Peter Helton - Falling More Slowly

‘You in charge here?’

‘For the time being. I’m DI McLusky.’

‘I’m Barrett, senior fire officer.’ He stood next to McLusky and watched his officers deal swiftly and efficiently with the incident, looking after the victims, damping down what was left of the fire. ‘CID? You got here quickly. We usually get to incidents long before you lot. You’d send Uniform to scout first, surely?’

‘We were passing, heard the explosion. It was quite a bang. I’m no expert but I suspect it doesn’t take much to blow up a wooden shelter. Someone made very sure it would go up properly. We could feel the shockwave. Some people got blown over standing twenty yards away.’

‘My guess is some kind of accelerant was used, too. There was no warning?’ There was suspicion in the man’s voice. ‘You weren’t here because you got a call …?’

‘Nothing like that. My DS would have mentioned something if things were likely to go bang in this town.’ My DS . He indicated Austin who was locked in an argument with a tourist about relinquishing the memory card of his camera to him so they could examine the images on it. Camcorder man didn’t look happy. ‘I think I’d have been made aware of any bomb threats, even though it’s my first day here.’

‘I know.’

McLusky widened his eyes at him.

‘It might be your first day but you do keep busy, DI McLusky. You attended the Nunnery Lane incident earlier but then disappeared before I could talk to you. The house will have to be pulled down, by the way. Let us have your report on that as soon as you can. It’s certainly a weird one.’

‘Is it?’ McLusky didn’t think so. People used the weapons that came to hand. If they had sticks they’d use sticks, if you gave them guns they’d use guns. He thought he understood the appeal of a wheeled digger. He squinted with worry into the worsening rain. It would take some creative writing to show that he had made best use of the equipment by stuffing the Skoda under the digger.

‘You formed any opinions as to who and why yet, inspector? Terrorism? Here?’

‘Strange target for a terrorist. When did they take to blowing up park benches?’

‘What then, vandals?’

‘Don’t know yet. But I intend to find out.’

At last the ambulances arrived, fifteen minutes after Hanham had made the call, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Both the boy and the unconscious woman were stretchered off and driven away very soon with Blues and Twos. Those with minor injuries were being assessed by paramedics on the grass opposite the smouldering remains of the shelter. Most injuries came down to splinters and bruises where wooden debris had thumped into bodies. In the end only two more casualties, both suffering from shock, were sent up to the Royal Infirmary. The hyperventilating woman recovered enough to be collected by a relative in a taxi.

Austin arrived by McLusky’s side, holding several memory cards he had requisitioned from cameras and mobiles, and nodded at the large grey Ford coming to a halt behind the collection of emergency vehicles at the bottom of the hill. ‘Super’s here.’

The arrival of Superintendent Denkhaus electrified the constable guarding that end of the road. Denkhaus walked straight at him and at the police tape as though neither existed. The constable lifted the tape high over the man’s head and the burly policeman walked through without acknowledgement. He was aiming at him, McLusky noticed, but the superintendent’s face gave nothing away. After what Austin had said earlier he hoped the man wasn’t on a diet.

Denkhaus pointed a fleshy digit as he approached and stopped just short of poking his new DI in the chest with it. ‘DI McLusky, you had an appointment with me at nine o’clock this morning.’ His voice boomed loud enough for several uniforms to turn their heads.

‘I know, I’m sorry, sir, something urgent came up.’ He put on what he thought of as his reasonable face.

‘I heard all about it. You’d be surprised how quickly news of the complete annihilation of police property travels on this force. You chose to intervene in what was clearly not a CID matter even though you had business elsewhere. With me. Next time I ask you to my office, and I think that might happen very, very soon, you’ll make it a priority and will get there on time. Clear?’

‘Very clear, sir.’

‘I bloody well hope so. So what the fuck happened here?’

Inside the cramped Mercedes command unit parked in Charlotte Street Superintendent Denkhaus doled out tasks to the team in a practised stream, much of it devoid of punctuation. Then he slowed to add a few more thoughts. ‘Colin Keale, most of you will remember, planted three pipe bombs behind the Magistrates’ two years ago and got twelve months suspended because of his medical history. I sent Uniform round there to pick him up and see if he’s up to his old tricks again. In the absence of DCI Gaunt, DI McLusky, who most of you will have met by now, will be in charge of this investigation. That’s all.’ He looked around the familiar faces in the room, several of which allowed their surprise to show. Like DS Sorbie: sharp, smart and dark; DI Kat Fairfield: immaculate, eager and self-possessed. DS Sorbie was fiercely chewing his biro while watching DI Fairfield for a reaction to the news that the new man was in charge. Kat Fairfield was looking straight ahead, rigid with anger, avoiding all eye contact. ‘Carry on, then. DI McLusky? A word.’

McLusky followed his superior outside. Denkhaus pointed a fat finger straight at his chest, lightly tapping his tie. ‘It’s your investigation for several reasons. A, because you somehow managed to be first on the scene. B, because I like to shake things up and C, because it’ll give you a chance to jump in at the deep end. You won’t have to run after anybody, they’ll all come to you. You’ll not make many friends but then I’m not running a social club. And there’ll be a lot of questions, none of which you can answer since you only just got here. My theory is that by the end of it you’ll know the answers and feel right at home. Of course there’s always the possibility that you’ll completely louse it up in which case I’ll make your sojourn in the city a short one. You might not be in charge for long, of course. You know how it is, not that this looks much like a terrorist bomb, but anything goes bang and CAT will immediately want to take over. I’m expecting a visit from them soon and I want to be able to show them that we’re not a band of yokels waiting to be rescued by the Combined Anti-Terrorism bunch. Colin Keale went before the magistrate for drunk and disorderly, resisting arrest etc. and got a fine. He took exception to this and built some pipe bombs which he set off behind the courts. They weren’t really meant to harm anyone, just meant to express his displeasure with one hell of a bang. He’s got mental problems, that boy. In a way I hope it’s not him, because that would mean his illness just progressed. We’ll see. What’s your first impression, anyway?’

‘Hard to say, sir. It was quite a blast but an unlikely target for even the weirdest terror group. We might be looking for local lads here.’

‘Let’s hope so. I agree it’s a strange place to plant a bomb. But then bombers are weird by definition, which makes them so dangerous.’ He checked his improbably thin wristwatch. ‘I’ll be going to lunch now after which I will be in my office.’

‘There’s only one thing, sir …’

‘Yes?’

‘I don’t have any transport at the moment.’

Denkhaus’s nostrils flared. ‘Then get a space hopper or something, I fear we’re fresh out of Skodas! And you can also stop using my uniformed officers as chauffeurs, they’re needed for more important things than driving young DIs around town.’ A passing constable smiled grimly. Too right .