Liar Liar - страница 21

Sanderson picked at one of the corners of her coaster and cursed her luck. What was the point in her arranging dates? Something always seemed to come up to put the kibosh on it. It wasn’t Helen’s fault – someone senior needed to be running the stakeout and her boss didn’t know she had dinner plans – but still. The simple truth of it was that she was tired of being single and irritated by the fact that work always got in the way. Before she’d joined the Force she’d had a run of boyfriends – handsome, fun, likeable guys whose company she’d enjoyed. But as soon as you put on the uniform, something changes. It’s not just that your life is not your own any more or that you often work nights. It’s something to do with being a copper. Women are supposed to like men in uniform, but it doesn’t work the other way round. Are men intimidated by female police officers? Are they uncomfortable with the authority they have over them? Are they worried that they will be pulled up for every minor vice or misdemeanour? Whatever the reason, they seem to back off. No doubt about it, the uniform was a massive turnoff.

Sanderson finished her drink and returned to the bar for a refill. She chided herself for being so negative. Surely it was possible to find someone – Charlie and many others like her had managed it. Privately, Sanderson rather envied Charlie – her happy home, her baby girl. She knew it meant sacrifices on a personal and professional level, but at least it meant something. Charlie’s life seemed very grounded compared to hers. But she was never going to get there unless she tried and she had been looking forward to meeting Will tonight. He sounded fun from his emails, had an interesting job and he was certainly easy on the eye.

The question was whether she would make it. Helen had told the team that finding Gary Spence was their top priority and a number of his known haunts were now under surveillance. His home, his mates, a couple of snooker halls and this pub – a place he liked to frequent at the end of stressful day, extorting money from desperate debtors who hadn’t read the small print properly. As Sanderson returned to her seat in the corner, she felt several sets of eyes following her progress. Did they suspect her? Or did they just like the look of her? It was feasible that they had already called Spence and warned him not to come. It was impossible to tell and as with all stakeouts there was only one way to find out.

Watch and wait.

He recognized her immediately. As she put on her protective suit, mask and goggles, he took in her trim figure. She was pretty and well groomed, her glossy chestnut hair always secure in a very professional-looking bun. He had observed her at a number of burnt-out properties over the past year, diligently carrying out her work, and had even looked her up on Facebook. Her name was Deborah Parks and he always felt a little charge when looking at her.

She had been working at Travell’s Timber Yard since lunchtime. The massive site looked like a war zone – the main warehouse had burnt to the ground, as had most of the stock, temporarily turning the skies over this part of town black. It’d been an amazing thing to witness and had drawn big crowds, but now they had all disappeared. Back to X Factor and Celebrity BB. They thought the show was over. They didn’t value what was right in front of them. They couldn’t see what he could see.

Deborah Parks was on the move now, entering the shell of the warehouse and temporarily out of view. A couple of uniformed officers guarded the main gate, but the site was huge and the chain link fence had not been well maintained – they obviously didn’t get too many timber thieves round here. It was a matter of a few seconds to haul up the bottom of the fence and roll underneath.

Dusting himself down, he surveyed the scene, pausing for a moment to breathe in the strong aroma of carbonized wood that rose from the ashes of this once-vibrant business. Moving out of sight, he began filming. A slow panorama at first, taking in the full devastation of the scene, then a series of zoomed-in close-ups. The devil is in the detail at fire sites – the small remnants of the conflagration, the things that survived, tell the story best. A successful family business that had taken years to build – destroyed in less than an hour. Such was the power of fire.