Chapter 54
Lottie has spent a disturbed night in police custody.
She was allowed to have one phone call with Tim – an emotional conversation that ended with him saying that he loved her and that everything would be all right.
She hadn’t believed him last night and she feels even less sure of herself this morning.
But she knows enough from watching TV dramas that the police can’t hold you very long without eventually charging you with something. And that hasn’t happened yet.
It is impossible to tell what time it is from within this airless building with its artificial lighting, outdated air con and few windows.
But she is given some breakfast and then taken from the cells back to the same meeting room for a second interview.
She is offered a cup of coffee and this time she gratefully accepts, asking for it to be strong with lots of milk and sugar.
The duty officer looks at her sourly as though she has just given a precise order to a barista in a hipster coffee shop.
‘Look,’ says Lottie, as soon as she is sitting face to face with Detective Price and her young male colleague again. ‘This is ridiculous. I haven’t done anything. You can’t keep holding me here without any evidence.’
Detective Price leans across the table. Lottie can clearly see each age spot, line and pore; this is a face that has seen too many early starts and late nights, not enough SPF or moisturiser, too much caffeine and probably nicotine as well if her teeth are anything to go by.
Lottie sits back in her chair and tries not to appear as though she is recoiling.
‘Oh, but we do have evidence, Mrs Jenkins,’ she corrects. ‘Plenty.’
Lottie folds her arms in a stance that belies her nerves.
‘Let’s hear it then,’ she says.
Detective Price raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced at this bravado. Instead, she takes a different line.
‘Would you agree that relations between yourself and the Woolfs have not been good since you moved into your holiday rental a week ago?’
Lottie gives a hollow laugh and a shake of her head.
‘Well, it’s no secret that we weren’t happy about finding ourselves right next door to a full-blown house reno.’
‘No, indeed,’ says Detective Price. ‘In fact, we have several different eye-witness accounts that say you were seen arguing with Mr Woolf in a heated manner about the renovation project and on one occasion you took out your frustration on one of his employees from the building site. In fact, you trespassed onto private land and damaged a piece of valuable equipment by throwing it into the street.’
‘They were playing really offensive music, really loud. Don’t me and my family have any personal rights?’
‘Would you say you are a calm, rational person, Mrs Jenkins? Or is it fair to say you have a bit of a temper? Prone to flying off the handle a bit?’
‘What has this got to do with anything? Have you considered what personality traits Tobias Woolf has? Or anyone else in his family? Or in his employment? Or even in this town? Anybody could have started that fire.’
Detective Price ignores this with a sniff.
‘Have you ever made threats to or about Mr Woolf or any member of his family?’
‘No,’ answers Lottie. ‘I don’t believe so. Not to my knowledge.’ Detective Price cocks an eyebrow but says nothing. ‘I honestly don’t remember.’
‘You were overheard discussing the renovation project – the rights and wrongs of it – by several people on differing occasions over the last week. What’s your opinion of people with second homes in areas such as this one?’
‘What are yours? Surely you must see the effect it has, is having still, on the local community?’
‘May I remind you, Mrs Jenkins, that you and your family are tourists yourselves, making use of a local property and all that the resort affords to holidaymakers? What makes you believe you are in the right and the Woolfs are in the wrong?’
Lottie sighs.
‘I’m not saying it’s that simple. Of course not. But Tobias Woolf and some of his men were rude and inconsiderate to me and my family. In fact, my young son was very nearly involved in an accident that could have been catastrophic …’
‘Could have been? Why, what happened?’
‘Well, I wasn’t actually there at the time.’ Detective Price gives a wry smile, exchanges a glance with her colleague. ‘But my son found his way onto the building site. One of the builders stepped in thankfully and stopped Josh from getting hurt. But the point is, it’s not safe.’
‘Sounds like the builders were quite vigilant and helpful if this episode is anything to go by.’
‘Yes, well, the man in question – he was the only one who actually seemed to care. A nice guy, Petras, I believe he is called. He and his wife, Mila are new to the area.’
‘Yes, we are aware of these two individuals but that’s neither here nor there, since events have overtaken us.’
‘They seemed like honest, hard-working people to me,’ says Lottie. ‘For what it’s worth.’
‘And yet you violently disagreed with the building work that was providing them with an income.’
Lottie has no answer to this. She feels tied up in knots, her words twisted around her, until she is strait-jacketed by them.
Detective Price gives another business-like sniff.
‘In any case, Petras and Mila Kaslauskas are currently seriously ill in hospital, suffering from smoke inhalation plus injuries sustained from falling debris and collapsed scaffolding.’
‘What?’ says Lottie, sitting forward. ‘Are they the ones who were found in the fire?’
Detective Price eyes her with interest, assessing this reaction.
‘How do you feel about that, Mrs Jenkins?’
Lottie cannot answer for a moment. She had no idea who the victims of the fire could be, had hoped it would be someone completely anonymous and unknown to her, terrible though it was.
But she can clearly picture these people; their faces, their mannerisms, the tone of their voices.
Their hopes and fears so obvious, even from the few, brief times she had observed them.
‘Well it’s awful, obviously. Terrible. I mean what were they even doing there at the property at night?’
As soon as this question leaves her lips she knows how silly it is.
It was clear to anyone who had eyes that Petras and Mila were desperate and most likely homeless.
Why didn’t she and Tim do something to help them before now?
She swallows down these guilty thoughts. DI Price continues to eye her beadily.
‘Why? Were they not supposed to be there, Mrs Jenkins? Wrong place, wrong time?’
This woman is goading her, she knows. Trying to trip her up, make her angry. To incriminate herself.
‘Will they survive do you know?’ she says instead. ‘How are they doing?’
Detective Price gives a casual shrug.
‘Well, it’s not looking good. You do realise that if either one or both of them dies, this will be a case of manslaughter, carrying a serious custodial sentence? These problems do seem to follow you around, don’t they?’
Lottie stares back at this woman, defiant.
‘I didn’t do anything wrong and you don’t have any evidence. You have no right to hold me here and question me like this.’
‘Well, that’s not entirely true, Mrs Jenkins. You see, when we searched your holiday rental we found some things that didn’t belong there.’
Lottie swallows, her mind reeling. She has no clue what this woman might say next and finds herself gripping the sides of her chair, bracing herself.
‘And?’ she manages to say, though her mouth is now dry, her tongue beginning to pitch and roll with a swell of nausea.
‘And we found some tools. Tools reported to be missing from the Woolf’s property, belonging to one of the builders.’
Lottie laughs, though it is a hollow sound again.
‘That’s ridiculous. I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. There is no way, no reason why something like that could have … unless, I don’t know, maybe they were planted? Perhaps someone is trying to implicate us …’
Detective Price issues another of her withering smiles.
‘No, I don’t think so, Mrs Jenkins. We’ve found fingerprints on them that match with your husband’s, so you see …’
‘Tim?’ says Lottie. ‘No. He would never. That’s not … He just wouldn’t do something like that. Why would he possibly want—’
‘Well, that’s what we’ll find out, won’t we? In the fullness of time.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s here, now. We asked that he come back in for questioning once we’d analysed the tools. I have to say, it doesn’t look good for him either. It remains to be proven whether he caused any damage to the property, the scaffolding for example, but well … we certainly have motive and intent.’
Lottie sits back in her seat, stunned. She feels her mouth fill with saliva. The sour, acidic machine coffee curdling in her stomach.
‘Wait, if Tim’s in here, who’s looking after our son, Josh?’ she cries, standing up.
‘Sit down, Mrs Jenkins. Rest assured, they’re both fine. Our family liaison officer is well trained in such situations.’
‘You can’t do this,’ says Lottie. ‘This isn’t fair. I want to see my son.’
Detective Price looks to her colleague who is watching Lottie wide-eyed, as though he is unsure whether she might bolt suddenly, lash out or worse, cry.
‘See Mrs Jenkins out, Trev,’ she says with a tilt of her head. She turns back to Lottie then. ‘You’re free to leave with your son. But please stay local for now.’
Lottie sags with relief at the thought of seeing Josh in a few moments, of stepping outside and breathing clean, fresh air.
‘And Tim? What about my husband?’
‘He’ll remain in custody while he continues to help us with our investigation. You might want to consider seeking legal advice.’