“Do you think it’s safe to turn the lights on?” he asked eventually.
While he had been talking, Adrian must have moved over to the light switch, because the room was suddenly flooded with light. By the starkness of the naked bulbs, they could see the extent of the damage. Not too much, from what Leonard could tell. Fortunately, they hadn’t started decorating yet, so whatever smoke damage had happened could be disguised with fresh plaster and paint. He noticed Adrian studying the front window, pointing to the jagged hole in a large pane of glass.
“This was no accident, Lenny. I’ll bet odds this was a petrol bomb. You want me to see if I can catch whoever did this? They can’t be long gone. I will, if you say the word.”
“Christ, no. Absolutely not, Ade. If they’re capable of this, then what else are they capable of? I don’t want to put you in any more danger.”
“Fine, but this time we get the police involved, yeah?” said Adrian, heading towards the front door, and turning in the doorway to address Leonard. “This is why we always shift all fixtures from the property as soon as possible when we’re renovating. Imagine if we’d piled all those old wooden kitchen units up by the window. This place would have gone up like a tinderbox. Hold up, I think I can hear them approaching. Let me go out to the lane and let them know it’s been contained.”
When Leonard listened, he could hear the faint sound of a siren in the distance. Adrian wanted to be of help, so Lenny let him go. Instinctively, he checked the time on his phone—4:55 a.m. Alone with his thoughts, he looked around the room. Last night he’d barely had the chance to view the renovations, but now he acknowledged the great job they’d done, his enthusiasm tempered in the aftermath of the fire. All walls had been plastered and levelled, all floorboards either sanded down or replaced, ready for a coat of varnish, even the power sockets and light switches Leonard had chosen were installed downstairs. Adrian and Toni had worked hard and the place, when finished, would look amazing. And now somebody seemed intent on undoing everything they had done.
Why on earth would somebody want to burn the place to the ground? Did this have something to do with Luke’s dysfunctional family? Adrian was right, though. Maybe Leonard did not see the need to tell the police about the intruder, but this little stunt could not—wouldnot—go unreported. Tomorrow he would call the home security company he used—Kennedy’s outfit, Grey Steel Global—and get them to install the best they had, front and back. No expense spared and no more pussyfooting around. What if this had happened with Adrian and Toni alone in the house? Had they been injured or worse, he would never have forgiven himself.
Within twenty minutes the room filled with firefighters and a couple of police officers. As best he could, Leonard stayed out of the way and let Adrian do the talking, while he made hot drinks for everyone. Fortunately, somebody—Toni, maybe—had brought a large pack of paper cups, so all Leonard needed to do was boil water and spoon coffee or dunk in tea bags. No doubt, at some point, one of the policemen would want to speak to him, but for now he enjoyed seeing Adrian in action. Both police and firefighters had singled him out because he had been in the house for the whole week and also because he’d had the foresight and good sense to have a class two, dry powder fire extinguisher on-site with him. One of the firemen also pointed out the plastic sheeting on the floor, which was coated with a flame retardant.
As expected, one of the policemen, the younger one, came over to take down Leonard’s contact information and other details. Leonard thought he might ask questions about the incident. Eventually the older of the two, who had been busy looking over the grounds and the rest of the house, moved over to talk to Leonard and allowed the younger man to continue his work. Sensibly, they had divided up their tasks. Much older than his counterpart, this policeman reminded Leonard of the jovial-looking village policeman depicted in early British films.
“You’re the new owner, Mr Day. Is that right?”
“Correct.”
“I’m PC Morgan. Charlie Morgan. I saw you in the pub only last night. I was having a pint with Dave Llewellyn, landlord of the Manor Inn, and our friends. Megan says you’re the late Colin Day’s son.”
“You knew my father?”
“No, son,” said PC Morgan, chuckling. “I’m only fifty-eight. But some of our older residents remember him coming to Disserth, and I’ve known some of your other family members. Why don’t you give me your account of what happened here tonight.”
Leonard pulled out a couple of the folded chairs and invited him to sit. PC Charlie Morgan turned out to be a good listener, nodding and asking pertinent questions. In between, he talked about himself over his cup of tea, as though they were old friends.
“Fifty-eight and still with the Dyfed–Powys Police. Should have got pensioned off years ago, what with all the cuts in forcing, but they managed to keep me hanging on. Not sure if I’m pleased or pissed about that.”
Partway through being interviewed, the firefighters, the other policeman and Adrian came to join them in the very basic, very empty kitchen. Everything appeared to have been wrapped up and they decided to enjoy a bit of respite together. Someone even brought over the yard broom they’d used to clean up the debris. Leonard happily dished out more teas and coffees, found a packet of digestive biscuits in a plastic tub, and placed everything on the small square table. Amused, he realised this would constitute the first gathering he had ever had in the house.
“So what do you think happened here?” asked Leonard as they made appreciative noises about the beverages. Behind their heads, outside the plastic sheeting, Leonard noticed the sky becoming paler.
“From what we can tell,” said the older of the firemen, “the fire was started by a very crude Molly—Molotov cocktail—a petrol bomb. They used a clear glass bottle with a plastic stopper, filled with petrol and traces of engine oil. The bottle smashed on impact but the stopper and bottle top are still intact. Good job you don’t have curtains or furniture in the house, otherwise there could have been more serious damage.”
“I only ever employ the best builders,” said Leonard, winking at Adrian, who smiled back. “Who assure me that a clean site is a safe site.”
“Quite right too,” said the fireman, then to Adrian, “I hope he’s paying you well.”
“He’s very generous,” said Adrian, winking at Leonard.
“Well, we’re done here,” said the man clearly in charge. “Charlie, we’ll have a proper report on your desk by Monday, if that’s okay. You coming with us?”
“No, you go on, lads. I’ve got a couple more questions for Mr Day and Mr Lamperton. Bobby, go and move the car, will you? Give the lads room to back the fire engine out of the lane.”
Eventually, the firemen and the younger policeman filed out of the house and closed the front door behind them. Once they had gone, Adrian unfolded a collapsible wooden chair and joined them.
“Very nice brew this, Mr Day.”
“Leonard. Please call me Leonard. And this is Adrian.”
“Leonard and Adrian, it is. So you and Adrian know each other professionally?”
Leonard caught Adrian’s anxious gaze.
“We do. But we’re also old friends.”
