He paused, but neither woman felt the need to jump in. Whatever was coming was coming now – he needed to confess.
‘I tried to pay him back but suddenly the interest payments went up. I couldn’t meet them. And…’
His voice caught as a deep misery stole over him. Charlie could feel her heart pounding inside her chest, her anxiety rising in sympathy with each word.
‘And he came to the house one night. When I was out. He… he threatened Karen. She didn’t know anything about my… problems. I’d kept all that crap from her and the kids. And now… and now this.’
Thomas Simms buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed.
‘Dear God,’ he whispered suddenly. ‘Is this my fault?’
Helen watched him as he wept, nodding to Charlie who extended a hand to comfort him. Helen had never really bought Thomas Simms as a suspect for the arson attack, but it was clear now that he still might be responsible for the attacks. It was their best lead and he had kept it from them. Helen knew that if that meant Karen’s killer escaped justice, it would go hard with him. As Helen knew herself, your soul is never at ease when you have another person’s death on your conscience.
‘The loan shark’s name is Gary Spence.’
Helen was marching away from the hospital, her phone clamped to her ear. She’d opted to bring Gardam up to speed immediately – knowing the kind of character he was, she was sure he’d expect nothing less.
‘What do we know about him?’
‘Nasty piece of work,’ Helen went on. ‘Convictions for ABH, GBH, extortion, extracting money with menaces. He also escaped a possible conviction for attempted murder – because of an eyewitness pulling out at the last minute.’
‘Any history of firestarting?’
‘A couple of juvenile offences, plus an insurance fraud five years ago. Burnt down a warehouse he owned to cash in on the £150,000 policy on it.’
Gardam digested this but said nothing. Helen was still making up her mind about her new boss. He was less political than his predecessor, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be trouble. Some bosses were lazy, some too concerned with self-promotion, others were micro-managers. Helen had already filed Jonathan Gardam in the latter camp. He wanted to be fully involved in investigations. Was he a control freak? Did he miss life on the front line? Or did he not trust his new colleagues?
‘He’s obviously not above this kind of thing, but does he fit the MO?’ Gardam finally replied.
‘MOs develop over time,’ Helen responded, ‘so we can’t rule it out. And we know for a fact that Spence had also lent money to Bertrand’s Antiques Emporium. It’s a very hand-to-mouth business. It’s dressed up as antiques but actually it’s a glorified rag and bone shop. Bertrand Senior operates on the edge of legality – he’s had problems with HMRC and others – and on a few occasions he’s borrowed money from Spence. He swears he paid the last lot back -’
