Authors: Kerry Wilkinson
‘What can we do?’ Reynolds replied. ‘If we tell the press office to brief against this, it’s going to risk giving the media a story they don’t have. Even after
that, there would be nothing to stop them writing it the way they want anyway.’
Jessica thought about his response for a few moments and then changed the subject. ‘Are we going to be okay talking to the parents?’
Reynolds crossed back to where Jessica was standing, walking past her with an implication that she should follow. ‘To a degree. They’ve got a support officer with them. The father
wanted to talk earlier but we were waiting for his wife to settle. Ideally we would leave them for a while but if there is anything deeper going on here . . .’ He tailed off without finishing
his sentence.
As they made their way downstairs, Jessica thought she would never have known anything untoward had happened in the house if it wasn’t for the items on the floor of Molly’s bedroom.
The hallways and stairs were covered with a thick, fluffy pink carpet and pictures of Molly and adults Jessica assumed were her parents lined the walls. It was very suburban, very normal.
Reynolds led Jessica into a living room where a support officer and two uniformed officers were sitting on chairs facing the people who Jessica had seen in the photographs. Reynolds introduced
himself and Jessica to Molly’s parents and apologised for their regular clothes. Jessica had dropped Adam at home before heading to the house still in the jeans and jumper she had been
wearing all day. The inspector was wearing something similarly casual but the young woman’s parents, who introduced themselves as Peter and Nicola, waved away their apologies.
The other officers left the room and closed the door as the Scene of Crime team arrived. Reynolds had already told Jessica they were running late because of a large traffic accident involving a
lorry and a shop front in the city centre.
The paramedics had transported the body but the bedroom still needed to be examined.
Jessica was struck by how much Peter North looked like his daughter. He was somewhere in his forties but they shared the same facial structure and had a dimple in the same spot on their cheeks.
Nicola looked older than her husband but Jessica put a lot of that down to the trauma of what had happened. Her eyes were red and swollen.
Peter did much of the talking, telling them more or less the same as what Reynolds had already spoken about upstairs. It was the little details that struck Jessica. He mentioned that they always
went to the same pub for Sunday lunch because of the way they cooked the roast potatoes. He said they were ready to leave but met a couple they knew. Because of that, they stopped for an extra
coffee they might not usually have had. Nicola hadn’t looked up from the tissue she was holding until her husband said that, at which point she blew her nose loudly and burst into tears.
Reynolds caught Jessica’s eye to say they would have to be quick in getting anything else they needed because the woman clearly wasn’t up to it. As he comforted his wife, Peter
explained that Nicola had gone upstairs when Molly hadn’t responded to their arrival home. He rushed up after her when the screaming started.
‘It was my belt,’ was all he could conclude. Jessica knew that single detail would be something that would stay with him. What if he had worn different trousers and needed that belt?
What if they hadn’t stopped for the extra coffee? She knew there was nothing she could say that would make either of them feel any better.
‘Did you have any reason to think she might be unhappy?’ Jessica asked as tactfully as she could manage.
Peter shook his head. ‘She was upset over her friend Sienna. They were so close. They had been friends for ages. Sienna used to sleep over here and then Molly would stay at theirs. Well,
not recently. Not since her dad left her mum and bought the new house.’
‘Do you know if the two girls had fallen out?’ Jessica asked.
Peter went to answer but Nicola spoke across him. Her voice was throaty, dry, and sounded painful. ‘They used to fall out when they were younger, much younger. But they grew out of it like
most girls do.’
Jessica directly addressed Nicola. ‘Do you know why either Sienna or Molly might want to do something like this?’
Nicola’s bottom lip started to wobble again at the mention of her daughter’s name. She shook her head. ‘No.’
Peter stood and walked behind where they were sitting. The daylight had almost gone and he twisted a cord which closed the blinds before returning to sit next to his wife.
‘Were there any other friends Molly was close to?’ Jessica asked.
Nicola shook her head again. ‘There were some girls she used to hang around with but that was because they were Sienna’s friends. I know she didn’t think much of
them.’
As his wife tailed off, Peter spoke. ‘I kept expecting her to bring home some boy I inevitably wouldn’t like. At first it was a bit of a joke but then I just left her to it.
You’re not supposed to like your daughter’s boyfriends, are you? I was always waiting for one not to like.’
Jessica watched the man gulp and wipe his face with the back of his hand. She glanced at Nicola, who caught her eye. It was only for a moment but Jessica could tell that Molly’s mother
knew exactly why her daughter hadn’t been bringing home boyfriends. Jessica nodded a fraction to acknowledge what the woman was saying without words and, in that silent understanding, Jessica
felt a lump in her own throat.
She blinked furiously, fighting back tears she didn’t understand. She’d had the same feelings in the car with Adam earlier in the day but that was over a different issue and Jessica
couldn’t fathom why she was struggling to deal with her emotions. She had been able to put a brave face on most things through her career but, perhaps because they reminded her so much of
herself and Caroline at that age, she was feeling attached to the two teenage girls.
Reynolds didn’t peer towards her but it felt as if he was aware of her feelings as he took up the questioning, clarifying a few things they needed for their records and checking to see if
the names of Molly’s friends matched the ones they already had.
When he had finished, Reynolds stood and shook hands with Molly’s parents. Jessica followed suit, again locking eyes with Nicola. She felt like hugging the woman instead.
Both officers left contact numbers in case either of the parents thought of anything else they might need to know. The support officer re-entered and Jessica could hear the investigating
officers working upstairs.
She walked alongside Reynolds down the pathway towards their respective cars. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just . . . I don’t even know what to say. It seems like such a waste.’
As they rounded a corner to head towards where they were parked, Reynolds stretched out an arm and pulled Jessica towards him. When they shared an office, they had been much closer than
recently. She rested her head on his shoulder briefly before pulling away. ‘Thanks,’ she said, meaning it.
He smiled. ‘We should share an office again. I miss having someone leaving their mess on my side.’
Jessica laughed wearily. ‘What on earth is going on?’ she asked, knowing her question was as unanswerable as Reynolds’s had been in Molly’s bedroom.
The moment was interrupted as Reynolds’s phone started ringing. He fumbled in his pockets before finally finding it in an inside section of his jacket. He reminded Jessica of her dad and
the way he lost his glasses case.
Her moment of amusement didn’t last long as she saw his eyes widen in surprise before he hung up. ‘You didn’t have plans tonight, did you?’
‘No, why?’
‘Someone just tried to set fire to Anthony Thompson’s house.’
After the hours she had put in over the weekend, Jessica spent Monday morning sitting around the house having been ordered by Cole not to be at the station – or do
anything relating to the job – until lunchtime. She knew he had done it because he wanted her to rest but being in the house she still thought of as Adam’s when she would have much
rather been at work wasn’t good for her mood.
When they had spoken on the phone the previous evening as she left Anthony Thompson’s house, the chief inspector’s exact words had been, ‘Get a lie-in’. Whether he was
implying she looked as if she needed a good night’s sleep was something that Jessica didn’t want to ask. She knew the answer was ‘yes’ but that didn’t mean she could
flick a switch and suddenly start sleeping solidly again. Her late-night thoughts were haunted by Adam and Sebastian as well as Sienna and Molly. With the time she spent commuting and general
problems with sleeping, Jessica was finding herself alone with her thoughts far too often.
When she lived on her own, Jessica had long watched late-night reruns of early-morning talkshows. She wouldn’t have admitted it to her colleagues or friends but the family arguments, DNA
tests and general confrontational nature of them was something she pretended to hate but secretly watched when it was just her. Since moving in with Adam, she had largely given up her vice but,
with the television remote to herself and an empty living room, Jessica allowed the morning show to take her mind away from everything she had going on.
She pictured Anthony Thompson in one of the seats, with Ryan storming on. ‘YOU BURNED MY SON, NOW I’LL BURN YOUR HOUSE’ was the strapline across the bottom, with a DNA test at
the end to figure out who the father of Sienna’s baby was.
Just after midday, Jessica left the house and drove to the station, sitting in the car park to ensure Cole would not accuse her of cheating on his demand that she rest. He had scheduled a senior
briefing for one o’clock where they could go over everything properly for the first time – including the events of the previous evening.
Jessica walked straight up to his office. Through the glass walls she could already see that Cole was sitting behind his desk, with DS Cornish, Reynolds and Rowlands packed into chairs across
from him. Rowlands wouldn’t usually be a part of such meetings, so his presence surprised Jessica as she entered. Because of how closely everyone was sitting, Jessica had to push the
remaining empty chair out of the way so she could open the door fully and close it, before manoeuvring the seat back behind the door so she could sit. Realistically, there was only room for the DCI
plus two other people to sit comfortably. She winked at Rowlands, who was wedged in between his two supervisors with his arms crossed looking awkward.
‘We have got the good, the bad and the ugly squeezed in here,’ Jessica said as she sat down.
‘Who’s who?’ Cole asked with a smile.
‘Louise is the good, obviously, because she’s female. Dave’s the ugly, because, well, look at him. And I guess that makes Jase the bad.’
DS Cornish laughed, with Rowlands scowling and unfolding his arms, throwing them up in the air in mock protest.
Reynolds replied with a smile. ‘The black man’s always the bad guy, is he?’
‘Well, it’s either that or ugly, so take your pick.’
The inspector looked from Jessica to Rowlands then back again. ‘Fair enough. I’m the bad guy.’
Jessica saw Cole smiling broadly before he quietened them down. ‘Did you enjoy your morning off?’ he asked her.
‘I slept all morning just like you said.’
It was clear from the chief inspector’s raised eyebrows that he didn’t believe her.
‘All right then,’ he said. ‘We have had some information back this morning which will bring everyone up to date on the attack on Anthony Thompson’s house last
night.’ He turned to Reynolds. ‘Jason?’
The inspector looked at a set of papers in his hand and pushed his chair back slightly to make sure the others could see him better. ‘Jess was with me last night, so she knows some of this
but some of you are new, so I’ll go through it all. Yesterday evening, while Jess and myself were attending to another matter, we got a call to say someone had tried to set fire to Anthony
Thompson’s house. The person who lives opposite spotted someone prowling around just after dark. They saw him hanging around Anthony’s front door with something they said looked
suspicious. They left their house and crossed the road, which led to the person running off. It was only then he smelled petrol and called us. No fire was started but large parts of the front of
Anthony’s house had been covered in it.’
‘Was Anthony inside?’ Louise asked.
Reynolds nodded. ‘Yes but he didn’t hear anything. He was a bit . . . wired.’
‘How do you mean?’
Jessica answered: ‘He’s hard to read. You never know if he’s drunk, high, or just putting it on. Sometimes it’s like a combination of all three. He was there but he
seemed oblivious to it all. His neighbour ended up cleaning the door for him.’
Louise seemed confused but Jessica thought she didn’t know the half of it considering she hadn’t met the man. ‘Did we get any sort of description?’ she asked.
Reynolds shook his head. ‘Not really, just a man in dark clothing. Relatively thin, quick at running, that sort of thing.’
‘What about a petrol can?’ DS Cornish added.
‘He ran off with whatever he stored the liquid in. It must have been fairly heavy before he emptied everything out of it, so he might have had a vehicle nearby. We have been going
door-to-door this morning but can’t find anyone else who saw it. No footprints or anything else on site either.’
Jessica knew Ryan didn’t drive, but that didn’t necessarily rule him out in her mind. Just because it was heavy, it wouldn’t be impossible to carry.
‘Do we have any obvious suspects?’ Cornish asked.
Reynolds glanced quickly at Jessica before turning back to face the others. He knew she was thinking of Ryan Chadwick. ‘We’re not sure. Not really. Obviously there are connections to
both Martin and Ryan Chadwick. I spoke to my source at the hotel they are staying at earlier who told me that neither of the two men were on site as far as they know. They’re not completely
sure about Ryan but Martin was definitely away. From what I’m told, he leaves the hotel late morning or at lunchtime every day and doesn’t return until later in the evening.’