DS Jessica Daniel series: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water – Books 4–6 (59 page)

‘Did you follow her?’ she asked.

‘I tried to but she walked off on her own and got in a car after separating from Ryan. I’ve got the number plate.’ Jessica noted it down and said she would contact him if she
managed to find anything out.

Because of the way rules had been tightened in recent years to prevent officers using various databases to check up on people they knew, Jessica wasn’t sure if she should look into the
number plate. Everything was traceable back to the person who made the request and, considering the information had come from Andrew – who was only working in an unofficial capacity –
Jessica was even more wary. Her concern lasted less than twenty seconds as she figured she would deal with any disciplinary problems if they arose at a later date. She doubted they would.

She was in the process of noting down the car owner’s name and address when Rowlands knocked and entered her office. ‘Have you got a minute, Jess?’

‘That depends who it’s for.’

The constable laughed. ‘Having a good day, are we?’

‘I’m as much a bundle of joy as always,’ Jessica replied, spreading her arms wide and offering him an over-the-top grin.

‘Are we still on for later?’

‘Yes but Iz told me to tell you to bring a balaclava.’

‘Why?’

‘Because if she’s going to introduce you to Amber, she doesn’t want the poor girl tortured by that face of yours.’

Jessica had always been a little scared of babies. The first fear was that she would somehow manage to break them. One time when she was in uniform, she had been sent to a
property to interview a potential suspect. The furious mother had asked the two officers if they could keep an eye on her ‘child’ while she went out to drag her wayward son back into
the house. What she hadn’t said was that the ‘child’ was actually a seven-month-old baby. With her colleague flatly refusing to touch it, Jessica was left cradling the little
girl.

The second fear was based on a far more irrational feeling that a child’s head was simply too big. She had read somewhere that you had the same size eyes as a baby as you did as a fully
grown adult. It sounded suspiciously made-up but, ever since, Jessica had been slightly creeped out by how large their heads were in comparison to the rest of their bodies.

As Izzy stood up from the reclining seat and offered Amber to Jessica, both of the fears jumped to the front of her mind at the same time.

‘It’s just a baby,’ Izzy said with a smile as she practically forced the child into Jessica’s arms.

Jessica cupped the child’s head with her elbow and awkwardly sat on the nearby sofa, thinking it would at least be less of a fall if she dropped the baby.

Rowlands was next to her, struggling to contain his laughter. ‘It’s just a kid, Jess, what do you think is going to happen?’

Izzy returned to her recliner, sighing loudly but grinning at the same time. ‘If you want to keep her for a day or two, feel free. I’ll just sleep.’

Jessica almost swore but had visions of Amber’s first word having four letters in it. ‘They’re pretty small, aren’t they?’

Both constables laughed. ‘What, babies?’ Izzy said. ‘What did you expect?’

‘I know they’re small, but not this small. Look at the fingers. They’re like real fingers just . . . littler.’

‘They’re still real fingers,’ Izzy pointed out. ‘They’re not glued on.’

Jessica realised she couldn’t think of a sensible way of putting it. She had seen babies before but rarely like this. ‘So what do they do when they’re this young?’ she
asked, thinking it was a reasonable question. She looked up to see Izzy staring at her, eyebrows arched, as if she were the child. ‘What?’ Jessica asked.

‘She’s a baby. She eats, she sleeps, she poos. She absorbs everything that’s going on around her. Then one day, she’ll be in her thirties and be able to ask stupid
questions about other babies.’

‘All right, forget it,’ Jessica said as Rowlands continued to laugh. She wanted to ask how long it would be before Amber would be walking but decided against it.

‘You’re thinking about the size of her eyes, aren’t you?’ Izzy said with a grin.

Jessica looked at the baby and then her friend. ‘I’ve told you about that?’

‘Lots of times. Apparently you reckoned one of your friends’ babies looked like an alien. And said it out loud.’

‘Er, yeah. That was a while ago.’ Jessica didn’t remember telling that story.

‘So what do you think?’ Izzy added.

‘Very nice. Very baby-like. Pretty much what I’d expected,’ Jessica said.

Izzy laughed. ‘I’m glad you said that. Everyone keeps saying she’s gorgeous and looks just like me and all that. She is gorgeous of course but I know people have to say
that.’

‘So how are you, Iz?’ Rowlands asked.

‘I’m all right. I thought I’d have Amber and want to be back at work straight away but I’m getting used to it now. It’s a full-time job with more poo and less
money. If you’re not directly looking after her, then you’re dealing with her clothes, or her food, or people are coming around to see her and so on.’

Amber gurgled slightly and Jessica peeked down at her, hoping she wasn’t going to be sick. Instead, the child continued to sleep peacefully. ‘How’s Mal?’ Jessica asked,
referring to Izzy’s husband.

Izzy smiled widely. Her long hair was usually dyed a bright red. It clearly hadn’t been done in a while as the sharp crimson colour was now more of a faded auburn. ‘Ha! I think
you’re the first person to ask about him in ages – and he’s not even here to appreciate it. He was half-moaning, half-joking about it last night. Even when his own mum came
around, all she wanted to do was fuss over Amber. I think he’s feeling a bit left out because everyone asks about me and the baby. He’s stuck making tea.’

Jessica looked at Rowlands and raised her eyebrows, being careful to support Amber’s head. ‘Are you taking notes? You’re the tea-maker.’

‘I don’t know why you’re telling me,’ he replied. ‘You’re going to be up the duff long before Chloe.’

‘Get out.’

‘You’re engaged and everything. What do you think is going to happen after that? One minute it’s church bells, the next it’s cribs and pushchairs. That’s the way it
goes.’

Jessica looked at Izzy, who shrugged. ‘I didn’t think I’d want kids. It was all Mal, my parents, his mum and so on who kept going on about it. But it’s nice . .
.’

Jessica thought about how things were going with Adam and her own unspoken concerns about marriage. Was her real worry not about getting married, but more about everything that would come
after?

She looked up to see Izzy staring at her with a small smile on her face, almost as if the constable had read her mind. ‘It’s all right, Jess,’ she said. ‘I’m sure
you’ll do your own thing. You always do.’

The new mother crouched next to Jessica and took Amber back before returning to her recliner. ‘So how are things at the station without me? I’ve noticed that society hasn’t
collapsed yet, which is slightly disappointing.’

Jessica was somewhat relieved to not be holding the baby any longer. She loosened her shoulders. ‘Dave spent two days moaning last week because I gave him a list of names to compile and
cross-check, so he’s definitely missing you.’

Rowlands was scowling. ‘I knew you two would gang up on me if I came along. I wasn’t moaning – it’s just that you do it so much . . . better, Iz.’

Izzy gently rocked her child, nodding in acknowledgement. ‘At least me being here means you actually have to do something, you lazy sod.’

‘Is bullying really something you want to be teaching Amber?’ he replied.

‘If she grows up to pick on you, then yes,’ Izzy said with a grin. After a moment, she turned to face Jessica. ‘I’ve seen bits and pieces on the news and so on. Is there
really a suicide ring out there?’

Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘Of course there’s not. We’re looking into it all but there’s nothing to suggest it.’

‘What about the fires? Are you on that too?’

‘Sort of. Jason has been dealing with it really. I just float around annoying him. I don’t know how much you’ve been following it but everything has come so quick. I was
escorting Martin Chadwick out of prison one minute and now we have had two fires and a close call.’

Izzy looked down at Amber. ‘Where was the attempted one?’

‘Anthony Thompson’s – the guy whose son died. Everything seems to be connected to everything else but I can’t figure out exactly how.’

‘Do you think Martin’s involved then?’

Jessica sighed. ‘I wish I knew. Jason says there’s something in Chadwick’s past where his old school burned down but we don’t have anything to suggest it might be him. It
was years ago but it all builds a picture. I guess we’re just watching and waiting for something else to happen.’

‘You know how to pick ’em, don’t you?’ Izzy said.

Jessica laughed. ‘I’m thinking of retiring early to a sleepy little village in the back end of nowhere. My mum and dad took me for tea to this little place called Martindale in the
Lake District the other week. Not much seemed to be going on there.’

Rowlands snorted. ‘You’d be bored within a week.’

‘I know . . .’

‘What I don’t get is what someone gains,’ Izzy said. ‘I only know what you’ve told me and what I’ve seen on TV and so on. With most things we get involved
with, there’s always a clear motive, even if we haven’t quite figured it all out. Usually it’s revenge or something like that. But who gains from this? Houses burning down, all
the suspicion being pointed from Martin to Anthony and back again. No one’s winning here.’

Jessica didn’t know how to reply because her friend was right. If it was Martin or Ryan who was involved – or even Anthony – they were each ultimately going to lose. Sienna and
Molly’s parents had already lost.

‘We should probably go,’ Jessica said, standing up. Izzy started to get up but Jessica motioned for her to remain sitting. ‘You stay there. We’ll let ourselves out and
come back soon.’

Jessica kissed the constable on the forehead and Rowlands gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘See ya, Iz,’ he said.

As they walked out of the house, Jessica felt her phone begin to vibrate in her pocket. She didn’t need to answer it to know it was going to be bad news.

When she first met him, Jessica thought Martin’s wrinkles and thinning hair made him look older than his fifty years. For some reason, the large dark bruises around his
eye and bandaged wound on his forehead seemed to de-age him. As he sat up in his hospital bed and tried to smile, Jessica could see the muscles twitching in his face as he forced himself not to
wince.

‘We can leave you and come back if you’d prefer?’ Jessica offered.

Martin shook his head slightly. ‘I’d rather do it now so I can get some sleep.’

Jessica sat next to the bed, Rowlands perching next to her with a pad and pen. ‘Can you start by telling us what you remember?’ she asked.

He closed his eyes and sighed. ‘I’d been out for the day and was on my way back to the hotel.’

‘Where had you been?’ At first Martin said nothing but then he looked away from Jessica, unable to meet her eyes. ‘Have you started drinking again?’ she persisted.

His voice was quieter than before. ‘I’ve tried not to . . .’

Jessica thought about their conversation in the van and how Martin had said stopping drinking had helped him sort his life out.

‘Why did you start again?’ she asked, knowing it wasn’t really any of her business.

‘It’s not as easy as you think. When you’re inside, everything’s decided for you. Out here, you have to start making decisions. Then, with the fire at the house and
everything . . .’

Jessica realised there was little point in dwelling on something that was going to upset him – at least not until she had the information she needed. ‘Okay, so you were out for a
drink. Were you on your own?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you were making your way back to the hotel . . . what happened then?’

‘The hotel they’ve got us in is in the centre but I was out at this place Longsight way. I was going to get the bus but thought I’d walk it off. I was most of the way back.
There’s this alley opposite the hotel next to a coffee place. I was cutting through and felt something hit me from behind.’

Jessica already knew he had been found barely metres from the hotel in a pool of his own blood. Even though he was resting on it, she could see a bandage at the rear of his skull. ‘What
else do you remember?’

Martin shook his head. ‘Not too much. I fell forward and hit my eye on the kerb.’ He reached up to touch the blackened area. ‘I think someone kicked me but . . . that’s
it.’

‘Did you see anyone or hear anything? Maybe you passed someone on your way into the alleyway?’

‘No.’

‘How about your route home? Have you been cutting through the same spot more than once recently?’

‘I guess. Why?’ Martin was beginning to speak more slowly, his words slurring into each other.

‘If someone had been watching you over a period of days, they might have known that was the way you were going to return to the hotel.’

‘You think someone could have been following me?’

‘I don’t know. Have you seen anything suspicious in recent days?’

Martin seemed embarrassed by his response. ‘I’m not always aware of it all . . .’

Jessica thought the sobering nature of his words jarred strongly with the way they overlapped each other, almost as if he were thinking more quickly than his body would allow him to talk.

‘Do you know of anyone who might want to harm you?’

Martin met Jessica’s eyes, as if putting the name ‘Anthony Thompson’ telepathically in her mind. He never said the words but the implication was there.

‘I didn’t see anyone,’ he said, as if following up his unspoken suggestion with the acknowledgement that he felt as if he deserved what had happened to him.

‘You can say if you know who did it,’ Jessica assured him.

He shook his head. ‘I didn’t see anyone.’

Jessica could see the same guilt in his eyes as when they had shared the back of the van together. She didn’t know what else they could get from him. An additional, more formal statement
might be taken at some point but, if he continued to insist he hadn’t seen anyone, there was very little they could do other than check the CCTV cameras in the vicinity. She didn’t
expect them to reveal the attacker.