‘Found anything?’
Sanderson turned to see Helen Grace standing next to her. She had an alarming way of approaching without making a noise, leaving you no time to put on your professional face. Sanderson managed to stifle a yawn – the viewing suite was airless and hot – before bringing her boss up to speed.
‘Nothing so far. I’ve done Travell’s and I’m halfway through the Millbrook footage. Lots of people keen to have a look but no one displaying any overt signs of excitement. Just the opposite if anything.’
‘Recognize any faces?’
Sanderson shook her head.
‘What about our local arsonists? Have we run them down?’ Helen continued.
‘We’ve got seven on our list – all of whom have committed fire-related offences in the County in the past twelve months. The majority of them did it for insurance fraud and the others are just kids. We’ve chased down four – verifiable alibis so far – and we’re on to the last three. But there’s no one on the list who’s attempted anything of this magnitude before.’
‘Keep trying. Also let’s run a national search to see if there have been any other instances of coordinated arson attacks in the last two to three years. This guy’s MO is pretty specific, not to mention well executed. I’d say he’d had practice.’
Sanderson nodded, promising to expedite this search, then resumed her viewing. In truth she just wanted to be away from here. She wanted fresh air, light, happiness. She wanted to be away from the stench of death.
Helen strode into the incident room and was pleased to see the team was hard at work. Everyone at Southampton Central had been shocked by last night’s crimes – many were fearful of what they might presage – so they were pulling out all the stops. It always cheered Helen to see how her officers were willing to cancel their plans and put their personal lives on hold when the job demanded it. It was inconvenient for family and loved ones, but a woman had died. Karen Simms deserved justice and Helen was hopeful her Major Investigation Team would deliver exactly that.
As she was scrolling through a mental list of important tasks that lay ahead, Helen noticed DC McAndrew approaching. She could tell by her face and the spring in her step that she had something of note to tell her.
‘Something for you, boss.’
McAndrew handed Helen a sheaf of papers. They appeared to be a bundle of bank statements and credit card bills.
‘I’ve been running the rule over the Simms family like you suggested. Thomas Simms runs a small business – “AEK trading” – from a warehouse on the Grawston industrial estate. It’s a practical spot and the rents are fair -’
