A description had now been circulated force-wide and he was sure they would pick him up eventually. Was he the bomber? He’d certainly like a chance to ask him.
If the skateboarder was connected to the bombs then he wanted to be caught — why else make yourself conspicuous? — and McLusky would oblige. And when he caught up with the bastard he’d better be wearing his knee-pads.
Chapter Eight
McLusky had overruled Austin’s decision to set up an incident room near the scene of the murder. Austin had tried to argue but McLusky was adamant. ‘This won’t be the last. The devices are going off at such close intervals we’ll still be stuck out here in Knowle West when the next one blows.’
Secretly Austin had been relieved. There would have been very few facilities out there and setting up at Albany Road was always far easier and quicker. And closer to the canteen.
McLusky had been impressed by the speed with which things had materialized — tables, chairs, phones, terminals, printers, monitors, civilian IT staff, fax and kettle. It couldn’t really be called ‘well rehearsed’. The murder rate in the city was so high rehearsal was unnecessary. It was now simply routine.
This morning, as McLusky looked at the civilians and officers talking on phones or clacking away on grey, battered keyboards, he felt panic beginning to bubble on the floor of his stomach. But why? What was different this time? Precisely nothing apart from the fact that the victim had died. It would be no easier or harder getting a lead. Strikingly different was the effect the bomb had had on the media. The press was making much of beer, booze and bomb alliteration. The unusual packaging of the bombs had attracted the national press too. Everyday items like powder compacts and cans of lager were not supposed to explode. There was much speculation about the choice of item. The beer can was surely aimed at drunks and the powder compact at the vain. Yet the more intelligent writers did spot what McLusky had said from the start, that anyone might have picked the items up and become a victim. That didn’t mean of course that there was no connection in the mind of the maniac behind the bombings.
He noticed several of the computer operators sit up straighter which meant Superintendent Denkhaus had once more appeared in the open door behind him. A desk facing away from the door had been a bad choice. The super appeared at his elbow and without comment added another national paper to the pile already there. He managed to see Deadly Drink in the headline before Denkhaus leant a fleshy hand on it and bent close to him. ‘I’m giving a press conference at half eleven. Have you got any pearls for me that I can throw before the lions or are you sending me out there naked?’
A moment of metaphorical bafflement made McLusky hesitant. ‘Ehm, no. I mean, nothing new since we last spoke, super. We have the skateboarder near two of the incidents but I’d rather you didn’t use him to protect your modesty. So to speak. Just … following your metaphor, sir. I don’t want him to know we are looking for him. He can easily unspike his hair and float the skateboard down the river.’
Denkhaus shrugged heavily. ‘On the other hand someone must know who he is. If your friend or neighbour rode a skateboard with an engine on it you would know about it. We could be looking at an early arrest …’
‘I doubt it, sir. The man’s a loner. He makes bombs, so he’s unlikely to sit on the pub quiz team. He’s too busy hating someone, something. His neighbours might have no idea he’s got a motorized skateboard. I imagine he takes it in the back of his car. He drives to a car park, puts on the gear and gets on the skateboard. Then off he goes. The same in reverse. If he has a garage his neighbours might never know.’
‘Someone will have seen him take the thing out and start it up.’
‘Sure. It’s what I’m hoping but I don’t want to spook him. As long as he’s using the skateboard he’s conspicuous. I’ll find him.’
Denkhaus didn’t like the way McLusky said, ‘I’ll find him.’ Police work was team work. He knew the McLusky type. They thought they’d invented detective work, thought that it was all down to them and that they could bend the rules. Cocky guys full of ‘I’ when the going was good. When it all came to nothing it was back to the collective ‘we’. I succeed, we fail. ‘Do you really think he could be our man?’
‘He’s all we’ve got at the moment.’
‘You were quite sure about letting Colin Keale go. You don’t want to pull him in again, apply a bit more pressure?’
‘Not until we’ve exhausted everything else. Not until I’m getting desperate.’
‘Don’t worry, McLusky, I’ll tell you when you’re getting desperate.’ Denkhaus straightened up and squinted at the window. Rain clouds hung low over the city. ‘I hate going out there fielding questions without having anything positive to feed them. There’s no progress on the muggings and no progress on the bomber. All the press are ever looking for is incompetence or negligence. They’re forever trying to blame us for what’s happening out there. In fact what gives the media the biggest hard-on is resignations, hounding someone until they are forced to resign. Makes them feel their crummy little lives are worth living. I’m already getting my ears chewed from upstairs about this. They’re afraid the bomber might cause a panic. If people start panicking then we really aren’t doing our job properly. What’s happened to the spirit of the blitz? All it takes is one little …’
The phone on the desk rang. ‘Excuse me, sir.’ He answered it. It was Lynn Tiery, the superintendent’s secretary. She had the Assistant Chief Constable’s office on the line for Superintendent Denkhaus. ‘It’s the ACC for you.’
Denkhaus suppressed a groan. ‘I’ll take it in my office. Keep me informed. About every detail. Whether there’s progress or not.’
When Denkhaus was out of earshot the civilian computer operator at the next desk looked up from the lists on his screen. ‘No pressure then.’
‘Not yet. Is it me or is it bloody freezing in here?’
A cheerful chorus answered his question. ‘It’s bloody freezing in here.’
‘Can we do anything about that?’
‘Nope. The heating shuts down automatically on this day every year irrespective of the actual temperature. Centrally managed. It would probably take an Act of Parliament to get it changed.’
‘Marvellous.’ If he had to be cold he’d rather be cold out there where he could do something useful. Footage from the car park where the compact was left was still being sifted. A check on all identified vehicles was being done. It would take time to cross-check if any of the registered owners had previous and those would end up on the top of the list to be interviewed about their movements. Endless man-hours. Of course it had to be done but McLusky was almost certain it was a waste of time. Unfortunately he had nothing rational to base this conviction on so could do little about it. What he could do was get out of here.
Damp humanity crowded the lobby. An entire minibus-load of day-trippers were reporting all their possessions stolen, including their bus. A couple of pale, thin-haired teenage boys were being processed, the evidence of their thieving in a clear plastic bag on the desk: CDs and DVDs. They wore nothing more than jeans, T-shirts and trainers and looked like they’d swum there. The rain appeared to do little to dampen the public’s enthusiasm for mayhem. Theft, shoplifting, burglary and naturally all crime connected to drugs continued unabated. Domestic violence rose slightly. Only the figures for indecent exposure were significantly depressed by cold, wet weather.
McLusky turned on the windscreen wipers of the Polo. They were useless. It was even colder in the car. The lack of heating meant he had to drive with the window half open to stop the windscreen fogging up completely. He kept wiping a patch so he could peer through. The route to Forthbank Industrial Park in the east forced him to battle through some of the worst traffic snarls in the city. Wedged between two articulated lorries in his underpowered car and barely able to see through the spray kicked up by other vehicles he darkly pondered his transport problems. When the sign to the industrial park appeared out of the gloom he gratefully pulled off the busy A road and through the open gates. Among a monkey puzzle of signposts McLusky found what he was looking for.