Michael Denham has arrived. He’s arguing with a young fireman and gesturing at the building. Tyler points him out to Enfield, and something about the action must alert Denham to their presence. He sees them, falters slightly, and then straightens. Enfield nods to his colleague, and Denham is waved through the cordon.

“Detective Sergeant Tyler. I would’ve thought you had more important things to do.”

Paul Enfield answers for him. “An arson attack isn’t exactly a minor misdemeanor, Mr. Denham.”

Denham snorts. “Probably just students. Too much to drink.”

Perhaps it’s the reference to alcohol, but Tyler is suddenly irritated. “If you don’t mind me saying so, Michael, you don’t seem very upset for someone whose office has just gone up in smoke.”

“The insurance will cover it. The damage seems largely superficial.”

“Someone out there seems to have a grudge against you.”

“I’m sure there’s plenty, Detective, but if you think I’m handing you a list of my clients, satisfied or otherwise, you’re very much mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to make some phone calls.” He uses his briefcase to cut a path between them. They watch him for a moment, standing alone in front of his building, talking loudly into his mobile.

“Maybe this isn’t connected to the others,” Enfield says.

Michael Denham’s eyes dart quickly in their direction and then away again.

“No,” Tyler says, “there was nothing random about this.” He turns back to the fire officer, holds out his hand. “Thanks for including me.”

Enfield takes his hand but makes no attempt to shake it. “You okay?” he asks.

Tyler winces at being found out. “I’ll be fine. Just a few too many last night, that’s all.” But he never gets hangovers like this. How much did he drink?

“Be careful,” Enfield says. “This arsonist, he thinks he knows what he’s doing, but this is getting out of hand. He’s obsessive, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a sexual element to this as well. If you find out something, please, talk to me. I can help.” Enfield stares at him for a moment as though to cement his point, then he lets go of Tyler’s hand and walks away.

Tyler heads back to his flat, the thin purple light of dawn mushrooming over the city. He doesn’t even get halfway before his mobile rings.

—