“Big night, is it?”
“Callum . . .”
“Got something nice in store for him, have you?”
“Watch your mouth,” Denise replied, her anger colliding with a strange and unnecessary sense of shame. What did she have to be ashamed about? She was a single woman, with many good years left inher; why shouldn’t she seek out a little affection? A little love? She got precious little from her own family.
“Now shift before I say something I regret,” she continued, bending to pick up the discarded magazines. “Come on, out!”
Still he didn’t move. Denise could usually predict his every thought, his every action—he was her only child and she had spent her whole adult life raising him. But something was different about him today. He was unreadable.
“Why do you let him come here?” Callum said suddenly. “He treats you like shit and still you go back for more.”
“He does not—”
“He’s a parasite. He takes what he wants and if you ever stick up for yourself, then—”
“That was just the once.”
“Still hurt, though, didn’t it? If you had any self-respect, you’d shut the door on him.”
“Callum, I’m warning you—”
“It’shimthat needs the warning, not me. Why do you go on protecting him? Why can’t you see what he is?”
Denise braced herself for more abuse—there was a fire in her son’s eyes today—but Callum just stared at her. Then, dropping his eyes, he said:
“I pity you.”
Hurt now punched through Denise’s anger—Callum had never spoken to her like that before, despite their many rows. She didn’t know what to say. What was the right way to respond to your son’s contempt?
Callum was now marching toward the front door. Denise stood frozen in place, but the sound of the latch lifting prompted her to action and she hurried after him.
“Don’t you talk to me like that. Don’t you ever talk to me like that!” she called after his retreating form. But he was already halfway down the street and didn’t look back—her anger had fallen on deaf ears.
She slammed the door shut, then stalked along the corridor into the kitchen. Her nerves were already shattered and it was only midmorning. Would Callum stay out as she’d requested? Or would he return later to deliberately sabotage her evening? Denise could feel her anxiety rising, so she reached over and looked for her cigarettes in her bag. She pulled out her work pass, her phone, her makeup—but there was no sign of her cigarettes.Little bastard,she thought to herself. It had been virtually a full packet—she’d bought them only yesterday morning. Her son was a thief as well as a slob, it seemed. Muttering to herself, she started tidying and cleaning the house, but her mind continued to turn on the missing cigarettes. Just one more crime to add to her son’s growing rap sheet.
19
“For God’s sake, do something. There’s a little girl in there. Where are those bloody fire engines?”
The woman looked crazed and desperate, scanning the horizon wildly for blue flashing lights. Sanderson paused the footage to study the scene, then wound it forward, stopping at intervals to study faces, expressions and body language. She had been at it for several hours now, trawling through the amateur footage from the fires, and it was beginning to get to her. Not just because of the fear and anxiety etched on the faces of many of the onlookers, but also because of the blank expressions on many of the others’. These gawpers exhibited nothing more than a casual curiosity—as if a dead woman or a family home reduced to rubble might be momentarily diverting.
“Found anything?”
Sanderson turned to see Helen Grace standing next to her. She had an alarming way of approaching without making a noise, leavingyou no time to put on your professional face. Sanderson managed to stifle a yawn—the viewing suite was airless and hot—before bringing her boss up to speed.
“Nothing so far. I’ve done Travell’s and I’m halfway through the Millbrook footage. Lots of people keen to have a look but no one displaying any overt signs of excitement. Just the opposite if anything.”
“Recognize any faces?”
Sanderson shook her head.
“What about our local arsonists? Have we run them down?” Helen continued.
“We’ve got seven on our list—all of whom have committed fire-related offenses in the county in the past twelve months. The majority of them did it for insurance fraud and the others are just kids. We’ve chased down four—verifiable alibis so far—and we’re onto the last three. But there’s no one on the list who’s attempted anything of this magnitude before.”
“Keep trying. Also let’s run a national search to see if there have been any other instances of coordinated arson attacks in the last two to three years. This guy’s MO is pretty specific, not to mention well executed. I’d say he’s had practice.”
