Where There's Smoke

By the time she reached the agency, Kate had almost convinced herself that it had been nothing. A wind from the tunnel, a piece of paper, and her imagination. She actually smiled at the thought of leaping out to confront an empty crisp packet. Then she remembered Ellis standing in the doorway the day before, and her smile faded.

Even so, it was a good day. An importer of South American artefacts phoned out of the blue and commissioned her to handle the publicity for an exhibition of Mexican jewellery.

She had been recommended by a friend, the man told her with a faint American accent. He had been out of the country for the past month and would be out again the following week, so he didn’t have time to waste sifting through PR agencies.

Was she interested? She was.

The acquisition of a new client lifted her some way back towards the optimism she had begun to feel the previous day. It felt good to speak to someone without worrying about what they had seen or heard. She was eagerly reading the material the importer had faxed her when Caroline buzzed through and said that Detective Inspector Collins was downstairs.

Kate told her to send him up. She wondered why he was calling in person. They’ve caught him, flashed through her mind. She felt a spark of hope. But when Collins walked in she could see that they hadn’t.

The policeman looked tired. His face was seamed and grey.

The chair creaked as he lowered himself into it. The sergeant gave her a smile as he took the other chair, but his heart didn’t seem in it. A smell of cigarette smoke came into the room with them.

“Did you get my messages?” Kate asked.

Collins nodded. He was about to say something, but Kate couldn’t wait any longer to tell him her news.

“He was here,” she exclaimed. “Yesterday afternoon.”

Collins came alert. “Ellis? You’ve seen him?”

“No, but someone else did. I only found out last night, that’s why I called you.”

“What time was this?”

“I think it was about four o’clock. Ellis was standing in a doorway across the road.”

“Who saw him?”

“Paul Sutherland. He’s the one who was picked up for the breakin. He phoned last night and... What’s the matter?”

They were both staring at her. The sergeant had frozen in the act of writing his notes. Kate saw him glance at the Inspector.

“What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

The sergeant dropped his gaze back to his notebook. Collins spoke gently.

“Paul Sutherland was killed last night.”

Kate felt herself blown back to another time, being told by the same two men of another death.

“Someone set fire to his house,” the Inspector said. “They poured petrol through the letter-box and then lobbed petrol bombs through the upstairs and downstairs windows.”

“Someone,” she echoed. She could hear Paul’s voice, quite clearly. He saw me and gave me this look... He was still staring at me when I left.

Collins rubbed his eyes. His skin wrinkled up like old leather where his fingers pushed it. “We haven’t got a definite ID. But some neighbours heard the glass going and saw a man standing in the street outside the house. They called the fire brigade and then went out, and the man was still standing there. They say he was just watching. He only ran off when they shouted. They didn’t give a very good description but...”

Kate closed her eyes. She saw flames, smelt petrol.

“You say you spoke to Paul Sutherland,” Collins said. “Can you remember what time?”

“I don’t know... not late. Eight o’clock, perhaps.”

“This was just after three. But I only found out an hour ago myself. Otherwise I’d have let you know sooner. There’s supposed to be communication but you wouldn’t know it, half the time.” He sounded apologetic.

Her stomach lurched as a thought struck her. “Oh, God, you want me to identify him, don’t you?”

Collins was startled. “Good God, no! No, that’s already been done. I just came to tell you, that’s all.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I don’t want to upset you needlessly but... well, it might not be a bad thing if there’s someone you can stay with. Just for a few days.” He seemed to find it difficult to look at her.

“You think he was planning to do something to me, don’t you?” she said. “Then he saw Paul and followed him home and set fire to his house instead.”

“Not necessarily. I just think you might be better off somewhere else, that’s all. But we’ll still keep a close watch on your flat and here, regardless.” He gave an unconvincing smile as he stood up. “Don’t worry. We won’t let him get to you.”

Caroline and Josefina were clearly surprised when she closed the agency soon after the two policemen had left, but Kate didn’t offer any explanation. She took a taxi home rather than face the Underground. The streets that had been sunny that morning were now grey with the coming dusk. They hit a traffic jam, and Kate watched the meter ticking away as they sat among the fumes and car horns, and wondered if she had enough cash for the fare. Part of her hoped she hadn’t.