‘We’ll see. What’s the betting there are a few more little details Mr Mullen hasn’t paid enough attention to?’

‘You’ve given him a chance to work out his story now, though. You warned him you were going to ask for more names.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, if Mr Mullen wasn’t at the Broken Wheel that night, he wouldn’t be able to make up names off the top of his head, would he? So shouldn’t we have asked him right there and then?’

‘My guess is he’d have said he couldn’t remember. And if I tried pushing him, I’d look like a heartless bitch.’

‘True.’

‘And Mr Mullen would have got all stressed, and a doctor would have come and kicked us out.’

‘So …?’

‘So this way, I’ve done the caring and considerate bit and given him time to think about it while he’s recovering from his injuries. If I’ve judged him right, the longer he has to think about it, the more anxious he’ll get. Then he’ll start trying to think up something to give us when we come back. That’s where he’ll go wrong.’

‘Diane, I wouldn’t have believed it possible, but I think you’re getting more devious than ever.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You really think these tactics will work on Brian Mullen?’

‘Yes. Don’t you?’

‘Only if he’s guilty.’

For once, Keith Wade wasn’t out in his garden supervising operations in Darwin Street. Not that there was much to see now, apart from the tent, a few metres of tape outside number 32, and a different member of the chorus from Pirates rehearsing his act at the gate.

Cooper had to ring the bell of Wade’s house for several minutes before there was a thumping on the stairs in the hallway and the door opened. Wade glared at Cooper, then recognized Fry standing behind him.

‘What’s happened?’ he said. ‘What’s the panic?’

He was unshaven and bleary-eyed, dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt that looked as though it had just been thrown on. Well, at least he didn’t sleep in the woolly sweater. And he hadn’t said ‘where’s the fire?’, which might have seemed tasteless.

‘Sorry, did we wake you up, sir?’ said Fry.

‘Yes, I told you – I do late shifts.’

‘We won’t keep you long. This is my colleague, DC Cooper.’

Wade glanced up and down the street. ‘You’d better come in a minute.’

His house was pretty much what she would have expected from a divorced man living on his own. Stale smells of cooking and body odour, mingling with cigarette smoke. He had to move piles of newspapers off chairs to let them sit down, and one glimpse of the kitchen told Fry that its condition wouldn’t compare to Lindsay Mullen’s, even after a disastrous fire.

‘Yes, of course I remember Brian arriving that night,’ said Wade when she prompted him. ‘How is he, by the way?’

‘Physically fine. We hope he’ll be discharged today.’

‘Great. He’s a brave bloke, you know.’

‘Did you see how he arrived?’

‘No. He was only a couple of houses away by the time I saw him. There was too much else going on, you know. He looked pretty dazed, but he recognized me.’

‘What did he say?’

Wade frowned. ‘I can’t remember exactly. Should I have taken notes? It didn’t seem that important.’

‘No, I understand. But if you could try …’

‘Well, he wanted to know if Lindsay and the kids were still in the house,’ said Wade. ‘That’s what he was bothered about, obviously. When I said I thought they were, he went sort of berserk and ran off.’

‘And that’s when he tried to get into the house?’

‘He did get in. The firemen had broken the door down by then. Brian ran past them and was in the house before they could stop him. Brave, like I said. I feel really sorry for him, you know. We’ve always been good friends, and good neighbours. As for little Jack and Liam, they were nice lads. It’s such a shame.’

For the second time, Wade seemed to have forgotten that Lindsay Mullen had died in the fire, too. It might be unconscious, but there had to be a reason for the oversight.

‘How had Brian and Lindsay been getting on recently?’ asked Fry.

‘Sorry?’

‘You knew them well, and you live right next door. You must have been aware of any problems in their marriage. Domestic arguments tend to get a bit loud, and you’re only a few feet away.’

Wade shifted uneasily. ‘I don’t want to say anything bad about them. It wouldn’t be right.’

‘In these circumstances, it’s not right to keep anything back,’ said Fry. ‘You must try to be objective if you’re going to help us, sir.’

He looked at her, and then at Cooper. Battling with his conscience – if he had one. Or weighing up which approach would be most to his advantage, perhaps. Fry was pleased they’d got him out of bed. His replies might be a little less calculated than if they’d caught him in his guardian-of-the-streets mode.

‘OK, I have heard a few rows from next door,’ he said. ‘But it’s normal, isn’t it? God knows, I had enough bust-ups with Pat before she left.’

‘Did the Mullens’ arguments happen recently?’ asked Cooper.

‘Well, there’d been more of them recently. I could hear the shouting, not what they were arguing about, you understand. I wasn’t eavesdropping.’

‘Of course not.’

Wade hesitated. ‘Come to think of it, I reckon I heard them arguing on Sunday night.’

‘The night of the fire?’

‘Yes, it must have been before Brian went out. I recall he slammed the front door a bit hard as he left.’

‘These arguments, were they getting worse?’ asked Fry. ‘Do you think they might have been close to breaking up?’

‘Breaking up? Why would they?’

‘Well, it happened to you, didn’t it?’

Wade seemed to consider that. ‘Perhaps Lindsay was under stress, with the three children. It can put pressure on a couple, I reckon. But walking away from a marriage doesn’t make it better.’

‘Do you and your ex-wife have any children, sir?’

‘No, we never had kids. Pity – I’ve always liked children.’

Before they left his house, Fry reminded Wade of his promise to email the photos from his digital camera. ‘If you prefer, we could borrow the camera now and return it when we’ve downloaded the pictures?’

‘No, no – I’ll do it,’ said Wade. ‘I’ve been a bit busy, that’s all. But I’ll get around to it, I promise.’

Outside, Fry pulled out her phone and called Gavin Murfin.

‘How are you getting on, Gavin?’

‘I haven’t been able to trace the taxi driver yet. Jed Skinner can’t remember which firm it was that Brian Mullen used that night. Skinner lives in Lowbridge, so the two of them went off in completely different directions when they left the Broken Wheel. I’m running out of time now, Diane, so it’s going to have to wait.’

‘OK, Gavin. But otherwise, how was Skinner?’

‘A bit oily.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I found him in the transport department at the distribution centre. He must be their lubrication specialist, by the look of him. Anyway, he confirms Brian Mullen’s story to the letter. They went to the Forester’s Arms first, then on to the Broken Wheel. They left some time after one. He saw Mullen get into the taxi.’

‘Right. Thanks, Gavin.’

Murfin breathed heavily in her ear for a moment before he rang off.

‘Jed Skinner was word perfect, Diane,’ he said. ‘I wish you luck if you’re going to try to break that alibi.’

16

Fry found a message waiting for her when she got back to the office. DS Fry, please see the DI. ASAP. Everything was ASAP around here.

DI Hitchens had strong hands, with clean, carefully trimmed fingernails. He placed them on his desk in his most serious manner. There was still no ring on his finger, though he’d lived with a nurse for a couple of years now, and they’d bought a home together in Dronfield Woodhouse. Fry wondered again about the white scar that crawled across the middle knuckles of his fingers. No one had ever mentioned him getting injured, or being involved in a fight. It looked intriguing. But then, it was probably just the result of something very boring – an accident with a potato peeler, or a hand caught in the blades of a lawn mower.