‘Walker told us when they reached him on the third floor he was already dead, and they couldn’t retrieve the body,’ said Paulsen. Finn shook his head.
‘Was he though? If we’re saying they’re potentially unreliable witnesses, then can we trust anything they’ve said from the point when they went in? If they stumbled on Whitlock and twenty-five per cent of rather a lot . . . how do we know they didn’t kill him for it?’
There was a pause as they each thought through the implication; the speed of decisions which would have been taken – literally – in the heat of the moment.
‘It might not have been a collective thing,’ said Paulsen. ‘Maybe one of them acted and the others had no choice. Or maybe it’s like Walker said – it was too late and there was nothing they could do for Whitlock. If the cash was just sitting there . . .’
‘Before you both run away with this, there is one other thing,’ said Ojo. ‘I spoke to Gary Elder’s mother. She claims he went into business with Adesh Kaul for a short time after they both retired. Only for about eighteen months. So the business has been dead for quite a while, but she seemed uncomfortable talking about it. I got the feeling she was hiding something.’
‘What kind of business was it?’ said Finn.
‘They provided bouncy castles for hire. Children’s parties, that kind of thing.’
‘They wouldn’t be cheap to buy,’ said Paulsen.
Finn nodded.
‘Dig a bit deeper, Jacks, see what else you can find out. Anything which links those two is important. It might be what funded the wedding and the fast car.’
‘Or it might be a business they set up with the proceeds of cash they nicked from Pacific Square,’ said Paulsen.
‘Exactly. So first things first. We’ve heard Walker’s explanation; now let’s see what the other two have to say. I’ll interview Maddox. DC Paulsen – you go and speak with Stuart Portbury.’
‘And if our murderer is the fucking Handyman – you know, a bloke you described as a fairy story earlier this week – with all due respect, guv, how are we going to bring him in?’ said Ojo.
Paulsen found herself warming to the Detective Sergeant. She was starting to get a handle on Ojo’s relationship with Finn and was enjoying it, just as she was enjoying the smile on Finn’s face. It vanished though as he focused on the question.
‘We don’t know what happened in Pacific Square once those men found Erik Whitlock. But two of them are dead, and the other three may now be targets. If they’re not telling us the whole story, then we may need to protect them from themselves.’
Chapter 25
Phil Maddox
The police want to see me. Does anybody
know why? 07:08
Martin Walker
Stay calm. They’re just asking about Adesh.
They’ve already talked to me. Be honest –
tell them you hadn’t seen him in years. 07:12
Phil Maddox
FFS – you didn’t mention they’d been to see
you. 07:13
Martin Walker
It was just a DI and a junior DC who asked all
the obvz questions. Nothing you can’t handle. 07:16
Phil Maddox
What if they ask about Pacific Square? 07:17
Martin Walker
Tell them what you can . . . 07:19
Phil Maddox
Gary, Stu – have they spoken to you yet? 07:19
Phil Maddox
Come on guys – I need some help here? 08:20
Stuart Portbury
They’re coming to see me too. The skipper’s
right – tell them as much as u can. It’s the
best way of getting rid of them. You’ve got
to stay calm. 08:34
Phil Maddox
I am calm. But there’s potentially someone out
there who KNOWS about us. Doesn’t that
concern you? 08:36
Stuart Portbury
What good will worrying do? We don’t even
know what happened to Adesh yet. Keep a
grip mate. 08:39
Phil Maddox
FFS! 08:42
Phil Maddox
Gary – are they coming to see you too? 08:44
Phil Maddox
Gary? 09:02
Chapter 26
It was an odd choice, thought Finn.
One Pacific Square gleamed before him in the late morning sunshine. It was now an established part of the London skyline, alongside the Gherkin, the Shard and the Cheesegrater. The angular dark blue tower hadn’t managed to acquire its own unique nickname, partly perhaps due to its troubled origins.
The choice he found so puzzling was the location of Phil Maddox’s flat. It was only a mile or so from the tower. It was hard to understand why he’d want to live so close to a place that surely held difficult memories. Or maybe that was the point – sometimes the best places to hide were in plain sight.
Maddox’s flat was at the top of a new build, a clay-coloured oblong of a structure, criss-crossed with shiny glass balconies. Finn didn’t like it. Give him a period building any day. His eyes unexpectedly began to prick. Another of those random guerrilla attacks of grief. Somewhere in an alternate reality, he and Karin were living in a Victorian townhouse raising the family they’d never talked about having. This time the assault on his senses was mercifully brief. One of the bizarre things about bereavement, he was beginning to notice, was you couldn’t anticipate how acute these moments were going to be. He cleared his thoughts and headed for the entrance.
Inside, the flat looked expensive. It offered a stunning view of the Thames from the huge windows at the end of the living room. Everything looked new. Formica furniture and chrome fittings abounded. Finn casually asked if Maddox owned the place, and he nodded awkwardly. Awkward to the point of embarrassed, thought Finn.
There were a pair of sofas close to the windows. Finn sat on one that looked as if it’d never been used. Maddox sat opposite, arms crossed, visibly nervous. In the circumstances it wasn’t surprising.
‘Gary was burnt alive as well . . . just like Adesh?’
For a moment Finn saw the misshapen thing at the wheel of the burnt-out Maserati. A hunk of blackened meat, peeling strips of burnt flesh fused to scraps of charred material. The accompanying smell of gristle, toxic and plastic. He remembered too the sour-sweet smell which permeated the corridors of the Manor Park Hotel.
‘I’m afraid so. Have you any idea why someone would target either of them?’
‘No, none at all. I haven’t kept in touch with anyone from those days since I left.’
‘Why did you quit, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘I’d had enough. Simple as that.’
‘That’s it?’
‘It sums up a lot of boring reasons, but yes.’
‘I know Adesh Kaul and Gary Elder left around the same time. So did Stuart Portbury and Martin Walker. Was there any specific reason you all went more or less together?’
‘No. It wasn’t something we talked about. It’s just how it panned out.’
He looked tense. Finn was already recalibrating his approach. Go in too hard and the man would clam up.
‘It was all within months of the Pacific Square blaze . . .’
‘So?’
‘Was it connected?’
‘And what if it was? It’s hardly something I should have to explain. You have heard of PTSD, haven’t you? We went through a hell of a lot that night.’
He made a good point and Finn felt ashamed for not thinking of it sooner. The pressures on firefighters attending major incidents were immense. It was a perfectly valid explanation for why all these men had left so soon after Pacific Square.
‘I’m sorry, you’re quite right. Was that the reason?’
‘I can only speak for myself, but yes, it certainly played a part in my thinking.’
He ran through his version of what happened that night. Finn coul
dn’t help notice it tallied exactly with Walker’s account. He wondered if that’s because it was precisely what happened, or whether they’d colluded on it. The surviving men may not have seen each other in the intervening years, but he’d seen them talking amicably enough at Kaul’s wake. It was entirely possible they’d settled on an agreed narrative.
‘So what have you been doing since you retired? It’s nearly five years, isn’t it?’
‘Freelance IT work mainly. It’s a lot safer than fighting fires.’ He gestured at a smart workstation in the corner of the room.
‘And that’s paid for all of this?’ Finn gestured at the rest of the room and Maddox looked awkward again.
‘I inherited some money too. It’s partly why I quit the job, my mother died shortly before. You can check that if you want,’ he added somewhat unnecessarily.
‘Doesn’t it worry you? Two of your old colleagues dying in these circumstances? Aren’t you concerned you might be targeted too?’
‘Obviously it’s worrying. Mainly because I don’t know why they died. You must have some idea?’
‘Not at this point, no.’
‘Do I need protection?’ His foot was tapping nervously now.
‘It’s something we can talk about. If there’s a genuine threat to life, we’ve a duty of care towards you.’
Maddox shook his head.
‘But I’ve done nothing wrong. I’ve nothing to hide.’
Finn decided to stop dancing.
‘Phil, the man you found inside Pacific Square – Erik Whitlock. You know who he was, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I read the papers at the time.’
‘Good. Because we think he might have taken some money in there that night. A lot of it. I’m trying to get to the truth, because if I don’t know the full picture then it makes protecting you very difficult. So, if there’s something you want to tell me . . . now’s the time to say it. It might just save your life.’
Maddox breathed out with what almost sounded like a whimper. Finn was certain the man was about to break, but then for the first time since they’d begun talking, he looked him in the eye.
‘You asked me why I quit. There was a job we did a few years back. A house fire near Streatham. Some kid was playing with matches in the back garden while his parents were watching telly inside. It was autumn, so there were a lot of dry leaves on the ground.’ He looked out of the window, the sun reflecting brightly off the river below. ‘The leaves were like tinder and this kid set himself alight. He can’t have been much more than nine. His parents never heard a thing. The first they knew was when they saw the orange glow reflecting off the TV. I carried him out of that garden myself, his skin melting on to my uniform. He died in hospital a few days later. You talk to a firefighter, a paramedic, a cop . . . everyone’s got a story like that. I’m betting you have too. So don’t ask me why I quit, because you know why – it all catches up with you in the end.’
And just for a moment, Finn heard the authenticity in the man’s voice.
‘Does it look like I robbed a bank?’
Stuart Portbury seemed more mildly amused than terrified for his life, thought Mattie Paulsen. The small one-bedroom flat in Greenwich where he lived was modest. She was looking for signs of excess spending, but nothing was jumping out. If anything, it reminded her of her own boxy flat that she shared with Nancy. There was a kitchen diner on the ground floor with a small bedroom at the back, and a cupboard-like shower room in between. He lived alone and the whole place, unlike hers, was spotlessly clean.
‘If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t seem too bothered that two of your former colleagues have been murdered?’
‘What gives you that idea? Of course I’m upset. It’s more that I can’t get my head around it. I don’t understand why.’
She led him through the flow of their thinking: One Pacific Square – Erik Whitlock – stolen money – the Handyman. Portbury just looked bewildered.
‘I was outside One Pacific Square – I never went into the building on the night. I was manning the pump. Whatever went on in there you’ll have to ask the others about. The other two now, I mean.’ He corrected himself and looked away for a moment.
‘I’m sorry, but I had to ask.’
‘And this is a genuine line of inquiry? That Adesh and Gary were killed for money they’re supposed to have stolen that night? Cash you think I took too?’
‘You tell me.’
‘All my money’s in a NatWest savers account, which you’re welcome to go through. You won’t find much.’
‘I’ll take you up on that. And if we take a really close look at your accounts over the last five years, what will we find?’
‘Too much shit bought off eBay? Look, if you do want to do that, then knock yourselves out. I haven’t got anything to hide. Search this place too if you want – there’s nothing under the bed. I’m a tradesman these days, spend most of my time with my arm up a U-bend. I earn enough to live a quiet life and that’s how I like it.’
He seemed genuine enough, thought Paulsen, but something nagged at her about him. She’d felt exactly the same about Walker in his garden, she realised.
‘Did you ever get a sense that something strange had gone on? Were the other guys different afterwards, like they were hiding something?’
‘No. We were all absolutely shattered for ages after. We didn’t really talk about it. Nights like that you’re just grateful to come away in one piece. You do realise there were more than just the five of us there that night? There were firefighters from all over London.’
‘Yes – I’m aware of that. But you quit afterwards. You and the other four you drove there that night. Why?’
He shrugged.
‘A lot of firefighters quit after Pacific Square. I’m sure the LFB have all the details – ask them how many needed help with PTSD as well.’
‘Did you?’
‘No. Like I say, I was lucky. I was outside the building.’
She noticed he tensed slightly as he remembered. The memory seemed to bother him.
‘You still haven’t told me why you left the job?’
‘I can only speak for myself. For me it felt like the end of an era. And those guys weren’t my mates; I haven’t stayed in touch with any of them since I went. But we served together for a long time. When the team began to break up, the job felt different to me. I didn’t like it. It just seemed like a natural time to make the break.’
‘Alright, Stuart. But if there is something you’re not telling me – and maybe you don’t want to break that circle of trust with your old crew – just remember it didn’t help Elder or Kaul.’
This seemed to register, and for a moment Paulsen thought she saw something else in Portbury’s expression, a cry for help in his eyes. Much later she’d remember that.
It was Ojo who broke the news of Elder’s death to Martin Walker. The former crew manager was visibly shocked. He’d said all the right things, offered his assistance, but she’d still come away with an impression he was holding something back.
‘They all are,’ said Paulsen as she, Finn and Ojo regrouped at Cedar House.
‘What did you make of Portbury?’ asked Finn.
‘Cool as a cucumber, but that’s because he thinks all this has nothing to do with him. There’s no obvious signs of unexplained wealth. He’s the only one whose finances seem to fit his circumstances.’
Finn turned to Ojo.
‘Jacks, have you found any more on that business Kaul and Elder set up together?’
She went over to her desk and grabbed some paperwork.
‘I pulled this off the Companies House website earlier.’ She skimmed down the sheet. ‘Gemini Leisure – incorporated on March 9th 2016, dissolved on April 16th 2017. Lists Elder as Company Secretary and Kaul as a director.’
‘That puts them in business for a year. That’s a lot of time for them to have made some enemies,’ said Paulsen.
Ojo was still glancing through the paperw
ork she was holding.
‘There’s more, hang on . . .’
She went back to her computer and scanned through her emails.
‘Fuck . . .’ she said under her breath, before tapping at her keyboard. She went over to the printer, waited for it to judder into life and then pulled a slowly emerging sheet of A4 from its jaws.
‘When I Googled Gemini Leisure earlier, the only other thing I found was a brief newspaper report about a legal proceeding involving them. Turns out some woman suffered a life-changing injury on one of their inflatables. She broke her back and was paralysed from the waist down. She and her husband tried to bring an action against them, but Gemini were cleared of any liability. I emailed the local paper earlier to see if they had any more and they’ve just replied – it turns out she committed suicide earlier this year.’
Finn and Paulsen exchanged glances.
‘A husband, you say?’ said Finn.
Chapter 27
Kevin Pender was looking old, Paulsen thought. Which was odd, because she’d only just met him. He possessed a mop of unkempt black hair and a face which looked permanently stern thanks to a pair of thick-set black eyebrows. There was weariness too. You could easily knock off five years and picture the younger, warmer iteration of this man. Before tragedy changed him. She and Finn were in the front room of his three-bedroom house in Sutton. It mirrored its owner’s state of disrepair. She guessed this was a home once, rather than just a living space. Expensive-looking furniture sat neglected, chipped and stained. The living room was scattered with miscellany – papers, books and mugs piled in corners, gathered on chairs. There were prominent wedding pictures too on the mantelpiece. A self-conscious, smiling brunette posing with that younger, friendlier version of Kevin.
‘It was my brother’s birthday. He was the one who actually booked the fucking thing.’
The words themselves were angry but the voice was toneless. He looked like a man in urgent need of help, thought Paulsen.
‘Take your time,’ Finn said.
The Burning Men Page 13