Flesh and Blood

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Flesh and Blood Page 13

by Emma Salisbury


  He turned towards her, eyebrow raised, ‘Does Carl ever accuse you of overthinking things?’

  ‘Only once…’ she said ominously, turning her head so that she was staring through the passenger window, hands clamped beneath her armpits. When her favourite song came on the radio she didn’t bother tapping her foot.

  Coupland sighed. ‘In answer to your question, it’s quite nice having a kiddie about the place.’

  Alex regarded him out of the corner of her eye. ‘Only quite nice?’

  Coupland shrugged. ‘Like I imagine having a dog would be,’ he said. ‘When I walk into the room he stares up at me like I know how the world works, plus he never answers back. He isn’t shy about crapping everywhere either.’ Funny thing was Coupland couldn’t remember any more what it had been like before Tonto came along. Quieter, that was for sure, but he had a way of making them all pull together, and if they tried hard enough, they might one day forget about his father.

  ‘How do you think Tunny fits into the picture?’ Alex asked. ‘I mean, his sister was surely the target of the fire, which alters the direction of the investigation completely.’

  Coupland thought about this. ‘Possibly. Or it could have still have been a random act.’

  ‘That what you really think?’

  Coupland shook his head. ‘No, but I’m trying not to run headlong down any rabbit holes without considering all the possibilities. What I do know is that whatever the cause, whoever did this, we’ve got a potential gang war on our hands if we don’t get to them before Tunny does.’

  ‘Is that who you went to see when you disappeared to the barbers earlier?’ Alex asked. ‘Given you didn’t look any different when you returned.’ She gave his hair the once over. ‘You know, a trim wouldn’t do any harm.’

  ‘Lynn likes something she can run her fingers through,’ Coupland grinned, his mind wandering to the previous evening. He caught Alex looking at him, remembered she’d asked him a question. ‘I wanted to appeal to his better nature. Remind him that we want the same outcome. All I got for my trouble was a “My dad’s bigger than yours” speech.’

  ‘Charming.’

  ‘The boss isn’t happy with how I’m handling him.’

  ‘Easy to say when you’re not the one negotiating with someone who isn’t scared of jail.’

  ‘Even so.’

  ‘What other options do we have?’

  ‘We lean on the care home manager, put the fear of God into him if he even considers passing anything else on to Tunny.’

  Cedar Falls was a red brick Victorian mill converted into a thirty bedroom residence with a modern glass and concrete extension added a couple of years back, providing office space and staff accommodation. The fire had gutted the residential block, while the office and staff quarters remained intact. Today was the first time anyone from the murder squad had access to the damaged part of the building. Though the fire brigade had certified the residential block was safe to enter, it had done so on the proviso they were accompanied by an officer from the Fire Investigation Unit. Coupland parked as close as the police cordon would allow.

  ‘This job can be a barrel of laughs sometimes,’ he said.

  ‘Laugh a minute,’ agreed Alex, unclipping her seatbelt. They stepped around a pile of fire damaged items that had been laid out across the pavement, blackened photo frames, melted televisions, singed bedding. Any items of significance had already been bagged and tagged; the items lying here were headed for a skip, unless relatives wanted a single blackened shoe or broken mirror as a keepsake.

  *

  The fire scene investigator from the FIU waited for them in front of the warped main door. He looked a similar age to Coupland albeit slimmer, though Coupland was pleased to note the flecks of grey in his hair were more noticeable.

  ‘Fire Officer Grayling,’ the man barked. Instead of a hand he held out blue forensic suits. ‘I can’t stay long. Not if you want my report by the end of the day.’ He waited as the detectives climbed into them, donning gloves and masks that he pulled from a cardboard box like a magician pulling a rabbit from a top hat.

  Coupland shared a look with Alex, deciding to keep his mouth shut. It never paid to wind up folk that could impede an investigation if they chose to.

  ‘If you could stay close to me, that would be helpful,’ Grayling added, turning his back on them as he stepped through the splintered and buckled door. Even through their masks the smell was pungent. The interior was still damp from the firefighters’ hoses. The flooring in the reception and residents’ communal area was sodden underfoot. The walls were black and the high backed chairs dotted about the room were caked in soot. The damage in the dining room was less severe, nothing, on the face of it, a lick of paint and a bit of spit and polish couldn’t fix. The same couldn’t be said as they approached the stairs.

  The bannisters leading to the first floor were charred. The stair carpet burned through to the boards. ‘You’re fine,’ the officer told them, ‘it may not look it but the upstairs is structurally sound.’

  Despite this, Alex, trod gingerly in his footsteps. When they reached the landing Grayling pointed to several patches of missing carpet. ‘We’ve taken them up to check for accelerant, given the worst hit areas were the bedrooms along this wing.’

  Coupland stuck his head into one of the bedrooms; a lone CSI was crouched lifting more of the flooring.

  ‘We’re taking samples from all the bedrooms, that way we’ll know if one person in particular was targeted.’ He turned to look at Coupland. ‘That’s assuming there’s accelerant to find.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘People are cagey when incidents like this happen. Start covering up anything that might get them into trouble. All of the staff I spoke to who smoke confirm they only ever had a cigarette in the allocated area, but experience tells me when it’s cold or raining people huddle by the back door, where in this instance the medical equipment, including flammable gases, are stored.’

  ‘Rule breakers, eh,’ Alex said, shooting a glance in Coupland’s direction.

  ‘Trust me, this fire is no accident,’ Coupland said, ignoring her.

  ‘I’m not saying it is, but it could be down to negligence,’ Grayling reiterated.

  Coupland watched the CSI place a small patch of carpet into a plastic evidence bag. The mattress on the bed had burned through to the frame, a charred carcass that had once been a wardrobe stood beside the door. A melted television, slick with foam. To Coupland’s eye the level of damage in each room seemed the same. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said aloud. ‘How come some residents died and others survived?’

  ‘I believe the ones that survived were the night owls, or those in no hurry to turn in at least. Apart from the care assistant our victims were all obediently tucked up in their beds.’

  ‘Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be compliant,’ Coupland stated, returning the look Alex had sent him earlier. He’d seen enough. There was nothing they’d learn from this exercise that he wouldn’t glean from reading the report later. A look from Alex told him she felt the same. They made for the stairs.

  Coupland paused to point at the ceiling. ‘How come these places get away with not having smoke alarms?’

  The officer shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. If it were my business it’d be the first thing I’d do.’ If it was down to Coupland he’d reinforce all the doors and windows and cover the place in CCTV. It depended on which angle you were looking from, he supposed. Which level of expertise. Or paranoia.

  *

  Alan Harkins was waiting for them outside the block that housed the staff quarters. He looked different, a lot more casual than on their previous encounters. ‘You’ll have to excuse what I’m wearing but I’ve ended up borrowing a friend’s clothes. Though I don’t see why I can’t move back in since there’s nothing wrong with the staff quarters.’

  Coupland regarded the too tight sweatshirt and dark jeans. Reckoned this friend was a lot younger than Harkins
. More able to carry them off. ‘The fire service will be done by the end of the day…’ he said, trying to convey a sympathy he didn’t feel.

  Happy at least with that response Harkins rewarded Coupland with a smile as he showed them through to his office, a pokey room made to look even pokier by its untidiness. ‘I often eat in here,’ he told them apologetically, eyeing polystyrene takeaway containers and screwed up chip wrappers beside a wicker bin. A TV perched on a filing cabinet, a laptop and mobile phone sat on top of the desk. ‘Have you any news on who might have started the fire? Only I’ve spoken to your colleagues so many times I feel like I’m starting to repeat myself. ’

  ‘Funny you should say that,’ Coupland drawled. ‘Only I’m not aware of you alerting us to the fact that Catherine Fry was the sister of a notorious crime boss. Any reason my colleagues had to find that out by chance?’

  Harkins paled. ‘I didn’t see the relevance—’

  Coupland puffed out his cheeks. ‘—Now I know you’re telling me porkies. One of the most feared men in Salford entrusts his sister into your care, a care home that is later burnt to the ground, and you don’t think it’s worth mentioning?’

  ‘When you say it like that…’ Harkins muttered.

  ‘Like what? Like we know you’re on a retainer and I’m wondering what other services you provide?’

  ‘It isn’t a retainer! Mr Tunny pays fees like everyone else.’

  ‘That isn’t quite true, is it? Or do most folk siphon money through dummy companies? Thought not,’ Coupland added when Harkins didn’t respond. ‘How long had Catherine been a resident?’

  ‘A year. Her mother was finding it hard to manage on her own.’

  Ma Tunny was as tough as old boots but Coupland guessed caring for a fully grown adult needing support required a different strength.

  Harkins read his thoughts. ‘It’s never an easy decision to make, you know. Deciding someone else can provide better, more consistent care for your loved one than you. Trying to second guess the future is hard. Loving someone and caring for them twenty-four-seven are two different things. We try to make the relatives feel as at ease with their decision as they can be.’ Harkins paused. ‘Besides, I didn’t feel I could turn him down. He can be very persuasive.’

  Coupland didn’t doubt it. ‘Which is why you’ve been passing on copies of the information we’ve been asking for onto him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Coupland shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling. ‘Am I speaking in forked tongue or something?’

  Harkins drew back as though trying to widen the gap between them.

  ‘Some of Tunny’s boy soldiers were here the night of the fire, the same time as the fire crew, I saw them again at the hospital when I came to speak to you, I know he’s been in touch.’

  Harkins dropped his gaze. ‘He wanted a list of patients’ names and contact details. Staff too.’

  ‘And you gave it to him?’

  Harkins stared at the floor.

  ‘I mean, you didn’t quote data protection or tell him your memory sticks had melted?’

  ‘I was in shock, I wasn’t thinking!’

  ‘You thought about saving your backside more like.’ Coupland huffed out a sigh. ‘He’s had men running round the city waving machetes in people’s faces. I could do you for aiding and abetting…’

  ‘I’m sorry!’ Harkins stuttered. ‘Please, don’t ruin my livelihood.’

  ‘Then you need to get your priorities right. I want all the data you gave to Tunny emailed to me now.’

  ‘I can put it on a memory stick for you,’ Harkins offered.

  ‘Nah, I like audit trails. I don’t want some tosspot lawyer further down the line saying I obtained the data illegally.’

  ‘I wouldn’t do that!’

  Coupland’s mouth formed a grim line. ‘Folk act out of character when their bums start to squeak. I think you’ve already proved that.’

  Harkins looked down at his bandaged hands, as though reminding Coupland he was a victim too.

  ‘Have you any idea of the havoc you’ve caused? The number of folk scared witless on the back of your loose lips?’

  Harkins hung his head, the fight drained out of him.

  Coupland decided to back track a little. ‘Tell me what you remember about the fire.’

  ‘It’s all a bit hazy, to tell you the truth. When the alarm went off the staircase was already full of smoke, everywhere you looked on the landing there were flames…I ran to Catherine’s room first as it’s nearest the stairs. I managed to bring her out but it was too late.’

  ‘When did Tunny call you regarding the fire?’

  Harkins didn’t need to think about it. ‘Not long after the first fire engine arrived. Someone had seen it and told him. He wanted to know that Catherine was safe. I-I couldn’t tell him she was dead. Instead I told him not everyone had been evacuated. He went berserk, said we had to find her.’ Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair.

  Alex regarded him. ‘What’s happened is tragic for all concerned, but you mustn’t give out any more information to anyone that could be relevant to our investigation.’

  ‘How do I know what’s relevant?’

  ‘It’s our job to work that out. In the meantime I suggest you say nothing, direct relatives and anyone else for that matter to the incident number on the card you were given.’

  ‘Does this include Mr Tunny?’

  Coupland’s fingers gave an involuntary twitch. ‘Especially Mr bloody Tunny.’

  ‘Does he know that?’

  ‘I’ve spoken to him; he’s agreed to cooperate with us fully.’ Harkins didn’t need to know that wasn’t exactly the gist of things, but it’d keep him onside for the time being. ‘Any of your other residents have infamous connections?’ Coupland asked.

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Good, if you want my advice you’ll keep it that way.’

  Alex moved to the doorway and looked out onto the reception area and a set of stairs leading to the floor above. ‘Was this extension put on under your ownership, Mr Harkins?’ A nod. ‘Can we have a plan of the buildings? I’m guessing you’ll have one to hand.’

  ‘Gave a copy to the fire officers when they first arrived,’ Harkins told them, moving to the filing cabinet and pulling out a folder. He lifted the flap and pulled out a sheet of paper which he unfolded before handing it to Alex.

  Alex spread the drawing out onto Harkins’ desk. Cedar Falls was two storeys high but part of the roof space had also been converted into accommodation. ‘The top floor, is this for patients too?’

  Harkins’ nod was slow.

  ‘What’s it used for?’

  A pause. ‘It’s a locked ward. We keep our more… challenging patients on that floor.’

  Alex raised her eyebrows at Coupland, moved to the side of the desk so he could get a better look. ‘It’s like something out of Jane Eyre,’ she said, ‘and didn’t that end with a fire?’

  Coupland stared at her askance.

  ‘You know…the novel?’ she prompted.

  ‘You’re looking at me like I know what the hell you’re talking about. I was strictly a Beano boy.’ He turned to Harkins. ‘Was anyone in this locked ward when the fire broke out?’ A pause. ‘Spit it out man!’

  ‘Johnny Metcalfe.’

  Coupland cocked a brow in Alex’s direction, ‘The young fella I liberated from the cells yesterday.’ He addressed his next comment to Harkins. ‘So, let me get this right, your head counts don’t add up, your fire prevention procedures are abysmal and your security borders on the non-existent. Apart from that you run a tight ship.’

  ‘Easy tiger.’ Alex muttered.

  ‘Never mind easy tiger, you any idea how much these places charge? I’m not seeing value for money here.’

  Alex stared at him.

  ‘I’m just saying.’

  He turned back to Harkins. ‘Out of interest, what had Johnny done that required him to be locked up out of the
way like that?’

  ‘He can be difficult.’

  ‘If that’s the only criterion then make me up a bed.’

  Harkins looked as though he’d like nothing better than to lock Coupland in a padded cell, after administering something nasty with a big fat syringe. ‘He can upset the other patients when he’s a mind to. The other staff as well. Sometimes it’s easier to keep him apart from the others.’

  ‘Seems a bit extreme.’

  ‘This isn’t the right place for him anymore. Too many people are placed in facilities like ours and many stay for too long.’

  ‘You think that’s the case with Johnny?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Look. I’m not the one in the wrong here.’ Harkins had gone back to being defensive, his hand hovered in front of his fly as though he needed to go for a pee. ‘I’ve co-operated every step of the way.’

  ‘Not every step,’ Alex reminded him. ‘I’m still waiting on next of kin details for Barbara Howe.’

  Harkins looked sheepish. ‘I don’t have any. Or emergency contact details either.’ Adding, when he saw a look of irritation flash across Coupland’s face, ‘I asked her for them several times when she first came here but after a while gave up. She was a good worker, never took a day off sick, hardly ever took time due, so it didn’t seem important.’

  ‘Doesn’t it worry you that every decision you make seems to be the wrong one?’

  Harkins said nothing.

  Alex tried a different tack. ‘Barbara was in the residential block on the night of the fire, yet I understand her shift had ended. Any idea why she’d still be there?’

  ‘Barbara was like that, she’d often stay on. She was always the first to start work and the last to leave.’

  ‘And she lived in the staff quarters?’

  ‘Yes. In this block.’

  Coupland caught Alex’s eye: on this they were agreed, ‘We’ll take a look at her room.’

  Barbara Howe’s room resembled that of a Premier Inn or Travel Lodge. Enough space to swing a cat but not much more. A bed, a set of drawers, a wardrobe on which several photographs had been Blu-tacked. A couple of pot plants sat on a small table beside an uncomfy looking sofa.

 

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