After the Fire (13 page)

‘My favourite kind of person,’ I said. ‘I like people who notice things. I imagine it wasn’t so easy for you to get to know everything about everyone when you moved to your flat.’

The reply was instant. ‘Well, it was more difficult. No windows, you see, except the ones looking out over the streets and I was too high up to see much. No, that was no use. But I did get to see people coming and going. And the great thing was that they couldn’t see me.’

‘How was that?’

She nodded at Young Kevin. ‘He set up a camera for me.’

‘Just so she could see people calling to the door.’ He looked worried. ‘It wasn’t wrong, was it? But the peephole was bloody rubbish and I’d heard about old – older people being attacked when they answer the door, so I wanted her to be able to see who was standing outside.’

‘Do you mean a CCTV camera?’

‘All I had to do was look on the television. Channel 773.’ She smiled. ‘Young Kevin is so clever.’

I turned to him, my fingers crossed. ‘Did it record to tape? Or disc?’

‘It was a live feed.’

‘Nothing recorded?’ I said, hope fading.

‘No.’

Which left what Mrs Hearn had seen.

‘What sort of view did you have?’ I asked, trying not to betray too much interest in case it made her nervous. ‘Just in front of your door?’

‘Oh no. I could see the whole corridor. Everyone coming and going.’

‘It was a fisheye lens,’ Young Kevin explained.

She smiled. ‘It was like having my own television programme. Better than
EastEnders
. I got to know everyone.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘I had to give them nicknames. I didn’t know who they really were. But I felt as if I was getting to know them.’

‘Who did you see? The people who lived there?’

‘And their visitors. And the people who seemed to come now and then but didn’t live there.’

‘Like who?’

‘Well, like the boy and his mother who moved in a little while ago. I called her Judy and I called him Luke because he reminded me of Luke – do you remember, Kevin? Luke who used to live at number eight? Gorgeous little lad but he was killed by a car.’

Melissa Pell and her son. I nodded, encouraging her. ‘What did you notice about them?’

‘She always checked the corridor before she let him out of the flat. She’d come out and look around – check the stairwell and so forth – and then she’d call him if the coast was clear.’

‘If the coast was clear,’ I repeated.

‘I don’t know what was worrying her,’ Mrs Hearn said, ‘but she was afraid of something. Or someone. I was mugged myself so I didn’t blame her for being careful. Luke was so good – such a well-behaved little fellow. Always muffled up with scarves and hats so you could barely see him.’ She chuckled. ‘He liked to press the button for the lift. Just liked pressing it. He knew it was broken.’

‘Who else did you notice?’

‘The gang at the end. The gangsters.’

‘In which flat?’ I checked my floorplan.

‘The one at the end on my side. They weren’t really gangsters – it’s a family. Granny and parents and children.’

‘The Bellews.’

‘I don’t know their name.’

‘Why do you call them the gangsters?’

‘All the coming and going. People calling to the door at all hours. And him and his brother going out late and early, looking for trouble.’ Her eyes were bright. ‘I’m making it up, you know.’

‘You’re not in court,’ I said with a smile. ‘Your impressions are a great help to me – you don’t have to have proof. What else did you notice?’

What hadn’t she noticed? She’d seen the man in 106 feeling up the woman from 109 in the hallway, late one night when they’d been having a party in 107. She’d seen the young mother in 108 with a new boyfriend every week. She’d seen the man in 104 come and go once a week, every week, regular as clockwork.

‘I don’t know what he was doing on the Maudling Estate. He looked too rich for the likes of us. Beautiful suits.’ She ran a hand over the sheet that covered her. ‘You could tell. Quality.’

‘Did you recognise him?’ I asked.

‘No. I’d never met him.’

I showed her a picture of Armstrong. ‘Could this be the man?’

‘That’s him.’ She nodded. ‘Who is he?’

I didn’t answer her. ‘Did you see who he was meeting?’

‘Someone who didn’t want to be noticed. She always had the hood up on her coat or a shawl over her head.’

‘Can you describe her?’

‘Tall. Dark complexion. Elegant – you know. Slim.’

‘When you say a dark complexion, do you mean she was black?’

She nodded. I sat back on my chair. That would explain a lot, including why Armstrong had wanted to keep his visits a secret.

‘What sort of age was she?’ I was expecting her to say the woman was young, but she frowned.

‘Maybe … thirty-five? Forty?’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Just the way she carried herself. Like she was thinking about how she moved. Young people just … go. She always seemed very aware of how she walked.’ Mrs Hearn shook her head. ‘This is such rubbish, isn’t it? A lonely old woman, inventing stories about people.’

‘It’s very useful indeed,’ I said. ‘Was there anything else you noticed about your neighbours?’

She thought. ‘Nothing that stands out.’

‘Can I ask about yesterday? Did you notice anything strange or unusual before the fire?’

‘I wasn’t watching what was going on in the hall. It was a nice day and I read for a while. I dozed.’ She looked apologetic. ‘I didn’t know it was going to be important.’

‘That’s okay. Did you hear anything? Any arguments?’

‘No. I heard people coming and going. The door to the stairwell always banged, you know, and I’d hear them going in and out. If they were talking they made a lot of noise. The voices echoed in the stairwell. It woke me up sometimes.’

Young Kevin shook his head. ‘Thoughtless.’

‘They were living,’ she said, with a forcefulness that surprised both of us. ‘They were falling in love and being families and making friends and fighting. What was I doing that couldn’t be interrupted? Waiting to die?’

‘Mrs Hearn,’ Young Kevin said, and it was a reproach.

‘I’m sorry, Kevin, but it’s the truth. Since George died I’ve been existing. There’s nothing left for me. You don’t need me.’

‘I do.’ He put his hand on hers. ‘We all do.’

I waited for a minute before I interrupted them. ‘When did you become aware of the fire?’

‘I heard running in the corridor. That wasn’t unusual. But there was someone shouting too. And then the alarm went off.’

‘The smoke alarm?’

‘In my flat. And then of course I smelled the smoke.’

‘Did you think about leaving?’

‘I looked on the television and I saw people going to the stairs, but I couldn’t see much. The hall was full of smoke. I can’t even tell you who was there and who wasn’t.’

‘That’s all right. We’re working that out.’ I smiled at her. ‘Did you try to go out?’

‘No. I thought I’d be too slow. I’d get in people’s way. Maybe get knocked over.’ She clutched the sheet. ‘I don’t like big crowds of people. They don’t care about you. They don’t notice if you’re not too steady on your feet.’

‘So you called the fire brigade.’

She nodded. ‘They told me to stay where I was. They said they’d come and get me and they did. So it all worked out perfectly. Except that they wouldn’t let me bring much with me.’

‘They don’t, as a rule.’

‘I just took my handbag. That’s all I have.’ She looked very small in her hospital gown. ‘When do you think I can go back?’

‘Not for a while,’ I said, thinking of the damage to Murchison House and how it would be a prime opportunity to demolish the whole thing. ‘But you won’t have to stay in hospital. They’ll find you somewhere else to go.’

‘You can come and live with us,’ Young Kevin said.

‘You don’t have room for me.’

‘We’ve got a spare room and no one’s using it.’

Mrs Hearn smiled, although I thought she was on the verge of tears. ‘I’d love that. It would be like going home.’

When I left, Young Kevin followed me into the corridor.

‘Have you seen the flat? Mrs Hearn was wondering about her things. Photographs, you know. Her jewellery. I didn’t want to ask you in there in case it was bad news.’

‘There was quite a bit of smoke damage but I don’t think the fire took hold in her flat. I’m sure some of it will be recoverable.’

‘Can I go and take a look?’

I shook my head. ‘The fire investigator is still working there and I’m not sure if it’s safe for civilians at the moment.’

‘Can you let me know? It’s just’ – he glanced back at the hospital room – ‘she doesn’t have much. I helped her move and she had almost nothing left. She kept the things that really mattered to her. I want to get them back for her, if I can.’

‘I’ll do what I can,’ I said. ‘You’re very good to help her out like this.’

Kevin leaned against the wall. ‘I feel like I let her down.’

‘She doesn’t think that.’

‘She’s had a hard life. No kids. And her husband dying—’ He sighed. ‘She wasn’t the same after.’

‘These things happen,’ I said, knowing I sounded patronising. Husbands died, though. People had to deal with their tragedies. No one got out of life unscathed, in my experience.

Young Kevin was still wallowing in guilt. ‘I left her there on her own and I never checked to see she was all right. She’d been mugged, did you know that? I didn’t know that. Broke her wrist. No wonder she was too scared to go into the corridor. Watching them all on the telly.’ He shook his head. ‘She was in prison, basically. And I helped to put her there. She’s not going back.’

‘It will be a long time before the flat is habitable.’

‘She’s not going back,’ Young Kevin repeated, looking as fierce as his rounded features would allow. ‘I don’t know where she’ll end up, but not there. Not if I have anything to do with it. I’m all she has left and I’m not going to let her down again.’

I WAS IN
two minds about whether to go and find Derwent, to relieve him from his lonely vigil. Mrs Hearn’s impression of the family suggested pretty strongly that Carl Bellew wasn’t a simple handyman, that he was up to no good and that Debbie had been right to have her concerns about the fire. On the other hand, I hadn’t found out anything substantive. I was wondering about drug-dealing. I was wondering if Carl and his brother were professional burglars. I had more questions than answers as a result of talking to Mrs Hearn, and Derwent was perfectly capable of asking the right questions himself without any input from me.

But I desperately wanted to share with someone – anyone – what I had learned about the woman who was presumably Geoff Armstrong’s girlfriend. I headed for the double doors that led to the corridor, and had almost reached them when one of them burst open. I stepped back out of the way, as Mal Upton came through the door, looking flustered. Chris Pettifer followed, his face lighting up when he saw me.

‘Just the girl I wanted.’

‘What can I do for you?’

‘You’re coming with us to see Melissa Pell, aren’t you?’

‘Is she awake?’

‘So I’m told.’

I fell into step beside them. ‘Then yes. Thanks for including me.’

Pettifer snorted. ‘Like I had a choice about it. Derwent would flay me alive and wear my skin as a coat if I didn’t.’

‘Picturesque,’ I said. ‘I’ll try not to get in your way.’

Mal was still looking upset. ‘What was all that about?’ he asked Pettifer.

‘What – the kid on the door? Just taking his job seriously, I should think.’

I started to laugh. ‘Did he give you a hard time?’

‘I didn’t think he was going to let us in.’

‘That would be my fault. I gave him a bit of a lecture earlier. I didn’t think he was being strict enough about people who were coming and going.’

‘Well, he sure as shit is now.’ Pettifer grinned. ‘And Mal got the worst of it.’

‘That makes a lot more sense.’ Mal glanced at me. ‘No wonder he was scared if you shouted at him. You’re terrifying.’

‘This is a total myth,’ I said. ‘I’m not scary.’

‘That’s what you think. If you told me to jump, I’d ask how high.’ Mal’s face was very serious.

‘I’m so tempted to try.’

‘Please do.’ Pettifer folded his arms. ‘This I would pay to see.’

‘Some other time.’ I stopped. ‘This is Melissa’s room.’

‘How do you want to play this?’ Pettifer asked.

‘Let me take the lead, at least at first, in case she’s wary of men. Let’s see how she is. She’s been injured so she might not be feeling too bright.’ I bit my lip. ‘I don’t want to push her too far today. But I do want to know how she ended up with such serious injuries when Thomas walked out of the building unharmed.’

‘Anything else?’

‘I want to know why she had to run away in the first place.’

Melissa had her eyes closed when we walked in. The room was dim, the blinds drawn. I glanced back to warn the other two to be quiet. By the time I looked back at the bed, she was staring at me with one eye. The other was still swollen shut. Her eyelashes were dark but her hair was very fair, the curls far more delicate than mine. She was astonishingly pretty, allowing for the bandage on her head and the bruising.

‘Who are you?’

‘Maeve Kerrigan. I’m a detective constable. These are my colleagues.’ I indicated Upton and Pettifer, who were doing their best to look small and unthreatening. ‘We’re investigating the fire at Murchison House, Mrs Hathaway.’

‘Oh.’ She looked up at the ceiling, drifting a little. Then she snapped back to full attention. ‘Have you seen my son?’

‘I saw him after the fire,’ I said carefully. ‘He’s being very well looked after.’

‘Who’s got him?’ She reminded me of a cornered animal, halfway between angry and terrified.

‘Social services at the moment. But we’ve been in contact with your mother.’

Melissa coughed, her whole body shaking, before she could speak again. ‘Is she coming?’

I nodded. ‘As soon as she can.’

‘She knows where we are?’

‘We had to tell her.’ I hesitated. ‘Mrs Hathaway, do you want me to keep calling you by that name? Or should I use your real name?’