Fry had called a meeting of what was left of her team. They were waiting for Murfin, but he was finishing a phone call, typing one more paragraph of a vital report, trying to make the point that he had too much work to do already.
‘Right, there are things to be done in the Darwin Street arson enquiry,’ she said.
‘Such as?’ asked Murfin.
‘We need to chase up forensics from the fire scene — particularly that sitting room. Brian Mullen swears that he never went in there that night. If we find any evidence of his presence in the room after the fire started, then we can demonstrate that he’s lying.’
‘Right.’
‘Obviously, somebody will have to interview this Jed Skinner. That should happen as soon as possible, before it occurs to Mullen to contact Skinner and they get their story straight.’
‘I’ll do that, if you like,’ said Cooper.
‘No, let Gavin go.’
‘OK. What, then?’
‘You can come with me to the hospital. I want your opinion on Mr Brian Mullen.’
‘Really?’
‘Don’t look so surprised — it isn’t the first time I’ve asked for your opinion, Ben.’
‘Well …’
‘Also, Mullen’s story is that he arrived home from the Broken Wheel in a taxi, which dropped him off at the end of the street. I’ve already spoken once to the next-door neighbour, Keith Wade, but I want to know about a conversation they supposedly had. Wade must have witnessed Mullen going into the house on his abortive rescue mission. It would be useful if he happened to see his neighbour arriving in the street, too.’
‘From the taxi?’
‘That’s another thing — ’
‘You want us to find the taxi driver.’
‘Exactly. Confirm the time and place he picked Mullen up, and where he dropped him off. And then I’d like to know what happened to Skinner. Did the driver see him outside the club? Did he and Mullen share a taxi, even?’
‘I wonder if Mr Wade is aware of any problems between Mullen and his wife?’ said Cooper. ‘If he lives in an adjoining semi, he might have been close enough to hear any arguments.’
‘We should ask all the neighbours that,’ said Fry. ‘Discreetly, of course.’
Cooper looked at the map to check the relative locations of the fire and the wheelie bin where the lighter fluid can had been found.
‘By the way, this isn’t the Shrubs,’ he said, pointing at the map. ‘The area’s called that because of the names of the streets.’
‘I know that.’
‘Well, since when has Darwin been a shrub?’
‘It’s close.’
‘Close? In an evolutionary sense, or what?’
‘Geographically. Look, Lilac Avenue is just over there, no more than three hundred yards away. Myrtle Drive is next to it. It’s nothing to make a fuss about.’
‘No one on Darwin Street would consider themselves to be living in the Shrubs,’ said Cooper. ‘These things are important to people.’
Before they left, Cooper saw that two bin liners full of clothes had also been brought back from the Mullens’ house by the SOCOs for examination, though no one seemed to have any idea what they were expecting to find. Sometimes they took protect and preserve a bit too far.
‘Oh, you’re back,’ said Brian Mullen when they entered his room at the hospital. His voice sounded a bit better now, but for a slight tendency to squeak on the last syllable of a sentence.
‘Sorry to bother you again, sir,’ said Fry. ‘This is my colleague, DC Cooper.’
‘Do you have some information?’
‘Sorry?’
‘You said you’d keep me informed.’
‘Oh, yes. Well, I’m afraid it’s still early days yet. But I do have a few more questions.’
‘Questions again?’
‘I’m trying to get things straight in my mind. To clarify what happened the night your family died. Is that all right, sir?’
He lay back wearily. ‘I suppose so. As long as I can get out of here.’
Fry opened her notebook. ‘According to what you told me previously, you arrived home at about one thirty after your taxi dropped you off at the corner of Darwin Street. You saw the fire, but didn’t realize it was your own house until you were closer.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Who did you say you were out with, by the way?’
He was distracted by the question, which was what she wanted.
‘One of my mates, Jed Skinner. I work with him at the distribution centre.’
‘Oh, you’re a despatch manager, aren’t you?’
‘That’s right. Jed’s in the transport department.’
‘Just one mate, was it?’
‘Eh?’
‘Just you and Jed out for the night?’
‘Yes, like I said.’
Fry looked at her notebook. ‘You told me you were “out with mates”. That’s “mates”, plural.’
‘Well, I might have said that.’
‘Why?’
‘Look, we were in the pub first off — the Forester’s Arms. I know a lot of people in there, I’m a regular. So I
‘But only Jed at the Broken Wheel?’
‘Like I said.’
‘You went there alone, the two of you? And you left together, just the two of you again?’
‘Yes.’
‘And that was just after one. So the next person you spoke to must have been the taxi driver. And then there was your neighbour, Mr Wade. Shortly after that, you ran into the house, then the firefighters pulled you back out.’
‘I’ve told you all this. For God’s sake — ’
Mullen controlled his burst of anger, then raised his still bandaged hands, as if presenting the evidence.
‘And you can’t remember what you burned yourself on, Mr Mullen?’
‘I told you, it was the banister rail. It must have been that, because it was the only thing I touched.’
‘Ah, yes. And it’s made of wood, so it would have been burning, or at least smouldering. But the banister rail is only on one side of the stairs — the other side is a blank wall. Would you have touched the banisters with both hands?’
‘I must have done.’
Mullen held up his hands again, as if he thought she couldn’t see them. The facts were indisputable, he seemed to say.
Fry wished she could have taken swabs from his hands to test for traces of accelerant on his skin, but she had no evidence to push it so far. And it was too late now anyway.
‘Look, maybe I panicked and touched it with the other hand on the way down,’ said Mullen.
‘It’s possible.’
‘Of course it is.’
‘And you didn’t go into any of the rooms downstairs?’ asked Fry. ‘The sitting room, for example?’
‘No. Why would I do that? Like I told you yesterday, I knew my family would be in bed at that hour.’
