Chapter 24
808 Words
24
John Lucas stretched and arched his back as he adjusted to the light streaming into his cell. He’d had a better night’s sleep than he had any right to, sleeping on a tough plastic mattress in a cold prison cell. Then again, he’d got used to waking up to whitewashed brick walls and the clanging of metal doors down a corridor. He hadn’t expected to ever have to hear it again, though.
The hatch in the door slid open as a police officer unlocked it and looked in on him.
‘Not dead,’ Lucas called out, raising his hand.
‘Always a bonus,’ said the officer. ‘Saves me a ton of paperwork. You want breakfast?’
‘I’ll pass if that’s alright. I’m still recovering from dinner. Wouldn’t mind a cup of tea, though.’
‘Right you are. They’ll probably call down for you just before nine, to get you in for interviewing again.’
Lucas nodded and put his head back down on the hard mattress. With any luck, the custody clock would run down and he’d be out of here within a couple of hours. He hoped so. Because he had places to be.
Despite two bacon sandwiches and three cups of black coffee, Jack Culverhouse could still feel and taste his hangover. It was something most CID officers got used to with time — there was fun to be had trying to work out which symptoms were due to the drink and which were down to sleep deprivation.
‘Morning, guv!’ Steve Wing bellowed, whilst giving Culverhouse a firm but friendly slap on the back. ‘Got some good news for you.’
‘Unless you’re being transferred to the Outer f*****g Hebrides, I fail to see how it could brighten up my morning,’ Culverhouse replied.
‘Well, you never know. I took a call from the search teams about ten minutes ago. They’ve got an update on what they’ve found.’
Culverhouse squinted as he tried to force the splitting headache to the back of his skull. ‘Go on.’
‘From the scene, not much. The fire was pretty intense, but all they can say for definite is that the fire started by the front door. They reckon it was done with petrol and a hosepipe with a length of thin rope running through it. Acts as a wick, apparently, and means the person doing it can avoid scorching themselves. Makes it forensically more difficult to link someone to the scene.’
‘So is there anything linking Lucas to it? Or are you just wasting my time?’ Culverhouse barked.
‘See, that’s where it gets interesting,’ Steve said. ‘There was nothing at the scene as such, but when they searched Lucas’s home they found a few things that might interest you.’
Culverhouse was, by now, starting to lose what little patience he still had. ‘Steve, will you f*****g spit it out?’
‘Shoes. They managed to gain access to Lucas’s garage, which had a pretty hefty lock on it. There was a pair of shoes in there — size nine, same as Lucas wears — with some mud and grass on the bottom of them. They reckon the type of grass is the same as on Freddie Galloway’s front lawn, and the mud is a pretty close match too.’
‘Pretty close?’
‘Eighty-five percent, they reckon. Could be because the shoes have been worn elsewhere and have been contaminated with a couple of different types of mud. Dunno how it’d stand up in court, but to be honest it might not need to. They also found a jerry can with traces of petrol in the bottom of it. They’re doing analysis on it as we speak, trying to confirm whether it was the same petrol used in the fire. Depends what they can extract from the burnt remains of the house. But that’s not all. The fire officers reckon the curtains and soft furnishings near the front door were splashed with accelerant too, meaning the arsonist would’ve likely needed to have access to the house. Amongst all the tools and stuff in his garage drawers, they found a key. Looks pretty new. They’ve confirmed it matches the lock on Galloway’s front door.’
‘He had a key to Galloway’s house?’
‘Looks like it. There are no prints on the key or the jerry can, but that’s hardly a surprise. There are traces of latex dust which match a box of gloves found in Lucas’s garage.’
‘Excellent. Any DNA on the shoes?’
‘Nothing so far. They’ve managed to get some cotton fibres, probably from the socks he wore, but no hairs or skin fragments or anything like that. You’d expect to find something, but looks like he was careful. There was even latex dust on the laces, showing he likely tied them up whilst wearing the gloves.’
‘Fantastic. Really good work, Steve,’ Culverhouse said, slapping him on the back twice as hard as the Detective Sergeant had done to him a few moments ago. ‘Right. Where’s Knight?’
‘Gone to fetch something from the printer upstairs.’
‘Did you tell her about the forensics?’
‘Yeah, she was here when the call came in. We wanted to wait until you arrived before doing anything, though. Thought you might want to take the lead on this one.'
‘Send her down to the custody suite when she gets back, will you? I think it’s about time we had another little chat with Mr Lucas.’
- Writer
