Falling More Slowly (28 page)

Like a biblical column of fire a gas-blue flame rose from the centre of the driver’s seat, reaching up to the roof with a fierce hiss. Seconds later flames and smoke spread out and began to engulf the entire interior. Now all she could see was a dull red glow at the centre of the blackness, filling the car like an evil eye. Incredulous and transfixed by the spectacle, she forced herself to move backwards away from the car, just as the first window blew out.

The further the interview had progressed the clearer it had become that John Kerswill simply didn’t fit the bill. He was far too busy reclaiming his lost boyhood to litter the city with explosives. McLusky hadn’t had much time or
inclination to think about the effect the bombs were having on the rest of the city. In sharp contrast Superintendent Denkhaus, in whose office he found himself after releasing Kerswill, had been only too aware, having had to field urgent questions from the press, business leaders and the Assistant Chief Constable.

‘It’s the randomness of the attacks, McLusky, that scares people. I’m told hotel and B&B bookings are down by forty per cent. Businesses are hurting. Even if we apprehended the culprit today the damage is already done, people are going elsewhere. And it’s not just the tourist industry that’s suffering, I mean some people have taken their kids out of school.’ Denkhaus stood and turned his back on McLusky while he took in the panoramic view his large window afforded him. Policing had ramifications well beyond crime prevention and detection: it influenced economics and politics and was in turn influenced by politics and dictated to by economics. It was as well if young DIs understood that. He was under constant pressure, not just from the ACC but from the mayor’s office and representatives of the business community. ‘Our citizens don’t feel safe any more, small retailers report a drop in sales. Pubs and clubs get fewer people through their doors. People shop at the supermarkets and spend more time indoors. More worrying still, two major conferences have been moved to other cities and the organizers of the half-marathon are thinking of postponing until the autumn, and the kite festival was nearly cancelled.’

‘Kite festival nearly cancelled?’

Denkhaus turned to face the young DI. He couldn’t remember, did he have children? Not that it mattered. ‘Yes, so you see how far-reaching and unexpected the consequences of these attacks are. It simply can’t be allowed to continue. A valuable yacht was destroyed in this latest outrage. People will seek mooring for their expensive boats elsewhere. If that happens then the plans for the harbourside development could be jeopardized. The development
depends entirely on investors having complete confidence that our city is the right place to be.’ Denkhaus quoted almost verbatim from the tirade he had endured from the ACC earlier that day.

McLusky nodded distractedly. ‘Indeed, sir.’ Kite festival, now why did that ring a bell? The bell it rang had an uncomfortable sound. It conjured up a nagging, like a thing he’d forgotten to do, like an unposted letter. He would look in his notes …

‘I presume DI Fairfield’s success didn’t escape your notice? We finally got the Mobile Muggers off the streets …’

‘Quite literally, too.’

‘Yes, quite.’ Denkhaus allowed himself a smile. ‘It was pure good fortune that DS Sorbie happened to be there on his day off. And he reacted professionally and bravely. Even saved the life of one of them. Jumped after him into the river and dragged him to safety. The other one either drowned or got away. And practically at the same time Fairfield got an anonymous tip-off and was able to catch Mitchell, a notorious fence, red-handed as he was bringing the rest of the gang to his lock-up. We were there ready and waiting. Intelligence-led policing, McLusky. The man was actually running the gang, even supplying them with the scooters. So you can see, persistence and hard work pay off. It certainly didn’t do Fairfield and Sorbie’s clear-up rates any harm. You on the other hand appear to be –’ There was a loud knock. ‘Yes, what is it?’

Lynn Tiery appeared in the door, frowning at a piece of paper in her hand. ‘Sorry to interrupt. There’s an urgent message for DI McLusky, concerning his car.’

Denkhaus insisted on driving them there, despite McLusky’s protests. The superintendent’s lecture continued on the tortuous drive across town but drifted at last into reminiscences, how he himself had risen through the ranks, starting as a beat officer in a small West Country town, grasping every opportunity, applying himself, not
bucking the system. And here he was, ambitions fulfilled. He had no desire to rise any higher, not wanting to lose touch with real, frontline policing.

The street was blocked with police, fire engines and a fire investigator’s car. They abandoned the Land Rover in the middle of the road and walked up without speaking. Accident, vandalism or the bomber, all depended on the verdict of the fire investigators.

They showed their IDs and approached what was left of the Polo, a blackened evil-smelling shell. A sulking Rebecca was there, being shadowed by a PC. She pounced on McLusky. ‘You took your time getting here, they’re treating me as though
I
set fire to the damn thing. It just caught fire, I swear, I just slammed the door and whoosh, up it went. I was just looking for my camera.’

McLusky calmed her down and sent the PC on her way. Almost immediately a fire investigator confirmed their suspicions. ‘A small device wired into the springs of the driver’s seat. Nasty. Had you sat in it you’d have been in trouble. There was no explosion, it was an incendiary device, probably a mixture of accelerant like petrol, some flammable adhesive perhaps, magnesium, some kind of trigger.’

‘Shit, I nearly sat in it! Ouch!’ Rebecca’s hand made an involuntary move to her behind.

Ignoring her, Denkhaus raised an impatient eyebrow at McLusky. ‘Who’s the young lady? How did she come to search your car?’

‘Ehm, she’s staying at my –’

‘I’m his girlfriend.’ Was his girlfriend. Definitely was. He had the same problem she did, obviously, he had practically disowned her there and then. ‘And the coach to the airport goes in less than an hour from college. Can I go now?’

Denkhaus turned away to talk to the leading fire officer about the safe removal of the car.

‘I gotta go, Liam. Oh, here, nearly forgot.’ She pulled the letter from her pocket. ‘Sorry, bit crumpled. Found it on the driver’s seat.’

Same typeface, same envelope. McLusky folded it nonchalantly into a jacket pocket. ‘When are you back?’

‘Seven days.’ It was only five but she gave herself a couple of days in hand, time to think, make a final decision. ‘Can’t remember what time the plane lands, I’ll call your mobile.’ She kissed him hard on the mouth but disengaged herself almost immediately. ‘Don’t want to embarrass you any further. Really gotta go now.
Buenos dias
.’

‘
Ciao bella
.’ Or was that Italian? He’d never been much good at languages. He watched Rebecca walk away. She was a kid, really, and she could have been seriously hurt. He would never have forgiven himself. As she reached the street corner he got ready to wave if she looked back but Rebecca walked on without turning.

He slid the letter open and read.
Perhaps This will Shut
you Up. I have Warned You. Now I will employ My Armies
everywhere. Homes and Churches will be safe but Silence will
settle on the Parks and Streets of this City
. This one he couldn’t possibly keep to himself. ‘Superintendent? Rebecca found this in the car before it went up.’

Denkhaus read. ‘I wonder if he intended you to read this before or after you were incinerated. I’m sorry this investigation has got a bit close to home for you. The man knows where you live, what car you drive. All, no doubt, a result of you talking to Phil Warren. You weren’t all that hard to find once the bomber knew your name. Is there somewhere else you can stay until he is apprehended?’

‘I’ll have a think.’

‘Think fast, McLusky, this guy wants to hurt you.’ He returned his attention to the letter. ‘Mm …
I have warned
you
, what does that mean, I wonder. We hardly need any more warning.’

‘I think what’s significant about the letter is the mention of parks.’

‘He exploded his first device in Brandon Hill …’

‘I think he’s going to target parks again. This kite festival, where is that held?’

‘That’s at Ashton Court.’

‘Well, I think it should be cancelled.’

‘Bit late for that, McLusky, it’s today.’ He checked his watch. ‘Started an hour ago. Do you have any particular reason for thinking the festival could be a target?’

McLusky hesitated. If only he knew why the words ‘kite festival’ reverberated in his mind. ‘No, just … a feeling. The place will be full of children, sir, they’ll pick up anything, no matter what they’ve been told. It’s a golden opportunity for the bomber to spread panic.’

‘And you think on the strength of your …
feeling
I should order the festival interrupted? Send everyone home and have the whole bloody park searched?’

McLusky held the superintendent’s critical stare for a few seconds before answering. ‘Yes. Yes, I do, sir.’

‘I thought you might say that.’ Denkhaus was already walking away shouting instructions at uniformed police. ‘Constable! Get yourself across to Ashton Court at the double, it needs to be evacuated. You may be the first there but back-up won’t be long.’ The constable made a tentative move towards his car, then stopped and opened his mouth to ask how on earth he was going to evacuate a huge place like Ashton Court but Denkhaus cut across him. ‘Use your initiative, go.’ In his car he gave orders over his airwave radio for several units to converge on the park and to use loudhailers to clear the area. ‘Don’t create a panic, I want an orderly evacuation.’ He turned to McLusky. ‘Let’s go and watch your drama unfold, shall we?’

By the time Denkhaus had threaded the Land Rover through the traffic, across the river and into Ashton Court a thin stream of people were moving towards car parks and the nearest exit. Many were adults with children. Practically all carried one or more kites, large box kites, Chinese dragons, kimono girls, birds, stunt kites. The
bright colours of kites and children’s clothing were enhanced by rays of sunshine piercing the grey, threatening cloud that had rolled in again from the west. Many more people were still on the slope where the main event took place, packing up. There were refreshment marquees and trading stands selling everything from kites to crystals. A patrol car drove slowly up the gently curving lane beside the hill using a public address system, telling people to leave the park by the nearest entrance, not to run, not to pick up anything that did not belong to them.

They stood by the Land Rover and watched. McLusky was shocked at the extent of it. ‘I had no idea it was that big.’

‘Spring kite festival. People come from all over the country to show off with stunt kites and what have you. It’s a big deal.’

‘I thought it was just a couple of hundred kids flying their kites. There must be a thousand people here.’ He took out his mobile and started recording the panoramic scene of exodus from the festival site.

‘We usually get two-and-a-half thousand visitors, perhaps fewer this year thanks to our little problem.’

McLusky saw the plume of smoke and the man falling a second before the crack of the explosion reached his ears, like the blast from a large-bore shotgun. People started to converge on the spot halfway up the slope, others hurried their children away. Some waved kites and clothing in the air to attract the attention of the paramedics parked on the road. They didn’t need telling. Having heard the noise they had started their engine and were now already driving on to the grass.

Denkhaus fixed him with an evil stare. ‘McLusky, I hate intuition and hunches and especially hunches that come too late to be of any bloody use. I want to know how you knew!’

McLusky’s mobile told him he had reached the limit of his recording facility. He pocketed it. ‘I didn’t know
anything, sir. I don’t even know where I heard about the kite festival before, on the radio perhaps.’ They made their way up the slope, walking fast, following the tracks the ambulance made on the grass. ‘I think we can expect many more devices to go off. He says in his letter something like … can I have it again, sir?’

Denkhaus stopped, glad to catch his breath for a moment, and handed him the note, now protected by a clear evidence bag.

‘Here.
Now I will employ my armies.
The devices are his soldiers. I think he has a suitcase full of the damn things and he’ll probably dot them all around the city in one go, if he hasn’t already done it. From then on all he has to do is stay at home and watch it all on telly.’

‘Bloody hell.’ Denkhaus took the letter back and stared at it with disgust for a few seconds, then put it away. ‘I know what you’re saying, but you might be wrong there.’

‘How so?’

‘You got us here, didn’t you? You were just not quick enough and you haven’t got a clue why you brought us here. You’re unmethodical, McLusky, that’s your problem. Get yourself organized!’

They had arrived at the site of the explosion. Curious onlookers had formed a tight circle around the paramedics who were tending to a middle-aged man sitting on the grass, a woman and young boy kneeling by his side. Denkhaus waved his ID and bellowed at the civilians. ‘Make your way to the nearest exit unless you’re close relatives of the victim. Get going, this emergency isn’t over. Walk, don’t run, and for God’s sake don’t pick anything up, not even if you find the crown jewels.’

The man doesn’t need a megaphone, McLusky thought. He squatted down by the victim, who drank shakily from a water bottle. ‘How are you feeling, sir? What happened?’

‘I nudged it. It was just back there.’ He nodded his head at the hill behind him.

‘What was?’

‘It was a box of biscuits. I hadn’t seen it before but I thought it might be ours. I had my hands full so I nudged it with the folding chair I was carrying. To see if it was full or empty. It knocked me back off my feet. Completely winded me. Thank God my wife and son had gone ahead.’ The man’s face and hands were peppered with angry red spots where debris from the device had hit him. ‘I mean, I know we were told not to pick anything up but it was instinctive, you know?’