Heatwave Read online

  But it wouldn’t be fair to Sam. I trusted her when she said that she’d tried all the other options, and I trusted that she didn’t want to leave me. We’d made it clear at the start of the relationship that work was a hugely important part of both of our lives, and I could no more demand that she stifle her career to stay with me than I could leave my job here at Hewford to follow her to Kent. I was already planning to look online and make some calls to enquire whether there were any vacancies for DCIs in Kent, but I doubted that there would be. Plus, I felt at home here, and I’d miss Stephen dearly; he was my best friend.

  I rubbed a tired hand over my eyes and pulled back from Sam, who looked up at me with a thousand apologies written across her face.

  “So, how’re we doing this?” I had to ask, though my voice cracked, and I had to look away from her. “Do you want a clean break?”

  “A clean break?” I wasn’t looking at her, but I could hear the shock, pain maybe, in the words.

  “Or do you want to try a long-distance relationship?”

  It wasn’t for everyone, and maybe it wouldn’t work for us, but I was more than willing to give it a go if it meant that I could keep Sam in my life. Even if she met someone else in Kent, and the thought made me feel faintly ill, I knew I’d still want to stay friends if we could. She made me laugh, and we understood each other like we’d been together for far longer than half a year, and I didn’t want to lose that. But perhaps it was selfish to want to hold on to her like that.

  “I don’t want to break up with you,” she said after a painful pause. “Darren, I-”

  “You can tell me if you do want a fresh start,” I made myself say. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” she countered, putting her hand to my cheek and making me meet her eyes. “I meant it about loving being with you. I love you, Darren.” We hadn’t said those three little words often as yet, and they still had the power to make my spine prickle and my heart speed up. I couldn’t help but twitch a smile. “Of course, I want to try long-distance,” Sam pressed on. “I mean, if you do too.”

  “Hell yeah, I do.” I pulled her close and wrapped my arms tightly around her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good job I don’t want you to go anywhere, then,” she said, a smile in her voice.

  I touched the side of her face, reverently brushing her fine hair back behind her ear before I leant down and kissed her. I would stay with Sam until she no longer wanted me, and if that day came, I’d try to take it with grace. I never wanted to cause her pain; she meant too much to me.

  The house was still cool, the kitchen tiles chilling my feet when I slipped out of bed the next morning. I ate breakfast with the window open, listening to the birds and watching the sun climb up into a sky, the colour of which was such a pale blue that it was almost purple.

  I was preparing to leave for work just as Sam was coming into the kitchen, blurry-eyed and sleep mussed, and I gave her a soft kiss before heading out into the fresh morning. Running at this time was so much more comfortable than my afternoon run home, and I relished the sweet coldness of the air in my chest and rushing past my face. The city still felt sleepy at this time, the cars sluggish and relatively scarce, and the honey-coloured stone buildings only just beginning to be bathed in the morning sun, which would hot up to a glare soon enough.

  I’d been sat at my desk, researching and feeling like I was going round in circles, for a couple of hours before Stephen arrived. The station was bustling by that time, the bubble of solitude I’d enjoyed when I’d arrived turning into a beehive of productive activity.

  “Morning,” Stephen said gruffly before shuffling off to the break room for a cup of tea. As much as he joked about my reliance on coffee, the man was a zombie without his strong cup of builder’s tea.

  “So?” he asked as soon as he was back, swivelling his chair towards me and looking much more awake. “What happened? Are you and Sam good?”

  I had known the questions were coming, but it still felt a raw spot, and I winced at the question. I tugged a hand absently through my hair, still damp from the shower, and sighed.

  “Yes and no. She’s gotten offered a job in Kent. They sought her out, and it’s a big promotion, a step up. She’d be an idiot not to take it.”

  “Oh, Darren.” Stephen looked at me with a sympathy I found hard to stand, so I shrugged and fiddled with the half-full cup of coffee on my desk. “How will you- I mean, when’s it happening?”

  “They want her as soon as possible, basically. She’ll put in her notice with work today.”

  “It’s decided then.”

  “Aye. What could I say, Steph?” I raised my hands imploringly. “I couldn’t- I wouldn’t hold her back, would I?”

  “No, of course not.” He reached over to squeeze my shoulder.

  A moment passed, and he seemed to sense that I badly wanted to be done with this conversation. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, eliciting a creak.

  “Alright, have we got any news? Any updates from Sedgwick?”

  “Not yet, but it’s still early.” I checked my watch and found that it was just past eight.

  Sedgwick still hadn’t appeared by the time that a call came out over the radio, asking for available officers to help with a suspicious-looking building fire. Stephen and I looked at each other and shrugged. We couldn’t be of much help to Sedgwick’s case right now, not without more information, and there was no reason to stay sitting around idly when there was something we could help with. Besides, the news of another fire could be a coincidence, but it was strange to have two fires within a week, even when the ground was as dry as it was now. The fire out near Strensall certainly hadn’t been an accident, after all.

  The officer already on the scene filled us in as we started the drive over, which would take us a good hour. It wasn’t an incident that had happened within the confines of York city, but we were being called out to advise on it anyway and to help out the local police.

  “Did you bring your running kit this time?” Stephen asked, reaching over to turn up the air con. “Get a bit of hill running in?”

  “God, no,” I laughed. “Far too hot for me at this time of day, mate.”

  He gave a nod of acknowledgement, turning out onto the main road and adjusting his hands on the steering wheel.

  “So what will we be doing exactly? What do they need us for?”

  “A second opinion? Extra pair of hands? I don’t know exactly, but the local police were adamant about having a couple of York officers out to help, and Rashford signed it off.” I gave a shrug of acceptance. “We’ll find more when we get there.”

  “At least we get a scenic drive.” Stephen gestured to the baby blue sky and the suburbs of York that were turning mile-by-mile into countryside. I rested my head back and idly watched the landscape roll by, my mind drifting back to Sam and our conversation. I thought about all the things I might’ve said that would have been more comforting, or how I could’ve expressed myself better and made it clear how much I’d miss her.

  My thoughts drifted as we travelled over to the small town that was our destination, a place called Rowley. We’d climbed up a short way, and there were clouds in the sky now, but it was still a bright, warm day and the people out on the streets were in shorts and sandals. Even just in my shirt and trousers, I was too warm, and I relinquished the cool air of the car with regret.

  It was a short five-minute walk from where we’d parked up the road to where the fire had taken place. It was a narrow road, and we’d been asked not to block the way for the fire engine.

  At the end of the track, there was a large, family farmhouse up ahead and a scattering of assorted farm buildings and equipment scattered about the place in that organised but chaotic way that characterised many working farms and riding stables.

  What immediately drew my attention, though, was the thickly bitter tang of smoke in the air and the badly charred structure of an agricultural barn off to the left.
Two police cars and a fire engine were crammed into the gravelled area around it as if they were protecting it from future harm. The barn was mostly still on its feet, its four walls still holding, but the roof had started to cave in on the back end, and the whole thing was badly blackened.

  We headed closer to the site of the fire, cutting between the police cars to reach the team who were moving around near the barn.

  “Who is that?” I asked the most senior officer after I’d introduced myself. I gestured towards the one civilian I could see amongst the group, a heavily bearded man and talking angrily to a police officer. He was dressed in an olive green coat and mud-caked Wellingtons, and there was a cut above his eye that was still bleeding.

  “That’s Mr Roberts. The landowner,” she explained.

  “How’d he get injured?” Stephen asked.

  “The teenagers roughed him up when he tried to chase them off.” She shook her head. “He charged into the fire, too, to get his animals out. It’s a miracle he’s not in hospital, though we’ve been trying to get him to go and get checked out.”

  “So he saw these teenagers, then?” I said, my eyebrows lifting. “And they attacked him?”

  “Aye, if arson and trespassing weren’t enough, they’ve added aggravated assault too.” Frowning, she turned away, looking up the slope towards Mr Roberts. “We snatched two of them who couldn’t keep up with the others, but the rest were long gone.”

  “You got two, though? That’s a damn good start.”

  I gave a nod of approval, feeling more positive about this lead now than I had when we arrived. It might very well be a coincidence that teenagers had again been kicking up trouble and setting fires, especially since we were a good hour’s drive from York here, but regardless, I was more confident that we’d be able to nail the people who did this. Attacking a lone man on his own property for trying to protect his livelihood was a despicable thing to do, and, kids or not, there should be consequences.

  “Can we talk to Mr Roberts?” I asked, nodding towards the farmer. He’d broken off with his ranting against the police officer but was still looking like he’d like to put his fist through a wall.

  “Please, go ahead. See if you can calm him down a little.”

  She gave a put-upon sigh, and I sent her a sympathetic look. I was about to step away when a thought occurred to me, and I paused.

  “Was it you who called us in?”

  “Uh, no, I’m afraid not,” she said, looking politely confused. “We wouldn’t usually call York police unless we had a violent situation on our hands we couldn’t deal with ourselves or a high-profile case.”

  “Aye, that’s what I thought. Strange,” I said. “Can you ask around, see who did request us?”

  “Sure,” she agreed.

  I turned to nod to Stephen, and we moved over towards Mr Roberts, but before we’d taken a couple of steps, I noticed that the firefighters seemed to be packing up.

  “Wait, let’s talk to those guys before they head off.” I gestured towards the firefighters, and Stephen grunted his agreement.

  For a change, he took the lead in introducing us to the grim-faced team leader, who shook our hands with a firm grip and looked strong enough to deadlift a horse.

  “I’m guessing you want to know what caused it?” he asked.

  “Particularly whether there was an accelerant used, aye.”

  “Look, I can show you. That’d be easier.”

  He gestured for us to follow him as he moved around his colleagues and took us around to the back of the barn. The back was the most badly damaged, and the firefighter kept us a good distance away for safety.

  “See this here?” he said, pointing to an array of black marks up the wall. He looked up at them like they were letters he could read, but my inexpert eyes could tell little. “This is the origin point. The char pattern points directly down, and it’s a sharp v, so we know an accelerant was used here.” He mimed someone splashing fuel on the wall. “This is where it burned hottest, hence the damage.”

  I could still feel the residual heat coming off the smouldering barn, and on a hot day like today, it was stifling. We were all sweating, especially the firefighter in his gear, and we moved back towards the cars around the front.

  “So, you don’t know yet what kind of accelerant it was?” I asked as we walked.

  “Not yet, but we will do.”

  “Thanks for the help,” I said with a nod, and he left us to head back to his team.

  “That didn’t narrow it down much,” Stephen sighed.

  “No, but it’s all good information.” I looked over toward Mr Roberts, who was still standing strong, closely watching the activity going on around him with an air of suspicion. “Let’s go and see whether the farmer can help us out, aye?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Roberts saw us approaching him and considered us with an unimpressed frown as we got nearer. On first impressions, he looked like the sort of guy who’d quibble about being given a few pennies less change than he was due, but also one who could be relied upon in an emergency; capable, decisive and dutiful. Or perhaps that was just the stereotype of a country farmer that I was projecting onto him.

  “Who’re you two?” he demanded when we came to a stop in front of him.

  I politely introduced us both and then started to say, “We’d like to ask you some questions-”

  “More ruddy questions,” he grumbled. “I’ve been over it all already.”

  “I know, sir, I’m sorry for the repetition. We’re trying to catch the folks who did this to you, and it’d help a lot if you could talk us through it.”

  “Fine,” he said, looking at me from under bushy eyebrows, drawn together in consternation. His brow was red and wet with sweat, from the heat of the day and of the fire. “What d’you wanna know then?”

  “Can you describe for us the teenagers that you saw? How many of them were there?”

  “Ten, at least,” he said with a firm nod. “A couple of lasses with them too, didn’t expect to see that, did I? They were kicking up a right ruckus as if they owned the whole place like I haven’t lived on this land since my grandfather was alive!” He swore under his breath, his weathered face crumpled up in anger. “They burn my barn, burn my animals, gave me this blasted thing. Damn the lot of ‘em.” He gestured at his face, which was still bleeding sluggishly.

  “We should get that seen to, don’t you think?” I offered, concerned that the older man would get dizzy.

  Head wounds always do bleed such a lot, even when they’re barely longer than a finger joint, as Roberts’ was. There was some nasty bruising coming up beneath the cut, though, and I reckoned he could do with getting checked out for a concussion, though he seemed perfectly lucid at the moment.

  “Nonsense, I’m fine. I’ll see to it when my animals are sorted, and you lot have done your damn job.”

  “Can you tell us what the teenagers looked like?” I asked, giving up on trying to persuade the stubborn man to do something that he clearly didn’t want to.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he huffed. “One of the girls had pink hair that I did notice, candyfloss pink. Ridiculous colour. The boys all looked like yobs, like layabouts. Wearing those cheap clothes, absolute rubbish.”

  I glanced over at Stephen, and he gave a shrug. This wasn’t helping much. I was longing for a cool, iced drink and getting back into the air-conditioned car, but more than that, I wanted answers.

  “Did they have any distinctive features?” I tried. “Tattoos, piercings, birthmarks? Anything remarkable?”

  “You’ll be asking for their ruddy eye colours next,” Roberts grumbled before he did pause to consider the question. “One of the lads, he had the blondest hair. Dyed, maybe, who knows what boys these days are doing. A lip ring, too, can you believe it?”

  He muttered a slur under his breath that made me grimace, and Stephen drew in a breath beside me. If I’d been done with my questions and no longer needed the farmer’s help, I wou
ld’ve told him in no uncertain terms what I thought of language like that. But dealing with the arsonists was the more pressing matter, and this mention of a pale blond teenager with a lip ring had caught my attention, so I kept my expression polite.

  “Really?” I said neutrally. “How tall was this boy? What kind of age?”

  “I don’t know, taller than the others.” He shrugged. “Seventeen or eighteen. He seemed like the leader, bolshy, arrogant.” He looked back over at the remains of his barn. “In broad daylight!” he burst out with outrage back in his voice. “I can’t believe it, I really can’t.”

  “Was there a younger boy with them, around fourteen?” I asked. Stephen gave me a sideways glance, but I focused on Roberts.

  “Look, I didn’t get a damn good look at them while they were trying to raze my barn and bash my head in, did I?” he said, waving his arm.

  “I know, sir, we-”

  “There might’ve been a shorter lad, but there was a whole gang of them. You lot better get hold of them, d’you hear me? They can’t be getting away with this! They’ll be after my goddamn house next, and then where will I be?”

  “We’ll do our best,” I assured him. “One last question, sir, then we’ll leave you in peace. Did you hear any of the group calling each other’s names? Or talking about anything that might help us identify them?”

  “Names? No, lad, they were too busy causing mayhem, shouting rubbish at me, and flinging abuse at the cows. And I was giving as good as I got, o’course, so they damn well got an earful as well.”

  “Alright, Mr Roberts, thanks for talking to us.”

  “Just do your job, will you?” he said gruffly, but there was a pained look in his dark eyes when he met my gaze. I could hazard a fair guess that it was worry that was making him speak harshly and not any particular animosity towards me.

  “We will,” I told him, and we stepped away. An officer who we hadn’t yet spoken to made a beeline for us, and I went to meet him in the middle.

  “You asked who called you guys in?” he said. His hair was gingery-red, and he had a broad, friendly face. “That’d be me. I’m DI Young. Good to meet you.”