Scotch Mist (20 page)

‘We're not insuring against that,' Tom snapped. ‘There's evidence that the true cause of her death hasn't been made public. The tartan lads still believe she was killed by debris from the bonfire so feelings are still running high. Even more so after last night, and George wants to keep an eye on excessive behaviour at the funeral.'

Piercey, wearing with his grey striped suit a tie of vivid blue, yellow and green diamonds which Tom had warned him not to wear on duty, looked bored.

‘Why hasn't the DGC ordered Major Carnegie to give out that it was suicide? He's condoning and encouraging bad feelings. I propose our first task is to spread the fact around the Drumdorran accommodation blocks.'

‘And start a war?' asked Heather disparagingly. ‘Colonel Trelawney returns tomorrow. He has the rank to sort it.'

‘Whereas a sergeant hasn't,' said Max, who had entered in time to hear the last comments. ‘Carry on, Mr Black. I have a few phone calls to make.'

Tom waited until Max closed the door, then gave out the tasks that they had both decided on before parting last night.

‘Seek out every person who was involved with the display on Tuesday, including the guys who delivered the stuff from the QM Stores, and find out where they all were last evening.' He scowled at Piercey who raised his hands in an ‘I don't believe it' gesture. ‘Everyone who was involved in that calamity has to be a likely suspect for this second fire, so we find out who had the opportunity to be in the vicinity of the Officers' Mess. They all need a firm alibi before we strike them off the list and move on.'

‘Where to, sir?' asked Piercey pugnaciously. ‘We pretty well cleared them of making and inserting that IED, and we have no other leads on that. Why are we wasting time questioning that lot again?'

‘Because those are my orders, Sergeant.' Tom turned away from him to address the others. ‘Until we get a report from the Chief Fire Officer we can't be certain that an identical accelerant was used on the hedge but one was definitely used so concentrate on the dickheads who took it to the Sports Ground along with a straw effigy which could have contained the IED.'

‘Not big enough for an alarm clock and dynamite bomb in a case,' murmured Piercey, careless of whether or not Tom heard it.

His friend Beeny spoke up swiftly. ‘You're not asking us to question any of the Drumdorrans. Surely there's a possibility that last night's incident could have been a tit-for-tat attack.'

‘I'd consider that if it hadn't occurred outside the building in which all the regiment's officers, including its OC, were gathered.'

‘As were several hundred others,' Heather added. ‘If there's a pyromaniac on the base his urge is to start fires where they'll create the greatest visual display and command the most attention.'

‘A nutter, you mean? There's plenty of them on this base,' said Piercey. ‘Take your pick.'

Olly Simpson, who had apparently been intent on his scribblings, as usual, looked up at that point. ‘One aspect is surely unarguable. If he is a nutter, a pyromaniac, the affliction only began dogging him on the day the Drumdorrans marched in. As for last night, on a normal evening there could be less than fifty officers in the Mess, because most of them are married and live in quarters or in hirings in town. The fact that he selected the night dedicated to welcoming the new regimental members must be significant. If he's making a statement it's surely against the arrival of the Scots.'

Tom wagged his head. ‘That's stretching credibility. How would setting fires change the situation?'

‘It's just a
statement
, sir,' said Heather, then clearly wished she had remained silent.

‘So why not just hang banners reading, Go home, Jocks? Easier and less risky,' Tom pointed out, irritated by this fanciful reasoning. It was the kind of input Max would relish. ‘Let's get back to reality and interview those involved in the Guy Fawkes explosion. That bonfire wasn't lit by a pyromaniac, and we know the four guys who brought the straw effigy have access to accelerant. Right, get to it.' He nodded at Piercey. ‘I want a word with you.'

The Cornish sergeant appeared at ease as he waited until the rest had departed, which annoyed Tom even more. He had twice suggested to Max that Piercey should be transferred, but his friend would not agree. He felt that the man's maverick personality was an asset in that he had several times followed a line no one else had thought of and come up trumps. Well, Max himself did that, so he found it possible to excuse Piercey's lack of regimental conformity, but Tom was a stickler for it and found the laid back attitude and flippant comments infuriating at times like this.

He walked up to the six footer and gazed coldly into light brown eyes from his extra few inches of height. ‘You're treading a very fine line between contempt and insubordination. We're not dealing with two squaddies having an alcohol-fuelled punch-up. It's a highly dangerous situation which could escalate unless we swiftly put a stop to it. I've no space on this team for clowns who think they're above the basic task of information gathering, and who treat a briefing session as if it's a TV quiz game. You're one step away from demotion and a transfer, Sergeant, and this is my final warning. Now, get out there and do the job you're trained and paid to do, and do it with the zeal and dedication your colleagues put into it. Do I make myself clear?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Good. Start behaving like a responsible detective with the difficult task of tracing someone whose next “statement” could result in people being burned to death. It's
that
vital, man.'

‘Yes, sir.'

Piercey made to depart, looking serious but not in the least chastened.

‘And replace that bloody awful tie. You look like a dodgy car dealer!'

Only after the main door had closed behind Piercey did Tom remember that his father was a car dealer. If he was anything like his son he probably
was
dodgy. Needing a coffee, Tom tapped on the door of Max's office meaning to make a cup to mouth gesture, but Max was just replacing the receiver of his landline telephone with a frown. He gazed at Tom for a few seconds before leaning back in his chair and signalling him to take a seat.

‘I've just heard from Chip Reynolds. He says the fire last night was caused by a number of incendiary devices linked together by an electric cable, and ignited simultaneously from a master switch. The devices contained the same accelerant that was used on the bonfire, which is why the blaze was instant and so uniform.

‘Tom, we're dealing with a man who's not only intelligent and very skilled, he's also a genius at invention. That narrows the cast of thousands down to a few highly specialist soldiers.'

‘Who know how to do more than put an alarm clock and a stick of dynamite in a suitcase,' added Tom significantly.

TEN

M
ax was furious and he made the fact obvious to Miles Crawford. ‘This is
not
the work of a terrorist. I thought I'd made that perfectly clear during the past fifteen minutes.'

The Deputy Garrison Commander had red anger spots on his cheeks showing he was in no mood to be thwarted. ‘What you've
failed
to make clear, Rydal, is who you imagine
is
responsible for these attacks. A squaddie up for some mischief? For a lark? For a touch of one-upmanship?' All this said in a biting, derogatory tone. ‘This is out of SIB's league, which is why I intend to call in the Anti-Terrorist Squad.'

‘Has Colonel Trelawney agreed that?'

The red colour deepened on Crawford's cheeks. ‘He's presently involved with high-powered NATO talks, during which I'm deputizing for him with regard to any matter concerning this base.' His eyes narrowed. ‘You're under my command until he returns, and I now relieve you of the duty of investigating these enemy attacks.'

Max stood his ground. ‘At least wait until tomorrow, when I can give the GC an account of the evidence we've collated and on which we're working flat out. The pattern is not that of a terrorist.'

‘So you keep saying. On what experience do you base that statement? A few cases of drug abuse, theft of mess funds, marital infidelity – commonplace military crimes. You're out of your depth here, Rydal. Be man enough to admit it.'

Desperately fighting the loss of his temper completely and giving this senior officer his frank opinion of his fitness to deputize for John Trelawney, Max said stiffly, ‘Terrorists aim to
kill
. The IED placed in the bonfire was constructed to do no more than make a big bang and cause the cone to collapse. Only the additional items inserted by squaddies resulted in that forceful explosion. We have been told that by Captain Knott's experts, who aren't out of their depth when it comes to explosives,' he could not help adding, ‘Last night's fire in the mess car park was set at a time when all vehicles were empty, and when it would swiftly be seen from inside the building and dealt with. The Chief Fire Officer's report will bear that out.' He took a deep breath. ‘At neither incident was there deliberate intent to take lives. I say yet again, the pattern is not that of a terrorist.' Into the taut silence, he added more quietly, ‘Your son, sir, suffered injury from the outcome of something not intended to be harmful but which went badly wrong.'

The third man in that office, who had been silent after his initial greeting, now offered his opinion. ‘The bonfire incident occurred while I was settling my battalion in its new home with as few problems as possible. I'm not equipped to give a slant on SIB's findings although, of course, a life
was
lost that evening. The lady will be interred at noon today and there is no belief that she died at the hands of a terrorist.

‘As for yesterday's fire, I was there in the Mess alongside you, Miles, and witnessed the whole incident. It was alarming, certainly wicked, but I agree with Max that the prime object did not appear to be to endanger life.'

‘The building was filled with more than three hundred people,' protested Crawford. ‘How can you say there was no threat to lives?'

‘Because there was ample time and opportunity to evacuate the Mess,' responded Dougal Carnegie. ‘The fact that hedges standing well distant from the building were targeted surely upholds that belief. If, as Max suggests, the two incidents are linked with the possibility of more to come, that's a highly disturbing prospect.'

He turned to Max, grim-faced. ‘In your resumé you mentioned the coincidental timing of these incidents with the advent of the Drumdorran Fusiliers. I'm extremely concerned by that theory and, because of that alone, I support your request to leave the status quo until Colonel Trelawney gets back tomorrow.' Ignoring Crawford's gusty breath of protest, he continued. ‘You say Captain Knott will be returning with him? Good. His evidence regarding the devices used will be invaluable.'

Max countered that swiftly. ‘I haven't requested that we do nothing until the GC gets here, just that the ATS shouldn't be called in at this stage. My team will work throughout the weekend following up info received and analyzing those facts we already have. The coincidental timing with your arrival is only one theory of several, sir. I hope to have an in-depth report ready for Colonel Trelawney tomorrow, but SIB's main task is to prevent another incident by tracing the perpetrator as swiftly as we can.'

The Scot stood indicating an end to this aggressive meeting, once more acting as if he was the driving force on the base rather than Miles Crawford.

‘I have a funeral to attend, gentlemen,' he said, making for the door.

Max delayed him. ‘Major Carnegie, there seems to have been no effort made to reveal to your men the true cause of Mrs McTavish's death. They still believe she was killed by flying debris from the bonfire.'

He stopped, half-turned towards Max and said in a pseudo-pleasant tone, ‘Do they now?'

‘It would reduce the aggro in town tonight if the facts were made public. Our uniformed boys have enough to deal with on these serious cases without having to monitor unnecessary violence in the pubs and discos.' Seeing the glint in Carnegie's eyes, he added firmly, ‘At our previous meeting on the subject you suggested that we should all make every effort to work together amicably.'

The glint became a laser beam of real anger. ‘And there was I under the impression that it's Major Crawford who is deputizing for the Garrison Commander!' With that shot he departed.

‘That man's a law unto himself,' Max told George Maddox fiercely when he called in at the RMP post en route to Headquarters. ‘Due to him tonight's brawls in town will be unnecessarily violent.'

‘I'm ready for that, sir. Extra cruising patrols. We want to be on the spot before the
Polizei
are called; deal with our guys ourselves. Saves a lot of hassle in the law courts.'

Still angered by Carnegie's avoidance of the issue of Eva McTavish's death, Max grunted agreement. Law-breaking outside the base or in any way affecting German nationals had to be dealt with by the local police. Like all British military personnel, Max preferred to keep everything within their closed ranks. Defend their own, whatever the charge against them. An age-old tradition in any fighting force.

‘George, if Chummy is making some kind of protest against our new Scottish residents what are the chances of him targeting the funeral?' He glanced at the standard MOD clock on the wall above George's head. ‘An hour from now the cortège will be arriving at the Garrison Church.'

‘Minimal, I reckon. What could he do, what would he gain?'

‘What did he gain, apart from satisfaction, from his two strikes? Find the answer to that and we'll find him.' He frowned. ‘I guess it's too soon after last night's affair to go again . . . and he'd draw the line at attacking a funeral, surely.'