Retribution - A Dish served Cold

Chapter Two

He grabbed the document from John's hand. "The Chief Constable will hear about this."

"Excuse me, sir, who are you? I need your name for my records."

"Philip Carstairs, my father is Sir William Carstairs."

"I know him. He's a great guy," said John. "Now, please assist my officers and get in line with the others."

"Look, you moron, I have no intention of going anywhere."

John chuckled. "Sir, I can have you dragged out of here faster than a ferret up a drainpipe. Sergeant, cuff this gentleman and guide him to the wagon. If he resists, you have my permission to use reasonable force."

Handcuffed and forced out of the building, Carstairs shouted, "I'll have your rank for this."

"You do not appear bothered, sir," said Inspector Peters.

"I looked into his eyes. Bloodshot eyes are a common symptom of intoxication from alcohol, cocaine, and marijuana. I doubt he will remember anything of importance. His father is the local member of parliament and will not be a happy bunny when he finds out his son's in a cell."

"There's more, guv. We checked out the barns. One is being used to grow marijuana."

"Our tip-off was correct. Before we leave, make sure a couple of officers remain behind. Can't have the evidence going walkies."

"Already organised, sir."

It was past sunrise when John said to his Sergeant, "Right, I'm off the station. I'll brief the duty officer before you arrive with the happy people."

***

John arrived back at Bellstead Police station at seven. Weary, he strolled through the entrance. "Sir," said the desk sergeant.

"Can't stop," said John, "Have a ton of paperwork to complete before the wagons arrive."

"Sir, there's been a fire at your sister's house."

John saw the misery in the Sergeant's face. "Are you sure you've got the right address?"

"Two Langdon Crescent, sir."

"Do you know how she is?"

"They couldn't save her, sir." The Sergeant watched the expression on John's face.

Confused by the Sergeant's words, anger, pain, and sadness enveloped him. "That can't be right. A bog-standard house fire and the brigade couldn't save her?"

"The intense heat prevented the firefighters from entering when they arrived. The caller did say the brigade had recovered a body. "From what the fire officer told me. If it's your sister, she'll be in the mortuary? Sorry but that's all I know."

"Thanks, Sergeant. When Inspector Peters arrives, tell him my news, and I'll be in touch. I'm going to the fire station."

"Will do, sir."

John sat in the vehicle for several minutes and lit a cigarette while dealing with his sister's death. As kids, they had been close, but she did her thing with her girlfriends and he with the lads as they grew older. He remembered his fights with those who bothered her at school. She had been dad's favourite, but then his mum treated them both the same. She had been the chief bridesmaid at his wedding to Elsie but hadn't married. She was attractive, and he once asked her why. She told him she never found the right man. Now she was gone. How could it have happened? She was so careful. Tears filled his eyes, but he wiped them away. He should have visited more than he had, gone out for a meal, but then life got in the way. 

He returned to being a Chief Inspector and concluded if you do not know the answer find someone who does.

Although breaking the rules, he drove with his siren and blue light flashing until he parked his Rover in the fire station car park. A middle-aged man still wearing his white helmet of a watch commander stopped him. 

The man rubbed his eyes. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I hope you can," said John. I was informed you attended a fire at two Langdon Crescent early this morning."

"And who might you be, sir?"

John removed his warrant card for the officer to read. "Chief Inspector Daniels. It was my sister's house."

"Andy Davis, watch commander. I'm sorry for your loss. Under the circumstances, we should talk in my office. "He pointed. "This way."

John followed, passing the crew, hosing down the fire engine.

Inside his small office, the man pointed to a chair. "What I'm about to tell you is based on experience. The evidence shows an accelerant entering through the letterbox was at the seat of the fire."

Controlling his rage, John physically shook from head to toe.

"The house was an inferno; your sister did not stand a chance. My rescue team found her in bed. I suspect smoke inhalation killed her."

Sickened, John placed his head in his hands but forced himself to contain his emotion.

"We will, of course, investigate the cause of the fire today."

John sighed. "Thank you for talking to me. I understand my sister is in the mortuary."

"That's right."

"Can I visit the house?"

"I wouldn't recommend going there. What the fire didn't destroy, water and smoke did. It's your decision, and I understand why. I suggest you go and say goodbye to your sister."

John stood and held out his hand. "Thanks for the advice."

He muttered to himself on returning to his car. "Whoever and wherever you are. Your dead meat on a butcher's hook."

***

A short drive took John to the mortuary. He produced his warrant card at reception and asked if he could see his sister.

The young woman wearing a white surgical smock checked his card. "The lady came in early this morning. I'll have to check with my colleague that she is presentable."

She returned after ten minutes. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Please come with me."

As they entered the main autopsy area, John saw his sister's body on a stainless steel slab. A white sheet covered her body.

A middle-aged man raised his head. "We haven't started the autopsy, Chief Inspector. Take as long as you want."

"I need to talk to her," said John as he stood next to his sister. "Thank you for washing her face." He stroked her hair and kissed her on the forehead. "This, you didn't deserve, and I promise you those who did this will suffer. Lifting her hand, he held it to his chest. "Sleep well." Gently he crossed her arms and drew the sheet over her face.

He turned to the man. "Thank you." John had seen enough. He turned, returned to his car and drove. After parking outside his house, John went inside and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He drank from the bottle before heaving it at the kitchen wall. "If it's the last thing I ever do, Elsie, I'll make those bastards pay."

When his phone rang, his mood quietened as he listened to his snitch.