‘Your job is to sift through the contents of a bin using your hands and the sieves provided. As you can see, each dustbin is zone numbered and corresponds to an area at the bomb site from which the debris was collected. Put any fabric you find into the same numbered bin bag. Large fragments of metal on the same numbered groundsheet, and ditto with the small bits on the trestle table so the experts can examine them and decide what is potential evidence. Grab a clipboard and exhibits book from the cabinet and start on bin eight.’
It was after midday when DS Lawrence arrived with the head scientist. Due to the constant sifting, Jane was now filthy with brick dust, which had even got into her hair. The mask hadn’t been much use; her mouth was dry and her nostrils itched from the dust. Lawrence came and looked at the debris she had sifted through and laid out on the groundsheet and trestle table. She had found a few large fragments of metal, a small belt buckle still attached to a thin piece of leather strap, two bits of coiled wire with metal on one end and the tattered bloody remnants of a man’s shoe, the toecap of which had a small shard of metal stuck in it. As Jane listed each item in the exhibits book, along with detailed descriptions, Lawrence looked closely at the smaller items she had placed on the trestle table. She could tell from the look on his face that something had intrigued him.
‘Do you think they could be important?’ Jane asked.
‘Well, from the size of them, that leather strap and buckle look like they could be from a rucksack fastener. The small pieces of metal are also interesting… What location was this stuff recovered from?’
‘Zone 8,’ she told him.
Lawrence looked at the clipboard he was holding, which contained details of each zone that debris had been swept up from. He tapped the clipboard then asked the head scientist to come over.
‘Zone 8 was near the seat of the explosion,’ he explained. As the scientist closely examined the wire and small pieces of metal, Lawrence added, ‘He’s an expert in identifying bomb fragments and examining debris for traces of nitroglycerine.’
The scientist used a magnifying glass to look more closely at the small metal fragments and wire.
‘Who found these?’
‘I did, sir… are they important?’
‘Good spot, young lady. I’d say the wire and bit of metal attached to it are from a detonator. I need to look at some other stuff from zone 4, so bag these pieces up separately and I’ll sign your exhibits book so I can carry out a further examination and explosives residue test in the lab.’
As the scientist walked off, Jane turned to Lawrence. ‘I didn’t have a clue what they were when I saw them, other than pieces of wire and metal that could have been from anything.’
Lawrence smiled. ‘To be honest it’s not my field of expertise… so I wasn’t sure either. The same scientist you just spoke with attended the post-mortems and found other bomb fragments embedded in the ticket guard’s body. It was tragic that he died that way, but the items recovered from his body could offer up vital clues about the origin of the parts used to make the bomb.’
Jane didn’t need to ask what state his body was in, as she’d seen it for herself at the scene. She added the details to the exhibits book and packaged the items separately for the scientist before placing them on a trolley with other items of importance.
Jane accompanied Lawrence as he pushed the trolley laden with exhibits across to the chemistry lab in the main building opposite. As they walked along the corridor, Jane looked through the small door’s window into a side room. She could see that the room was filled with heavily bloodstained clothing, and that many items were bomb damaged, shredded and burnt. They were labelled and pegged up on clothes lines, pools of dripping blood had gathered on the plastic sheets below from when they were initially hung up to dry. Lawrence explained that there were large heaters in the room to dry the clothes and remnants before they were examined. The awful state of the clothes and the bloodstained baby blanket, which she recognised, were evidence of the horrific injuries many of the victims must have suffered.
Jane made her way to the ladies to wash her hands and face. It was hard to get rid of the gritty powder on her clothes and even though she had been wearing gloves she could feel dust underneath her nails. Lawrence was waiting for her in the corridor to lead her up a flight of stairs to the canteen.
Lawrence sat down beside Jane as they placed their trays onto one of the dining tables. Jane was having meat loaf with vegetables, and they both had coffee. Lawrence seemed on edge, sipping only a few spoons of his soup before pushing it aside.
‘You know, I wanted to be brought onto this case but it is so time-consuming, and some of the equipment here is archaic. I just read an FBI article on gas-chromatography and mass spectrometry testing. The Yanks have developed a quadruple capillary column GC-MS. It’s an analytical workhorse for breaking molecules into ionised fragments using their mass-to-charge ratio. Mind you, they don’t have the talented and highly trained forensic experts that we have.’
Jane laughed. ‘Like you, you mean?’
Lawrence shrugged. ‘I’m not blowing my own trumpet, but interpreting and finding the clues at murder scenes is my forte. Here, we already know that people were killed by a bomb; it’s tedious work sifting stuff by hand, not to mention using eye verification for minute bits of a bomb.’
Lawrence’s frustration was obvious. As he was talking, Jane spotted DS Dexter, who was in the line of officers waiting to be served hot food. He was wearing a checked shirt, casual fawn trousers and his tie was hanging loose. He was laughing with one of the canteen servers and on turning around with his tray he saw Jane, smiled and headed towards her table.
‘Hello there!’ he said. ‘I meant to catch you in the lab but I was nabbed by Crowley who was having a fit about someone who had parked a VW in a scientist’s reserved parking bay and didn’t have a permit displayed… probably one of the woodentops assisting in the debris hangar.’
Jane blushed and jumped up.
‘You haven’t finished your lunch!’ Dexter said, surprised.
‘I’ll be right back… just forgotten something.’ She rushed out, looking flustered.
Dexter dumped his tray down on the table and patted Lawrence on the shoulder. ‘Hey, my man, how’re you doing?’
‘Been at it all morning, taking scrapings of blood and fibre lifts off smashed bricks, in between piecing together sections of body parts over at the Westminster Mortuary, so I’ve not got too much of a spring in my step, actually… Have a seat.’ Lawrence buttered his crackers and loaded them with cheese.
Dexter’s eyes rested on Jane’s empty seat. ‘She’s very attractive, our new colleague… You worked with her before, Paul? Or has your legendary charm enticed her to dine with you today?’
‘We were both at Hackney and then Bow Street. Nobody else was talking to her, so I brought her up for lunch. How come you know her?’
‘From the Covent Garden attack. You know she was there?’ Lawrence nodded. ‘I helped her prep for the press conference at Scotland Yard. Crowley pushed her. He’s made out publicly that she can identify this bastard bomber. Now, whether she can or not, it means she could be in the line of fire.’