Nothing To Lose

by Steven Suttie

  Several fire appliances were still on site, as were numerous police vans and cars. A number of PCSO officers were explaining the road diversions to frustrated drivers who were making it very clear that they could do without all this hassle. Apart from the emergency services personnel and the odd spectator by the cordon tape, the only other people around this eerie, solemn place were the members of the press who, understandably, were trying to get more information about this devastating fire. The return of Miller and Saunders to the scene, joined by five other familiar looking DCI’s and DI’s was a major development as far as the assembled media were concerned and a very welcome sight.

  Miller was talking as he walked with his entourage, explaining the facts as they were understood, starting at the front of the collapsed building, where the betting shop’s door had been situated, and where the petrol had been poured through the letterbox.

  The scene which lay before the detectives was impossible to make sense of, so Miller was explaining the situation using a Google Street View picture, which showed how the building had looked up until the fire. Miller was waving his arm around, explaining the geography of the site, pointing out reference points from the photograph and these gestures were providing interesting footage for the photographers and cameramen.

  Miller was showing his colleagues the photos and pointing at the only surviving wall, the gable end. He was trying hard to explain how the building had been set out and describing the way that the staircase to the flat had run parallel to seat of the fire, and how the fire had subsequently engulfed the stairs, which had been the only escape route that the family had access as to. He also explained that as this was a traditional, Victorian-era built shop parade, the height of the first-floor flat had prevented the occupants to jump to safety. By modern building standards, he explained, the height of that window would almost be the equivalent height to that of a standard house’s roof.

  Miller appeared oblivious to the press attention as he talked to his new team leaders.

  “Right, so, in terms of forensic evidence, this place is an absolute write-off. The only piece of decent evidence we have is a CCTV camera on the back of the Hat Factory which shows four people walking away from this area shortly after the fire started, a couple of minutes before the first emergency call came in. We’ve also got a potential lead with the person who made the initial emergency 999 call, although that person has yet to be traced. I’ll show you some stills from the CCTV and play you the call once we get in the truck.”

  Miller was referring to the Force’s mobile incident room, which was parked close to the scene of the fire. The huge white truck housed all of the communications tools required to co-ordinate a major incident response, as well as containing a private conference room at the back. DCS Dixon had been keen to see Miller and the others using this facility, right under the media’s noses, to reassure the public that the city’s leading detectives were on scene and were busy trying to track down the individuals responsible for such an unthinkably evil crime.

  As things presently stood, it was too early to present a press conference because the information was still being patched together and a full, rational explanation of the incident was not yet possible.

  Understandably, there was a huge desire to hear the police’s response, particularly from members of the local community. But, the media staff understood that the information would only be released the moment the police were happy to do so, and not a second earlier.

  “The entire building has been condemned by structural engineers,” said Miller, pointing to the blackened, soot covered remainder of the terrace which had consisted of three houses and another shop at the far end. “So, we’ve got an absolute nightmare of a case here, two kids dead, as well as their dad, a mum with no family or home to go to if she survives. Then we’ve got the incidental victims of all this. Four families have been made homeless, the other shop and its owner have lost their livelihood. And all for what? A cowardly attack on a bookies shop!” Miller couldn’t hide his contempt for the perpetrators.

  The other detectives stayed silent as Miller explained the extent of the damage. He’d spent a good ten minutes, walking all the way around the terraced building with his new team, commenting on various aspects of the SOCO investigations, and talking them through the plans that the fire service had for compiling their own reports and publishing their findings.

  Once the site recce had been completed, the TV camera crews continued filming as Miller showed the detectives up the steps and into the mobile incident room. This was where the real work was to begin.

  “Okay, well, I think we should take this opportunity to introduce ourselves properly,” said Miller as he sat down at the table at the back of the converted truck. “I’ll go first, I’m DCI Andy Miller, head of the Serious Crimes Investigation Unit. I’ve been put in charge of this investigation by instruction of DCS David Dixon, acting on behalf of the Chief Constable. As you are all fully aware, DCS Dixon has decided that this investigation requires the full support of the city’s CID departments where betting shop attacks have occurred in the past few weeks, which hopefully explains why you are all here.”

  Miller nodded to his number two, DI Saunders, who had taken the seat to Miller’s right.

  “Hello, I’m DI Keith Saunders, also with the Serious Crimes Unit. As things stand, there are only two officers available to work on this case from our department, that’s myself and DCI Miller. The rest of our team are working on the Graham Hartley murder, which I’m sure you’ll all be aware of from internal communications as well as the substantial press coverage that the case has attracted.”

  There were nods all around the table from the five officers. Saunders gestured the person to his right to introduce herself.

  “Hi, I’m DCI Katy Green from Tameside CID. I’m here because this incident has taken place within our division, and I’m looking forward to working with you all.”

  The next detective spoke. “Yes, hello. I’m DI Nadeem Iqbal from Salford CID. Our division had an arson attack against a betting shop on the seventh of November, the Mintbet bookies in Eccles. That incident was obviously much less serious than this one in that nobody was hurt and the incident caused only cosmetic damage inside the shop.”

  Miller nodded to the next detective.

  “Hi, DCI Bob Cryne from Central. Our department investigated the first of these attacks, which was initially put down to bored kids but of course we are now realising that there is potentially something much more sinister going on. The shop was near Heaton Park, it was completely trashed and flooded, that was on the fourth of November, three days before the incident that Nadeem was just talking about in Eccles.”

  “Hello, DCI Sue Sutherland from Bolton. Our incident took place just a couple of nights ago at the Go-Win betting shop in Farnworth. This was another case of vandalism that has basically put the shop out of business for the foreseeable future. As you’ll probably be aware it has attracted quite a lot of media interest as the link began to be made about the fact that these shops were being targeted. Looking around this site today has been shocking and I’m looking forward to doing everything I can on this investigation to help get the bastards responsible for this locked up.”

  The last of the detectives spoke. “Hello, I’m DI Lee Burrows from Stockport. Our attack was the third incident, on the eleventh of November, at the FreeBets store in Romiley. This was initially treated as vandalism, we had reached the conclusion that it was youths running amok. The store was completely trashed and our witness reports suggested that the whole incident was carried out in under five minutes. There wasn’t any flooding at this address, but the FreeBets managers have said that it will take many months before the damage is made good and the shop reopens.”

  Miller smiled and nodded. “Thanks everybody. I think we can all agree that these crimes weren’t previously viewed as the most serious incidents in the city up until last night’s. That said, I can sense a shit-storm brewing from the pres
s. I imagine that they’ll highlight our lack of progress in arresting the people responsible after the first four attacks, and ultimately use that as a device to blame us for the deaths here last night.”

  “Standard response,” said Saunders under his breath.

  “Anyway, I’ll deal with the press, so please point any enquiries my way. My priority for today is to discuss our objectives and for us all to leave here with a game-plan. The incidents in your own divisions will need to be looked at again, naturally. I’m confident that by treating the earlier attacks much more seriously, we’re bound to get something. Please don’t take this as a criticism, I’m acutely aware that your teams will have had much more pressing incidents to investigate than these shops being smashed up. But it goes without saying that we need to push this right to the top of our priority lists now. I want to see thorough, no-stone-unturned investigations, including CCTV searches, door-to-doors, fresh forensic examinations, we really need to throw the kitchen sink at it. Is that understood?”

  Miller smiled appreciatively at the faces around the table. They were all nodding enthusiastically. Miller knew exactly how much pressure these people were already under before this had been landed on their laps and was pleased to see a positive response and no moaning.

  “Okay, back to the CCTV footage we managed to get from the factory around the corner.” Miller pulled out a photograph of four people who were walking away from the fire. Based on the physical profiles of each individual on the image, it looked as though all four were male, but their body-types didn’t look particularly young. “It’s not that clear on these photos,” Miller started handing out the grainy CCTV images which had been filmed in the dead of night. “Based purely on watching the moving footage, which I will e-mail across to you all later, I’m guessing that these four individuals are male and are aged over thirty.”

  “What makes you say that?” asked DCI Katy Green.

  “You’ll see for yourself when I send the footage, but they don’t walk like young people. Their body shapes don’t make them look like youths. One seems to have a bit of a limp. I may be wrong entirely, but I just don’t think that these are the body movements of nimble youths. I’m sorry I can’t play the footage here, but rest assured you’ll all have it on e-mail by the time that you get back to your desks.”

  The detectives continued to look at the photographs, swapping them around across the table-top.

  “The other interesting thing that we have to think about is the nine-nine-nine call. The tech team are doing some tests on the fancy software they have, apparently they can put an approximate age on the voice by measuring the frequency of the hertz range, or some dorky stuff. But the caller needs to be identified as a matter of urgency, he can be heard puking up during the call and he sounded extremely disturbed, so there’s a strong possibility that he was involved, then panicked when he realised that there was a family trapped above the burning building. I’ll have more information on that later, but I can tell you that it is going to be a major element of the initial press conference.”

  “When’s that happening?” asked DI Nadeem Iqbal.

  “Soon. Just waiting for clearance from the press office who are making sure all loved ones and extended family members are aware of the situation. It’s proving tricky as the family are from Latvia. So, it’s been quite a challenging job to inform the nearest and dearest, I’m told.”

  The five detectives sensed that Miller was done. Now all they wanted to do was get back to their own police stations, and their own teams and begin co-ordinating their own investigations.

  “Any questions?”

  All five of the detectives averted their eyes from Miller’s. That was a no. They just wanted to get out of here and get cracking on the tasks they had to oversee.

  “Okay, well, thank you for being so supportive and understanding. I realise that it’s not ideal, but we should have this sorted out within a few days. I’ll send you all the e-mail correspondence I’ve been talking about just as soon as I get back to my office.”

  And with that, the chairs scraped back and the detectives all stood, before filing out of the major incident room vehicle one-by-one, unbeknown to them, live on the Sky News and BBC News networks.

  Chapter Nine

  Several reporters had clocked the direction that Miller and his entourage had appeared from an hour earlier, and some of the more enthusiastic ones had investigated further and discovered where he and the divisional officers had parked. It was easy enough, six newish silver Vauxhall Insignia cars, all parked in the same street. It had been a bit of a give-away.

  “DCI Miller! What can you tell us about the motive for this tragedy?”

  “Any news on the fatalities?”

  “What time are you expecting to give a press conference?”

  Miller walked calmly towards them, whilst the other CID officers that he’d been meeting with got into their vehicles and headed back to their respective police stations. Saunders got into the SCIU car and started the engine.

  “Hi, alright?” said the well-known DCI as he confronted the small group. They all nodded and said hello. “Alright Lee, has your missus had the baby yet?”

  “No, still a few weeks to go!” said the Granada Reports crime correspondent, appearing pleased that Miller had taken an interest.

  “Yes, I can tell. You look like you’ve had a good night’s sleep. I’ll know when the baby’s here because you’ll have the new dad look of despair! There’s no way of hiding it, I’ve tried myself.”

  Lee laughed as Miller switched his attention to the rest of the reporters. “Listen everyone, I know we’ve been pretty quiet today and not fed you much but it’ll all become clearer in a bit. I just need you all to be patient for a bit longer.”

  The press appreciated Miller’s no-bullshit response. He was always good with them, and treated them as colleagues rather than nuisances, which was the way most senior police officers treated the press. The respect that Miller showed them was appreciated. They all knew that if he had something to tell them, he’d have let them have it by now. Incidents such as this one were always shrouded in a cloak of secrecy until the formalities had been taken care of.

  “It’s bad though, isn’t it? Horrific crime scene.”

  There were nods and grunts from the small crowd.

  “I hope you’re all ready for a busy time of it though, once we’ve had the go-ahead for the press conference?”

  “Any idea when it will be Andy?” asked one.

  “Not sure… but it will be today, probably after tea. So, I’ll probably see you all later on. Cheers for now guys.”

  Miller smiled warmly and returned to the last remaining Insignia on the terraced street. Saunders had the engine running and pulled the clutch up as soon as his boss sat in the passenger seat.

  “Bless ‘em.”

  “Who? Them?” asked Saunders, looking across at Miller as though his boss had lost his marbles.

  “Yeah, must be shit doing that job, waiting around all day for us to tell them what they already know, but can’t actually say.”

  “Well there are worse jobs. I went to college with a lad whose brother had to pull turds and rubber johnnies and dead cats out of drains. All day, every day. His nickname was Michael shit-fingers.”

  Miller smiled. In the grand scheme of things, that was a much worse job than being a reporter.

  “So, what do you reckon?” asked Miller.

  “About the fire?”

  “Well yes, obviously Keith. I’m not interested in your thoughts on Michael shit-fingers.”

  “Well, my theory is that the people who did this had no idea that the family were in bed above the shop. I think they will all have woken up to the news and will be going insane now with guilt. Once you’ve done your press conference, I think they will hand themselves in.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. How can anybody live with that? They’ll want to explain, try and cleanse their conscience, make sure everyb
ody knows that it was a tragic accident, that they’re not monsters. That they’re just fucking stupid, not evil.” Saunders tapped the indicator and pulled onto the motorway slip-road before pressing his foot hard on the accelerator.

  “I hope you’re right. That will make our jobs a lot easier.”

  “I’ve seen it happen before. I just can’t imagine anybody being able to justify it in their minds. If it was one person, I’d feel a bit different, but four of them? Four people who all know what they are guilty of, killing two little kids and their dad in the most terrifying of circumstances? There’s no way they can try and carry on as normal.”

  “Is that the way you think I should present the press-conference?”

  “It wouldn’t do any harm. Play the sympathy card, tell them that you know they never meant it… yeah, definitely. I think we’ll have them in custody tonight.”

  Miller wasn’t so sure. He trusted Saunders completely, and valued his opinions, after all, his DI was very rarely wrong. But the idea that the perpetrators were just going to walk into the police station and beg forgiveness was taking it a bit far in Miller’s estimations, they were all facing life sentences for last night’s activities. Life sentences with the label ‘kid-killer.’ It wasn’t necessarily going to be a softer option to confess and spend the next twenty years being beaten and abused in jail.

  “Well I don’t personally agree that they’ll walk in, but I think I will construct my press conference around that basis, get in touch, cleanse your soul. I might add in a bit of scare-mongering too.”

  “What like?”

  “Well, you know, if you suspect that you know who did this, I am appealing to you to phone the police, under no circumstances must you go round there and take the law into your own hands. That kind of thing.”

  “Genius. Creating a sense of complete and overpowering mental anguish. Nice touch.”