Read Death Trap Online

Authors: Patricia Hall

Death Trap (28 page)

‘I doubt it,' the fireman said. ‘It shows all the signs of starting in the hallway, close to the front door. An accelerant through the letterbox maybe. We'll know more when we get inside and that won't be for a while yet.'

‘And everyone got out safely?' Barnard asked, his mouth dry.

‘As far as we know the place was empty apart from the three girls in the top floor, and they're all safe. Showed remarkable initiative in the circumstances. They could all have been killed by the smoke if they hadn't decided to climb down with sheets. Anyone older and less agile wouldn't have stood a chance.'

‘Where are they now?' Barnard asked.

‘In the house opposite. Some woman took them in.'

He crossed the road, tapped on the half-open door of the house opposite and went in. He found Kate and her friends huddled in blankets in the sitting room being plied with tea and comfort by a tired-looking middle-aged woman in a dressing gown with a worried expression who looked immensely relieved to see him. He kissed Kate on the cheek.

‘That sounds like a very lucky escape,' he said dryly. He was aware of Kate's tired eyes lighting up when she saw him, but studiously addressed himself to all three of them.

‘Have you got anywhere to stay for tonight?' he asked.

Tess nodded. ‘My friends in Holland Park Avenue can put two of us up on sofas. But they haven't got a car to come and fetch us. We were going to get a taxi but we've got no money. Only Kate had the sense to grab her bag  . . .'

‘I'll take you over there,' Barnard said quickly. ‘And Kate can come back to my place. You can begin to sort everything else out tomorrow after you've had some sleep. I think you've had enough for one night.'

NINETEEN

N
either Kate nor Harry Barnard slept much that night. When they arrived at his flat he had plied her with a stiff whiskey and put her into his own bed, saying that he would sleep on the sofa. But she had tossed around until dawn, and when she decided to get up and made her way to the kitchen, with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she found him already sitting at the breakfast bar looking tired and sipping at a mug of coffee.

‘Do you want some?' he had asked, waving at the Italian coffee pot on the stove. She nodded.

‘You look rough,' she said.

‘And you,' he came back with half a smile. He poured her coffee and she added milk and plenty of sugar.

‘Someone set the house on fire deliberately, didn't they?' she asked quietly.

‘I think so,' Barnard admitted. He could see no point in hiding the truth from her. She would find out soon enough.

‘To kill us?' Kate asked. ‘Was it the people who didn't like me taking pictures?'

‘Much more likely to be a way to get at the landlord. There's a war going on down there to get protection money out of landlords. You were probably just collateral damage.'

Kate shuddered. ‘That's not much comfort, la,' she said. She sipped the sweet, reviving brew. ‘But I need to go back,' she said. ‘I need to see the others and find out if anything survived in the flat.' She glanced down. ‘I've got absolutely nothing to wear,' she said, and for the first time she felt as if she would cry. He slipped off his stool and put an arm round her shoulders.

‘Leave it to me,' he said. ‘Have a bath, you still smell all smokey, and have some breakfast, help yourself to whatever you fancy. I'll go and see a friend of mine who lives not far away and see what I can borrow for you. Will that do for the moment?'

‘I can't go to work today,' she said. ‘Ken won't be best pleased.'

‘Of course you can't. You can ring the old bastard later, explain what's happened and take the day off. I'll run you back to Notting Hill when you feel up to it. You can talk to the fire brigade and the police, and then meet your friends. And you can stay here for as long as you need to, so you've at least got a roof over your head. Will that suit?'

Kate attempted a smile, her eyes brimming. ‘Thank you,' she said. ‘No strings?'

‘No strings,' he agreed hoping that did not come out with any sign of the reluctance he felt. For the moment, he thought, this was as good as he was going to get.

Notting Hill police station was in turmoil when Kate O'Donnell and Harry Barnard eventually arrived there about midday. She slipped out of the Capri feeling self-conscious in borrowed slacks she had had to pull in round the waist and a loose sweater. But as soon as she announced at the desk who she was, she was hustled away to an interview room to make a statement about the previous night's events, and Barnard found his way to the CID room to seek out DS Eddie Lamb, who was at his desk and looked astonished to see his friend.

‘I brought Kate O'Donnell in to make a statement about the fire,' Barnard said. ‘Someone tried to kill my bird and I'm not happy.'

Lamb looked around the room quickly. ‘I'm not sure you're
persona grata
in here,' he said in a low voice. ‘Slim Hickman seems to have got word about your interference, as he calls it, and is complaining to your DCI. Best if we slip out for a quickie and have a chat, I think.'

Barnard shrugged, glancing round the room angrily. Most of the shirt-sleeved detectives avoided his eye. ‘My DCI's fully in the picture,' he said. ‘I'm not stupid. Hickman's the one who needs to cover his back.'

Lamb winced and urged Barnard back towards the door.

‘Just let me tell Kate where we'll be,' Barnard said to Lamb as they went downstairs.

‘I'll do it,' Lamb said and put his head round the interview room door on the ground floor to relay the message.

‘So was it arson?' Barnard asked as they crossed Ladbroke Grove and went into a pub Barnard did not know, where the lounge bar was almost empty and still smelled of the previous night's cigarette smoke and stale beer.

‘Oh yes,' Lamb said. ‘Someone on their way home late spotted a black lad running down Argyll Gardens and noticed he smelled of petrol. Unfortunately he was almost home and didn't spot the fire, so he took no notice. Just thought it was odd but didn't want to challenge a West Indian. No one saw the fire until it had taken a good hold. Kate and her friends were very lucky to get out the way they did. Anyone older or slower would have died.' Barnard nodded as Lamb confirmed his own assessment of what had happened.

‘And what about the other thing? Did you get anywhere chasing up the girls who spotted Janice Jones the night she was killed?'

‘I did, as a matter of fact,' Lamb said, with some satisfaction. ‘I caught up with them living in Shepherd's Bush. And I got a pretty good description of the men they saw with the Jones girl that night. I need to have another go at them but I think they can identify them if I push a bit harder. It sounds to me like Stuttering Stan and his mate, though they don't seem to have had that mangy dog with them. So if the Yard come thundering down here in response to the fuss Mr lawyer Manley is making in the press, I've got my back covered. Bloody Slim Hickman is just going to have to take his chances. I'm not swinging for him and his prejudices on this one.'

‘So you reckon Nelson Mackintosh is home and dry? That'll please Kate, anyway.'

‘I never thought he was a likely killer in the first place, did I?' Lamb asked piously. ‘He's not the type. But Hickman's had a grudge against him for years because he was always willing to make waves, stand up for himself and his so-called community, and for anyone else in trouble, come to that. He's been a thorn in Hickman's side for years. But the comeback was always petty stuff from our side, small beer, till now; searches for ganja, noisy parties being raided, street searches, that sort of stuff. Not a lot you could pin down, not a lot the West Indians could go to town about. A murder charge is something else, a whole lot of steps too far, in my book.' Lamb finished his drink and put the glass down on the table noisily. ‘God knows where this leaves Notting Hill CID,' he said. ‘Up the bloody creek, as far as I can see, when most of us had nothing to do with it.'

Barnard sighed and finished his pint. ‘You know the theory? One bad apple? The trouble is one bad apple infects the whole barrel.' He felt infinitely tired and his spirits were only slightly lifted as he spotted Kate at the door, obviously looking for them.

He went over to her and led her to the table. ‘A drink?' he asked, but she shook her head.

‘I'm not thirsty,' she said. She looked at Lamb, her eyes fierce. ‘Will you catch whoever tried to kill us?' she asked.

‘I don't think it was personal,' Lamb said. ‘My guess it was the landlord they were trying to intimidate.'

‘I'm not even sure who the landlord is any more,' Kate said. ‘Miles Beauchamp was trying to sell the house to someone called Roman, but I'm not sure whether he succeeded or not. It was a fraud anyway. His solicitor told me Miles didn't inherit the house when his mother died. But presumably you know all this anyway  . . .'

Lamb flashed a surprised look at Barnard. ‘You're very well informed, Miss O'Donnell. I hope you passed all this on to my colleagues just now.'

‘I'm sure the fire-service people investigating the fire will have tracked down the landlord by now,' Barnard said quickly.

‘You need to catch up with Miles Beauchamp, anyway,' Kate said, her eyes flashing. ‘I'm sure he bumped off his mother, but she seems to have had the sense to change her will. Harry will tell you all about it.'

‘The good news is that Nelson Mackintosh is probably off the hook, Kate,' Barnard said. ‘Eddie here has tracked down the girls you spoke to and is working on finding the two men they saw with Janice Jones before she was killed.'

Kate nodded slowly. ‘It's about time, la,' she said. ‘As far as I can see you're more interested in chasing innocent black men round here than catching the real criminals. That can't be right, can it?'

Lamb did not respond. He got to his feet and raised his hand to Barnard, ignoring Kate entirely. ‘I'd keep a low profile in this neck of the woods for a bit, if I were you mate,' he said. ‘Slim Hickman has a long record of slithering out of sticky situations. I wouldn't be surprised if he did it again. I'll see you around.'

Barnard watched his friend push his way through the thickening crowd of lunchtime drinkers. ‘You were a bit hard on him,' he said mildly. ‘I don't think he had much to do with this mess. And he's right. We shouldn't stick around here. It's all going to get very nasty when the Yard descends in force.'

‘Can we go to see Mrs Mackintosh at least?' Kate asked. ‘Someone should tell her the good news about Nelson.'

Barnard looked doubtful but then nodded. ‘All right,' he said. ‘Just a quick call on the Mackintoshes and then I'll take you back to my place. You look as though you need to sleep. I'll go in to work later and find out what's going down.'

Kate did not argue. For once in her life she was happy for someone else to take charge.

When they got to Poor Man's Corner the door was wide open and a handful of customers were eating and drinking in the cafe. No one looked especially pleased when they walked in. Not even Abraham Righton gave them more than a bleak nod from behind the bar.

‘Are the Mackintoshes at home?' Kate asked Righton who nodded cautiously in the uneasy silence. ‘We picked up some good news for them.'

‘They certainly need that, girl,' Righton said. ‘You know the way up.'

Kate led the way and knocked on the outside door of the flat. Evelina Mackintosh opened it quickly, looking surprised and seeming to hesitate before waving them inside. Like her husband, Kate thought, she appeared to have aged years over the last few weeks. The small living room seemed crowded when they got inside. Nelson Mackintosh was standing by the window gazing down into the street, and spun round to face them with something like horror on his face when he recognised them. There were two boys sitting on the sofa, the younger boy Joseph sitting beside his older brother Ben, whose face was puffy around the eyes as if he had been crying. He too looked horrified when he saw Kate.

‘You?' he said. ‘Why are you here again?'

‘We thought you'd like to hear that the Notting Hill police are pursuing a new lead in the murder case,' Barnard said to Nelson. ‘Nothing's definite, but it looks as though new information will let you off the hook. I'm sure your lawyer will want to know about it.'

‘It a pity they didn't pursue new leads a long time ago,' Mackintosh said bitterly. ‘It's too late now. My family is ruined.'

‘What do you mean?' Kate asked, surprised that Nelson did not seem more relieved by the news they had brought. Evelina gave her a desperate look, tears in her eyes. She glanced at her husband who turned towards Barnard, putting one hand on his older son's shoulder, his face implacable.

‘You warned me Ben had fallen into bad company,' he said. ‘You were right. But I didn't realise how bad it was. He came home this morning and told me what had happened to him last night.'

‘No, Nelson,' Evelina said softly, tears running down her face now. ‘Don't do it.'

‘Be quiet, woman,' Nelson said. ‘This we can't hide. How could we, and face this young woman here? A young woman who tried to help us.'

Kate glanced at Barnard who had gone very still, standing just inside the door and gazing not at her or Nelson but at Ben.

‘What can't you hide?' he asked Ben. ‘Where you in Argyll Gardens last night?' The boy glanced at his father who stared back at him, his face stony. Ben nodded.

‘With a can of petrol?' Ben nodded again, swallowing hard to keep down the tears.

‘Did you know there were people in that house?' Barnard snapped.

‘No,' the boy said. ‘The King, he said the house had been sold and was empty. The landlord was being difficult and needed to be taught who was in charge in Notting Hill.'

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