‘All right, girls, move along now. You’ve all got homes to go to.’

A small knot of teenage girls lingered by the police tape, chattering, shouting and occasionally taking snaps of the house. As Charlie called over to them, they turned, but made no move to leave. They went back to their chat, keeping a wary eye on the smartly dressed officer who seemed intent on intruding on their day. Watching them, Charlie felt a sudden spike of irritation and anger. This was somebody’s home, not a bloody shopping mall.

‘ Now, girls. It’s getting dark and there’s no reason for you to be hanging around here.’

Charlie had a sudden flash forward to what she would be like when Jessie was a teenager. Would Charlie have any credibility in her eyes as a successful career woman and authority figure? Or would having a policewoman for a mother be the ultimate disaster, a kind of social death that kept friends and boyfriends at a remove. Charlie was surprised to find that she was suddenly worried about this and chided herself for being foolish. There were bigger fish to fry right now.

‘Girls, I’m going to ask you for the last time to move on. I’m happy to drop you home in a police van, but I don’t think that would do you any favours, do you?’

Charlie was upon them now, raising her voice as she pointed them in the direction she wanted them to head in. There were a lot of cut-throughs and alleyways round here – even though there was safety in numbers, she would rather they made their way home along the high street.

‘She saw him,’ one of the girls replied tartly, her attitude to coppers shining through clearly.

‘Saw who?’

‘The guy what did this,’ the teenager answered, nodding towards the fire site.

‘Who saw him?’ Charlie asked, trying to keep the desperation from her voice.

‘Naomie,’ she said, pointing to another of her group. Naomie was mixed race, a little overweight and blushing to her roots. Blocking the others out, Charlie approached her.

‘Tell me what you saw, Naomie.’

The blushing girl seemed not to hear her, so Charlie pulled out her warrant card.

‘I’m DC Brooks. I’m working on this case and anything you can tell me would be very helpful.’

‘Tell her, girl. Tell the pig what you saw,’ the leader said, laughing.

In another situation, Charlie would have cautioned the little shit for that alone, but today she had to let it go.

‘Who did you see, Naomie?’ Charlie pressed. ‘I really don’t want to have to make this official, but I will if I have to. Please – tell me what you saw.’

Finally the gravity of the situation seemed to land home and the girl looked up. And as she did so, Charlie was surprised to see fear in her eyes.

‘I saw him.’

50

‘I know you’ve been over this with DC Brooks, but I’m going to need you to walk me through it again, ok?’

Helen looked across the table at Naomie Jackson, wondering if even at this late hour she might refuse to help them. According to Charlie, it had taken a lot of persuasion to get her to the police station at all. Now that she was here, ensconced in an interview suite with them, the nervous teenager seemed even less convinced of the wisdom of assisting them.

Naomie fiddled with her empty bottle of Sprite, spinning it round and round in her hands. To Helen’s eyes, she seemed a nice enough girl, but there was a massive hole where her self-esteem should have been. Her scruffy appearance, monosyllabic conversation and inability to look grown-ups in the eye were all testament to that. She was a follower, not a leader, and was no doubt cursing her mate for dumping her in it. But there was no time for mollycoddling – if Naomie had important information about the fires, Helen needed to have it.

‘We don’t want to cause you any trouble, Naomie. We won’t contact your mother if you don’t want us to. And DC Brooks will drop you anywhere you need to go when we’re done. She will be your point of contact from now on and any worries or concerns you have – about any of this – well, you can call her directly and she will be straight round to help. So please tell me what you saw.’

Naomie spun the bottle one more time, then said:

‘I saw a guy running down the cut-through.’

‘To be clear, this is the cut-through that leads on to Ramsbury Road?’

‘S’right.’

‘When was this?’

‘Just before closing time. I’d left the pub and was going home.’

Helen nodded, not reacting. Charlie shot a look at her, but Helen ignored it. Right place, right time for the CCTV – but Helen wasn’t getting her hopes up yet.

‘Where had you been?’

‘At a pub near the Common. I live in St Mary’s, so was walking back this way.’

‘And what did you see?’

‘This guy came up behind me real fast. Scared me half to death. I was on my own and that and it was dark and you hear all sorts happening to girls –’

‘And what was he doing?’ Charlie interrupted, anxious to keep the girl on track.

‘Running. Running real fast. He ran straight past me, never seemed to clock me at all.’

‘What was he wearing?’

‘Dark trousers and boots, I think.’

‘Any coat?’

‘Yeah, maybe. But his arms weren’t covered.’

Helen nodded. The details of the man they were after hadn’t appeared in the media yet, so unless this girl was lying or had seen the stills, then this was the lead they’d been searching for.

‘Did you see his face?’ Charlie asked gently.

Naomie shook her head.

‘He went by too fast.’

‘What about his hair colour?’

‘Brownish, I think.’

‘Height?’

‘ ’Bout six foot maybe.’

‘Anything else?’

The girl shook her head.

‘Anything at all?’ Helen repeated, trying not to sound as anxious as she felt. There was hardly anything in this description that they didn’t already know.

There was a long pause, before Naomie finally replied:

‘There was one other thing. He had a tattoo. On his arm.’

‘What did it look like, this tattoo?

‘It was a star, a big one.’

‘Anything else?’

‘The star had a crown and a flower in it. Kind of weird, you get me.’

Helen’s heart was beating faster now. Without looking, she could tell Charlie was feeling the same way.

‘What kind of flower was it, Naomie?’

Naomie thought hard, then finally said:

‘A red rose.’

‘You’re sure about that?’

‘Yeah, for real. Big one, it was.’

Helen nodded and thanked Naomie for her time. Leaving Charlie to run over the written statement with her, Helen hurried from the room. Already her mind was racing ahead, trying to see a way through the shit storm that now lay before her. Truth be told, there was no simple or obvious way forward. The case had just taken a decisive and unwelcome turn.

For in her own faltering way Naomie had perfectly described the crest of Hampshire’s Fire and Rescue Service.

51

‘This is complete bullshit.’

Adam Latham’s eyes were blazing and tiny flecks of spit shot from his mouth as he spoke. He was known to be a bullish, uncompromising guy, never more so than when he was defending his beloved Fire and Rescue Service.

‘There is no way that one of my guys would do something like that,’ he said. ‘I know each and every one of the men and women who serve under my command. I trained most of them, for God’s sake, and well … it’s just not possible.’

Helen was about to respond, when Gardam cut in. The three of them were gathered in his office for what had been billed as ‘a chat’.