yes, but with Gavin not twenty-four hours dead, he felt that he would be laying Jenny open to the kind of gossip that could be extremely hurtful. And there was no way that it wouldn't become common knowledge with Taylor Boyd on the case.

Jenny saved him the awkward explanation.

‘If you're thinking about what people will say – I don't really care. I'm past worrying about that. It's none of their business.'

‘
You
don't care, but what about your kids? Other kids can be cruel.'

Jenny's face fell. ‘Oh. I see what you mean. But it seems so stupid, you paying for a room in the village when there are rooms to spare in this old house.'