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A chorus of wails that even Callum and Nigel can hear echoes throughout the room, and the floor shakes. That tells me just how strong their collective grief is—it’s given them the strength to manifest their voices to some extent.

“I swear, I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” Nigel cries. “Reggie told me the place would be empty. I even waited an hour after closing, but there was no sign of any activity.”

“But why even start the fire in the first place?” Callum asks. “What did Reggie want?”

We already have a pretty clear notion about that but we need Nigel to confirm it.

Nigel covers his face with his hands again. “The money.”

“What money?” Callum presses.

“The insurance money. Reggie told me it was the only way we could get ourselves out of debt and start over. I was a stupid kid. I believed him, and he told me I owed it to him to help when he asked me.” He buries his face in his hands. “He’d taken me in when no one else would, and he was all I had. I thought he might abandon me if I said no.”

I shake my head sadly. Nigel’s not a bad guy. He was a vulnerable kid who got exploited by the adult who should have been protecting him.

“I didn’t know anyone was inside until two people came running out the side door,” Nigel whispers, pain evident in his voice. “I didn’t think, I just ran inside, trying to find anyone I could. The last girl I helped out told me there were still people in the basement.”

“Gloria?” Callum confirms.

He nods. “She was Archie’s friend.”

“You knew some of the people who were in the basement?” I ask.

“Not well, except for Peter. I helped Reggie with some of the daytime tasks for the club, and Peter would sometimes come by if he needed to talk to my uncle about the business,” Nigel says, sniffling.

“Did you know that Peter used the basement with friends after hours?” Callum asks.

Nigel shakes his head. “No, no. I only found out… after. There was no way for me to know anyone was down there. The space didn’t have any windows.”

“What happened after Gloria told you more people were inside?” Callum asks.

Nigel starts to cry again, long, wracking sobs now. “The fire was getting out of control. It grew so much faster than I expected. I did try again though. We hadn’t renovated the upper floors of the building, and right after I went back inside, a big wooden beam from above came crashing down and blocked the door to the basement. I spent what felt like ages trying to move it out of the way, but it wouldn’t budge. The thing was massive.” His eyes become haunted. “I could hear people on the other side, crying out and trying to open the door. But they couldn’t, and I couldn’t help them either. Eventually, I could hardly breathe. The smoke was so thick and the heat was unreal.” He slumps forward in defeat. “I gave up and turned tail and ran. By then, the fire brigade was arriving. I got to them as fast as I could and told them there were still people trapped inside the basement, but the fire inside was raging out of control and they couldn’t attempt a rescue. Instead, they had to focus on containing the blaze so it didn’t spread to the other buildings nearby. They looked for another way to access the basement for ages, but there wasn’t one. There was no way to save those six people who were trapped.” He looks up, tears streaming down his face, complete and utter defeat written all over him. “I’ve kept this secret for so long. There isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not tormented by the memory and my guilt for the part I played in it all. I didn’t set out to kill anyone, but I’m just as responsible as my uncle was.”

“Did he know there were people in the basement that night?” Callum asks.

Nigel wipes at his face with his arm. “No, at least I don’t think so. When I left the scene and went running back home to tell him what had happened, he was genuinely shocked. Peter hadn’t told him he’d be using the basement that night, so I guess he assumed the club would be empty.”

I glance at Peter, who looks at me with a sad expression but doesn’t say anything.

“But you and Reggie never went to the police to tell them what had happened,” Callum says.

Nigel shakes his head miserably. “I wanted to. But once Uncle Reggie got over the shock, he turned downright scary. He told me to keep my bloody mouth shut or he’d have to kill me too. I believed him. He may have been my uncle, and I loved him, but when push came to shove, I knew he’d always prioritize saving his own skin over anyone else’s.”

“You were still a child,” I tell him. “Your uncle shouldn’t have put you in that situation to begin with.”

Nigel gives a bitter laugh. “No, he shouldn’t have. I know that now. But I still chose to help him, and that’s on me. I’ve spent most of my life trying to give back in every way I can to help those in need. I know it can never make up for what I did, but I couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”

“Do you know what happened between your uncle and the arson investigator?” Callum asks. “This is probably going to come out when they reopen the case.”

Nigel deflates even further. “They were mates from their schooldays. Uncle Reggie promised him half the money from the insurance payout if he deemed the cause of the fire an accident. He also got rid of any witness statements involving me.”

“Bloody hell,” Callum says.

“It was a tense few weeks, but once the investigation closed, things settled down for a while,” Nigel explains. “A month later, the insurance payout came through. Uncle Reggie paid off the arson inspector and used his half to pay off his debts, then moved us to Birmingham. We even changed our names because he wanted a fresh start, like erasing everything that happened.”

“And was it?” Callum asks. “A fresh start, I mean.”

“At first, yeah. I was in a bad place mentally, tried everything to forget what had happened. But a new life didn’t get rid of the guilt. And as for Uncle Reggie, it wasn’t long until he slipped back into his old habits. Now though, he didn’t have a constant stream of money coming in to gamble with, so he turned to alcohol instead. Before long, he couldn’t even hold down a job anymore. As soon as I finished my O-levels, I got the hell out of there. I couldn’t be around him anymore, watching him slowly drink himself to death, and also be reminded of the role we’d both played in the deaths of six people. I still haven’t gotten over that, but I’ve tried to atone in the years since.”