True Colours (37 page)

Joe’s tone was heavy with sarcasm, ‘Very efficient. They wouldn’t want to have to pay out compo if a bit of a wall fell on someone’s head.’

Scuffing the gravel with the toe of his boot, Sebastian sighed. It was insured. It could all be restored. But would it ever be the same?

‘
That one looks like it got the same treatment.’ Joe nodded towards Alex’s Golf, the silver paint scratched and blistered, more scratches running the full length of the car.

Sebastian put his head on one side, looking at the cars. He hadn’t had a lot of sleep, had spent most of the night in the Intensive Care Unit at his grandfather’s bedside before the doctors had insisted he be assessed, knew his brain wasn’t moving as fast as it should be, but something wasn’t quite right. He just couldn’t place quite what. Then he saw it.

The front passenger window of Alex’s car had been smashed. Hit by debris perhaps, broken by one of the fire fighters maybe?

Unlikely.

Sebastian met Joe’s eye as he took a step closer, his boots crunching on the gravel. Something really wasn’t right here. Peering at the window, Sebastian could see that the glass was spidered, a central impact scattering tiny cubes, like pieces of ice, all over the interior of the car. Moving closer, throwing Joe an anxious glance, he looked inside the car.

On the front seat lay a rock, irregular, sharp-edged, around it a sugar frosting of broken glass.

Confused, Sebastian stared, trying to make sense of it. He turned back to Joe, hesitated, looked at the car again. ‘What the…?’

Then he saw something else.

Alex’s briefcase.

Lying on the ground beside the car, almost underneath it, the front flap was thrown open, the previously gleaming crocodile leather filthy, scuffed, punctured with small holes, like someone had pounded it with the rock in the car, or jumped on it, or both. Sebastian bent over, about to pick it up, but Joe’s voice stopped him.

‘
Probably better not to touch that.’

Straightening up, Sebastian held out his hand, indicating the car, the window, the briefcase, somehow unable to find the words.

‘
Surely it wasn’t vandals? So much damage?’ And then, shaking his head as if he didn’t believe it himself, Sebastian said, ‘We’re so far from the village here, we don’t get trouble like that. It doesn’t make sense.’

Joe cast an experienced eye over the car window, the rock on the seat, leaned over to look at the briefcase. ‘Hmm, could be. Do you know anyone who might want to do this type of damage?’

Sebastian shrugged helplessly. ‘Who on earth would want to do anything like this?’

Joe reached inside his jacket, pulled out a pair of pale blue latex gloves and a clear plastic zip-lock bag. He snapped the gloves on,

‘
Is the briefcase yours?’

Sebastian shook his head. ‘No, it belongs to a friend, to a…to Alex Ryan, she’s Tom’s daughter.’

Joe eased his hand under the edge of the case, picked something up from the gravel, slipping it into the plastic bag. It was about four inches long, slim, dagger like, covered in bright green suede.

‘
What on earth’s that?’

Joe shrugged. ‘We’ll let the technical team look at it will we?’ He paused. It was one of those loaded pauses. Sebastian looked at him, his eyes widening. He knew something about all this. Before Sebastian could get the words out, Joe continued, ‘I have to tell you we picked up a woman last night who reckons she knows you. She was driving erratically through the village, had a lot of drink consumed.’

‘
Knew me? Who…?’

‘
She said she was your fiancée.’

Sebastian looked at him in amazement, ‘Caroline? Caroline was in Kilfenora last night? Why didn’t she come to the house?’

Joe screwed up his face, working out the best way to phrase his answer. ‘It looks to me like she might have done.’

Sebastian looked at him like he was mad, not following. ‘She gave me this.’ Joe flipped open the top pocket of his bomber jacket, and pulling out another plastic evidence bag, handed it to Sebastian.

Turning it over in his hand, Sebastian nodded slowly, his eyebrows knitted together, his mind clicking into gear. ‘It’s her ring. Well, the family ring. The Wingfield Sapphire.’

‘
She reckons she doesn’t want it anymore. Seems to think…’ Joe paused, looking uncomfortable like he was trying find a tactful way of putting his next statement. ‘She thinks you’ve been cheating on her.’

‘
Me, cheating?’ Sebastian shook his head as Joe moved on, more comfortable with the facts, ‘She was pretty steamed up.’

Sebastian looked at him, disbelieving. ‘Surely you don’t think she had anything to do with all this?’

Joe shrugged, ‘She’d had a few, was behaving pretty irrationally when we pulled her in. We do have a witness who reckons she left before the fire started though, a guy called Blake, Jackson Blake. Said he had to drop some papers down to you last night, came down but couldn’t get an answer at the door. Said he left them in the conservatory. Saw her car leaving as he turned in the gate.’

‘
Jackson was here too?’ Sebastian looked back at him, dazed, as Joe cleared his throat,

‘
I had a word with John Reilly, he was the Incident Commander last night. Our technical boys will have to run some tests, but he’s pretty sure the blaze started at this end of the conservatory, near the drive.’

Sebastian screwed up his face. Jackson had been here? And Caroline?

Turning, Joe waved in the general direction of what had been the Palm House, ‘they found the remains of a paint brush on the lawn and the lid of a paint tin. The brush had been cleaned. They reckoned they might have been blown away from the house by the first explosion. Did you have anyone working here?’

Sebastian’s face creased in confusion, ‘Painters. Yes. Doing the Palm House. But…?’

‘
Did they clear everything away? Could they have left a tin of paint behind, maybe some turps?’

Sebastian shrugged, he still wasn’t getting it.

‘
It’s just they found some cigarette butts and a screwed-up packet near the front door. Gauloises I think they call them. They’re French.’ His tone was loaded

‘
But surely Caroline didn’t...?’

Joe shrugged, finishing the sentence for him, ‘Surely she didn’t vandalise your cars, smash up that laptop and then somehow set the place on fire?’

Sebastian looked at him aghast, a shiver running up his spine, his mouth dry, ‘Surely not?’

‘
I don’t know, honestly. It might have been an accident. Maybe she came back after your guy Jackson was here – he didn’t mention the damage to the cars. Maybe something was smouldering and he didn’t see it. A glowing cigarette thrown in the wrong direction, a spark carried on the wind. The painters will be able to tell us if they left anything flammable behind.’

Before he could say anything, Joe’s radio crackled into life. He grinned an apology, turned his back on Sebastian, turning down the sound, speaking into his lapel.

‘
Yes I’ll tell him, see what he wants to do.’

Joe turned back to Sebastian, taking his time. ‘That was the station, the hospital have been in touch with a message for you.’ But he didn’t get any further, Sebastian interrupted him,

‘
My grandfather?’

Joe nodded, ‘He’s conscious. They’re keeping a close eye on him. ‘

Sebastian stared blindly at the gravel feeling a surge of emotion he didn’t quite know how to control. Running his fingers through his hair, Sebastian’s voice caught as he spoke.

‘
So what’s the story with Caroline?’

‘
She’s up before the District Court after lunch for the drinking and driving. We’ll have another chat to her after the hearing about all this.’

FORTY FOUR

‘
Okay mate, that’s you wired for sound. It’s only a temporary line but it’ll do until you get the place back up and running.’

Sebastian prefaced his grin of appreciation with a nod as the telephone engineer dumped his toolbox with a clatter into the back of his distinctive white van, the orange and blue livery streaked in brackish mud. ‘Jesus I thought I’d seen it all mate, but this tops it. Best of luck. Hope you’re insured mate.’

Sebastian rolled his eyes. The statement was almost worn out.

It was almost lunchtime. And Kilfenora might have been silent this morning, desolate, weeping, but now it was a hive of activity.

First the Garda Technical Bureau team had arrived. Two enthusiastic lads in their thirties, pulling on their white Tyvek suits, already beginning to sweat in the unseasonable heat as the shorter guy pulled a huge steel toolbox from the back of their van. Standing at the top of the steps, his hands thrust into the pockets of his borrowed jeans, Sebastian watched them, fascinated, as they photographed the area from a hundred different angles – the cars, the house, Alex’s briefcase. Then, as they produced a row of mysterious steel pots, balancing them on the top tray of the box, he watched silently as they set to work on the cars. It was a painstaking process, detailed, laborious. And just a little bit creepy. Sebastian rubbed the tops of his arms. Despite the sunshine, he felt chill, shivery right to the core.

The two guards worked quickly, going over his car first, dusting with retractable brushes that shimmered and shivered like those weird fibre optic lamps, but, weighted with magnetic powder, they looked more like miniature chimney sweeps’ brushes; lifting prints from the handles and bonnet with broad pieces of sticky tape, leaving a fine film of silver dust. Next, Alex’s car, black powder this time, switching to silver for her briefcase, back to black for her laptop.

‘
Someone’s had fun with this.’ The taller of the two held up Alex’s laptop to show his colleague, its lid dented as if a maniac with a hammer and blunt-nosed chisel had being trying to create a work of art. ‘We’re going to need to take it with us.’ He glanced up at Sebastian who gave a nod, not that he could have stopped them he was sure.

Christ, thought Sebastian, hoping still worked. If it was anything like his laptop, it probably had Alex’s whole life on it...her whole life…Sebastian moved his thoughts on quickly. Today wasn’t the day to go over old ground.

‘
We’ll need you to make a statement. Can you get down to the station? You could collect it then.’

Sebastian nodded again. He definitely needed to get out of here for five minutes, to get a pint of milk and The Irish Times. Not that he’d have time to read it he was sure, but his grandfather had gone down to the village for it every day of his life, and breaking the tradition felt wrong. All wrong. Sebastian sighed deeply. If he could find his phone, he’d be able to pick up his messages when he got to the village with a bit of luck too, assuming the wind was blowing in the right direction and he could get a signal, see if anything urgent was happening in the real world. And Joe had said Caroline was due in court this afternoon...

‘
It’ll be later on, is that okay?’

‘
Grand, we’ll let them know.’ The guard went back to inspecting the briefcase.

‘
Can you get anything off that rock in the front seat?’

‘
I doubt it, it’s a poor surface. But this is ideal, leather, nice and shiny. Should get some good prints off it.’

Sebastian could feel the dull ache of worry working its way up from somewhere deep inside him, was that good news or bad news? If they found Caroline’s fingerprints on Alex’s laptop what would it prove? The laptop had been in his apartment, Caroline could say she picked it up then. If her fingerprints were on the car it would be different, might prove that she’d done the damage; but the fire? He still couldn’t believe she’d started the fire – at least not deliberately. Sebastian ran his hands over his eyes, still gritty, red-rimmed and sore. The media would have a field day when she went to court. He could see her now in a demure Chanel suit bought for the occasion, standing like Marlene Dietrich in the witness box, flicking her hair over her shoulders. ‘I don’t know what happened your Honour, someone must have spiked my drink…’

‘
That’s us done here.’ The tall guard stuck the last piece of tape to a card, slipping it inside a plastic bag and flipped the lid of the box closed. ‘We’ll need to take a few samples around this end of the conservatory, inside and out if that’s okay.’ Sebastian nodded, sighing inside, why did everyone keep calling it a conservatory? Outwardly trying to sound enthusiastic, appreciative of the thorough job they were doing, he nodded again:

‘
Work away.’

The taller guard went over to inspect what had been the low brick outer wall of the Palm House. Looking up, seeing that Sebastian was still watching him, he nodded at the brickwork, ‘If paint or an inflammable liquid like white spirit or turpentine became an accelerant, there will be residues left in the fibres of the wood surrounding the area. It’s the vapour that burns. Leaves the incriminating evidence behind.’

Sebastian nodded, his stomach performing a massive flip…‘incriminating evidence.’

‘
Do you think that’s what it was?’

The guard shrugged. ‘We spoke to your painters this morning. They reckon they could have left some gear on the sill at this end. One of them was finishing up when his phone rang. He can’t remember putting it all back in the van. He was using an old paint tin half full of white spirit and a rag to clean his brush, left a full tin of paint next to it. Can’t even remember putting the lid on, but reckons he would have done. He had a hot date apparently, wasn’t concentrating.’ The guard’s tone was sarcastic. ‘Circumstantially, it’s a strong possibility that that’s what it was, especially with the cigarette butts and the packet found nearby, but we can only be absolutely sure if we find corroborating evidence.’ He paused, shrugging, ‘But even then we might not have enough to prove whether it was accidental or malicious.’