Read Witchmoor Edge Page 8


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  DC Gary Goss crunched through the rubble in the street behind the burnt out shell of the warehouse. DC Tommy Hammond picked his way more carefully after him, flicking off the dust settling on his neatly creased trousers.

  "I wasn't able to get into the building until first thing this morning," Ted Johnson from the Fire Investigation Branch was saying. "The 999 call came in just after 20 past midnight Sunday morning from a Mrs. Evans at 47 Edward Mews, just across the canal. The fire seems to have started on this side, so, by the time it could be seen from across the canal, this side was well away. The building isn't safe in places and we'll need demolition immediately."

  "What are these road works," Tommy asked, stepping over a short trench.

  "I gather," Johnson said, "that it was Yorkshire Electricity who dug up the road in the process of cutting off power before demolition. That makes one of my discoveries very interesting indeed."

  "How d'you mean?" Goss asked.

  "Someone had taken a power line from that street light to the building." He pointed to a lamp standard less than a foot from the building at one corner, and quite with reach of a window.

  "Why?" Tommy asked.

  "There are two possible reasons I can think of," Johnson replied. "Firstly, somebody may have needed light for something they were doing and some sort of interruption or accident started the fire."

  "And the other reason?"

  "It might have provided power for a timing device, so the fire could be started when no one was around, but in that case it failed."

  "There was some one around?"

  "There was a body in the stairwell leading down to the lower floor and the exit at canal level. It was a young black or mixed race male of uncertain age. The fire spread up rather than down, so he probably died of smoke inhalation before the fire got anywhere near him. He was taken for autopsy an hour or so ago."

  This was the third death around the fire. What on earth were the connections between the bodies and the fire. What the hell had Simon Hunter and the two youths been doing?

  Detective Constables Goss and Hammond went next to see Mrs. Delia Evans, who had reported the fire. Number 47 was the end house and the garden reached virtually to the canal. Tommy strolled to the end of the street, where a low wall was broken by a few steps leading down to the towpath beside the canal. He peered down, mostly to get his bearings and size up the lie of the land before listening to Mrs. Evans.

  There was somewhat more cloud than there had been on Sunday, but the view was still pleasant and the scene calm. A slight smell of old ashes hung on the air, drifting across from the ruin on the other side of the canal, and a barge chugged its leisurely way along the canal, rippling the glassy quality of the water. A little to the left was a road bridge over the water. Was it possible that the bodies had been dumped from a vehicle? Probably too far he thought.

  Tommy turned and walked back to number 47 and Gary Goss rang the bell.

  A sudden yapping indicated what Mrs. Evans might have been doing so late on a Saturday night and she opened the door. She was elderly - late sixties or older, rather plump and rather jolly.

  She told the two detectives that she had been out at her daughter's all Saturday evening and chatted amiably as she led them into a small and crowded lounge.

  "You live here alone, Mrs. Evans?" Hammond asked.

  "That's right," she explained. "My husband died of cancer two years ago."

  "And you had been out for the day?"

  "At my daughter's, yes."

  "What time did you get back?"

  "My daughter Jane drove me home just after midnight," she said. "I'm not usually that late, but we had been watching a DVD and didn't notice the time."

  "And you saw the fire as you arrived back?" Tommy asked, thinking there was quite a gap between arriving home and making the call.

  "We could smell burning then, but I didn't notice anything. I let Rusty out for a wee and run about quarter past and I could smell it even stronger. I could see flames too. I thought I'd better ring in case it hadn't been reported, so I phoned."

  "Was anyone else about?" Tommy asked.

  "Not then," she said. "But earlier, just after Jane left as a matter of fact, there was someone. I saw a youth climbing from the canal, dripping wet. He went up the street, probably going home to change. It wasn't a cold night, of course, but he'd been right in the water, I think."

  "You didn't report this?"

  "No." Mrs. Evans hesitated. After a pause, which was a prolonged hesitation, she added, "It doesn't pay to see too much where young toughs are concerned. They'd be round here throwing bricks through the window and bothering Rusty, if they thought I'd told the police. Anyway, he might have just fallen in or something."

  "Did you think the youth was connected with the fire?" Tommy asked.

  "When I saw the fire later and reported it, I thought then he might have started in on purpose, but the building was all boarded up and they were going to demolish it anyway. Besides it wasn't my business."

  Tommy thought it had been very much her business, but he was tactful enough to realise that this elderly lady had to live alone in her community and said nothing.

  "Did you recognise him?" Tommy asked.

  "It was too dark."

  The answer came so quickly this time that Tommy was sure she had a very good idea who was involved. They could probably get a name from the dead boy's family, so he didn't pursue the matter. Not yet, anyway.

  "Would it be possible for you sign a statement about this?" Tommy asked. "DC Goss will type up what you've said to us and you can sign to say that it's what you told us."

  The old lady nodded. "When shall I come in to the station?"

  Tommy thought about. "We won't be back before 5 or 5.30 at the earliest," he said. "If you ring this number any time tomorrow morning we'll fix a time." He handed her a card with the number of the direct line to the CID divisional office.

  "Down by the Market Square?" the old lady asked.

  "That's right," Tommy said. "You give us a ring and well send an unmarked car to fetch you."

  He stood up. "Now, we must be off," he said.

  "Would you like a cup of tea before you go," Mrs. Evans asked.

  "No, thanks all the same," DC Hammond replied. "We've more calls to make before we report back to the boss."

  "All right, dear," said Mrs. Evans, and rose to let them out.

  As they walked back to the car Tommy said, "I reckon she knew who it was climbed out of the canal. At least she had a pretty good idea."

  Gary Goss nodded.

  "What d'you say we find a decent pub with food and have a late lunch, then you go get a statement from Joe Davis, the bloke who found the first body, while I go and talk to the dead boy's family and see if I can find out what he was up to and who he was up to it with. Try and get our names the other way."

  "Why didn't you just press the old lady for some names?" Goss asked.

  "Come on, Gee Gee, she has to live here after we've gone and we can probably get the names easily enough anyway. We can always come back again if we draw a blank."

  DC Hammond, straightened his tie, unlocked the car and they climbed in.