Heatwave Oliver Davies (story reading .txt) 📖

After half an hour or so, Mickey was looking distinctly tired, and I began to round up the interview. Donna dabbed under her eyes, fixing her mascara, and saw us to the door when we finished.

“Let us know if he remembers anything else that could help us,” I asked her.

“Of course. Anything we can do, we want to help.”

“I hope Mickey heals up quickly,” I said, with a tight smile and a nod, and then Stephen and I headed out into the sunlight outside.

It wasn’t as bright as it’d been recently, but I definitely preferred the milder warmth compared to the baking heat, and I turned my face up to the sky briefly, breathing it in.

“That was helpful, right?” Stephen said once we were back in the car.

“Oh, aye. Now we’ve just got to nail the two jerks who’ve been causing all this mayhem.”

Jules and Alistair. Together they’d been spreading fear and hurt all summer, but I knew we were so close to catching them now. They’d gone too far with Mickey and I had every intention of making them pay for it.

Twenty-Three

Before we could go to search Alistair’s house, we needed to speak to Rashford. She listened attentively as I explained exactly what Mickey had told us and how I was certain that Alistair had played a big role in the events that had taken place, even though he hadn’t been there in person.

“With the teenager’s statement and the neighbour and teacher’s word, you’ve got my go-ahead,” she said with a nod.

“Great, thanks, ma’am,” I said, relieved. “And, if Alistair’s there, we can bring him in?”

“Absolutely, as long as you’ve got the evidence to hold him. I’ll give Adel Beck a call to see if they’ve got space for another juvenile. Alistair is under fifteen, correct?”

“He’s fourteen, yes ma’am.”

Adel Beck was a secure children’s home for young offenders under the age of fifteen, and where Alistair would be held if he was deemed a risk to the public. I strongly believed that he was. If we could get hold of Jules and prove his role in the crimes committed this summer, he would go to a young offender’s institute since he was seventeen.

After that, it was a matter of getting an extra couple of officers together to accompany us since I didn’t trust Alistair not to have something nasty up his sleeve. He and Jules had been one step ahead of the police since April, but no longer.

“His parents are gonna be crushed,” Stephen said as we were driving over.

“Aye, but they could’ve gotten their kid some help when he started burning holes in the lawn, in my opinion.”

“They probably didn’t recognise the seriousness of it. It’s hard to know when you’re a parent, whether you’re justifiably worried or overreacting.”

“You’re probably right,” I said.

Privately, I thought that Alistair’s parents were in some denial about their child’s personality. If they’d recognised the signs of Alistair’s behaviour earlier, it would’ve been better for everyone. That wasn’t to say that I blamed them because I didn’t. At the end of the day, a parent could do everything right and still have a child who turns out vastly different to how anyone expected.

The two police cars, us included, turned up outside Alistair’s house. It was no doubt overkill for a fourteen-year-old, but I wasn’t falling into the trap of underestimating Alistair because of his age. Stephen and I led the way up to the front door, and I knocked hard on the wood.

Alistair’s mum was blatantly shocked to see us standing there on our porch, stumbling backwards with a hand on her chest.

“Can I help you?” she asked shakily.

“We’re here for your son and to search the house,” I told her, gently but firmly. “Please step aside.”

She inched backwards with a dazed, horrified look on her face, and I led the way into the hall.

“Where is Alistair?” I asked her.

She pointed weakly up the stairs, and I led the way. A small part of my mind felt bad for tracking muck up across the upstairs carpet, and I had the sudden image of one of Alistair’s parents having to hoover it up after we’d left, taking their son with us. But I pushed the thoughts away. I could feel sympathy for Alistair’s parents whilst at the same time being absolutely certain that we were doing the right thing to ensure the safety of the community.

Alistair’s bedroom turned out to be at the end of the hall after we’d pushed open two others first. Stephen and I hesitated in front of it before I gave a nod and pushed it open. I’d worried briefly about Alistair having set up some kind of awful trap or set a fire to ignite when we entered, but none of that happened.

Alistair sat cross-legged on the bed, looking straight at us. He had his laptop balanced between his knees and his headphones around his neck. He looked completely unconcerned and unworried to see two police officers come into his room, with two others behind us. Stephen took the lead, taking handcuffs from his belt and moving forwards.

“Alistair Pumphrey, we’re arresting you on suspicion of…”

I tuned the familiar words out as I moved further into the small bedroom, painted a dark blue that made the space seem oppressive. There was a lingering smell of smoke despite the open window, and it made me feel slightly ill. No doubt, the smoke had worked its way into the fabric of his clothes after all the fires he’d set over the years, with the persistent smell hard to wash out.

Stephen escorted the silent, glaring teenager out of the room while I began to search for anything incriminating. One of the back-up officers scooped Alistair’s laptop up with a pair of gloves and put it in an evidence bag for Keira to have a look at back at the station.

Alistair’s room was fairly neat all in all, though there were plenty of possessions compacted into