by S J Grey
Caleb raced up the track and saw the truth of it. Flames poured out of the downstairs windows. The house was well ablaze. He got the alarm over an hour ago. Had it been burning all this time? Without anyone noticing?
He stopped the bike, killed the engine, and stared at the inferno. This had been his home for the longest time, but he felt no attachment to it. It was more Joss’s place than his, and he was glad she wasn’t here to see this.
At least it was empty. And he had insurance.
Blue and red strobes lit up the walls, and a wailing siren approached. Caleb turned to see two fire engines and a police car. He removed his helmet and climbed off the bike. Waving his arms, he flagged down the first of the fire engines.
“It should be empty,” he told the fireman who climbed out. “Nobody’s been living here for months.”
A cop joined them. “Did you call this in?” He asked Caleb, raising his voice over the noise.
“No. One of the neighbours, maybe?”
“We were told there might be squatters living here,” said the fireman. His crew were busy with ladders and hoses, and suiting up with breathing apparatuses.
“There won’t be.” He’d have seen them on the security feed.
“We can’t take the chance. We’ll check.” The fireman strode away.
“If you didn’t report this, sir, what are you doing here?” The cop stared at Caleb.
“It’s my house.”
“You just said nobody’s living here.”
Caleb suppressed his sigh. “I don’t live here anymore. It’s on the market. My alarm system notified me of a problem, and I came straight here.”
“Why didn’t you call triple-one?”
“Because I wanted to see what tripped the alarm. I didn’t know there was a fire.”
The cop tugged a notebook from his pocket and started scribbling. “I need to take your details, sir. Name, address, and phone number to start with.”
This time he sighed. “Caleb Rush. I live at number one-eighty-six, The Parade, Owhiro Bay.” He rattled off his phone number, but the cop was staring at him.
“Caleb Rush?”
“Correct.”
“Didn’t your sister die here?”
He felt his jaw tighten. “Correct.”
“House is on the market, you said?”
“Yep. I live in the city, now.” Like I said, he muttered inside his head. This was a good time to dial back on the snark.
“What time did your alarm go off?”
“A bit more than an hour ago. I came straight here.”
A crashing sound made Caleb jump. He spun around to see part of the roof on the ground and fresh flames erupting into the night sky.
The firemen were shouting to each other. What did they just say? Caleb strained to hear them.
“Stay here.” The cop ran toward the house, barking something into the radio on his lapel.
What happened? Was one of the firemen hurt?
The ash and smuts made Caleb’s eyes sting and blurred his vision. He wiped at his face, but it didn’t make much of a difference.
Two firemen were carrying out a body. They laid it with care on the grass.
Caleb couldn’t drag his gaze away. His heart damn near stopped beating. Someone was in there? How? Were they still alive? Why wasn’t someone doing first aid? Giving oxygen?
They covered the face with a blanket. Fuck.
Caleb blew out a breath and wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. Someone died in his house. He knew—he just knew—this was going to be ugly.
Chapter Eleven
The remains of Caleb’s house was now a crime scene. Cops were everywhere, and Caleb was told to sit and wait. A tired-looking detective strolled up to him. “Mr. Rush?”
Caleb nodded and pushed to his feet. Why did he come here tonight? He could still be in bed, miles away from this disaster zone, if he’d ignored the alarm. Instead, he was cold and damp from the grass beneath him, and he stunk of smoke and burned wood. It’d take hours to clean the smuts from his bike. He was tired, and his mind was drifting. He focused on the cop.
“DS Miller,” said the detective. “I need you to come to the station to make a statement.”
“Now, or can I do it tomorrow?”
“Now, please.”
Caleb picked up his helmet and was about to mount the bike, when the cop stepped forward. “You can leave that here.”
Nope. He didn’t do anything wrong. Like last time, chirped a voice in his brain. “Tell me where to meet you, and I’ll ride there.” He scowled at DS Miller. “Or are you arresting me for… What? Burning my own house down?”
Miller shrugged. “Most arsonists stay at the scene. Would you have a reason for setting it on fire? With someone inside?”
Caleb wanted to laugh at how crazy the idea was. “You’re serious?”
It was difficult to tell in the dim light, but Miller’s expression seemed to harden. “I’m asking you to come and make a statement. Is that a problem?”
Caleb couldn’t allow himself to be intimidated. “I’ll ride there. I’ll follow your car or meet you at the station. If I was going to leave, I’d have done it by now.”
Miller stared at him, and then nodded. “You’re on parole. If you don’t attend, it won’t look good.”
Nope. Not rising to the bait. “Should I follow you?” Likewise, Caleb wasn’t going to sit in an interview room for hours on end, while they tried to pin something on him. Been there, done that.
“Sure. Give me five minutes.”
It gave Caleb time to make a phone call. Jonathan said he could ask for whatever he needed, and maybe Emma was right about the legal help. He dialled Jonathan’s number and listened to it ringing. Come on, pick up.
“‘Lo?”
“It’s Caleb. I might need your help.”
“Sweet baby Jesus. It’s nearly four in the morning. What’s up?”
“I have to go make a statement to the police. Any chance you have a tame lawyer on hand that can come with me?” Caleb tried very hard to sound nonchalant but his guts were cramping. Anxiety spiralled inside him, filling his throat.
“On it.” Jonathan sounded wide awake now. “Where are you? Is there a police officer with you?”
“I’ll go find him. DS Miller, I think he said.”
“Miller? Thirties-ish, receding hairline, rumpled appearance?”
“You know him?”
“He’s one of the good guys. I have his number, and I’ll call him now. Sit tight, Caleb. And don’t say anything.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
Jonathan tsked. “What did I just say? Nothing. Nada. Keep your mouth shut until we get there. And by the way, where are you?”
“Right now? I’m at Peka Peka.”
“They probably want you at Paraparaumu. See you soon.” He disconnected.
*
Sit tight and say nothing.
It was easy in principle, but when Caleb sat in a police interview room, his stomach churning with fear, it was impossible. It would take at least an hour for Jonathan to get here. Longer, for whatever lawyer he dug up. Could Caleb bite his tongue for that long?
Everything about this room took him back to the night of his arrest. The dull, echoing noises from the corridor outside. The lack of windows. The astringent smell of recently applied disinfectant. The sour stink of his sweat.
He shifted in the hard, plastic chair and tried not to stare at the uniformed cop on watch by the door.
Eyes down. Stare at the table instead. Metal-topped, it bore multiple scratches, names scraped into the surface, and swear words aplenty. It was like a dictionary of slang, laid out for him to read.
The door opened, and Caleb lifted his head.
It was DS Miller, carrying two paper cups of coffee. “Sorry about the wait,” he said, breezy, as if they were hanging out together. As if the guy wasn’t out to find some chink in Caleb’s armour and lock him up again.
No. Don’t thi
nk like that. Caleb wasn’t under arrest. He’d done nothing. He kept his mouth shut.
“Coffee? And there’s sugar if you take it.” Miller dropped a couple of packets on the table, and then handed a cup to Caleb. “It’s not flash, but it’s caffeine.”
“Thanks.”
“For what it’s worth, I was the investigating officer in charge when your sister died. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Caleb never knew how to reply to that. Thank them? Say okay? Social niceties were never his strength. He sought for something neutral to say. Something other than, Shitty job you did, eh. “Do you still think it was an accident?” he blurted.
Miller sat back. With coffee in hand, he looked relaxed. His eyes were serious, though. His gaze threatened to penetrate Caleb’s skull. “That was the official finding.”
“That’s bullshit. The house was trashed. Even if she fell in the river trying to get away, she was an excellent swimmer. You didn’t know my sister. Joss was tough. She could look after herself.”
“Between you and me, I was never happy with the result. I wondered if there was another option. It looked like murder at first.”
“So why did you change your mind?”
Miller shrugged. “There was no evidence of foul play.” He took a sip of his drink. “If any could be found, it’d change things. We might be able to re-open the case.”
Where was this leading? Caleb wrapped his hands around the cup and refrained from speaking.
“You believe it wasn’t an accident. Am I right?” Miller continued. “In your shoes, I’d want to find who did this. You wouldn’t take justice into your own hands, though. Not after one term in prison. You wouldn’t want to go back, would you?”
So Miller was one of the good guys, huh? Yeah, right. Finally, Caleb found the words he needed. “I’m not saying anything until my lawyer gets here.”
If Miller was frustrated, he didn’t show it. “We’re having a conversation. Don’t need a lawyer for that.”
“A conversation you’re taping.”
“We tape everything in these rooms. It keeps us honest.”
Caleb snorted. “Sure.”
“Mistakes can happen, Mr. Rush. On both sides. Like…” Miller took a drink. “Hmmm… Like if you made a mistake about the squatter in your house.”
“There weren’t any squatters.”
“That’s what you told the fire service, too. You were adamant that they didn’t check the house for people.”
“I had cameras in there. I’d have seen anyone going in.”
“They pulled out a body, Mr. Rush. If they hadn’t gone in, which is what you suggested, that body would have been incinerated in the fire. Might have made things difficult for identification purposes. Know what I mean?”
Caleb knew where this was leading. It was a script as clear as anything. They wanted to pin this guy’s death on him. Nope. Not happening this time. His heart pounded so hard it hurt, but he crossed his arms and sat back. “I’m waiting for my lawyer.”
The silent staring contest with DS Miller was brief. The cop finished his drink and left.
Caleb took his time drinking the coffee, spinning out the minutes until help arrived. He needed to unpick the story and figure out what the fuck was going on—and what they were trying to pin on him.
He had proof of the alarm’s being tripped and the system’s alerting him. There’d almost certainly be traffic-cam footage of his drive out of the city. It’d be enough to prove his story was true.
There had been a guy inside the house though, and he must have been the one who tripped the alarm. That was kinda obvious.
How did the fire start? Was it some random drunk, looking for shelter from the cold weather? Caleb’s house was in the middle of nowhere. Passers-by were unlikely.
There was also the question of who called the emergency services. And why they mentioned squatters. It had to be a neighbour, such as they were.
Jeez, but he was fed up of this. If he wasn’t so amped up, he’d try to doze until the lawyer arrived.
It felt like hours before the door opened and DS Miller returned with a sharp-suited stranger. Well-groomed and smug looking at this time in the morning, he had to be the lawyer.
“Mr. Rush? I’m Arthur Grafton. Jonathan asked me to represent you.” The guy turned to face DS Miller. “I understand that my client hasn’t been charged with anything. He’s here on a purely voluntary basis.”
Voluntary. Sure.
“He agreed to provide a statement,” said Miller. “Which he hasn’t done yet.”
“And he can do that tomorrow. During business hours.”
“He’s here.” Miller opened his hands wide. “While everything is fresh in his head. I’d hate for him to forget some of the details between now and tomorrow.”
“He’s far more likely to remember those details when he’s well rested. If you don’t have anything to charge him with, there’s no reason for him to still be here. He’ll come back tomorrow and provide you with a statement.”
Grafton’s smile reminded Caleb of a shark, but this time, it was a shark on his side, and what a fucking difference that made.
“Come on,” said Grafton to Caleb. “Do you need a ride home?”
Caleb scrambled to his feet, tiredness dissipating. “My bike’s outside. I just need to pick up my things.”
Grafton was silent at Caleb’s side while taking his possessions back. His phone, keys, and helmet had all been confiscated on arrival.
When they got outside, Caleb sucked in a deep breath of the cold night air. Freedom tasted good. “Thanks, man,” he said to the lawyer. “What happens now?”
“Let’s go sit in my car, and you can tell me why I needed to be dragged out of bed in the middle of the night.”
His car was a shiny Audi with a sparkling leather interior. Caleb hoped the dust and ash on his clothes didn’t make a mess.
Grafton switched on a voice-recorder and set it on the dashboard. “Tell me everything that happened tonight.”
It didn’t take long to explain about the alarm and the ride up to Peka Peka, the body in the house, and the demand that Caleb be interviewed immediately.
“Okay. Jonathan must have told you to keep quiet. Did you say anything to the police?”
Did he? There was that conversation about Joss. “Miller was talking about my sister’s death, and I got pissed off, but I don’t think I said anything they can use against me.”
Grafton sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “God save me from clients who don’t think,” he muttered. “I’ll accompany you back here tomorrow, say, early afternoon? You can give your statement, and I’ll fend off any tricky questions. And this time, say nothing. Not a single fucking word unless I say so. Okay?”
Caleb liked this guy. “Okay.”
“Here’s my card. If anything else happens, call me immediately. Failing that, let me know what time to meet you here for the statement. You need to be careful, Mr. Rush. But I don’t need to tell you that.”
Thursday 4 April
Chapter Twelve
By the time Caleb got home, it was the start of his working day. He fed Minerva, and then stood under the shower for the longest time. He wanted to wash away the stink of the interview room, along with the smoke from his house. No chance of selling it now. It was a relief that he kept the insurance payments up to date.
His bike had to make do with a quick wipe down, and so did his leather jacket.
Next on his list was coffee. He rode into town and walked to his favourite café. Standing in line, for once he didn’t pay attention to the people around him. When Andi tapped his arm, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Holy crap.” He tried to find a smile for her, but it wasn’t happening. Not today.
“Hey, boss. Sorry. Did I startle you?” She peered at him. “You look like shit. Did you pull an all-nighter after all?”
The conversation yesterday, when Caleb told his team to go home early, felt
like a year ago. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Nah. Something else kept me up. My shout for the coffees. What do you want?”
Her lips curved in a smile. “I already ordered, thanks. I’ve been standing here for five minutes. You really didn’t see me?” She nodded to the barista behind the counter. “Your turn to order.”
Yep. Caleb’s concentration was shot to pieces. He pulled himself together, ordered a large triple-shot flat white with two sugars, and swiped his card.
Andi sniffed. “And you smell like a bonfire. What did I miss?”
“My house burned down last night.”
“What?” Her mouth dropped open. “You got out okay? What happened?”
He steered her away from the line of people waiting to be served. “It’s my old place, not where I’m living now. No idea how it happened, but I didn’t get home until after six.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. Did you lose much?”
“Naw. It was empty while I tried to sell it. They found someone inside, though. They think it was a squatter that’d moved in.”
“That’s awful. Do they think it was an accident?”
“Fucked if I know.” Where was that damned coffee? He needed it. He tried to focus on the day ahead. “What’s the plan for today? Are you trying to get into the target site?”
“Yeah. I was checking them out on social media last night. They have a fire-alarm test on the first Thursday of every month. Maybe we could arrange an evacuation this time, and a few of us mingle with the staff while they wait outside?”
“And tailgate them in? Don’t forget to take pictures when you get inside, to prove how much you gained access to.”
“Of course. I also learned that the executive team are on the top floor, so Jonathan might be a better option to get up there. I’ll hang out with the staff. Looks like the IT department has a casual dress code, so I’ll fit right in.”