Page 3 of Murder in Shades of Fire and Ash

DC Josh Unwin, known as by his surname since school, thanks to there having been four Joshes in his class, was both Patsy’s boyfriend and one of Clwyd police’s computer nerds. He was based at HQ in Wrexham with Will Wayward, who had briefly worked from Llanfair whilst Charlie had been away.

“You only just caught me. I’m taking the afternoon off, starting five minutes ago. Anyway, you should be talking to Will,” Unwin said, “only you can’t right now. He’s done all the modelling, and he’s just explaining it all to the executive. According to him there’s no more than half a dozen home grown nutters, and they will most likely go to Liverpool or Manchester if they feel like a riot. But all the local politicians are behaving as if the barbarians are hammering on the gate with sharpened swords.”

Charlie laughed, probably for the first time that day. “It’s not funny really,” he said. “HQ has pinched my specials, and I’ve got a town full of people who’ve been drinking all day. Closing time is going to be a big pile of no fun. So much no fun that Eddy and I are going to be holding the thin blue line, along with your beloved.”

“Detectives doing public order work? Whatever is the world coming to?”

Unwin laughed, as Charlie growled and ended the call. He still didn’t go home, choosing instead to nap in the break room. It was neither comfortable nor cool. The row with Tom swirled around the inside of his head, keeping him awake. He thought about how much he had enjoyed Tom’s twin daughters coming to visit in the past, and how much he wasn’t enjoying them now. They were staying for the whole summer, and it seemed as though the summer would never end. And how even thinking about it made him cross, because what sort of a person doesn’t like his partner’s kids?

Tom’s twin daughters,Amelie and Ziggy, had been to stay before, but never for more than a day or two. They’d generally had fun together, the girls demanding Charlie tell them stories of police work.

“So much better than hearing about some dull meeting at the art college,” Amelie (or was it Ziggy?) said.

“Or about Mum’s telephone call with her publisher, because, hello, not exciting,” said Ziggy (or possibly Amelie).

Charlie never shared any of the potentially upsetting aspects of his job, so Amelie and Ziggy treated him as some kind of real-life Sherlock Holmes, or Poirot, solving mysterious cases with the power of his intellect. The reality of petty crime, repeat offenders battling addiction and abuse, pointless violence, andendless paperwork, did not have the excitement and romance they craved. This visit was different.

Firstly, it was for six weeks, because Orianna, one of the twins’ mothers, was teaching a prestigious summer school in London. Secondly, Tom hadn’t consulted him about them staying, and thirdly…well, thirdly, Charlie felt like he wasn’t needed in the exclusive dad-and-twins bubble. He’d bitten his tongue as Tom had excitedly arranged adventures, and again as he had cooked their favourite meals, refurbished the spare bedroom to their satisfaction, and generally focussed on his children to the exclusion of all else. Nor had Charlie said anything when he found that Tom had booked his entire years’ worth of vacation days to care for the girls in the school holidays, again without consultation. The detritus of two teenagers was engulfing their home in a tide of clothes, hair care products, make-up and charging cables. His own charging cables routinely disappeared, bathroom and washing machine were permanently unavailable and there was never any bread, milk or coffee. Sex had almost dried up. Kisses and cuddles with Tom were interrupted by gagging noises and calls to ‘get a room’. If only. Still, he had said nothing. Finding Billy the cat being fed smoked salmon and cream cheese by a giggling Ziggy changed that.

It was the smoked salmon and cream cheese for the sandwich he was planning to take to work. Admittedly, Ziggy had only given a small amount to the cat, but she had left the open packets on the untidy kitchen counter in the hot sun. Judging from the way the smoked salmon was curling at the edges, they had been there for some time.

“Ziggy,” Charlie said in exasperation.

She had turned to him, lost the giggles and said, “What?”

“The cat shouldn’t have dairy products, and you’re feeding him my lunch.”

“Oh,sorr-ee,” Ziggy snapped and left the room. Charlie tried not to listen to what she was mumbling under her breath, but it sounded suspiciously like “Dad wouldn’t make such a fuss.”

“Yes, he would,” Charlie called after her, but she slammed the kitchen door without replying.

He contemplated making her come back and tidy up, but decided life was too short, sighed and cleaned the counter so he could make his lunch. He put the crumbs in the bin, only to find it full of burned toast, and once again, there was no bread for sandwiches. Which is when Tom came into the kitchen and asked what Charlie had done to upset Ziggy.

The resulting row was not pretty. It was the first time they had argued over anything important or lost their tempers with each other. Even though they managed not to say anything unforgivable, Charlie felt as though his world was ending.

“We’remarried,” Charlie said. “We are supposed to be a team. You didn’t ask me before the girls came, and you took all your holidays without talking to me first. No trip away for us. You’ve decided the whole summer and to hell with anything I might want to do.”

“You can come with us when we go out,” Tom said.

“I’mworking,and when I get home you’ve already cooked and eaten. You spend all your time being a dad and there’s nothing left for being a husband. Which would be fine if you’d actuallyaskedme about it.”

There was more of the same, until Charlie heard Taylor Swift at ear-splitting volume coming through the ceiling. The argument had festered ever since, with Charlie staying out of the way as much as he could.

3

Saturday evening

Policing weekend night pub closing time in Llanfair usually involved parking a police car prominently at the junction of the two main roads and ensuring that the uniformed special constables were as visible as possible. The difference tonight was that in the absence of the specials, Charlie and Eddy donned yellow vests with police insignia, and along with Patsy, leaned on the car, parked in its usual place.

At ten o’clock, the sun had gone, but the heat remained, thickening the air. The streets were busy with people strolling from pub to pub, or from the few restaurants back to their homes. Women wore lightweight dresses; men, shorts and T-shirts. A few men were bare-chested, and sweating under his clothes, Charlie understood why. But there was no trouble. Loud voices and raucous laughter, yes. Music spilling out from the pubs. The acrid smell of cigarette smoke and the occasional scent of weed drifting towards the three of them. But no trouble.

Eleven o’clock came and went. The restaurants had all begun to shut up shop, leaving a couple of pubs and takeaways still open. Numbers on the streets had reduced, though the level of noisy inebriation had risen. Charlie and Eddy kept avisible presence along the street, taking regular strolls, greeting passers-by in Welsh and English. Still, there was no trouble.

Until suddenly and without warning, there was.

Charlie and Eddywere strolling along the street opposite the university campus, next to their favourite bakery, now sadly closed for the day, when they heard the police car siren blare. Panic flared in Charlie’s stomach. Patsy was on her own. He ran, and Eddy ran, too, faster, with the same look of panic on his face. As Charlie skidded round the corner, a wave of putrid smoke rolled towards him, he smelled petrol and saw flames spewing out onto the street.

“Patsy!” he shouted, and thankfully, there she was, unharmed but far too close to the flames.

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