The Burning Men

by Will Shindler

  ‘I’ve not been knocked out of my stride,’ she said with visible irritation now. ‘But how would you have felt if they’d done this to your wife?’

  It took a second for Finn to react. He was so used to everyone tiptoeing around the subject of Karin it was jarring to hear someone refer to her like that.

  ‘Fair point.’

  He looked away awkwardly but if Paulsen was embarrassed, she wasn’t showing it.

  ‘We can put an officer outside your flat tonight if you’re concerned?’ said Skegman. He’d been watching the entire exchange with fascination. Paulsen shook her head.

  ‘That won’t be necessary, sir, but thank you.’

  ‘What have you told Nancy?’ said Finn.

  ‘That it was just a mix-up. She thought it was odd but nothing more.’

  ‘You did the right thing. DI Finn’s right – I’d try and ignore it,’ said Skegman.

  ‘I’d rather not ignore it. I’d prefer to find the spineless piece of shit who’s trying to intimidate me, and give some back. Sir.’ The final word dripped with sarcasm and Skegman’s previously sympathetic smile hardened.

  ‘And the best way of doing that is to direct your energies into the investigation, DC Paulsen. Thank you, that will be all for now.’

  She looked ready to say more, but checked herself. Her participation in the conversation was clearly over. She glanced briefly at Finn, then took the hint and left the room.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Skegman asked Finn.

  ‘I’m fine. She’s just a bit shaken up – it’s understandable.’

  ‘She was out of order.’

  ‘It’s okay . . . honestly.’

  Finn look slightly more ruffled than he was making out. Skegman could tell, because in the normal run of things Finn very rarely allowed his discomfort to show – and God knows Skegman had enjoyed trying to provoke some over the years.

  ‘There’s one other possibility we can’t rule out,’ said Finn, changing the subject.

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘We might be looking at two completely separate investigations. Even if Pender is our man, we might have stumbled on a robbery no one ever knew occurred.’

  Skegman digested this, his little beady eyes darting around the room for a moment.

  ‘I’d be happier if there was a bit more hard evidence to back up some of these theories. We’ve got until half past three tomorrow afternoon to charge Pender – what’s your next step?’

  ‘Jackie Ojo’s gone over to his property to supervise the searches. There was nothing in Kaul’s post-mortem that puts him at the hotel and Elder’s PM is taking place on Saturday. There’s a cell site analysis being done on his phone which should tell us more about his movements. The appeal is still generating calls as well – let’s see if something falls out of the tree.’

  ‘What about the other firefighters? If we think they’ve committed a crime, shouldn’t we be investigating it? And if we think they’re in danger, shouldn’t we be looking to protect them?’ said Skegman.

  Finn thought about it for a moment.

  ‘We know this investigation is under some scrutiny now. The more it looks like we think those firefighters did something, the more someone else might too. We could end up endangering them inadvertently.’

  ‘. . . and then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Alright, let’s see where we are tomorrow afternoon and re-assess.’

  Finn nodded.

  ‘And how are you coping, Alex? I am going to keep asking that question.’

  ‘I didn’t know you cared, dear,’ said Finn quickly, though neither man smiled. There was genuine concern on Skegman’s face, though Finn knew it was as much for the investigation as it was for him. ‘If I said I was taking things one day at a time, that’d be an exaggeration, but I’m still walking and talking. That’s got to be a win.’ He checked his watch. ‘I better get a shift on – I want to talk to the forensic team over at Pender’s place.’

  ‘Do me a favour – take the night off. Leave the searches to Jackie O, and deal with it in the morning.’

  For once Finn didn’t feel like arguing. If there was evidence to be found, Jackie would find it. Besides, he suddenly felt very tired.

  ‘Rest, you silly man,’ whispered Karin.

  ‘Alright, boss,’ said Finn, not entirely sure he was talking to Skegman.

  Chapter 33

  It turned out to be a good choice. That evening Finn managed to allow himself to relax properly for perhaps the first time since Karin’s death. He wasn’t a man who pursued hobbies as such, but he did have interests. Sport was one of them. He treated it the way other people treated fine wines; he wasn’t interested in the cheap stuff at the lower end of the market. What absorbed him was the tactical battle. He loved watching the finest minds pit themselves against each other – it was the strategy that held his interest. He spent the evening sipping on a single malt, reading the biography of legendary American football coach Chuck Noll. Karin’s favourite album – Nick Cave’s The Boatman’s Call – played quietly in the background. That was another first, as he began to feel comfortable again filling the silence at home with music. As he made his way to bed it all felt a bit odd. There was almost a sense of betrayal, to have put Karin out of his mind, if only for a few hours. He was also aware it was the kind of evening that had so concerned her in Berlin – one spent enjoying his own company a bit too much.

  It turned into a hot and muggy night, and he didn’t sleep well. Random images of Karin resurfaced as he tried to get cool. He found himself dwelling on memories of their earliest dates, moments of domesticity, and worst of all, the sight of her at the end ravaged by chemotherapy. He tried to distract himself by solving her riddle about the blind dog in the forest, but still couldn’t divine its meaning. He wondered if in part that was subconsciously deliberate. A little piece of her he was keeping alive by not solving it. His thoughts drifted on to the investigation, but it wasn’t Kevin Pender who preoccupied him. There was something about those former firefighters that wouldn’t leave him. The dead look behind Martin Walker’s eyes, matched only by Phil Maddox’s haunted expression as he’d told the story of the child he’d failed to save. They weren’t just men hiding a secret, they were being consumed by one. He decided if the searches at Pender’s house were still ongoing in the morning he’d visit Earlsfield Fire Station first thing instead. He’d read the reports of the Pacific Square blaze several times now. He wanted to talk to someone else who was there. Someone who wasn’t part of Walker’s crew.

  Paulsen spent her evening fielding more questions from Nancy about the man who’d visited her at work. Mattie batted them away, but her irritation with Skegman and Finn wasn’t so easily banished. It didn’t sit with her to be passive in the face of intimidation. If someone was sending a message, then you sent one back. ‘Try and ignore it,’ Skegman had said. It felt patronising.

  They’d spent the evening slumped on the sofa in front of the television irregularly distracted by their phones. But as she watched Nancy, cross-legged and studying her handset, Mattie could only wonder why she and Finn were targeted. It can only have come from someone inside – again, the possibility didn’t seem to unduly bother her superiors. It should have. The idea of a corrupt police officer handing over their details turned her stomach.

  The unease stayed with her through the evening and that night Mattie Paulsen dreamt. She was somewhere high, the cityscape spread out in front of her, and she was angry but couldn’t remember why. There was a face too, the face that was always there. The one with the affable smile, gleaming white teeth and clear blue eyes. Somewhere there was a liquid brown voice, which began every sentence with the word ‘mate’. And she was advancing towards him. Again.

  She woke with a start, soaked in her own sweat, and stared up at the ceiling. She and the man in her dream weren’t done with one another yet.

  Chapter 34

  The next morning Finn felt surprisingly refreshed despite his lack of sleep. He chec
ked in with Ojo, but there’d been no evidence uncovered at Pender’s house overnight to link him to the crime scenes. No new witnesses had come forward either. It was a concern, but he’d half expected it. If they couldn’t charge him, then they’d have to release him at two that afternoon or apply to a magistrate for an extension. But at eight o’clock in the morning, he wasn’t worried – there was still plenty of time for something to happen. It would almost be a break with tradition if it didn’t come at the last minute.

  He decided to follow his overnight instinct and go directly to Earlsfield Fire Station and talk to the station manager there, Sarah Connelly. He’d recognised her name from the reports he’d read on the Pacific Square fire, and knew she’d worked directly with Walker’s crew on the night. There was just a chance she might remember a small detail which could unlock something, even if she didn’t realise its relevance herself. Finn was shown up to a small second-floor office where he was introduced to a no-nonsense woman in her mid-forties.

  ‘I was at Lambeth Station at the time. I transferred to Earlsfield a year or two after Pacific Square. Been here ever since and it’s worked out well.’ She said the words factually rather than with any great emotion, and Finn sensed a degree of suspicion. It didn’t surprise him – the two services didn’t historically mix brilliantly. There wasn’t a good reason for it, and in his experience it never got in the way when things mattered. He often felt it was like watching two dogs eyeing each other up in the park; same animal – two entirely different breeds.

  ‘Did you know Adesh Kaul and Gary Elder?’

  ‘I knew of them. In this job you often come across firefighters from other stations in the course of events. One Pacific Square certainly wasn’t the first time we’d worked together.’

  ‘What about Walker, Portbury and Maddox?’

  ‘Same again. I used to see a lot of Martin Walker in particular. He was a crew manager, like me. Proper old school – I liked him.’

  ‘I should imagine the news about Kaul and Elder must have come as something of a shock to people here?’

  ‘Yes, there’s still a lot people here who worked with them back then. So, before we get into anything else, I’d like to know where you’re at with your investigation?’

  ‘Of course. At this point it looks like it might be connected to a business Kaul and Elder set up after leaving the job. We’ve made an arrest and we’re holding someone in custody.’

  ‘Have you charged them?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Are you confident it’s this bloke?’

  ‘Not a hundred per cent,’ said Finn honestly. Connelly nodded, appreciating his candour.

  ‘So what is it you think I can help you with?’

  ‘I’m after information in the first instance. There are gaps in our knowledge, and I’m trying to build up a picture of who these men were.’

  ‘That’s fair enough, I suppose.’ She sat back in her chair, with an almost resigned expression.

  ‘Were the five who retired particularly close?’

  ‘Why’s that relevant? I thought this was just about Kaul and Elder?’

  Again Finn could feel resistance. He was trying to build up some trust with Connelly before he broached Pacific Square. She was blunt and uncomplicated, which he liked. The wariness was getting in the way though, and he needed her to get past that.

  ‘Like I say, the more I know about them the better. We’ve spoken to the others but they haven’t given much away.’

  ‘From what I remember, and from what I’ve been told by people here, they were very much a gang of five. They were part of Red Watch, but tended to be a team within a team. It happens, and I’ve got no problem with that as long as it doesn’t become a clique.’

  ‘And did it?’

  ‘A little bit by the sounds of it. Like I say, a tight team isn’t necessarily a bad thing. When you’re in a life or death situation you want people around you who you trust. I’m sure it’s the same with police. I don’t mind it as long as it doesn’t exclude others.’

  ‘So why do you think they all left within such a short space of time of one another?’

  ‘As I understand it, they didn’t leave en masse. You’re making it sound a lot more dramatic than it was, if you don’t mind me saying.’

  Finn decided to get to the point.

  ‘The Pacific Square fire seems to have been the catalyst. Did you not think that was odd – seems quite a coincidence?’

  ‘Not really. We know a lot more about PTSD now. Or to be more accurate, the job is a lot more sensitive to it than it used to be back then.’

  ‘And you think that’s what it was?’

  ‘I was there at Pacific Square. It took me a long time to shake it off. No firefighters died, but sometimes you don’t measure these things by numbers. I saw people with severe burns, others with life-changing injuries. There were experienced men and women in tears afterwards. Plenty of people suffered from trauma after it, and quite a few left the job too.’

  It didn’t quite tally for Finn. He wasn’t insensitive to the point Connelly was making – far from it. He’d seen it in police officers too. But he’d talked to Martin Walker and Phil Maddox himself, looked them in the eye. He was sure they were hiding something. He also couldn’t get away from his suspicion that Erik Whitlock was alive when they entered the building. He decided to chance his arm.

  ‘So tell me about the rumours?’

  ‘What rumours?’

  ‘That something changed with them after the Pacific Square fire,’ he lied.

  ‘Who told you that?’

  ‘Did you ever hear anything like that?’ She hesitated, which pretty much answered his question. ‘If I’m going to keep them safe, then I really do need to know everything. Until we’ve charged someone, I have to cover all bases.’

  She sighed and looked out of the window for a moment as if pondering the wisdom of what to say next.

  ‘There was something. It was before my time so this is second hand. Apparently Elder once drunkenly claimed he could retire whenever he wanted and didn’t need to work again. Said he’d Pacific Square to thank for that.’

  ‘What did you think of that?’

  ‘Sounded like the usual Gary Elder bollocks. He was well known as someone with a mouth on him. But you know what . . . he never did work again, did he?’

  For a moment she looked troubled, as if there was something else. Finn pushed on.

  ‘According to the report I read, you arrived pretty much at the same time as Walker’s pump.’

  Connelly nodded.

  ‘So did anything strike you as odd, either on the night or afterwards?’

  ‘I can only tell you what I remember. I was in radio contact with Walker when he led the breathing apparatus team into the building. They found a body, but reported it trapped. They wanted to bring it out but were running low on air.’

  ‘What happened next?’

  ‘After they came out, the next BA team went in to try and establish a bridgehead. The aim at that point was to try and stop the fire from spreading, but you know how that turned out.’

  ‘So, Walker’s team were the first BA team to go in. They only went up three floors and were already running out of air. I mean, I’m not a firefighter but I’ve worked with enough crews, been at enough scenes to know that sounds a bit premature.’

  ‘What’s your point?’ Again she looked uncomfortable.

  ‘Was it?’

  ‘There were stretches when they were up there when they weren’t responding. I’m not talking about losing radio contact, but not responding. Ordinarily that’s no biggie, because things obviously happen in those situations and you can’t always talk—’

  ‘But given what Elder was mouthing off about later, it’s stuck in your mind?’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t see or hear anything which gave me cause for concern.’

  ‘Was there enough time for something out of the ordinary to have happened up there?’

  �
�I don’t see how anything could have happened. They tried to get Whitlock’s body out, but couldn’t. Their air was running out, and when they came out they were empty-handed. I saw that with my own eyes.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Absolutely. It’s not like I was on my own either. There were plenty of other witnesses.’

  Again, she looked as if there was something on the tip of her mind she was struggling to access.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  ‘To lose contact with one of them – okay, that happens. But there was a brief window where they all went silent. The signal should have been fine. I should have questioned them about it afterwards, but as you can imagine there were more pressing things to deal with at the time.’ She paused, then continued. ‘Let me ask you something, DI Finn. What are you gaining from pursuing this?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘You tell me you’ve got someone in custody, and that you’re one piece of evidence away from charging them. But you come here – why?’

  The question was a valid one and it’d been nagging at him since the small hours; a suspicion slowly digging its way out and forcing its way to the surface.

  ‘Because I’m not sure the killing’s over yet.’

  Chapter 35

  Detective Sergeant Mike Godden was enjoying a reassuringly uneventful morning. Warrender was holed up in his office doing God knows what, while Farmer was still quietly ploughing through his paperwork. Things with him still weren’t quite right following their uneasy confrontation the previous day. There’d been an awkward greeting as they’d passed each other on the stairs first thing, a wariness behind his eyes which hadn’t been there before.

  Today wasn’t a day for more conflict though. He was more than happy to keep his head down at his desk and let things calm down after the previous day’s dramas. There was plenty to get on with too. He was surprisingly diligent about his work, given his divided loyalties. He genuinely didn’t know where the proceeds of the Stansted heist were. He’d never asked Spinney, and he’d never been told. It protected them both. He didn’t need to know and thus was free to investigate with freedom. One day he’d write a book – probably from a prison cell – on how to screw a police investigation from the inside because there really was an art to it.