The Burning (28 page)

Ryan handed her another Kleenex. ‘I’ll be right back,’ he said gently. ‘I just need a quick word with Mrs Cooper.’

Ryan followed Jenny out of the flat and into the corridor, pulling the door almost fully closed behind them. ‘Who were the boys you were talking about?’

‘Acquaintances of Layla’s. Four lads from Bristol, according to Nicky. Ed came home one day last October and found her and Layla down on their knees – all being recorded for
posterity, of course. Apparently Ed waved his shotgun at them and they made themselves scarce. The graffiti on the wall outside appeared shortly afterwards.’

Ryan nodded, slowly assimilating this information into what he already knew. ‘And what’s this about the shells?’

‘The shot found in all three bodies was size 6. Bob Bream got in touch with my officer after hearing the evidence to say that he supplied Ed with his shells, and they were always size 4. I
think that means they’re heavier.’

‘Four is a larger gauge,’ Ryan said.

‘Do you think it’s significant?’

‘Ed knew his guns.’ Worry lines creased his forehead. ‘Mind if I talk to Bream?’

‘I can’t stop you.’

He looked at her with an expression of concern. ‘Can you sit tight for a couple of days while I follow this up?’

‘You’re having some dark thoughts, aren’t you?’

‘Thoughts can be deceptive, but still – mind how you go.’

He stepped back into the flat and closed the door.

J
ENNY SHOULDERED OPEN THE DOOR
of her office, hoping for some time alone to regroup and plan her next moves, but it wasn’t to be: she had guests
waiting. Sitting in the cramped waiting area in reception was Sam Lever with a smartly dressed woman and a gum-chewing teenage boy with hair falling over his eyes. She knew at once that they were
Emma Grant and her son, Simon.

‘I tried to get of hold of you, Mrs Cooper,’ Alison said wearily.

‘My phone’s out of battery.’

‘Always is,’ Alison muttered.

Sam Lever rose to his feet. ‘Mrs Cooper. I’ve taken the liberty of bringing Simon and Mrs Grant along. If you wouldn’t mind, he’d like to make some amendments to his
statement.’ Lever’s tone was markedly more conciliatory than it had been during their clash at court.

‘Good afternoon, Mrs Cooper. Emma Grant.’ Mrs Grant stood up and stepped forward to introduce herself. She was about fifty, but slim and fit, with unfussy, well-cut hair. Her
handshake was powerful, like a man’s; a horsewoman, Jenny guessed. ‘I must apologize for this morning’s misunderstanding—’

‘I stressed to Mr Lever that a summons to an inquest can’t be ignored, Mrs Grant,’ Jenny said, wanting to force the point home. ‘It’s a serious matter.’

‘It’s all right –’ Lever stepped in to head off excuses that would only embarrass him and his clients further – ‘Mrs Cooper and I have resolved that
issue.’

Jenny resisted the urge to slap Lever down again with a reminder that his attempt to seek special treatment for the Grant family could have landed them all with a charge of contempt and the
prospect of being arrested and brought to court in the back of a police car. She would allow him his dignity and offer him one more chance. He might even deserve it.

‘I won’t be a moment.’ Jenny headed into her office, wanting to clear her desk of any stray documents before inviting them in. The first thing lawyers learned in practice was
how to read upside down.

As she closed the door she heard Mrs Grant hiss in exasperation at her son: ‘For goodness’ sake! What do you look like? Get rid of that gum.’

Jenny felt a pang of sympathy for her. She could only imagine the tension in the Grant household since they’d received their summonses to appear in court. Few things could have held more
horror for a woman like Emma Grant than having her family’s dirty linen washed in front of friends and neighbours at a public inquest.

Simon Grant had combed his hair and spat out his gum by the time he followed Lever and his mother into the office. The three of them settled in an uneasy semicircle on chairs arranged on the
opposite side of the desk, with Lever to Jenny’s left and Mrs Grant in the middle.

‘How can I help you?’ Jenny asked briskly, hoping to convey that she would like their meeting to be over quickly.

Lever glanced at Simon and Mrs Grant. ‘As I mentioned, Simon would like to amend his statement.’

‘Amend or materially alter?’ Jenny asked.

‘I’m not sure that’s an altogether helpful distinction,’ Lever said. ‘The fact is he was very distressed by the news of what happened to Layla and Mandy Hart last
week.’

‘We have all been,’ Emma Grant added. ‘It’s quite horrifying. Incomprehensible—’

‘And the distress affected his recollection?’ Jenny said.

Simon Grant looked away, his face reddening with embarrassment.

‘If he’s reluctant to tell me certain things, how much harder must it be to tell you?’ Emma Grant said. ‘He’s only seventeen, Mrs Cooper, only
just
seventeen, and frankly with a lot of growing up left to do.’

Jenny was beginning to understand what had happened. Having been told that his clients were coming to court whether they liked it or not, Lever would have gone into damage-limitation mode and
insisted that they tell him everything. He would also have emphasized that lying under oath was an offence which always landed the offender in prison. In which case it was far safer to confess any
untruths already spoken in the coroner’s office than to be exposed in open court.

‘I’ll be frank with you, Mrs Cooper,’ Lever said. ‘I have explained to Simon that he doesn’t have to say anything that may incriminate him, but I’ve also told
him that, in this instance, it would be better for all concerned, not least Kelly Hart, if he simply told the truth. I spoke to Gloucester CID. They’re not interested in pressing any charges
against him.’

‘You mean for having sex with a minor?’

‘Yes,’ Lever answered.

Mrs Grant plunged her hands deep into her lap and closed her eyes, consumed with shame.

‘All right,’ Jenny said, deciding there was little to be gained by making the family’s suffering any worse, ‘I’m prepared to disregard his previous statement and
start again.’ She tapped some keys on her computer and brought up the pro forma witness statement. ‘Simon, I trust Mr Lever has explained to you that if you include anything in your
statement that’s untrue, you will be prosecuted.’

‘Yes,’ he answered cagily. ‘Is there any chance I can do this without Mum in the room?’

Mrs Grant opened her mouth to object, but Lever got in first: ‘I think that’s an excellent idea. Why don’t you wait outside, Mrs Grant?’

She looked from the lawyer to her son and back again; then, as if accepting that events had spiralled beyond her control, she rose quickly and left, touching her son’s shoulder as she
went.

‘OK,’ Jenny said, ‘you talk, I’ll type.’

With a little initial prompting from Lever, Simon began to tell his story. He couldn’t bring himself to look Jenny in the eye and directed his mumbled narrative to the floor, but it had a
ring of truth, and as Jenny transcribed it, she could think of no good reason to disbelieve him.

He told her that he had been at boarding school in Shropshire – the one that his father had attended – since he was eight years old. His long holidays were spent at the family home
in Blackstone Ley. Kelly Hart had worked as a cleaner at the house two half-days a week for as long as he could remember. The previous summer holiday, Kelly had started bringing Layla along,
ostensibly to help out, though Simon suspected the real reason was to keep Layla out of trouble. Layla would sometimes boast to him about her friends in Bristol – older teenage boys she had
met online – and the different ways she contrived to slip away from home and get herself into the city. Despite being only fourteen, she acted and behaved like a girl several years older. She
was streetwise and savvy. She knew where she could go to get served alcohol, and where to buy party drugs, and she talked as if she had already had several serious boyfriends.

The first time they had sex was by ‘accident’. It was a Friday night at the start of September. Simon had been out with a group of friends his own age in the nearby town of Thornbury
when Layla approached him in the street outside the pub. It was midnight and she was looking for a lift home. Simon let her share his taxi, but during the journey she made a move on him. He was
almost as drunk as she was, and inevitably one thing led to another. They had sex in the corner of the churchyard near her house – her idea. They did it again several times before he left
again for school. On one occasion it happened in his bedroom at home while Kelly was downstairs cleaning.

‘I sort of forgot how old she was,’ Simon said. ‘I know lots of girls my age who aren’t as mature as she was.’

Jenny spotted Lever smiling to himself as his client delivered the line.

They hadn’t seen each other again until the second week of December, when he was back home from school. He’d bumped into her again in the same pub in Thornbury. This time she was
with her friend Nicky Brooks, who was as drunk and flirtatious as she was. The three of them caught a taxi home, which he paid for, but Nicky had made sure nothing happened between him and Layla. A
couple of days later, Layla texted him saying she’d like to meet up again. They had met in the afternoon and gone back to his house while his parents were out. Afterwards, Layla asked him for
money, claiming she needed it to buy Christmas presents for her family. He gave her £30. Then she helped herself to a bottle of his father’s gin. She seemed to know every corner of the
house and everything in it.

‘I sort of realized then that she was totally out of control,’ Simon said. ‘It was like she only came round because she thought she could get stuff. Then I thought maybe Layla
was something to do with Mum’s car getting stolen—’

‘Hold on.’ Jenny paused from typing. ‘What happened with the car?’

‘It was back in October time. It was stolen off the drive one night – nothing special, it’s a VW Polo. About two weeks later, Mum realized the spare keys had gone
missing.’

‘It’s the first I’ve heard,’ Lever said. ‘Do you want me to fetch Mrs Grant?’

‘It can wait. Did you see Layla again?’ Jenny asked.

‘No.’ She texted a couple of times, but I ignored it. ‘Nicky texted as well, but I ignored her, too.’

‘What did Nicky want?’

‘It was just dumb remarks, trying to get me to message back.’

‘She was flirting with you?’

He shrugged. ‘I s’pose.’

‘Did you see Nicky again?’

‘No. It was just the messages.’

Jenny glanced back over the two pages she had typed. ‘You had sex with Layla in early September, and not again until the second week of last month.’

‘Yeah,’ Simon grunted.

‘You’re quite sure?’

‘Why would I lie about that?’

‘Did you know she was pregnant?’

‘No. Not till all this. Not surprised, though. I don’t think I was the only one she went with.’

Jenny recorded his words, prepared to accept that, given all she had learned about Layla, he was probably right.

Simon had nothing to add to what he had already told Alison concerning his whereabouts on the night of the fire. He had been at home with his parents, watching a film on television until shortly
after midnight. They had dimly heard the sound of sirens, but didn’t learn what had happened until the following morning, when a policeman knocked on their door to ask if they had seen
anything suspicious.

Jenny had one last question: ‘Did Layla or Nicky ever talk about what happened to Susie Ashton?’

‘No,’ Simon said, seemingly confused by the non sequitur. ‘I never heard them mention her.’

‘Can I assume a DNA test won’t now be necessary,’ Simon Lever said, as Jenny printed off three copies of the statement. ‘He’s admitted they had sex. He didn’t
know she was pregnant, and even if he had known, he was aware that he was only one of several potential fathers. What could possibly be gained from it?’

Jenny had to concede that he had a point. Now that Simon had admitted having sex with Layla on several occasions more than two months apart, and there was evidence that Layla had engaged in
sexual activity with other boys, there was no extra insight she or her jury could gain from knowing for certain whether or not he was the biological father of her child.

‘Point taken,’ Jenny said.

Simon and Lever exchanged a look of profound relief.

Leaving them to check the statement through before Simon signed, Jenny went into reception to speak to Mrs Grant, who looked up in alarm, as if fearing Simon had made a dreadful admission she
knew nothing about.

‘I’ve left him reading his statement,’ Jenny said. ‘He mentioned that you had a car stolen last October – a set of keys went missing from your house.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And you suspected Layla?’

‘She was the only person who had been in the house who I thought—’ She stopped herself. ‘It doesn’t seem right to be saying this now.’

‘But at the time, you thought she was capable of stealing?’

‘Well, if I’m honest,’ she glanced across at Alison as if fearing her judgement, ‘well, yes. She was a nice girl, but at the same time, sort of feral. If I thought she
was coming with Kelly, I’d always make sure there was nothing valuable lying about.’

‘And you remembered her stepfather stealing diesel from you,’ Alison chimed in from behind her desk, a judgemental note in her voice.

‘I suppose there was that,’ Emma Grant said.

‘What did the police say?’ Jenny asked.

‘They never found the car. I didn’t tell them about the keys – I didn’t want Kelly to get in any trouble. I thought she had enough on her plate.’ She glanced
anxiously towards the partially open door to Jenny’s office. ‘Will there be a DNA test?’

‘No. I don’t think that’ll be necessary.’

‘Oh. Good.’ Mrs Grant sighed with relief. It was one less social stigma to worry about.

Jenny sensed Alison bridle. She had taken against Mrs Grant – she had always harboured a special loathing for women she considered pampered – and was making a bad job of disguising
the fact.