Final Lap

by Malcolm Rose

  “The Authorities had to evict several people from their homes to allow the scheme to proceed and, in particular, to lay the airport runway. They were offered superior accommodation elsewhere. Most accepted alternative quarters but some resisted and were removed by force. I have a file on them.”

  Luke nodded. “Yes, that’s the type of thing. I want to build up a list of the sort of people who’d bear a grudge and might try to get their own back with a bit of sabotage.”

  “You have not yet proved that the series of accidents amounts to the crime of sabotage,” Malc reminded him.

  “Mmm. I don’t suppose it’s worth scanning building sites for evidence.”

  “Correct. There will be too much debris to distinguish significant traces. Also, you have not been called to the locations quickly enough. They will have been heavily contaminated so any data would not be valid in law.”

  “Messiest crime scenes I’ve ever come across – if they are crime scenes.” Luke dragged himself away from the window and lay down on the bed. “All right, let’s review what’s happened in the last two years. Talk me through it.”

  There was nothing in the sequence of incidents – from the loss of Flight GGW17 two years ago to the scaffolding collapse in the main stadium two days ago – that could definitely be put down to intentional interference. Each episode could have been the result of bad luck or poor work. Even the rifle that had blown up in the hands of one of the shooting team could have been a manufacturing fault. At least the shooter had survived the accident. The digger that went out of control might have had defective brakes from the outset. There was no proof that the crash happened on purpose.

  The mishaps had taken place across the whole of the Hounslow development. They weren’t restricted to one part of the scheme or to one aspect of the International Youth Games. Sometimes builders had suffered, sometimes athletes, sometimes unconnected bystanders like the passengers flying to Glasgow. But The Authorities were right. Luke found it hard to believe that so many things could go wrong with a project by mere chance. One accident could be put down to bad luck; two were an unhappy coincidence; three or more had to be deliberate crime.

  With his head on the pillow, Luke’s feet overhung the end of the bed. “Tell me about Libby Byrne,” he said to Malc.

  “She is forty-two years old and trained in engineering. She was the Hounslow project manager until she failed to report for work three days ago. She left home in keeping with her normal schedule for the beginning of the week but she did not arrive at her Hounslow office. There is no evidence for abduction or murder but foul play must be suspected, given the number of related events.”

  “Anyone with a grudge against the development or the Games would have a grudge against her as well. I need to talk to her replacement and her partner.”

  “Logged.”

  “Do you have a register of everyone who worked in the aircraft maintenance centre, when it was in operation?”

  “Confirmed. However, it may not be complete.”

  “Did the accident inquiry find out which engineer fitted the wrong nut on the fuel line?”

  “No.”

  “Pity. He or she would’ve been my first suspect.”

  Malc said, “You should know that I have a list of spectators and competitors when the scaffolding collapsed in the main stadium. It includes Owen Goode and Jed Lester.”

  Luke got up on his elbows. “Really?”

  “Correct. If they had not been present, I would not have told you the opposite.”

  Getting off the bed, Luke went for his coat. “Let’s get going.”

  Malc hesitated and then announced, “I have received a transmission concerning the victim of an incident in the Aquatic Centre yesterday. She is a swimmer called Brooke Adams. Doctors are suspicious about the cause and circumstances of the injuries. They believe it is a case of poisoning.”

  “Okay. Where is she?”

  “Hounslow Medical Centre.”

  “That’s the first stop, then. But...” Luke glanced out of the window at the clinic. “It doesn’t seem to have much of a roof yet.”

  Chapter Three

  Brooke Adams was the thirteenth patient to be treated in the new unit. Apart from the shooter whose rifle had exploded, all of the others had been builders hurt in a variety of accidents, from the trivial to the serious. The medical centre was far from finished and nowhere near fully staffed so it was a relief that there wasn’t a queue.

  Brooke was sitting up in bed while, somewhere overhead, roofers banged about. Her appearance was upsetting. Apart for a small area around each eye, her face was rough and rippled like scrunched paper. The skin was more yellow, red and blue than a healthy light brown. Her tongue was covered in sores and she was itching all over. Bouts of vomiting and diarrhoea had left her very weak. It was painful to see how a supremely fit and pretty eighteen-year-old had been reduced to a shattered and disfigured wreck. But, the doctor had told Luke, at least she was now stable.

  “They think there was poison in the water,” she struggled to tell Luke. The ulcers on her tongue would not let her speak normally and clearly. The effort of forming words also seemed to exhaust her. “Do you know what it was? And why?”

  Sitting next to her bed, Luke replied, “No, but I’ll find out. The Aquatic Centre’s shut till I do. Did you see anyone messing around? Anything suspicious at all?”

  She shook her head delicately. “The place was empty – weird, but nothing suspicious.”

  Her speech was badly slurred and Luke had to concentrate to understand her. “I’ve got to ask,” he said. “Is there anyone who’d want to do this to you?”

  “I don’t think so. No.” She lifted her knee and reached under the covers with her hand so that she could scratch the irritation between her toes.

  “Did everyone know you’d be the first to go in the water? Was it announced?”

  “No. I asked to try it before the proper opening.”

  Luke nodded. “In that case, if there was something in the baths, it’d be aimed at anyone going in, not just you. It wasn’t personal.”

  “That’s worse, isn’t it? Horrible idea.” She took three deep breaths. A tube inserted into her nostril helped her to get more oxygen. “I dread to think what would’ve happened without goggles. My eyes... you know.”

  “You can see all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s good.” Luke jerked his thumb towards Malc. “My mobile’s downloaded all your medical notes.” He paused and asked him, “Haven’t you?”

  “Confirmed. The main symptoms are stomach pain, fever, liver and kidney damage, jaundice, rapid heartbeat, lung damage, poor uptake of oxygen...”

  “All right,” said Luke, interrupting. When he looked at Brooke again, he wondered if she’d been told what the mystery substance had done to her face. He wondered if she’d been given a mirror. He doubted it. He assumed she’d have to deal with that shock later, when she’d got some strength back. Maybe the clinic was hoping that her complexion would improve before she saw it. “Is there anything else? The doctor doesn’t want me here long. You’ve got to rest.”

  “My... um...” She looked away in frustration and embarrassment.

  “No problem. Take your time.”

  She gasped down more air. “My water’s turned blue.”

  Before Luke could stop him, Malc said, “Please specify which water.”

  Luke put his hand on her arm. “Sorry. He’s only a computer. He doesn’t...” Turning towards Malc, Luke said quietly, “Her urine’s blue. Does that help?”

  “Confirmed,” Malc replied. “The symptoms match those following exposure to paraquat.”

  “Paraquat?”

  “It is a pesticide. Specifically, it is a herbicide used to kill broad-leaved weeds. It is toxic to humans by swallowing or skin contact.”

  “Not exactly what you’d expect – or want – in a swimming pool.” Affected by the plight of the likeable swimmer, Luke said to her, “I�
��ll let you know when I find out more. You take care, all right?”

  Brooke nodded gingerly.

  ****

  Apart from his constant companion, Luke stood alone in the swimming baths. The water, tinged blue and yellow, looked calm and inviting. Perhaps, though, its appearance belied its true nature. Perhaps a secret lurked below the peaceful surface. “Take a sample, Malc, and analyse it for paraquat – or any other pesticide or poison.”

  Malc drifted over the pool and then manoeuvred himself until he was hovering a few centimetres above the water. Creating a ring of ripples, he used a narrow tube to suck up a small volume of the liquid and then returned to Luke. “Electrophoresis starting,” he announced.

  Luke crinkled his nose. “What’s the smell?”

  It took Malc three minutes to reply. “The fumes are non-hazardous solvents used in the construction, mixed with by-products of the disinfectant used in the pool.”

  “The air’s safe then?”

  “Confirmed.”

  Without touching anything, Luke walked right around the long pool and the diving area. There were three entrances to this part of the baths. One was from the men’s changing rooms and another from the women’s. The third was for staff and officials. There was also a poolside emergency exit that could be opened from the inside. Access from the outside required the identity card of a member of staff, the emergency services or a forensic investigator.

  Malc announced the expected result. “The water is contaminated with a variety of poisons, the main component being paraquat. The highly toxic dioxin is also present. The mixture is too dilute to kill a human adult unless more than a litre is ingested, but it is sufficient to maim through skin contact.”

  Luke nodded. With the image of Brooke’s crinkled and discoloured face fresh in his mind, he added another trait to his list of possible saboteurs. He was looking for someone totally indifferent to the suffering of others. And he was now certain that he had a case of sabotage.

  The number of accidents had already stretched his belief in coincidence. Now, the poisoning of Brooke Adams sent it well beyond breaking point because paraquat and dioxin could hardly have got into the water unintentionally. The polluting of the baths was an attack on Brooke and any other swimmer. It was the first clear instance of deliberate disruption and it raised in Luke’s mind the horrible prospect that the saboteur was stepping up the campaign against the Hounslow regeneration.

  “This changes everything,” he said. “No doubt about deliberate acts now. Try and find out when the pool was filled, Malc. That’ll pin down the timescale for lacing the water.”

  “Searching.”

  “I know a thousand builders have been in and out, I know everything’s covered in traces, but scan doorways anyway. Log everything in case we find the same thing at another site. That’d be helpful, to say the least.”

  “I cannot confirm that a thousand builders have entered the Aquatic Centre. It may be fewer or more.”

  “Never mind,” Luke muttered. “I’ll tell you what we need now we’ve definitely got a crime. A codename for whoever’s doing it. I’ll call him or her Spoilsport. All right?”

  “Codename entered.”

  “When you’ve finished here, we’re going to Greenwich. I want to find out what Owen and Jed have got to say.”

  Chapter Four

  Luke took a cab to Isleworth and swiped his identity card through the quayside reader. Boarding a riverboat, he asked for North Greenwich. A cruiser on the Thames was a surer and safer option than an electric cab into central London. Cabs were more likely to be ambushed by bandits and a lot of freeways and corridors were blocked by trees and shrubs that had broken through the tarmac. In places, the power had been cut by out-of-control wildlife or collapsed buildings, and some bridges had fallen down.

  Luke stood at the prow of the cruiser as the on-board computer navigated the tortuous turns of the Thames. He was looking forward to seeing Owen and Jed again but he felt sad as he watched a succession of shoddy and flood-damaged areas of London slip past.

  At his side, Malc reported, “According to data on the site manager’s computer, the Hounslow swimming pool was filled with water fifteen days ago.”

  Luke groaned. “So it could have been poisoned for a couple of weeks. If that’s right, there’s no hope of getting any clean evidence.” He shook his head and brushed some stray hairs away from his face. “Check with herbicide suppliers for any unusual orders of paraquat. Or theft.”

  “Searching.”

  When the riverboat surged under Westminster Bridge, Luke felt like ducking down and covering his head with his hands – just in case. The structure was on its last legs but something solid was stopping it tumbling into the Thames.

  A few more twists and turns and the cruiser powered down as it passed the huge battered warehouse. The boat glided up to the jetty and engaged automatically with the attachments. Wasting no time, Luke jumped ashore and made for the sports club.

  As soon as the kids saw him, they recognized him as an FI because of his Mobile Aid to Law and Crime. A number of them ran away. They didn’t want to be questioned about how they came to be at the converted dome. Really, it was habit that made them shy of investigators. Luke posed no threat to them because he’d made sure that The Authorities approved of the Greenwich club. It was no longer against the law to skip school and meet there for training.

  “Hi,” Luke said to Owen with a smile.

  Owen put his hands on his hips and sighed heavily. “You’re still frightening kids.”

  Luke could tell from Owen’s face that he wasn’t really annoyed. “My speciality. Sorry.”

  “You won’t catch them. Jed’s got them trained up champion.”

  In Owen and Jed’s unlikely partnership, Owen provided youthful enthusiasm and Jed the expertise. Both had credibility with the kids but, importantly, Jed had credibility with The Authorities because he was a sporting hero. His fifteen-hundred metres record set at York Races still stood.

  The two boys walked further into the monstrous dome. “Whenever we get together,” Luke said, “there’s always a disaster lurking somewhere. It started with a lost bullet in your shoe...”

  Owen interrupted with a grin. “Wasn’t lost to me. It was in my heel. Still got the hole to prove it. Wasn’t much of a disaster, either. I didn’t get killed and you got the bad guy. With my help.”

  “You also persuaded me to double check Everton Kohter’s death sentence.”

  “You cracked that. No disaster, with my help again. And I got you a clue in your Emily Wonder case.”

  “So, how are you going to help me catch whoever’s trying to ruin the International Youth Games?”

  Owen shrugged. “Didn’t know I was going to.”

  Jed joined them, asking, “Is that what it is? Someone trying to bring the Games down?” He was plainly appalled.

  “Yes.”

  With a grin, Owen said, “Some of our kids would love to see the Hounslow stadium come crashing down.” Realizing that the other two were much more serious, he added, “Not really, like. Just... dreaming.”

  “Why?” Luke asked.

  “Because they think the Games would have to move here.”

  Jed shook his head. “And that’s why it’s fantasy. Silly talk. The roof leaks, no seating for spectators, no decent transport, hopeless lighting, and don’t get me started on the state of the changing rooms. We haven’t even got rid of all the sludge from the tsunami flood or replaced the panels it ripped away. Let’s get real. The Hounslow Games have got to go ahead,” he said. “You mustn’t let anything stand in their way. They’re the most important thing. They’re a sign of hope, that someone cares. Something for youngsters to aim for. I wish I was their age again. I’d love to be part of it, competing against the best.”

  At the far end, a noisy game of baseball was underway. Several young people were jogging round the newly laid indoor track. A few sprinters were practising their starts down one side and a lan
ky boy threw himself up and arched impressively over the high-jump bar. Two girls were playing darts on the right. There were archery targets as well, but no one was using them at the moment. They reminded Luke of competitions at his school. He had a knack for almost any sport that required careful aim and he used to beat everyone at archery.

  He said, “You were both in the stadium when the scaffold came down. What did you see?”

  “Nothing,” Owen answered. “Just... you know. Two blokes falling.” Grimacing, he added, “Not nice.”

  “Was there anyone else up near them? Someone who didn’t fall?”

  “We weren’t watching the builders,” Jed explained. “A lad was finishing the marathon. Ford Drayton. That’s what we’d got our eyes on. Like everyone else. He came in near the national record. There was an inquiry after the race, but the clock and route were spot on. He’ll be in the Games now. Something strange is going on there. If you ask me, you should investigate Ford Drayton as well as the accident.”

  “Nothing showed up on LAPPED, either,” Owen added. “So it’s not drugs.”

  Trying to keep to the point, Luke said, “When the platform gave way, you must’ve looked up. What did you see?”

  “The airship,” Owen answered. “And the bits and pieces coming down.”

  “An airship,” Luke muttered. “Interesting.” He gazed at Jed, prompting another answer.