‘Yeah, apparently I’m under car arrest. What’ve you got?’
‘Err…not sure what that is but wanted to confirm that the family has absolutely no financial problems, and that the medical records show that Helen has been on medication for depression and anxiety for many years.’
Kim made a signal with her hand for Bryant to start the car and get rolling, before continuing her conversation with Stacey.
‘From what the neighbours said, she had some kind of breakdown twenty years ago. Possibly linked to the loss of a child. The anniversary of that event is next week.’
Rachel’s words were still in the back of her mind. Yes, it was a traumatic event to face, but she’d faced it nineteen other times without shooting her family.
‘Do the records detail her mental-health issues?’ Kim asked.
‘Not so much. Her surgery was a one-man practice until seventeen years ago. Not a lot of detail prior to that except for prescription register, but the loss of the child wasn’t the cause of her problems. Her first prescription for antidepressants was in ’93.’
‘Thanks, Stace. Now get off home,’ Kim said, ending the call.
Helen had been struggling with her mental health for twenty-nine years.
So what the hell had caused the problem in the first place?
TWENTY
The house in Pedmore was still alive with activity, and Kim struggled to believe it had been only twenty-four hours since their first visit.
The emergency service vehicles had gone, but squad cars and forensic vehicles remained. A small Nissan on the far side of the drive told her that Nigel Adams, Fire Investigator, was still in attendance.
‘What’s the plan, guv?’ Bryant asked.
‘Talk to Nigel and then do a walk through,’ she said, entering the house and turning left, away from the stairs.
Two rooms later, she reached the kitchen and was completely underwhelmed.
‘That was the fire?’ Kim asked, making Nigel jump out of his skin.
‘Evening, Inspector. And yes, it was hardly the towering inferno.’
The fire appears to have originated from the kitchen bin directly beneath a small window that was open.
‘I’m assuming the bin didn’t catch fire by itself?’
‘You assume correctly. No accelerant, no fuel, just a good old lighter.’
She moved closer and peered into the bin. ‘Books?’
‘Looks like journals or diaries to me. Fire didn’t destroy them as much as the zealousness of the fire service I should imagine.’
‘Bryant, get a techie to bag them up,’ Kim instructed. She knew Ridgepoint had different methods for preserving paper evidence. Sometimes they air dried it, other times they freeze dried it depending on the level of damage. It would be useful if they could find out if there was something Helen had been trying to hide.
Kim held out her hand towards Bryant. Their years together told him she wanted a pen.
She used his biro to move the pile of books just over to the side.
‘This isn’t burned,’ she said, moving around a paper bag with a fast-food logo on it. It was wet but not even singed.
Nigel stepped towards her. ‘Fire didn’t burn that long. Beneath the books were the leftovers of some kind of tomato and pasta dish. It was wet so the fire couldn’t spread further down the bin. The plastic coating on some of the books prevented it from properly taking hold. Could have been a lot worse.’
‘How long would the fire have burned?’ Kim asked.
‘No more than fifteen minutes – smouldered for another five or ten at most.’