by Ron Elliott
Iris said, ‘He didn’t stay around. There were children, families, about twenty people. He lit the fire, jammed the exit, left without seeing the show.’
Charles grinned at Iris. ‘We must be getting close.’
Iris asked the media tech, ‘Is he the same man who was at the school?’
He looked to Scanlon, not Pavlovic.
Pavlovic said, ‘We’re working the zoo right now.’
Scanlon said, ‘Show her.’ He asked John, ‘Have you seen this?’
The psychologist shook his head.
‘Tell me more body language stuff.’
Iris noticed an identification card in a plastic folder suspended from the media tech’s neck. He was a detective too. He changed thumb drives, opened different files. He hit play, and up came a high angle wide shot of the school gymnasium and the grass beyond. He said, ‘We have two angles. This is the only one showing the truck.’
It was an open-backed truck with metro landscaping painted on the side. Shovels and limestone blocks were visible in the back. When the truck did a U-turn on the bitumen they all strained to see through the front windscreen, getting only dim reflections. The truck parked near a side door, leaving only a corner of the rear tray visible.
Chuck said, ‘He broke in the side door. Jimmied the lock. It’s in the reports. Then he chained and padlocked it.
Hands came into the back of the truck, occasionally a hat. Rolls of reticulation hose were removed.
‘He works mostly the other side of the truck, so he’s hidden by the gym wall.’ The tech fast-forwarded the tape, pressed play again. ‘Except here.’
The man was up on the truck. He wore an orange visibility vest, a wide-brimmed hat. He straightened and waved off screen before picking up a large silver object.
‘The urn,’ said Charles.
Iris said, ‘So who is he waving at?’
Scanlon, ‘We haven’t found anyone.’
John said, ‘Us. He’s waving at us. You can barely see it, it’s a finger flutter.’ He did the gesture, slightly effeminate, an ironic wave.
The man disappeared, the truck came forward, then veered out to the grass side of the gymnasium, no longer visible to the CCTV camera.
Chuck said, ‘He knows where the blind spots are.’
‘Yeah. He knows. You can see a bit of the truck from the camera near the home economics rooms, but not worth any detail. Here he comes.’
The man appeared again, coming back around the corner of the gym. He carried a broom, his head down.
Iris said, ‘You are right. He likes playing dress-ups. He likes props.’
John said, ‘You wear a high-visibility vest, you become invisible. The props are the things people notice.’
Chuck said, ‘Have you got him coming out?’
Pavlovic said, ‘We can go into that later.’
Charles said, ‘Why?’
Pavlovic said, ‘The timing of his egress might be crucial to the ongoing investigation.’
Iris thought this to be about an alibi, hers or James or whoever. They weren’t sharing the time Zorro came out.
Scanlon said, ‘Keep us in the loop.’ He pushed past Chuck who had to step out of the tiny media room to allow him to go.
John said to Iris, ‘He’s a cool customer. He’s done this before. I still think he’s ex-military if not current.’
‘But why me?’
No one answered.
John followed the federal detective out.
Iris said, ‘Someone said something about a dog walker on the weekend before.’
‘On a couple of weekends.’ The tech checked with Pavlovic who nodded.
Charles limped into the room, eased himself back onto a desk at the back.
The tech fast-forwarded. ‘It was set on a four-week turnaround, erasing the first week with the fifth week’s recording. Luck for us. Bear in mind they’re not recording twenty-five frames a second and they’re saving in low-res.’ People were kicking footballs, dogs walked, balls flew, all in a slightly jerky motion. It was the same angle as the previous shot. The tech went to another file, clicked on that.
A man in a dark coat and a floppy cricket hat. Sunglasses. He had a dog on a leash, a golden retriever. He walked into shot leading the dog. The retriever limped. The man regarded the camera. He was a long way away.
‘Does he have a fake beard?’ said Iris.
Pavlovic said, ‘A scarf. We’ve got an enhancement. Pixilation noise so useless.’
Iris said, ‘It’s a similar coat to the one worn going into the zoo.’
‘Yes.’
The man pulled the leash, dragged the limping dog out of shot.
A new shot came on. The same camera but in different light. It was later. The timer running at the bottom of screen showed 1713.
‘This is the week before.’
A woman with long blonde hair walked into shot leading a poodle. She wore the same coat, with a beanie and big sunglasses. She walked like a man trying to walk like a woman. She went to the side of the gymnasium, disappeared near the side door. She re-emerged, walked away moments later.
‘Checking out the lock,’ said Chuck.
‘Same man. Different dog,’ said Iris.
Pavlovic said, ‘Dog hairs in the truck too. Lots of animal hairs on the truck seat. Looks like he scoped out the place walking his dogs.’
Chuck said, ‘Only the outside. I’ve been thinking about what you said at my boat, Doc. He knows where everything is. He comes prepared, sure, but he also knows the layout and precise technical elements.’ Chuck asked, ‘Was a fire preparedness inspection carried out on the school gymnasium any time in the months before this?’
Pavlovic interrupted. ‘Thanks, Adam,’ he said to the media detective, and, ‘Let’s go get a coffee,’ to Charles and Iris.
Chapter nineteen
Pavlovic led them along another corridor.
Chuck said, ‘This place is hard to get into, by the way.’
‘Harder to get out of.’
‘Soldiers.’
‘Until we find the missing gas.’
‘How much is missing?’
‘From the calculations of the boffins, about half of what was stolen.’ Pavlovic led them back into a detectives room. The desks were messy, some still occupied even after eleven on a Sunday night.
Chuck talked about the gas while Pavlovic dragged chairs over to his desk. ‘Diethyl ether is a strange choice. It can be used as starting fluid. Eighty-five to ninety-six cetane. Low flashpoint. Highly volatile. Not your regular bomb choice. Too bulky. Too unstable. As I’ve said, why it got away from him.’
Pavlovic said, ‘Ether, it’s an anaesthetic.’
Chuck said, ‘Not anymore. Too flammable. It’s used in laboratories though as a solvent. It can be mixed with other pharmaceuticals. Knockout drops and recreational drug use too.’
‘So, Chuck, what else you brought us?’
Charles said, ‘I’ve asked for more back files. The old people’s home last year, the backpackers the year before, there’s three house fires the year before I’m looking at especially one where the husband, wife and four kids were all killed. Security screens on all the windows and doors. Keys melt, but these keys might have been missing, which would be a fit for Zorro. Anyway, I want to find out if any building inspections were carried out on those properties.’
Iris said, ‘And the school.’
‘I think it’s how he gets the precise layout. It’s not a firey, Doc, but you were close. He goes in as a fire safety inspector. Goes over where the water outlets are, what alarm systems are used, access points, probably disables some of the smoke detectors. Takes photos, does drawings, notes entrances, checks shift movements. He’d even be able to select the appliance he wants to trick up as the accidental ignition point.’
‘Scanlon. Yeah.’ Pavlovic spoke into his mobile. ‘The building inspection done at the school gym. Yes. Yes, can we get descriptions of the inspector?’ He listened, raising his eye
brows to Chuck and Iris. ‘Yeah, well back we go. I think the head of the sports department too. If this is our man, he knew when the coach was going on holidays. It might be the only time he doesn’t wear a disguise. Oh, and we need to fast-track witness statements in at least two old cases Charles Koch is working. Can we get clerical help? Yes. Yes.’
Iris said, ‘Charles, can you thumbnail the earlier cases? Chronologically.’
‘I’m still getting more stuff in from police files, I reckon the deros were probably over a few years, not just December. Pretty sketchy reports, it’s enough to look like a spree. Most of them were sleeping or passed out. Accelerant was poured over them and set alight. They wake up screaming, on fire and mostly they put it out. No one died. The ones in hospital were interviewed, not very thoroughly.’ He shot a glance to Pavlovic.
Pavlovic nodded. ‘Deros.’ It was not an endorsement. Simply an acknowledgment of past priorities. Possibly present ones too.
‘I’ve also got a teenage kid seen leaving one by a couple who came to the old man’s rescue. I’ve got reports of two soft-drink cans. One’s identified as Fanta, the other isn’t identified. Smelled of petrol.’
Pavlovic, ‘Retest for prints?’
‘Weren’t kept. Minor assaults. The following year Springsteen starts and no more deros are lit up.’
Iris asked, ‘Were they in parks, like the vagrants?’
‘Yes. Lover’s Lane–type places. Where you’d park your car, deserted, private.’
‘Any on the coast?’ asked Pavlovic.
‘No. I’ll check again, mostly the hills.’
Iris said, ‘He’s still a teenager. He can’t drive. It’s close to where he lives.’
Pavlovic made a note.
‘So, first these two are on a blanket near a creek, maybe under another blanket because the reports suggests in flagrante delicious-io. First thing they know their blanket is on fire. Petrol. No can found. Most might not be reported, of course.’
‘Why?’ asked Iris.
‘Some lovers shouldn’t be loving, either full stop or with whomever they’re loving with,’ replied Pavlovic.
Charles smirked then said, ‘I’m going to have to go get my notes if you want more detail, Doc. I think the next one was in a car. Door suddenly open, petrol tossed in. Doesn’t light. The lover chases the kid. Thinks he’s young although it’s a gravel parking bay overlooking the city so it’s dark, surrounded by bush.’ Chuck took more time to think things through.
Pavlovic took more notes.
Chuck said, ‘I think young Zorro leaves cars alone for a while. Picnic blankets, couples sitting on benches. Always dark.’
Iris said, ‘Are they always lovers?’
‘Yep. Distracted when he sneaks up. He changes to lighter fluid halfway through the spree. Lights faster, I guess. Sprayed from the lighter can. Burns aren’t as deep, mind you.’
Iris. ‘Does he spray both or only one of the couple?’
Charles thought for a while. ‘I’d have to check, but I think both are burned. Most of the times. I’ll check it. By this time the police had stepped up their patrols, were taking the names of teenagers they found out and about. Sniffing them for petrol fumes.’
‘You’ve got the names?’
‘Should have in about …’ he indicated his watch theatrically, ‘in about eight or nine hours.’ Charles’s legs were stretched out in front of him like he was on a lounge talking about the football scores.
Pavlovic said, ‘The funeral is tomorrow, so I might have to chase them up.’ He made another note.
They went quiet as they contemplated the funeral.
Finally Pavlovic said, ‘So, the Lover’s Lane Pyro?’
‘Is now in the newspapers and the police are stepping up. They nab a couple of burglars and a firebug. He goes back to cars using lighter fluid. He burns two more couples. He waits until they’re … more than petting. They’re getting right into it. Some very bad burns. Then the big one. You probably remember.’
Pavlovic nodded.
Iris said, ‘Remind me.’
‘She’s a hairdresser who still lives at home. Very pretty. Twenty-two. He’s an apprentice carpenter and a promising footy player of the same age. They’ve been going out since year eleven. They’re engaged, I think. It’s a Subaru station wagon. They’re in the back. He pours petrol all over the back and over the top and lights it. They’re trapped inside. The fire is fast. Big. It attracts a police car. They both die screaming, according to the cops who can’t get close. The car exploded. Fuel tank. Sounds familiar when I put it like that.’
‘It stopped,’ said Pavlovic. ‘I remember. Springsteen stopped after them.’
‘I pick up his trail later.’ Charles glanced at Iris, added, ‘interestingly in the hills again.’
Pavlovic leaned forward. ‘Have you mapped these?’
‘Give me a fuckin break. The Doc and I only started on this line a couple of days ago. And I was on a bloody suspension.’
‘I’m not dissing you, Chuck. This is brilliant. It’s a question.’
‘You blokes are the ones dragging your bloody heels. Give me the fuckin files.’ Chuck glared.
Pavlovic shuffled some papers on his desk. ‘Do you mind if I put these things on a map?’
‘I can’t stop you.’
‘No you can’t. Why would you want to? We’re both trying to catch this bastard.’
Iris interjected, ‘It’s the summer he changed. For some reason. He matured. Possibly in age too. He started planning more. I think he liked the trapping.’
They both stared at her. They didn’t follow.
‘Lots of firelighters like watching fire. Most are kids, don’t forget. They love to see a building kindle then glow as the fire slowly takes hold, before eating everything. Compulsive, recidivist firelighters – the firebugs love to see it take off in the bush, from this tiny flame they lit to tear away as a wall of flame suddenly beyond anyone’s control. Immense and powerful. See the people flee, watch the firefighters run around like ants trying stop the thing they’ve unleashed. Most of them aren’t seeking to cause death. Certainly not in any direct way. It’s been called a coward’s crime because even those killers who use fire as a weapon, light it and walk away and don’t see the consequences. Fire is not face-to-face. It’s impersonal.’
‘You like fire, don’t you?’ said Pavlovic darkly.
‘Which is beside the point. It is elemental. Like lightning striking near you. Like trying to stand against waves at the beach. It is how others see it which is important, Detective. What I’m getting to is Zorro uses it, as Chuck once said, to hurt and kill. Sure he likes fire, he particularly wants to trap. He wants to control the fire so it hurts and kills at a pace and order he imagines. This is now, now he’s the adult butterfly.
‘When he was a caterpillar, I think he went looking for the homeless because they were easy and burnt them for a thrill. I suspect he’d burnt animals before. He stepped up, like his pupa stage. His Lover’s Lane summer was about his sexuality, his urges or his confusions. It might have been adolescent, I suspect, something larger is being worked out. I know a lot about Zorro doesn’t fit the profile but I’d bet he comes from a broken or dysfunctional home. He has sexual issues. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t known to the police or child protection during this time.’
‘Why’d he stop?’ Chuck asked.
‘I don’t know. Something happened or maybe was resolved. Maybe he was sent to prison. Juvenile detention is worth checking against the other names. Maybe he moved away and never did stop.’
‘Like Malaysia,’ said Pavlovic.
They both gaped at him.
‘We think we’ve got a solid lead in Malaysia by the way.’
Iris said, ‘Are we all sharing, Detective, or is this still one-way?’
‘Yeah, you’re not passing the ball much,’ added Chuck.
Pavlovic stood, really cranky for the first time, ‘People! Do you have any idea how big this is? H
ow many departments are involved? Massive amounts of information are being sifted, interviews run down, old stuff like we’re getting for you, Chuck? There are chains of command where I live. Then the fucking Martian escapes. Now the zoo! It’s getting pretty reactive all around. As essential as I think your line of investigation is, every time I’m here or with you Iris, I’m not in about five other rooms all moving ahead as fast on as many other lines of inquiry.’
Iris said, ‘Yeah, Iris, stop being so selfish.’
He stood glaring at her.
Iris said, ‘Point taken. I’m sorry. We’re tired. We’re stressed. I’m hungry.’
He sat again. ‘They don’t usually share fingerprints, so we finally nudged the Foreign Minister in on the negotiating. We have a house fire, children killed. James Jules, an Australian citizen who married an Indian Malaysian. By accounts he’s Anglo-West Indian, which all fits.’
Charles said, ‘Time frame?’
‘Five or six years ago. Definitive paperwork is winding through channels.’
‘December?’
‘Don’t know yet.’
Charles pointed to Pavlovic’s notepad. ‘So the first question to the school people is, “Was the fire safety inspector a bit Indian looking?”’
Iris said, ‘So jail in Malaysia?’
‘I don’t know yet. If it is the same man, we have to assume he wasn’t jailed. He came home, started again. He is very good at getting out of locked places.’
Iris checked to see if he was having a dig at her, but Pavlovic was busy thinking.
Chuck too seemed to be running time lines.
Pavlovic asked, ‘Anything else he told you in the interviews we can use? I am assuming his escape and the targeting of you is related.’
Iris said, ‘He is in pain. He has suffered trauma. He killed his wife and children, which accounts for his retreat into the Martian delusion. A dissociative identity disorder. I believe he has been reworking this trauma in the construction of his spaceship crash – he wants to go back to save his family from the fire. Which is in my report.’ Iris still struggled to see James as Zorro, but went with the hypothesis. ‘It was a different breakdown which caused him to light the fire and attempt suicide in his house in Malaysia. I would have liked to have worked with him further.’