Up in Flames
| Up in Flames |
| Casey & Catt [1] |
| Evans, Geraldine |
| UK |
| (2003) |
When Chandra Bansi and her baby are burnt to death, the police are
anxious to get their race relations right. DCI Casey and his less than
politically correct sergeant rapidly come under pressure from their
superintendent to put a couple of skinhead thugs behind bars. But there
are other, stranger possibilities--and Casey has some less than
conventional ways of examining them...
A
Casey and Catt mystery novel
Geraldine Evans
Copyright 2003 Geraldine Evans
Publisher’s Note: This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Discover other titles by Geraldine Evans at
http://www.geraldineevans.com
Cover design by Cheryl Casey Ramirez
All Rights Reserved.
OTHER BOOKS BY GERALDINE EVANS
Rafferty and Llewellyn mystery series
Dead Before Morning
Down Among the Dead Men
Death Line
The Hanging Tree
Absolute Poison
Dying For You
Bad Blood
Love Lies Bleeding
Blood on the Bones
A Thrust to the Vitals
Death Dues
All the Lonely People
Death Dance
Deadly Reunion
Kith and Kill
Casey and Catt mystery series
Up in Flames
A Killing Karma
Historical Novel
Reluctant Queen
About the little sister of Henry VIII
Romantic Novel
Land of Dreams
REVIEW
FOR UP IN FLAMES
'Well researched. Intriguing plot. Good pace. Excellent characterisation and wry humour make this a very enjoyable read. Highly recommended.'
Mystery Women
REVIEWS FOR GERALDINE EVANS’ OTHER NOVELS
DYING FOR YOU
STARRED REVIEW FROM KIRKUS
‘Evans brings wit and insight to this tale of looking for love in all the wrong places.’
EUROCRIME
‘It’s bad enough being suspected of a double murder, worse still when it’s your alter ego being pursued and it’s the pits when you are the policeman in charge of supposedly catching yourself. I thoroughly enjoyed Dying For You, the sixth in the series. A lot of humour is injected in Rafferty’s narrative. He’s got himself in an impossible situation and one wonders what can go wrong next. I savoured this book and am keen to read the rest in the series asap.’
THE HANGING TREE
‘Great book! A wonderfully entertaining read. All the clues are there, set out honestly and fairly, yet the identity of the killer still comes as a surprise. I got one of those "of course - I should have known!" moments at the denouement. Crime writing at its best.’
REVIEW OF THE HANGING TREE BY JAMES GRACIE
ABSOLUTE POISON
‘Well, this was a real find. Geraldine Evans knows how to make a character leap off the pages at you.’
LIZZIE HAYES, MYSTERY WOMEN
‘An ingeniously constructed plot, deft dialogue, well-drawn characters, and a few humorous touches, make this an enjoyably intriguing read.’
EMILY MELTON, BOOKLIST
First in the Casey and Cat mystery series
When Chandra Bansi and her baby, Leela, are burn
ed to death, DCI ‘Will’ Casey and his less than politically correct sergeant, Thomas Catt, rapidly come under pressure from their superintendent to put a couple of skinhead thugs behind bars for arson. But Casey had more questions than the jailing of the skinheads will provide answers to.
His investigation is not helped when his hippie parents decide they need a temporary new home and decamp to Casey’s doorstep.
And when it comes to Chandra’s family, just how respectable is Chandra’s businessman father and her vindictive in-laws? Chandra was a modern young woman who was caught uncomfortably between two cultures. It’s hard to say which of them is the more dangerous.
Table of Contents
Geraldine Evans’ Other Novels on Kindle
The Rafferty and Llewellyn procedural series
The blue idol in the corner of the room was untouched by the fire. While
delicate fingers held the silver flute to his lips his painted eyes gazed serenely down on the still-twitching form of the young woman on the floor. The once-shapely limbs were now blackened. The glorious fall of silky dark hair was now a rusty stubble.
As the idol watched, languorous flames began to caress the bright cartoon transfers on the white-painted cot. Above the quickly-snuffed out whimpers of the deeply-sleeping infant could be heard the distant clanging of fire engines.
The fire flickered up the curtains. More hungry now, the tongue of flame licked across the ceiling. Molten plaster dropped on to the figure on the floor. The young woman’s body lifted slightly, gave what sounded like a sigh, then settled and lay still.
Through it all, the flute-playing idol played on; his sweet, silent music a poignant serenade.
The fire had been quickly extinguished. The neighbours, who had been evacuated by the firemen, had been allowed to return to their homes by the time DCI ‘Will’ Casey’s car, with DS Thomas Catt at the wheel, edged its way forward.
The row of small, Victorian terraced houses was situated in a narrow side road on the outskirts of the eastern market town of King’s Langley and the fire brigade vehicles were lined up in the middle of it. With the area car parked across the road behind the fire engines, they could drive no further. Catt pulled up and parked neatly beside the police car. As they climbed out, they silently took in the chaotic scene.
Beyond the firemen in their bright yellow helmets, milling around as they stowed their gear, Casey caught a glimpse of the uniformed officers from the area car. They were keeping the crowd of neighbourhood onlookers herded out of the way at the far end of the street. The hoses from the Brigade’s vehicles writhed like snakes across the pavement ready to trip the unwary. Great puddles lay in front of the blackened ruin in the middle of the terrace. Incongruously, the puddles reflected only the brilliant blue of the August sky.
Casey straightened the jacket of his plain, sombre-hued suit as he gave a tiny, approving nod. The scene might look chaotic, but it was an organised chaos. Beneath the surface confusion, Casey recognised the quiet competence of well-oiled routine. What a pity it had been in vain.
Gus Freeman, the Assistant Divisional Fire Officer, approached them. Soot streaked rakishly across one eye, giving him a piratical air, but under the grime, his normally cheerful face was strained.
‘Chief.’ After exchanging the brief greeting, Casey got straight to the point. ‘I gather you’ve got two bodies?’
Freeman nodded. ‘One adult. One infant. Asians, according to the neighbour.’
Casey’s green eyes shadowed at this news. He offered up a little prayer that this latest fire proved accidental. But after the recent spate of arson attacks on local Asian families he wasn’t optimistic. He steeled himself and voiced the question he had been worrying at since he’d first heard about the latest fire. ‘Was it arson?’
The arson attacks had caused a furore in the town. Fortunately, until now, there had been no fatalities. Anxiety had made Casey’s question come out sharply, but the Fire Chief didn’t take offence. They had come to respect one another, even though Casey, at thirty-five, was ten years younger than the Fire Chief and with his quiet, unconsciously puritan air and immaculate dark suit he was in stark contrast to the large, normally ebullient and slightly scruffy Chief, the pair got on well.
‘Arson’s a possibility,’ Freeman admitted. ‘One of the neighbours, a Mrs Angela Neerey, from number 7a, next door but one to the scene, told me she smelt petrol shortly before she noticed the neighbour’s flat was on fire, but as her neighbour on the other side made a habit of topping up his car’s petrol tank from a can in the street she thought no more about it. Even when she smelt the smoke she just assumed it was another neighbour having one of their regular barbeques.’
Beside Casey, Thomas Catt murmured, ‘The normal scents of summer in suburbia.’
‘Exactly. That’s what Mrs Neerey thought. It was only when she got up to go into her flat to top up her drink that she noticed the neighbouring flat was on fire. That’s when she rang 999. We’ve only just got the fire out so have had little time to check for other signs.’
‘She didn’t notice anyone suspicious hanging around?’ Casey asked.
Freeman shook his head. ‘She was sunbathing in the back garden.’ He went on to say that, according to the neighbour, a young Asian girl by the name of Mrs Chandra Bansi, lived there alone with her baby daughter.
Casey stared grimly at the smoke-blacked ruin. Briefly, he wondered why an Asian girl would live alone with her baby. It was unusual. The Asian way was the extended family all living together. He asked Freeman, ‘Notice any sign of a break-in?’
‘None that I could see. But the back door was only a cheap wooden job. Mrs Neerey was fairly certain the back door was shut when she first went out into her garden and was still shut when she noticed the fire. The lock wasn’t good quality either and was so twisted from the heat that it was impossible to tell if it was locked or not. Apart from that, I saw nothing to indicate that it had been forced, certainly no chisel or other marks, though admittedly, as most of the wood had burned away, I couldn’t swear to it. The front door was locked and still intact when we arrived. It was a better quality door. We had to smash it down to gain access for our hoses.’
Casey nodded and asked the question that could no longer be avoided. ‘Where are the bodies?’
‘Ground floor. Back living room. There’s access from the rear as there’s an alleyway running along the entire row. I’ve notified my Control. They’re sending out a team of fire investigators.’
The police team were also on their way; the Scene of Crime team, photographer, forensic and Dr Arthur Merriman, the Pathologist. Casey knew Dr Merriman, for one, was likely to be some time as he lived and was based nearly twenty miles away. But meanwhile there was plenty to be getting on with. ‘What about the top flat?’
‘Empty, luckily. A repossession job.’
‘I want to have a look at the scene. Has the structure been made safe?’
‘It looks worse than it is. There seems to be little structural damage. But get hard hats in case of falling debris and masks as there might be some lingering toxic fumes.’ He gestured at the poorly-maintained row of terraces. ‘The area’s run-down, so I expect the soft furnishings were second-hand and stuffed with the old-type foam.’ Grimly, he joked, ‘We don’t want any more fatalities.’
The SOCOs and the brigade fire investigators arrived simultaneously. Casey and the Fire Chief walked over together as they got their equipment from the vans parked one behind the other at the rear of the fire engines. The narrow street was beginning to resemble a grid-locked race track After he and the Chief had briefed the SOCOs and Fire Control teams, Casey thanked Gus Freeman and left them to it.
He and Catt approached the police officers keeping the crowd back who had been the first on the scene and Casey asked them, ‘What can you tell me? Have you had a chance to speak to any of the other neighbours yet?’
