Fatal Connection

by Malcolm Rose

  Before the car reached its destination, Troy made the final arrangements through his life-logger and mobile phone.

  When they arrived, he talked to Lexi again using the microphone attached to his coat. ‘In position,’ he reported. ‘What about you?’

  Through his earpiece, she said, ‘Skirting round the pool, trying not to fall in the water or down the rock. We’ll be ready any second now.’

  ‘Watch out for sabotage or whatever.’

  With humour and barely a trace of nervousness in her voice, she replied, ‘We’re going into a mine. What could possibly go wrong?’

  ‘You’re right. It’s not like you’re going to come across anything dangerous like pickaxes, unstable rocks, explosives …’

  ‘If you’re ready up there, we’re going in.’

  Troy looked around. Soon, they would lose all remnants of sunlight. For now, the sky provided a faint and eerie orange glow. He shivered. He didn’t know if he felt uneasy because of his injuries, the plunging temperature or uncertainty about what they were doing. ‘Ready,’ he said.

  Five high-power torches cast wavering beams of light into the cavity. Addressing her team, Lexi asked, ‘Are we all okay with this?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She glanced around their patchily lit faces. ‘The only people I want with me are ones who fancy it. You’re all volunteers. You’re free to go if you want.’

  None of them made a move.

  ‘Good. Keep a lookout for anything. This isn’t just about finding two people. It’s about finding anything they might have left behind if they’re not here. Okay? I don’t mind how many false alarms we have. We stop for anything remotely suspicious. We all know what they’re capable of.’ She didn’t need to explain that she was referring to the destruction of the local police headquarters.

  Cautiously, they stepped inside and began to creep along the rough tunnel in the rock face. To Lexi, it felt even more suffocating and smelly this time. The extra light helped, but it was also off-putting. An officer behind her would catch her figure in a light beam and her elongated silhouette would dance uncannily down the cave. There was more illumination but there were also more unexpected shadows. More unnerving movements. And the odd noise from the rest of the squad made them all jittery.

  In Lexi’s ear, Troy’s voice asked, ‘Still receiving me?’

  ‘This is where I normally say no,’ Lexi whispered, ‘but I don’t feel in the mood for joking.’

  ‘Are you all okay down there?’

  ‘Yeah. Having a picnic. Nothing to report yet.’

  Two torch beams focused on the few tools that Lexi had left behind last time. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I know about them. Crack on.’

  Then she halted. Behind her, the others did the same.

  ‘Did anyone else hear that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t know. Like a pulse. A beating.’

  It was obvious that Lexi was the only one to pick out the sound. Or maybe it was her imagination.

  They carried on slowly, heading towards the hole in the roof of the cave.

  ‘Here’s something.’ At least three of the spotlights converged on a can of fuel.

  Lexi edged towards it, but didn’t attempt to reach out and touch it. Into her microphone, she said softly, ‘A can of petrol. Probably empty.’ To her team, she said, ‘We want this. We’ll come back for it but no one goes up to it now. We can’t be sure it’s not booby-trapped.’

  Creeping as quietly as possible, the team walked through a watery section of the cavity as it began to rise up gently. Lexi thought that the vertical shaft would be visible soon, but there was no tell-tale sunshine this time to reveal its position.

  A tiny glinting in the wall of the cave hinted at its potential for yielding gemstones and minerals. But Lexi wasn’t drawn to jewellery. She was focused entirely on the case, the hunt for two clear suspects.

  One beam of light caught the distant dangling rope and another picked out a discarded box of matches in the middle of the passageway.

  ‘Some matches, now,’ Lexi muttered for Troy’s benefit.

  ‘I’m worried,’ Troy said directly into her ear.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘In case someone’s laid a trail. Like bits of cheese to get a mouse to go where you want it to go.’

  ‘Noted.’

  With a wave of a finger, Lexi indicated to her team that she wanted to continue.

  She managed four more steps before she froze. ‘I’m sure I can hear something. Not trickling water. Something else.’

  Behind her, someone said, ‘Me too.’

  There was definitely a strange distant rushing noise.

  It didn’t remain distant. The sound soon amplified. Something or someone was thundering ominously along the cave.

  In Lexi’s ears, it was as obvious and deadly as a train. She dived to the ground. Behind her, the rest of the team did the same.

  Above them, hundreds and hundreds of bats surged through the foul air, wings fluttering, eager to begin their nightly hunt over the valley.

  Lying still on the wet rock, Lexi told Troy, ‘It’s okay. Just bats. Billions of them.’

  And that was the last thing she said. Further along the cave, one bat flew into the tripwire intended for human beings. It triggered a massive explosion.

  At the top of the shaft, the four police officers stepped back from the hole and covered their faces. The shockwave smashed the cage against the winch and shattered it. Fragments of the basket, stones, dead bats, and clouds of dust blasted into the night air. Rope flew out of the hole like a snake. It seemed that an angry Earth was spewing out parts of itself.

  Then the debris rained down on them like hailstones. One officer cried out as a bat’s body hit his neck and shoulder. In seconds, though, it was over. Only a grey haze hung over the mineshaft, like smoke mushrooming over an exhausted volcano.

  Troy put his hand to his earpiece and strained to hear the slightest suggestion of a human voice. It didn’t come. There were three thuds and nothing else. He turned off the microphone.

  After the initial shock, one of the police officers made for the jeep, clearly intending to call for ambulances. But Troy called softly, ‘No. Come back. We’re all going to lie down here and not make a sound.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I want the suspects to think they’ve succeeded. If we’re all dead, there’s no one to call an ambulance.’

  They followed Troy’s example and laid themselves on the rocky ground but one of them complained, ‘What about the others?’ He tapped his own ear while nodding towards Troy’s. ‘Have you heard anything?’

  Troy shook his head. ‘Radio silence. In case anyone’s hacked us and is listening in.’

  ‘But they need help.’

  ‘No,’ Troy replied. ‘They’re okay. Lexi gave me the signal. Three taps on the microphone. They’re playing dead. Like us. Now keep quiet and still, but listen and watch.’

  Every single road in the area was blocked by the police. Out at sea, a boat was patrolling the coast. Northern harbours and train stations were under surveillance. Both airports serving the north of the country were on high alert. This clampdown was what Troy had arranged during his ride to Loose End Edge.

  If he didn’t catch Nigel Edwin Thirty-One and Zoe Olivia Three on Loose End Edge, he hoped that one of the transport units would conclude the arrest.

  Nigel Thirty-One and Zoe Three emerged from nowhere, it seemed. Zoe held a torch and flashed it at each of the four victims lying near the top of the shaft. Without a word of regret, they weaved their way among the dead and glanced down the concealed mineshaft. Directing the torch beam down the hole, Zoe said, ‘What a mess.’

  ‘But it’s over,’ Nigel replied. ‘They’re gone.’

  The couple exchanged a self-satisfied smile and a kiss. Then they turned to go and jumped in fright.

  In front of them, Detective Troy Goodhart said, ‘Not entirely gone.’

  Nigel stiffen
ed with shock – and possibly humiliation. Zoe made a run for it. She didn’t get far. One of Troy’s team stayed low and brought her down gleefully with a perfectly executed rugby tackle.

  Troy turned on his microphone again and said, ‘Two arrested on suspicion of arson and attempted murder. Are you all okay down there?’

  At first there was no response, but then Lexi replied, ‘How many bruises do I have to get before I’m classed as not okay?’

  Troy sighed with relief. The sound of his partner’s voice was priceless. ‘North of what you’ve got, I should think. What about the others?’

  ‘All walking wounded. A couple of nasty cuts from flying lumps of rock – and more bruises. Lucky we were lying down at the time – and nowhere near the source of the blast.’ She hesitated. ‘You know, I have a newfound respect for bats. They’re great. And I don’t care how much toileting they do, how they do it and how smelly it is.’

  Troy laughed. ‘See you soon.’

  SCENE 34

  Thursday 15th May, Morning

  Troy had refreshed himself with a long, sound sleep at home in Shepford. Lexi had meditated much more than usual in an attempt to heal her aching body. In between periods of relaxation, she’d had the two prisoners transported separately to Shepford Crime Central and examined the latest forensic results from Zoe Three’s home. By dawn, she was ready to support her partner as he attempted to close the case.

  Troy decided to question Nigel Thirty-One first because he was probably the weaker of the two characters. In a sparse interview room, Troy sat opposite the silver-haired suspect as Lexi prowled back and forth.

  ‘You should know before we begin,’ Troy said, hoping to demoralize the geologist, ‘that I’m going to charge you with a minimum of two crimes. I’ve got all the evidence I need. And that’s before we think about what you did last night. You’re not going to get up and walk out of here after our chat.’ Nigel sneered. ‘You’re bluffing. You’ve got no evidence.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Because I heard there was a fire.’

  Troy put a hand to his ear theatrically. ‘I can’t hear the sound of wheels coming off this line of inquiry.’ He gazed at Nigel and said, ‘You don’t understand how it works. You destroyed the physical evidence all right but – you should know better than me – outers work around the clock. Lexi and a whole bunch of forensic scientists found out lots before you burned the place down. The results are still valid even if the evidence has turned to ash. And, yes, one of the charges will be arson. Tight End Crime Central isn’t the only place that has cameras.’

  ‘I still think you’re bluffing. I bet the computer’s not working.’

  ‘You’re right. It’s not,’ Troy told him. ‘But the same information’s stored on the life-loggers of all detectives working on the case.’ He tapped the device attached to his waist. ‘I’ve got a copy and Lexi’s life-logger survived almost intact. Believe me, the best you can hope for are charges of arson and attempted murder.’

  Nigel folded his arms tightly across his chest.

  ‘Why did you poison Richard Featherstone, Alyssa Bending, Miley Quist and Keaton Hathaway?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Nigel stated bluntly. ‘No way. You’ve got the wrong end of the stick.’

  ‘Why did you tear some pages out of Keaton Hathaway’s diary?’

  ‘It’s funny you should mention him.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Yes. Because he’s the man you want. He came to Loose End, volunteered to work with us and got overexcited. Stupid. He spilled a whole load of mercury into the pool. Nearly put us out of business. That’s how people got poisoned. Nothing to do with us.’

  Troy barely reacted to Nigel’s revelation. He merely raised his eyebrows. ‘When you say us, do you mean you and Zoe Olivia Three?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Tell me about Zoe. What part did she play in all this?’

  He shrugged. ‘She helps me.’

  ‘She’s an equal partner?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  ‘And will she confirm what you just said about Keaton Hathaway?’

  ‘I don’t see why not.’

  Troy stood up. ‘I’ll go and find out.’

  On the other side of the main corridor through Shepford Crime Central, Zoe Olivia Three sat bolt upright, oozing confidence. There was an ugly bruise and graze on the left side of her face where her head had hit the rock as she tried to evade arrest.

  Troy pointed to her wound and asked, ‘Are you satisfied you’ve had enough medical treatment for that?’

  She stared at him maliciously but said nothing.

  ‘I’ll take it that you’re happy with it. Do you play a full part in Nigel Thirty-One’s gold-mining business?’

  ‘No. He does it, not me.’

  ‘So, if he blamed you for poisoning people with mercury …?’

  ‘What? He’s lying.’

  Troy put up a hand. ‘I didn’t say he did. I was just wondering. Do you do any mining at all, then?’

  ‘No. Nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Where does he get mercury from?’

  She shrugged.

  ‘What about Tight End Recycling Facility?’

  She shrugged again.

  ‘Didn’t you work there?’

  ‘For a bit.’

  ‘So, you’d know where they keep a stock of it.’

  She didn’t reply.

  ‘You supplied him with it. There’s a forensic team in TERF, so we’ll soon prove it.’

  ‘I had nothing to do with digging for gold,’ she insisted.

  If Troy didn’t know better, he might have been convinced by her performance. He twisted round towards his partner. ‘Lexi?’

  ‘We have samples of your hair,’ she said. ‘It matches two hairs we found on one of the helmets. Same colour, same DNA profile.’

  Troy added, ‘I don’t think hard-hats are in fashion right now, so how do you explain that? Why have you been wearing one?’

  ‘Can you show it to me?’

  ‘No. It was mangled in the fire.’

  ‘There you are, then. You can’t prove anything.’

  ‘We’ve got close-ups of the hair in the helmet. Very clear photographic evidence. We’ve got DNA profiles. They don’t go away when you destroy the evidence. And we have your activities last night. So it’s easy for us to show you were part of the mining operation.’

  This time, she kept silent.

  ‘Tell me. Who murdered Richard Featherstone, Alyssa Bending, Miley Quist and Keaton Hathaway?’

  ‘Not me,’ Zoe muttered.

  Troy smiled. ‘That’s what Nigel said as well. Not me.’

  Her expression became even more stony. ‘Are you saying he blamed me?’

  ‘Who was it?’

  ‘Keaton Hathaway himself. He was after gold and some other rocks. Not the tidiest man in the world.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Because …’

  ‘Because you worked alongside Nigel and Keaton – in your hard-hat. That’s how you know.’

  Her lips sealed tightly once more.

  ‘What did Keaton do to make you blame him?’

  ‘He knocked over a whole bucketful of mercury. Incredibly heavy. I don’t know how he could, but he did. It went everywhere – including all over him – but most of it would’ve ended up in the pool. Anyway, he had too much for a major.’

  ‘Did you tell him to go to hospital?’

  She shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t have listened. He carried on working, looking for gold, till he was too ill. Then he went home.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She did not answer.

  ‘Lexi tells me mercury itself isn’t dangerous if it doesn’t get inside a major’s body. It’d have to be injected or the vapour breathed in.’

  ‘Maybe Hathaway breathed too much of it.’

  ‘Are you sure you didn’t force it into him as some sort of punishment?’

&
nbsp; She stared directly at Troy. ‘You’re wrong. I already told you what happened. He poisoned himself, silly man.’

  ‘Why did Nigel trash some of Keaton Hathaway’s journal?’

  ‘We knew he was going to die. Nigel just wanted to make sure no one traced him back to Loose End.’

  Troy stood up. ‘All right. I’ve got the picture. Not the whole picture, but I’m ready. I’m going to bring Nigel in and tell you both what’s going to happen.’

  Troy and Lexi sat shoulder-to-shoulder. On the opposite side of the table, Nigel Edwin Thirty-One and Zoe Olivia Three waited, eager to hear that someone else was going to be held responsible for the four deaths.

  The light coming in through the window faded rapidly as if a huge storm was about to hit Shepford. Inside, the interview room suddenly seemed cold and dark. In the sky, the circle of the moon fitted precisely over the sun, blocking out its light and warmth.

  Lexi turned on the lamp. ‘Solar eclipse today. Only for a few minutes.’

  Troy remained focused. He took a deep breath. ‘Okay. You’ve both told me the same story. Independently. A clumsy Keaton Hathaway killed four people. One of them was himself.’

  Nigel and Zoe smiled at each other.

  ‘Of course, it’s an easy claim for the two of you to make. He’s dead. He can’t paint me a different picture. But I’m inclined to believe the basic idea. It fits. In ripping up his journal you were protecting your business. There are still some parts I’m not sure about. Like what happened after the mercury got spilt. Why didn’t Keaton get medical help? He was obsessive about rocks and things, so maybe he was too keen on finding gold to stop. Maybe he carried on working, thinking he was safe, not realizing the local river life was turning the mercury into something deadly for majors. Maybe he took too much mercury on-board trying to clear up his own mess. I don’t know what he was really like. Maybe he would have left, but you two didn’t let him. Maybe you poisoned him deliberately. I don’t know and I can’t trust either of you to tell me. But I agree that one of the victims was the culprit.’