Out of the Ashes: A DI Maya Rahman novel. Vicky Newham

I’d only just briefed the media but I couldn’t help hoping we’d had news.

      ‘Nothing yet. And no matches on the MisPer register.’ I saw the concern on Dan’s face. ‘She could live alone or work away a lot? Sometimes it takes a while to realise someone’s missing.’

      ‘True. Another possibility is that she has dependents at home. This could help our chances of someone calling in or it could create additional risk factors.’ A terrible thought occurred to me. ‘If she’s got someone old or young at home, they might not be able to look after themselves. That bumps the need for her ID even higher up the order of priority.’ My brain was snatching at possible solutions. ‘What’s the situation with the facial profiler?’

      ‘She can’t make much progress because of the lack of detail on the photographs.’ Dan spoke quietly.

      ‘OK. Our other priority needs to be getting the bodies out of the building. That’ll be done the moment the building is deemed safe to enter. Then we can get better quality images, do a more specific media appeal, process DNA samples and search dental records.’ I approached the board and took in the woman’s wax-like features. It was impossible not to be reminded of my brother’s appearance after the fire that killed him, although our victim had more flesh intact than Sabbir’s charred bones. I swallowed down the dull thud of pain which the memory stirred, and took the cap off one of the marker pens to jot on the board.

       Victim 2 (UnSub)

      -Lives alone?

      -Homeless?

      -No family vs. dependents?

      -Asylum seeker?

      -MisPer?

      ‘Dan, I think you’ve got information on motives?’

      Dan zapped on the overhead projector and stepped in front of the team. The light on the board exaggerated his Irish colouring. ‘Let’s consider why might someone might want to set fire to the soup shop. The key arson motives are crime concealment, financial gain and boredom.’ His iPad projected each motive as a bullet point on the board.

      An angry mutter bobbed round the room at the mention of ‘boredom’.

      ‘We also need to consider extremism, jealousy and revenge. The intention is always criminal damage or endangering life, sometimes both.’ He faced us now. ‘With those in mind, what should our working hypotheses be?’

      ‘An insurance job by Indra?’ Alexej offered, looking up from his monitor. ‘I’m checking whether Simas and Indra had the building insured, and whether Simas had a life insurance policy.’

      ‘Yes,’ said Dan. ‘What else?’

      ‘Who might not have liked the soup shop being in Brick Lane?’ Alexej pointed at the street plans and photos. ‘We know ethnic groups stick together. There’s also an element of immigrant kinship and turf-orientation, but when it comes down to business, people’s loyalties are to themselves.’

      The atmosphere tightened.

      ‘Thanks, buddy,’ Dan said. ‘I agree. Other ideas?’

      ‘Maybe someone has their eye on the building?’ Shen had been listening to Alexej carefully. ‘A developer, perhaps?’ She had a small, delicate frame and her voice was quiet at first. ‘I often walk up Brick Lane to visit my brother. The shops change hands quickly and businesses move from one premises to another.’ She checked her notes. ‘The shop was gutted before the Brick Lane Soup Company opened. Perhaps the arsonist was targeting the freeholder rather than Simas Gudelis?’

      ‘Who is their freeholder? They’ll have the building insured.’ I tapped at the image of the shop on the board, as though encouraging it to speak to me.

      ‘Man called Solomon Stein. He owns a few freeholds in Brick Lane.’ Shen pointed to her notepad. ‘Seems legit but I’m doing a few more checks.’

      ‘It’s possible the arsonist was targeting the woman.’ Dan was typing the additional points into his list. ‘It’s difficult to assess until we know who she was.’ He was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘I want to know what bad blood exists between Indra and Simas, and between them and other people.’

      ‘If Indra knew Simas was having an affair, she might want revenge?’ Shen suggested. ‘Or perhaps we are looking for the partner of the woman in the fire?’

      ‘Yes, Indra has to be a suspect.’ I tucked my hair behind my ears, feeling the weight and scope of the task ahead. ‘If the woman’s partner is responsible, surely they’d have reported her missing so as not to arouse suspicion?’

      Dan was in front of the board again. ‘I agree with both those possibilities. My gut feeling is that we can rule out extremism, but I think we need to consider that it may have been a racist attack.’

      I gestured to the board. ‘OK, until we know what or who the targets of the arson were, we will need to consider all of these hypotheses. What else do we need to know?’

      ‘Was the flash mob a distraction so that the arsonists could start the fire?’ A familiar voice echoed through the room. ‘In other words, are we looking at organised crime?’

      ‘Jackie?’ I said, incredulous. ‘What are you doing here?’

Maya, 7.45 p.m.

      ‘Surely the grapevine hasn’t stopped working?’ Jackie chuckled as she cruised in confidently and surveyed the incident room.

      The team were transfixed.

      ‘Hello, everyone. I’m DCI Jackie Lawson. I’ll be covering your DCI post until a permanent appointment is made. If you’re nice to me, you might get stuck with me. I’m looking for a cushy number.’ She peered at me and grinned, and I couldn’t help noticing that a curiosity-induced pink filter had slid over Dan’s usual white face. ‘I’m not here to be SIO, Maya. Don’t worry.’

      ‘The last I heard you’d moved from the Met to the North-West,’ I said.

      ‘Correct. I’ve been leading a new team there as part of the Serious Organised Crime Strategy. Masses of it in the North-West, lots in the South-East. The hotspot is in London. I’m going to be based here at Limehouse, but my brief is to monitor all ongoing Met investigations for elements of organised crime.’

      The room was silent. All eyes were on the woman who was the epitome of smart-casual in her black jeans and white cotton shirt. It was clear she hadn’t gone soft. Jackie Lawson was known for her mischievous sense of humour and was one of the sharpest and toughest cops in the service. ‘It’s great to see you. I had no idea you were coming here.’ I’d only checked my email ten minutes earlier and there’d been no mention of Jackie joining the team. ‘We’ll catch up after briefing, yes?’ I faced the room again. ‘Dan, add DCI Lawson’s question to the board, please, and let’s continue. Who’s next?’

      ‘The analysts are working on a number of significant eyewitness statements,’ Shen said. ‘Their initial report is due any moment.’

      ‘And we’ve made a start on the CCTV,’ Alexej said. ‘The fire took hold so quickly, and produced so much smoke, it’s difficult to see much but if there’s anything useful, we’ll find it. I’m still calling security operators for footage from the hours prior to the flash mob and the fire.’

      ‘Good,’ I said. ‘That should help us with identifying timescales and routes, and hopefully suspects. Someone may have seen the arsonist entering the shop.’ I paused. ‘We need to check dog walkers, postmen, joggers, road sweepers, people going to work, people coming home from night shifts and nights out. A lot of those people may not live locally so we’ll need to ring-fence mobiles and send ping-outs on social media.’ I tried not to look too obviously at Jackie who’d need to agree budgets. ‘What’s the latest with LfA?’

      Alexej waved a print-out.