‘What the hell has been happening in here?’ he said. ‘It stinks.’
And it wasn’t just the smell of death. There was a strong smell of petrol here, too, and singed cloth and paper. It seemed as though Jake had come down the steps to set another fire, but there hadn’t been enough oxygen in the tiny cellar.
Lucas didn’t reply to the question. ‘Is he going to be all right?’ he said.
‘We need to get him into the air. Help me carry him up the steps.’
Cooper was glad he couldn’t see the cellar clearly. He was sure there would be old bloodstains and worse on the walls and floor. They might have been there weeks or months, but the distinctive smell of them hadn’t faded in the enclosed, airless space. It was a perfect environment for a forensic team to salvage evidence from, but it wasn’t going to last long enough for them to reach it.
He took Jake’s shoulders, and Lucas took his feet. They had left the door open at the top of the steps for air, but they could hear the flames coming steadily closer. When Cooper reached the top of the cellar steps, he could see that the floorboards of the hallway and the treads of the stairway were smouldering. But the route to the broken front door was still reasonably clear.
When they got out of the house, they made progress, staggering away from Trafalgar Terrace towards the rutted track and damp trees near the Oxleys’ homes.
‘OK, stop,’ said Cooper breathlessly.
Finally, he could see up towards the road. And he realized Scott Oxley had organized the other boys to clear the trees they had felled only a short time before, and were waving wildly at a fire
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appliance approaching the entrance. Cooper stooped to look at Jake. He was breathing, though raggedly.
Now the air was full of the sound of sirens. Cooper imagined the convoy coming up the road - fire appliances, police vehicles, ambulances, a whole parade, like the arrival of a besieging army. Maybe they didn’t quite have catapults and ballistas, but the firemen would have axes and heavy cutting gear, and he was willing to bet there would be a police van with a battering ram or two. Maybe it was time for him to choose sides.
Together, Ben Cooper and Lucas Oxley waited, listening to the sound of the sirens dipping and soaring as the emergency vehicles crested one hill after another on the road into Withens.
Diane Fry waited for the ambulance to move off. She had been standing watching Ben Cooper for several minutes while Jake Oxley was lifted on to a stretcher and loaded into the ambulance by the paramedics, accompanied by his father. Finally, Cooper looked up and saw her. Fry saw the expression of surprise on his face, and remembered that she was still wearing the hard hat she’d borrowed from one of the contractors. She must look almost as bad as he did, with his face and hands blackened by smoke, like one of the Border Rats made up for a performance.
‘Ben,’ she said, ‘how often have I told you - no heroics.’
Half an hour later, DC Gavin Murfin arrived in Withens with the latest contingent of emergency services. Ben Cooper had been sent off to hospital with orders to get himself checked over. And after Murfin enquired about casualties, he had some news for Diane Fry.
‘That missing teddy bear turned up,’ he said.
‘Emma Renshaw’s golden plush?’
‘Yep. Guess where?’
‘I’ve no idea, Gavin. Did Alex Dearden have it? Have we traced where the antiques are stored?’
‘No such luck. It was in the car.’
‘Which car?’
‘Her car - Emma’s. It was in the boot.’
‘So the Renshaws had it all the time, and didn’t know.’
‘Looks like it. Bit odd, that.’
‘Yes.’
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‘Oh, and the hospital say the verdict is hopeful on the vicar. He was lucky - the wall of the building he was standing next to took some of the blast, and most of the shotgun pellets that hit him went into his arm and leg down the right side. Good job someone got to him quick, though - the doctors say he might have bled to death otherwise.’
‘Is he feeling well enough to talk yet?’
‘Nope. He’s had most of the pellets dug out of him, but he’s still in dreamland from the painkillers.’
‘Pity.’
Murfin looked at her.
‘You’re sure everybody’s all right, Diane?’
‘Yes/ said Fry. ‘Everybody’s fine.’
Murfin turned towards where some uniformed officers were trying to restore order among the residents of Withens. ‘I’ll see what’s going on over there, then,’ he said.
‘Gavin …’
‘Yeah?’
‘Weren’t you supposed to be checking on what calls Neil Granger had been making on his mobile the night he was killed?’
‘I did. I told you.’
‘No, you didn’t/ said Fry.
‘Well, I tried to anyway. But you were talking to Ben at the time. You were having some kind of heart to heart,
