Despite the destruction, I sigh with huge relief. They’re safe – that’s all that really matters. But who would do such a thing? The idea that someone would go to such extremes is incomprehensible. Who would deliberately set fire to the house? It just doesn’t make any sense.
‘Off the record, it’s possible that it was the eco-warriors. You know, the ones who live in the woods – tricky folks to catch a glimpse of, and you can never be too sure when they’ll rear their heads. And just when you think nothing is going to happen… Boom! They certainly know how to grab your attention when you’re least expecting it.’ She gestured towards the smoking house with her head.
‘We have no reason to believe it was them – we’ve never had any issues with them, and they’ve never posed any threat to us before…’
Sergeant Brennan lifts her eyebrow and states, ‘It’s your call,’ as she skims the tip of the pen over her nose. ‘In that case, any other potential suspects in the area who may want to harm you?’ she asks.
James and I exchange a glance; his eyes are laced with concern and confusion, a mirror of my feelings. I stammer, struggling to catch my breath. ‘I can’t think of anyone who would do something as drastic as this…’
It’s clear that Stephen McDonagh isn’t fond of me, but I find it hard to believe he would go as far as this – especially after being reprimanded by James. Also, would he really put his two stepsons at risk? He’s certainly a potential suspect, but something doesn’t add up about him being the perpetrator. Sofor now, I’m going to keep his name out of the conversation in order not to lead the investigation off course. We’ll allow the police to do their job, and we’ll focus on ours.
James nods, his face a mixture of disbelief and heartbreak. ‘Neither can I,’ he admits, his voice cracking.
We look back at the smouldering remains of the house, the beautiful space we worked so hard on transforming into a home taken from us in a matter of hours.
I have to find out who did this.
I feel my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of the situation. The flames are almost gone now, but thick, black smoke is still billowing into the sky.
‘I’m so sorry this has turned out the way it has, Daisy,’ Jonathan says, his head bowed. ‘If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.’
Dom attempts to put on a brave face. ‘We’ll do all that we can to help, Daisy,’ he promises. ‘And whoever did this, we’ll make sure they’re brought to justice. I’ve never seen the like in Innisfree.’
James clears his throat, his face still pale from shock. ‘Thank you for your help tonight, officer. We’ll talk to our friends and family, see if anyone has any information to pass on.’
I chime in with a final question, hoping for more clues on the perpetrator. ‘One last thing, officer. What kind of car did the boys say it was?’
‘They couldn’t give us an exact make or model, just that it was small, and it drove away so quickly that they likened it to acartooncar,’ Sergeant Brennan says hesitantly, as if trying to temper our expectations. ‘Kids, eh?’
‘It’s not much to go on,’ Dom sighs, his shoulders slumping.
‘And with the boys being the only eyewitnesses and it being dark, them half-asleep, the car speeding off… it’s hardlysomething we can move forward with,’ she says, shaking her head.
‘Did they mention any specific cartoon?’ I ask.
Sergeant Brennan looks at me with her eyes wide open and starts laughing as if my query is the most bizarre thing she’s ever heard related to an arson investigation.
She leafs back through her notebook. ‘Ah, yes.’ She nods. ‘Here it is – they said it was like Luigi fromCars.’ She gives an apologetic shrug.
‘Could I have your pen and a piece of paper?’ I ask.
Sergeant Brennan nods solemnly, and I quickly start sketching out the character the boys mentioned. Whilst I’m not too up to date on car models, when it comes to popular characters in children’s movies, there’s nobody who knows their stuff better than me. I just hope that my drawing has enough detail that someone else can make out the design.
The sun is rising as we bounce along a gravel road to the O’Connor family home. We’ve escaped The Lake House with our lives, and that’s all that matters. For now.
After what feels like an eternity, the car skids to a halt in front of a small cottage between the trees. Jonathan jumps out and gallantly offers us both his arm as we step out of the car. Inside, we clean up, warm up and rest up to get our strength back. Then we’ll turn our attention to who did this.
I wake up after midday and pad down the hallway to find James and his father in the kitchen. Jonathan offers me an array of bread and buns, and James puts on the kettle. But I can’t eat or drink anything. I can’t think about anything else other than who would try to burn down The Lake House. ‘Any updates?’ I ask.
Jonathan nods solemnly.
‘My contact at the fire station informed me it was arson – a home-made paraffin fire-starter was used to start the blaze that spread all over the barn and then on to the house.’
I show James the sketch I made. He takes the drawing and studies it carefully, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. ‘I think this is a Fiat 500,’ he says, turning the paper in his hands. ‘Quite rare around these parts, don’t you think, Dad?’
Jonathan glances at the sketch. ‘Yes, it looks like the little run-around the McDonaghs have parked in their driveway. They’re the only ones around here with an old Fiat that I know of.’
James and I glance at each other, gears simultaneously clicking in our heads.
