“We’re just trying to establish a full and accurate picture of the family situation.”
“The family situation?” Thomas replied incredulously.
“So we can ascertain why your house was targeted,” Helencontinued, unabashed. “We’re not judging anyone or prying, but we do need to know what was happening in your lives.”
“Best do this now, Thomas,” Charlie interjected softly. “Then we can leave you alone to support your family. If there was any reason why someone might have targete—”
“What makes you think it wasn’t random?” was the assertive response. “You see it all the time on the news. Messed-up kids, setting things alight because they’ve had a rough time or are bored or—”
“That may well be the case, but there are several aspects of this attack that suggest otherwise. Petty acts of vandalism are seldom carried out on residential properties. It’s nearly always derelict buildings, playgrounds, schools—somewhere out of the way where there’s no CCTV, no possible witnesses. Family homes are very rarely targeted randomly.”
For once Thomas Simms had no comeback.
“Furthermore, whoever attacked your house broke in. They had to access your garden first—which presented a risk—then they had to break the glass in the back door, while people were at home. In setting the fire centrally within the house, they took another risk—all of which indicates that this was not a random crime. Whoever did this was organized and determined, and I would suggest had probably scoped out the house beforehand. They appear to have been very committed to targeting your house, despite the very real possibility of discovery and apprehension.”
Helen let her words settle. The strain was showing now on Thomas, and Helen didn’t want to break him with a barrage of questions or insinuations. She had to proceed but needed to do so cautiously—it was horrifying to have to process the idea that someone had gone to such effort to decimate your family. Simms sat silent now, rubbing his face with his hands. Already the fight had gone out of him and Helen knew from many years of interrogating suspects that this was her opportunity.
“We’ve discussed the difficulties your business faced—none ofthem of your own making—and the way you maximized your credit to stay afloat.”
“We know you took your responsibilities to your staff very seriously,” Charlie said, overlapping. “Many of them had families just like you and they needed to be paid. But the money just wasn’t there, was it?”
A beat, then Thomas nodded.
“What were you going to do?” Charlie continued softly. “How were you going to keep going?”
There was a long pause as Thomas Simms struggled for an answer. Then:
“Keep digging.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Keep digging myself a bigger fucking hole to jump into.”
“I don’t follow, Thomas. What do you mean by that?” Charlie prompted. She could tell Helen was following the conversation intently, waiting for Thomas Simms’s next move.
Another long pause. A furious internal debate seemed to be taking place within the bereaved husband. Charlie half expected a bitter “No comment,” but then suddenly Thomas blurted out:
“I kept borrowing, didn’t I?”
“More credit cards?” Helen replied.
“No. I... I couldn’t get any more. Too many unpaid bills. Bad credit history.”
The bitterness oozed from him. Helen could tell he blamed the moneymen for his current predicament.
“Who did you borrow from, Thomas?” Helen pressed gently but insistently. “Those unaccounted-for cash payments—where did they—”
“A loan shark,” Thomas interrupted. “A bloody loan shark.”
His face was turned to the floor—the full extent of his shame was now becoming clear.
“We’ll need a name,” Helen said as neutrally as she could. The mere mention of loan sharks had her alarm bells ringing.
“I can’t give you a name.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
