Dan looked at his watch again. Eve had said she would be there in about fifteen minutes, which was over ten minutes ago. The firefighters had cordoned off the whole block on either side of his office, as well as the road in front. While they tried to put out the fire, police were still evacuating the last few remaining people from the neighbouring buildings. It was chaos, people shouting, others complaining about not being allowed through to get their things. He had given the police a brief statement and had also tried to get through to Andy Fagan, without success. Someone had given him an emergency foil blanket, which he had wrapped loosely around himself, but he didn’t need it. He didn’t feel at all cold. The sight of the cloud of black, billowing smoke that was pouring through the shattered windows of the first-floor office, along with the blazing light in the room behind, had lit a fire in his heart. He would find whoever had done this and he would kill them.
He had spent a couple of hours at Shona’s, scanning the notebooks while they finished the bottle of wine and then half of another, and then shared a Chinese takeaway from across the street. She had talked a lot about her husband, Kevin, and the way he had worked. He had been meticulous, she said, with a real instinct for a story, if a little anarchic at times, which made him better suited to freelance work. The more she said, the more he couldn’t wait to start delving into the scanned pages, which he had copied both onto his laptop and a spare flash drive. Just before he left, she had gone into the kitchen to make a cup of tea and call the police and he had taken the opportunity to slip Mickey’s little red memory stick down the side of the box of notebooks, taking care to wipe his prints.
He had got back to the office just in the nick of time. Someone in the street had already dialled 999, but he had been able to push his way through the growing crowd on the pavement. His first thought was of Zofia. She had told him earlier that she was tired and was staying in that night. He had tried calling her from the street, but her phone was switched off. Maybe she had changed her mind about going out, but he had to check. The front door was open and he rushed upstairs to the top floor. He found her in her bedroom, dressed in pink flowery pyjamas, lying on her back in the middle of her bed in a star-shape, snoring loudly. He saw a packet of Nytols on the bedside table. He shouted at her, but she didn’t respond. How many of the bloody things had she taken? He shook her and prodded her, but she just groaned and turned over. He shouted at her again and shook her even more violently and finally her eyes opened a crack and she gazed at him as though she hadn’t a clue who he was. She was far too heavy to carry, but he managed to drag her out of the bed and help her unsteadily onto her feet. Just when he thought he’d got through to her, she pushed him away and started stumbling around the room trying to gather up some of her things, muttering all the time to herself in Polish. He could smell the smoke coming up the stairs. They needed to go. He shouted at her again but she seemed unable to grasp the situation. He grabbed hold of her and slapped her hard across the face. She opened her eyes wide and stared at him blinking and disorientated, as though she had just woken from a deep dream. He was able to yank her by the wrist, still clinging to some of her possessions, out of the flat, pulling her down the many flights of stairs and through the open front door, just as the first fire engine screeched to a halt outside. Zofia had been taken off to an ambulance, where paramedics were examining her, but he had refused any medical attention. Although his lungs were full of smoke, he didn’t want to go to hospital. He couldn’t afford any delay in finding out who had done this and he needed to see Eve.
Gazing across the road, he spotted her amongst the crowd, her pale face looking here and there as she searched for him. He was about to call out when he realized she was with someone. He was tall and good-looking, with blonde hair. There was something familiar about him and Dan suddenly realized he was something to do with the Michaels family. He was married to Melissa Michaels, that was it. The MP. Gavin something. What was he doing there with Eve? Dan watched them make their way through the crowd of onlookers towards the edge of the cordon, then he lost sight of them. Why had Eve brought him here? How could she have anything to do with any of the Michaels clan after what had happened to her? He ducked into a doorway, crouched down and pulled the foil blanket over his head. He felt his phone vibrate in his jacket pocket, took it out, saw her name on the screen and switched it off. A moment later a text came through: I’m here. Where are you? Eve. Another police car pulled up alongside and as the crowd parted momentarily to let it through, he caught sight of them again. They were in the middle of the road, right at the front, by the cordon, no doubt waiting for him to appear from somewhere. Gavin had turned to face Eve. His hands were on her shoulders and he was saying something to her, which looked important, as Eve looked up at him intently. After a moment, she nodded and Gavin smiled as though she had just given him some good news. Then Gavin bent down, kissed her on the cheek, and turned and walked away. Along with the shock that they clearly knew one another quite well, there was something intimate in the way they had looked at each other. From nowhere Dan felt an unexpected stab of jealousy.
He waited a moment, making sure that Gavin was not coming back, then shed the blanket, leaving it behind in the doorway, and crossed the road to where Eve was standing. He touched her on the shoulder and she turned around.
‘Oh, Dan. There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Are you OK?’ She reached up and wiped away a smear of something from his cheek with her fingers. ‘You’re covered in soot.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘What the hell happened?’
‘I wasn’t here, so I don’t know. But I found the front door open and when I went upstairs to look for Zofia I smelled petrol on the landing outside our office. It’s definitely arson. Probably the same person who broke in the other evening.’
‘Have you told the police?’
He nodded. ‘I need to go to the local station later and give a proper statement.’
‘You should also call Andy Fagan and tell him what’s happened. This is all tied up with Mickey’s murder.’
‘I have tried calling him, but he’s not picking up. That man I just saw you with … He’s married to Melissa Michaels, isn’t he?’
She nodded. ‘His name’s Gavin. I told you about him.’ She looked at him questioningly.
Perhaps she had mentioned it in passing. If so, he’d forgotten the details or hadn’t realized the significance at the time, that she and Gavin were so close.
‘It’s thanks to him I got to stay at the cottage,’ she added. ‘He’s the person who arranged the meeting today with Lorne Anderson.’ Her tone sounded a little defensive. She had called him after her meeting with Anderson but she had said nothing about Gavin. Perhaps he too had been at the racecourse. How much had she told Gavin, he wondered.
‘Why’s he being so bloody helpful, all of a sudden? None of the Michaels give a flying fuck about Sean Farrell and what happens to him.’
‘He’s not one of the Michaels. Anyway, he and I go back a very long way.’
‘I see,’ he said, although he didn’t see at all. It was a loaded expression and no explanation of anything.
‘Look, I trust him, Dan. Please don’t worry.’
He shrugged. It was easy for her to say. She hadn’t seen everything she’d worked for, for so long, go up in flames. A waft of fried onions drifted over him and he realized they were standing outside a Burger King, with people going in and out as though everything were normal. But it was the end of 4Justice, the final, lingering chapter in his relationship with Kristen. In the adrenalin of the last hour he had forgotten about the practicalities. He would have to find another job and, even more pressingly, somewhere to live. He still had a little money in the bank but it wouldn’t last long. He would have to ring up his mum and try to borrow some money to tide him over. He was thirty-three, nearly thirty-four. By now, he ought to be able to stand on his own two feet. But it would be yet another mark of his failure, in her critical eyes.
‘Dan?’ He felt Eve’s hand on his arm and looked up.
‘Sorry. I was miles away.’
‘I could see. What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘My flat’s tiny, otherwise you could stay there.’
‘I’ll check into a hotel for the night,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll sort out somewhere to go in the morning.’
‘What about 4Justice?’
He shrugged again.
‘Were your files backed up?’
He sighed. It didn’t matter any longer.
She looked at him sternly. ‘I know you’re in shock, but you need to snap out of it. Do you have a backup?’
He sighed again, then nodded and patted the messenger bag slung over his shoulder. ‘I’ve got my laptop. All my work’s stored on it. Kristen also has a backup of the whole system at her flat. It’s a bit out of date but we scanned most of the important documents and files.’
‘Thank God for that.’ She looked genuinely relieved and it struck him for the first time that she actually cared.
‘We were worried about all the old wiring in the building. Of course, we never imagined something like this happening.’
Eve put her hand on his sleeve. ‘I know everything looks black at the moment. But you mustn’t give up. What you do is really important. Think of Sean, or your brother, and people like them, rotting in jail for years, their life slipping by, knowing that someone else is guilty and running around free as a bird. They need you. We will find whoever did this. I promise.’
It warmed his heart to hear her so firm and positive and strong and, for a moment, he found it difficult to speak. She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick brown envelope.
‘Here, take this. There’s the best part of ten grand inside. It’s John Duran’s money. He gave it to me for expenses for looking into the Sean Farrell case, so as chief investigator, it’s yours by rights.’
He started to object, but she held up her hand. ‘This whole thing is to do with Jane McNeil. If you and I hadn’t been getting near the truth, this would never have happened. I will explain to Duran.’
He hated to have to take the money, particularly from her, he realized. He felt somehow ashamed. Eve was saying something about going to see Jane’s mother in the morning and asking if he wanted to come, but he couldn’t focus. He was staring down the road in front, past the fire engines, wondering what to do, when he caught sight of a face that looked vaguely familiar. The boy was some distance away but he was looking straight at him. It took a moment to place him. His heart missed a beat.
He turned to Eve. ‘Gotta go. I’ll call you.’ He took off through the crowd.