Page 7 of Murder in Shades of Fire and Ash

“Help me find out what happened. It won’t bring him back, but …” He paused. “We need to tell his next of kin before someone finds out and posts it all over the socials. Do you know who that is?”

Patsy nodded, and pulled her mobile from her uniform shirt pocket. “His parents live in Pentrebach. It’s the first house you come to in the village if you drive from here. A big bungalow. White. Solar panels on the roof.” She scrolled through her contacts list and forwarded a number to him. His phone pinged and he readGerald and Tansy U, with a number.

“Thanks,” Charlie said.

But Patsy hadn’t finished. “There’s someone else who needs to know.” She paused. “Dylan. Unwin’s boyfriend.”

“Unwin’s boyfriend,” Charlie said stupidly, before he pulled himself together. If he was honest, he wasn’t completely surprised. More to the point, Patsy didn’t need to have to deal with Charlie’s reactions when she’d lost her partner.

Charlie looked at the time on his phone. Less than twenty minutes since he called Ravensbourne, and the drive from HQ would take at least another ten minutes. The total available police resource in Llanfair consisted of him and Eddy, and the town was beginning to wake up. No way was Patsy in any fit state to work, even if she wasn’t precluded from being involved in the investigation of her boyfriend’s death. They needed Jeff Britton’s statement, but above all, he needed to tell Unwin’s parents what had happened, and that meant finding some warm bodies to stop any of the looky-loos deciding to have a nosy around the burned shop. Not for the first time, Charlie wished it was possible to clone himself. They were going to have to wait forreinforcements, and just hope the Unwins kept off social media for the next hour.

“Tell me about this Dylan,” he said.

Patsy wiped her eyes with her fingers. “Me and Unwin are ENM — ethically non-monogamous. Both free to see other people as long as we’re open and honest. Unwin is bi, and he’s been seeing Dylan for a few months. He’s a nice guy, Dylan I mean.”

Charlie saw the moment Patsy remembered that Unwin was dead and watched her face crumple and the tears begin to flow again. He tightened his arms around her and let her cry. Because right now, some things were more important than the demands of his job.

6

Sunday morning

DI Freya Ravensbourne never drove herself. Today’s driver must be moonlighting from his day job in Formula One, because she arrived in Llanfair in record time. Charlie had never been so pleased to see his scruffy, cigarette-scented boss, especially as she was accompanied by three uniformed constables.

“We need to secure this building,” he said. “And there’s some racist graffiti on an alley wall by the Town Hall. It’s taped, but people have already taken pictures.”

Ravensbourne nodded and gestured at the three constables. They left immediately, and Charlie sighed with relief. Patsy disengaged herself from Charlie and sat up.

“Sorry, ma’am,” she said.

Ravensbourne patted Patsy’s shoulder, and it was a gentle pat, not the usual bruising blow. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “Unwin is going to be missed by a lot of people. Now let me talk to Charlie for a minute, and we’ll get you home.” She grabbed Charlie’s arm and pulled him away from Patsy, further into the yard.

“Tell me what’s what,” she said in a low voice, keeping her eyes on Patsy.

“The fire broke out late last night. Patsy, Eddy and I were keeping a visible presence in case of trouble, but we didn’t see the fire until it was well alight. No one we’ve talked to saw anything either. Then this morning, Patsy and I turned up and found the fire investigator was already there. He walked us through the building and up to the top floor which is we found Unwin’s body. I don’t know if the fire guy knew it was there, because he didn’t say anything about it until we got there. No need to tell me how weird that is, because I already know. I mean, if he’d been up the stairs before, he would have seen the body, so surely he would have said something.” Charlie shrugged, because he simply didn’t know what to make of Britton’s behaviour. “The only reason I didn’t call him out on it was that Patsy saw who the body was. Anyway, Eddy’s talking to him now.”

Ravensbourne nodded. “You did what you could.”

“It looks to me as if someone bashed Unwin on the head,” Charlie went on, “but that’s not my call. There’s lots of blood and it looks dry. I’ve got Unwin’s next of kin details and I want to get to them before the word gets out.”

“Good,” Ravensbourne said. “Anything else?”

“The shop used to be a takeaway, run by a Muslim family. They moved to a bigger place. There’s racist graffiti on a wall by the Town Hall. Eddy’s seen it. I haven’t. I don’t know if any of it’s connected.” Charlie took a breath. “Oh, and the local MP is offering any help we need.”

“That’s something I suppose,” Ravensbourne said. “But you’re right about Unwin’s family. Get going and I’ll wait for Hector Powell. Not to be crass, but we need the body moving asap in this heat.” She paused and her face fell into lines of unhappiness. “Unwin, though. Who would kill Unwin? Go. I’ll keep hold of Patsy.”

“Just before I do, Patsy said Unwin had another partner, Dylan. Maybe I should talk to him, too?”

Ravensbourne nodded. “You absolutely should. I’ll get the address and text you.”

“And Eddy is talking to the fire investigator,” Charlie said.

“What is my job, Charlie? How many reminders do you think I need?” Ravensbourne asked.

Charlie took the hint and left, walking back to the police station where he’d left his car. The air was warm and humid, and becoming decidedly soupy; soup flavoured with a hint of burnt ashes. The sky was already a hard blue, and the bright streets were striped with dark shadows. Charlie stuck to the shady side of the street, wishing he could go home for a shower. But he had a spare shirt in his car, and that, with some wet wipes and deodorant, would have to do. It was his very last shirt. Home was calling increasingly loudly.

The Unwin housewas exactly as Patsy had described it: a pristine white bungalow, with an array of solar panels on the roof. There was a large brick driveway, but Charlie left his car on the road, where a high hedge provided some shade. Nothing was going to make this easy, so he squared his shoulders, walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

There was some shouting from inside, along the lines of “If that’s the Jehovah’s Witnesses …” and “I’m going,” before the door opened to a man who could only be Unwin’s father. He had the same features, and when he said “Yes?” it was with the same inflexion in his voice.

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