Chapter 17 #3
Like Nate, I had a trust fund, set up by my accountant father, only Stan Garrity hadn’t just been a legitimate accountant. He’d been the money man for criminals, people traffickers and drug dealers, the sort of man you could really look up to, if you were criminally inclined.
The trust fund was clean. Stan had made money through legal means and this was what had been put away for his children.
He understood the stock market and tax laws and after Nate had gone through it with me, and underlined that I was cutting my nose to spite my face by not accepting it, I used most of it to buy the house that I was existing in.
I was punishing myself for accepting money from a man who’d fathered me but let me enter the care system.
The sensible part of my brain knew he’d done me a favour; I couldn’t have had better parents than Cassian and Romy Caddick, but the many grudges I had against Stan were stacked high.
“I have few words about the state of this place.” Taz had found a frying pan. “It’s like you’re squatting here.”
“I think I’ve only ever squatted everywhere I’ve lived. What are you cooking? Bacon?”
“Bacon and egg butties. You don’t look like you’ve done parkrun.” He broke an egg into the frying pan. “Do you want one?”
I still hadn’t eaten breakfast. “I’d love one. Then I’m going to sleep. Parkrun didn’t happen.”
“Called out?” The frying pan sizzled with another egg.
“Yes. Another fire.” It would be in the press soon. “A thirteen-year-old boy was locked in an outbuilding which was set alight. He’s in ICU.”
“Connected to your case or separate?” He started to butter large baps.
“Connected. It was one of the outbuildings at Roselea.” I sat at the kitchen table, resting my chin in one of my hands because I didn’t have the energy to keep my head up.
Taz filled the kettle and switched it on, taking two mugs from the draining board. “You have yourself a little fire starter.”
“It seems that way. The fires have all been different, so if it is the same person, they don’t have a preferred accelerant.” Not all offenders did, but there would be commonalities, which we’d probably only know when we’d found them.
“Who was the kid?”
“Local boy who was a bit of a loner. He liked breaking into abandoned properties and taking videos, according to his gran. He planned on sharing the videos online, and has done one or two, but none of Roselea. We have his laptop; we just need to be able to get past his password. He knew what he was doing with security.” That was one of the focuses for the team this afternoon; find out what was on that laptop.
Cade’s phone had been with him, and there was a chance we could get it working as the fire hadn’t been that hot.
Had what he’d been filming led to someone getting anxious about what he’d seen?
My brain was too tired to try to unravel a single thread.
“Plastering’s a quiet job if you want to sleep.” The air fryer beeped and he pulled out the drawer, using two forks to lift the bacon.
“Were you planning on eating all of that yourself?” He’d cooked a whole pack.
“Probably. I’ll share it with you though.”
I watched as he dished everything up, presenting a thick sandwich on a plain Ikea plate with a mug of tea.
“Thank you. You’re the best non housemate ever.” I squeezed ketchup over the egg, put the top back on and sank my teeth into it.
“I’ll add it to my bill.”
“Do.” The word did not come out formed. “Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do on a Saturday? No girlfriend or boyfriend to carry shopping bags for?” I was fishing and it was obvious.
“No. Girlfriends haven’t been compatible with my job and I’ve lived away from Manchester for about four years. My house is rented out, so I’m staying with my mum and my brothers and sisters who are still at home. And my dad.”
“You’ve not mentioned him before.” More fishing.
“Because he’s the sanest person in the family, apart from marrying my mother. I’ll be moving out in a few weeks; just waiting for my house sale to complete.” He sat down opposite me, the bacon twice as thick in his. “This is the first bacon I’ve had for about two years.”
“Why?”
“I was veggie.”
I shook my head and decided I didn’t have the brain power right now and the obvious question would require effort to process the answer.
“I’ll tell you another time. But I don’t want to hang around my parents as my mother is a hard taskmaster, and I cannot emphasise that enough.” Half his butty had been demolished already.
“What’s she like?”
“Her mother was Polish and her father was Scottish. She goes to mass three times a week and is on the cleaning rota. She runs a couple of church groups and there is no part of anyone’s business that she doesn’t know.”
“Including yours?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We all think she can read our minds, or she has cameras installed in our houses, cars and showers. Although, to do that, she’d have to have some technical knowledge.” He rammed the rest of the sandwich into his mouth.
“She’s not tech savvy?”
Taz shook his head, swallowing hard, then swilling it down with tea. “I’m not entirely sure she knows how to turn the TV on, although that may be because she never gets the chance.”
“I feel sorry for her.”
“Don’t. She has a great life. But it would be even better with an extension on the back of her house, or so she says.”
“When’s she going to get it?”
“When she agrees that my brother’s building firm can do it. She’s angling for me to do it and rope him in, then she’ll save money, but I don’t have the time. I can do your bathroom, and maybe this.” He looked round the kitchen. “Is it even safe?”
“I’ve had the gas checked.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“It’s safe enough to live in.”
He didn’t say anything, just raised his brows and picked up our plates.
“I’ll clean up when I’ve slept. I’m really sorry; I should be plastering my own bathroom.”
“You’ll get an opportunity to plaster in here, so don’t worry.
My brother says he’ll sort an electrician out and a plasterer to do your hall, stairs and landing.
You’d need to pay, but it’ll be mate’s rates.
” He rinsed his hands, wiping them on the battered jeans he was wearing, then pushed his fingers through unkempt hair.
“That sounds like a solution. Do you know anyone who can do flooring?”
“My nephew’s a tiler if you want tiles. His girlfriend’s dad’s a carpet fitter.
When this case is done, can you take a couple of days of leave to meet with them and decide what you want?
Then they can crack on. You’d only have the decorating and furnishing the place to worry about then.
” He looked around the kitchen. “Were the chairs and table in here when you moved in?”
“They were, which was handy because I had no furniture.” I smothered a yawn. “I need to sleep. Are you going to murder me while I’m napping?”
“That’s not in today’s plans.”
“Shame. I could’ve done with a few days off now.”