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Authors: M. R. Hall

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BOOK: The Burning
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Dr Kerr nodded.

‘Has the mother formally ID’d her yet?’

‘No, they brought the father down,’ Dr Kerr said. ‘He’s a patient in the hospital.’

‘I know,’ Jenny said bleakly. ‘I probably ought to pay him a visit.’

He was standing upright, dressed in a towelling robe and pyjamas and staring out of the day-room window at the snow-covered roofs of the nearby business park. Jenny closed the
door behind her, shutting out the noise of the busy corridor.

‘Mr Brooks?’

He half turned his shaved head. Large patches of his face were badly scabbed and blistered, but it was no longer enclosed in dressings. His forearms and hands remained tightly wrapped in
bandages from which only his fingertips protruded.

‘I’m so sorry.’

He turned his gaze back to the window.

She gave him a moment. ‘Do you know what happened?’

‘Sandra drove out to the shops this morning. When she came back, she called Nicky down for her breakfast. She didn’t answer.’

‘Do you have any idea why she did it?’

He shook his head, then dipped it towards his chest as if the effort of holding it upright was too much. ‘Excuse me.’ He lowered himself stiffly into a chair, grimacing at the pain
in his arms. He hauled them onto his lap like wooden appendages and stared, unfocused, at the opposite wall. ‘If there’s something you want to ask, just get it over with.’

‘Could Nicky have known something about Ed Morgan? Could he have been involved with other people, people who might have put pressure on her?’

He swivelled his eyes towards her. ‘What do you mean?’

There was no gentle way of putting it. ‘You must know the rumours as well as I do.’

‘You mean Ed got himself a beautiful woman to cover up what he was really into?’

‘I hadn’t quite thought of it that way, but yes – what do you think?’

‘Never known a man live a quieter life,’ Brooks said in scarcely more than a whisper. ‘Could never understand what it was held them together.’

Jenny pressed a little harder. ‘You were never suspicious?’

He reflected for a moment. ‘You’d wonder about him. Spent a lot of time alone. Never spoke a word more than he had to—’

‘Wonder what?’

‘What went on in his head . . . What Kelly saw in him.’

‘Nicky told me she didn’t mind his company.’

‘She liked Ed. Had more problem with me than she did with him. Never got angry, she said. “Peaceful”, she called him.’

‘Did you and your wife truly know your daughter, Mr Brooks?’

‘I thought we did.’

Brooks’s face creased with pain. Jenny had pushed him as far as she humanely could.

‘I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Brooks. I really am.’ She turned to go.

As she laid a hand on the door, he said: ‘You still think I started that fire?’

‘No,’ Jenny said quietly, and left him alone to grieve.

‘It’s as I thought – no alcohol, no drugs. She did it with a clear head.’ Dr Kerr had stepped outside the autopsy room to save Jenny the ordeal of
seeing Nicky’s body a second time. ‘She knew what she was doing. I suspect she’d been thinking about it for a while, probably researching online.’

‘No other signs of violence? Previous injuries?’

‘Nothing of note. And no evidence of sexual interference. No abrasions or lesions. She was having her period. The tampon was still in place.’

Jenny swallowed against the feeling of nausea that had returned during the course of the afternoon, in a milder echo of what she had experienced the week before. There was no doubting she had
grown more squeamish. The very smells and sounds of the mortuary set her on edge. It was probably nature’s way of encouraging her to withdraw from danger to make a safe nest somewhere. There
was little chance of that.

‘Have you talked to the police yet?’

‘Just about to. Do I pretend we haven’t spoken?’

‘Who will it be – Ryan? He’s all right.’

‘You trust that man? I don’t.’

Dr Kerr’s bluntness took Jenny by surprise. He was normally polite about detectives, deferential even.

‘Any particular reason?’

‘The way he dresses, for one thing. All front and no back, as my mother would have said.’

‘I’ll let you into a secret, Andy – women quite like that nowadays. Ask Jasmine.’

Jenny felt her phone vibrate in her coat pocket. She pulled it out and saw that it was Alison calling.

‘She feels the same way,’ Dr Kerr said, refusing to lighten up.

‘Well, if he gives you any grief, let me know.’ Jenny gave him a smile and headed out along the corridor. She switched her attention to the call. ‘Alison, hi.’

‘Where are you? I thought you’d be back at the office.’ Alison sounded indignant.

‘I called in at the mortuary.’

‘And you didn’t think I could be trusted to know that?’

‘It’s not that, I just—’

Alison cut her off: ‘I’ve had Family Liaison chasing us. They don’t know what to tell Kelly Hart about the inquest.’

‘I’d better call in and talk to her on my way back.’

‘In that case, there’s something you might want to ask her. I’ve got an email from Bob Bream here – Ed Morgan’s boss at the Forestry. He says his office supplied
Ed’s shotgun shells and only ever ordered size 4. They’re a heavier gauge, apparently – 3.3 mm. He says Ed preferred them for shooting small stuff and that when he hunted deer he
did it with a rifle, not a shotgun.’

‘OK, I’ll try her with it.’

‘Oh, and DI Ryan’s after you, too.’

‘What does he want?’

‘Didn’t say, but I can guess. His super will want to know when you’re going to get your inquest over with.’

‘That rather depends, doesn’t it?’

‘Bummer of a job he’s been landed with, poor fella,’ Alison said dryly. ‘He must be wondering who’s next.’

Jenny recognized the black Toyota parked outside Kelly’s block as Ryan’s. She touched the bonnet as she passed by – it was warm. She guessed he’d been
tipped off to her visit by Family Liaison, which must have meant that special lines of communication had been set up so that the whole team could keep tabs on her. They really were becoming
paranoid.

It was Kelly’s voice on the intercom, but Ryan who came to the front door of the flat. He stepped out onto the landing as she approached, looking flustered.

‘Might want to give her a moment. She’s upset.’ He stood in front of the entrance, keeping Jenny outside.

‘Who was it told you I’d be here?’ Jenny asked. ‘Not that it particularly matters, but if the police feel the need to watch my every move it doesn’t exactly inspire
trust.’

‘No one,’ Ryan said, feigning innocence. ‘I just came by to ask a few questions.’ He was a bad liar. ‘You’ve suspended the inquest?’

‘For the time being.’

He nodded, with that thoughtful, enigmatic look of his. He turned and called back through the door. ‘Are you all right to see us now, Kelly?’

Her answered travelled faintly back along the hall. ‘Yeah. I’m OK.’

‘I think it’s finally beginning to sink in,’ Ryan said as he stepped aside to let Jenny in. ‘It had to happen some time.’

She was sitting at the small kitchen table clutching a Kleenex, and didn’t look up as Jenny said hello. The atmosphere in the room was thick with emotion. After eleven days of keeping it
inside her, the dam had finally burst.

‘Do you mind if I sit down?’ Jenny asked.

Kelly shrugged.

Jenny sat opposite her. Ryan leaned against the kitchen counter, not wanting to crowd her.

‘I’ve had to suspend the inquest while we find out what happened to Nicky,’ Jenny said. ‘It looks like suicide, but even so, seeing as she was such an important witness,
I have to know her reasons.’ Kelly nodded, but Jenny couldn’t be sure if she had understood or not. ‘Nicky gave a statement last week saying she was at your house earlier on the
evening of the fire. She said she left about eight. She was probably the last person to see them all alive. You understand how important that is?’

‘Yeah,’ Kelly whispered. She swept back the hair that had fallen across her face, revealing an expression that seemed tormented with questions. Jenny could see that she was replaying
the events of the evening, trying to slot them all together.

‘Do you mind if I ask a few questions about Nicky?’ Jenny said.

‘Sure.’

Jenny took her legal pad from her bag, ignoring Ryan’s frown.

‘Nicky wasn’t at the house when you left for work?’

‘No. She must have come round after.’

‘She said she was at your house most days during the school holidays.’

‘That’s right.’

‘But what she didn’t say was how things were between her and Layla.’

Kelly didn’t respond immediately. Jenny let the question hang.

‘How do you mean?’ Kelly said eventually.

‘Fourteen’s a turbulent age, especially for girls. All sorts of emotions swirling around. Did they get on? Did they ever argue?’

‘Sometimes, I suppose.’

‘Over what?’

Kelly shrugged. ‘This and that. Nothing in particular.’

Jenny tried another tack. ‘How did they communicate when they weren’t together – were they always messaging on their phones?’

Kelly nodded. ‘It’s what all kids do, isn’t it?’

Jenny glanced at Ryan. ‘Any sign of Nicky’s phone?’

‘Yeah. We think we found it – in the woodstove downstairs.’

‘She put it there?’

‘The mother didn’t. At least, she says she didn’t.’

Jenny turned back to Kelly and saw that this information seemed to have rocked her even further off her moorings.

‘Have you any idea what she might have been hiding?’ Jenny asked. ‘Do you know if Nicky had anything to be ashamed of?’

‘She and Kelly would argue,’ Kelly said distantly. ‘Sometimes it got ugly. Doors slamming, shouting, calling each other names . . . Then five minutes later they’d be best
friends again.’

‘What were these arguments about?’ Jenny asked.

‘I never paid much attention.’

Jenny didn’t believe her, but knew that now wasn’t the right moment to set herself up as an antagonist. She needed to preserve Kelly’s trust.

‘Sandra Brooks told me about an incident last year with the four boys over at your house. She wasn’t sure if Ed had ever told you.’

‘He didn’t. Layla told me. She felt guilty. Scared herself, I think.’

‘Did that cause any bad feeling between them? Nicky told me it was Layla who was leading the way.’

‘She would’ve, wouldn’t she?’

‘What was Layla’s version?’

‘I think they were as bad as each other.’

‘Look, Kelly, I don’t want to make connections where there aren’t any, but it does sound like one of those incidents that could have had a lasting effect on both of them. It
doesn’t take a lot to upset a young mind.’

‘No. They didn’t care about those boys.’

Something in Kelly’s tone told Jenny she was getting close to something.

‘What happened with them, exactly?’ Ryan asked.

Jenny held up a hand. ‘Hold on. Kelly, are you saying there
was
something they cared about?’

Kelly’s perfect features creased with emotion. Her eyes filled with tears that spilled silently down her cheeks, skirted her lips and dripped onto the table.

‘What is it?’ Jenny prompted.

‘Simon Grant . . . Nicky was jealous. Wouldn’t let Layla go near him.’

‘And they argued about him?’

Kelly nodded, wiping away more tears.

Jenny tried to remember what it had felt like to be a fourteen-year-old girl, overwhelmed with volcanic emotions that were constantly searching for an object on which to focus. ‘Do you
think it was a big enough thing between them to have made Nicky kill herself?’

‘I heard them yelling at each other a few days before Christmas,’ Kelly said. ‘Nicky was saying Layla would have to choose between their friendship and Simon. It was stupid
– don’t think he was that interested in either of them.’

‘But he did have sex with Layla.’

Kelly sighed in a way that only a mother could. ‘Sometimes dealing with Layla was like dealing with a crazy person. You didn’t know what she was going to do from one minute to the
next. Nor did she. Nicky wasn’t like that. She was more serious, stuck with things. Like her dad, I suppose.’

Jenny felt the muscles in her throat tighten, the physical sensation of dread preceding the thought that followed it. ‘Nicky didn’t know about the gunshots. All she knew was that
there had been a fire. Do you think it’s possible that Nicky thought Layla might have started the fire? . . . And that she had somehow pushed her to it?’

Kelly looked at Ryan with wide, startled eyes, then at Jenny. She didn’t need to say a word.

‘I’d better talk to Simon Grant,’ Jenny said. ‘Let’s not jump to any conclusions.’

She made a note in her legal pad and slotted it back into her briefcase. Her limbs felt suddenly weak. The thought of Nicky killing herself over a mistaken sense of guilt had landed like a
sickening blow and left her reeling.

She willed herself to remain composed. ‘I’m sorry, Kelly – it may take a few days for the police to finish their inquiries and for me to have all the evidence we need to
continue with the inquest. I’ll move as quickly as I can. It can’t be helped.’

Jenny stood up from the table on legs that were reluctant to support her weight. She wanted badly to leave and be alone with her thoughts, but could see that Ryan wanted another private word.
She was almost at the door when she belatedly remembered what Alison had told her on the phone. ‘There’s something else I meant to ask you – you don’t happen to know where
Ed got his shotgun shells from?’

Kelly searched her memory but could bring nothing to mind.

‘Do you recall him going out and buying them, or did he get them from work?’

Kelly shook her head. ‘I couldn’t really tell you. I know he kept all that stuff out the back.’

‘Did he have two locked cabinets?’ Ryan asked. ‘One for the gun, and one for the shot?’

‘I think so,’ Kelly answered uncertainly.

‘Get in touch if you remember,’ Jenny said. ‘It would be useful to know.’

‘Ha. I almost said I’ll ask Layla.’ Kelly looked up with a tragic expression that made Jenny want to hold her in her arms.

BOOK: The Burning
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