heavy cardboard boxes believed to contain sugar and some carrier bags of mint, all of which went into the storeroom. They were still there at 7 p.m. and, so far, nobody had seen them leave the premises.
'And what are your areas of concern in all that?'
'We have witnesses to the arrivals and departures of all these people,' said Falcon. 'But we haven't been able to make contact with the electrician. In order to get this done as quickly as possible I've asked my squad, who are already overloaded with interview work, to coordinate with local police and get them to visit every electrician's outlet or workshop within a square kilometre of the explosion. So far we've come up with nothing. All we know is that three men arrived in a blue transit van with no markings and we have no witnesses for the registration number.'
'Do you want the media to make an announcement?' asked Elvira.
'Not yet. I want to do more footwork on this.'
'What else?'
'I have other members of my squad tied up interviewing the Informaticalidad sales reps. None of them has come back to me with anything significant, but I have yet to talk to them and find out what the story was there.'
'Is that it?'
'My greatest concern at the moment, apart from the undiscovered electrician, is that the council have no record of sending any inspectors to the mosque, or any other part of this building, or even this barrio, on Friday 2nd June, or any day, for that matter, in the last three months.'
15
Seville-Tuesday, 6th June 2006, 19.55 hrs
Before the three men left the bombsite for the night, Calderon gave an update on the deaths and injuries. Four children had died of head wounds and internal bleeding in the pre-school. Seven children had been seriously wounded-ranging from the loss of a leg below the knee to severe facial lacerations. Eighteen children had been lightly wounded, mainly cut by flying glass. Two men and a woman who had been passing by the building on Calle Los Romeros had been killed, either by flying debris or falling masonry. An elderly woman had died of a heart attack in an apartment across the road. There were thirty-two seriously injured people, who had been either inside, or around, buildings close to the stricken block and there were three hundred and forty-three lightly injured. From the rubble they had so far removed two men and two women who were dead and young Lourdes Alanis, who had survived. The list of missing in the mosque, including the Imam, numbered thirteen. Apart from them this gave a total so far of twelve dead, thirty-nine seriously injured and three hundred and sixty-one lightly injured.
The demolition crews were now removing the remaining slabs of concrete from what had been the fifth floor. The whole area was under floodlights as they prepared to work all night. An air-conditioned tent had been erected on some wasteground between the pre-school and another block of apartments to handle forensic evidence. Another tent was being erected to deal with the bodies and body parts, which would eventually be coming out of the crushed mosque. The judges, homicide squad, forensics and emergency services had worked out a duty roster, so that there would be someone on site all night from each group.
It was still light and very warm as Elvira, Falcon and Calderon left the pre-school just before 8 p.m. A group of people had gathered in a corner of the playground. Hundreds of candles flickered on the ground amidst bouquets of flowers. Banners and placards had been pinned up on the chain-link fencing-No mas muertes. Paz. Solo los inocentes han caido. Por el derecho de vivir sin violencia-No more death. Peace. Only the innocents have fallen. For the right to live without violence. But the largest banner of all was written in red against a white background-ODIO ETERNO AL TERRORISMO-Eternal Hate to Terrorism. In the bottom right-hand corner was written VOMIT. Falcon asked if anybody had seen the person who had unfurled this banner, but nobody had. It was this banner which had drawn people to that part of the playground and so it had become a natural place for the locals to pay tribute to the fallen.
They stood in the violet light of a sun that was beginning to set on this catastrophic day and, with the machinery inexorably clawing away at the piled rubble, their murmured prayers, guttering candles and the already wilting flowers were both pathetic and touching, as pitiful and moving as the futile deaths of all humans in the vast grotesqueness of war. As the lawmen backed away from the shrine, Elvira's mobile rang. He took the call and handed it to Falcon. It was Juan from the CNI, saying that they had to meet tonight. Falcon said he would be home in an hour. The hospital was calm after the frenetic activity of the day. In the emergency room they were still picking glass out of people's faces and suturing lacerations. There were patients in the waiting room, but there was no longer the horror of the triage nurse wading through the victims, skidding on blood, looking into the wide, dark eyes of the injured, silently pleading. Falcon showed his police ID and asked for Lourdes Alanis, who was in the intensive care unit on the first floor.
Through the glass panels of the intensive care unit Fernando was visible at his daughter's bedside, holding her hand. She was hooked up to machines but seemed to be breathing on her own. The doctor in the ICU said she was making good progress. She had sustained a broken arm and a crushed leg, but no spinal injuries. Their main concern had been her head injuries. She was still in a coma, but a scan had revealed no evidence of brain damage or haemorrhaging. As they talked, Fernando left the ICU to go to the toilet. Falcon gave him a few minutes and went in after him. He was washing his hands and face.
'Who are you?' he asked, looking at Falcon via the mirror, suspicious, knowing he wasn't a doctor.
'We met earlier today by your apartment block. My name is Javier Falcon. I'm the Inspector Jefe of the homicide squad.'
Fernando frowned, shook his head; he didn't remember.
'Does this mean that you've caught the people who destroyed my family?'
'No, we're still working on that.'
'You won't have to look very far. That rat hole is crawling with them.'
'With who?'
'Fucking Moroccans,' he said. 'Those fucking bastards. We've been looking at them all this time, ever since 11th March, and we've been thinking…when's the next time going to be. We always knew that there was going to be a next time.'
'Who is 'we'?'
'Alright, me. That's what I've been thinking,' said Fernando. 'But I know I'm not alone.'
'I didn't think the relations between the communities were so bad,' said Falcon.
'That's because you don't live in 'the communities',' said Fernando. 'I've seen the news, full of nice, comfortable people telling you that everything is all right, that Muslims and Catholics are communicating, that there's some kind of 'healing process' going on. I can tell you, it's all bullshit. We live in a state of suspicion and fear.'
'Even though you know that very few members of the Muslim population are terrorists?'
'That's what we're told, but we don't know it,' said Fernando. 'And what's more, we have no idea who they are. They could be standing next to me in the bar, drinking beer and eating jamon. Yes, you see, some of them even do that. Eat pig and drink alcohol. But it seems that they're just as likely to blow themselves up as the one who spends his life with his nose to the floor in the mosque.'
'I didn't come here to make you angry,' said Falcon. 'You've got enough to think about without that.'
'You didn't make me angry. I am angry. I've been angry a long time. Two years and three months I've been angry,' said Fernando. 'Gloria, my wife…'
He stopped. His face came apart. His mouth thickened with saliva. He had to support himself against the basin as the physical pain worked its way through. It took some minutes for him to pull himself together.
'Gloria was a good person. She believed in the good that exists in everyone. But her belief didn't protect her, it didn't protect our son. The people she spoke up for killed her, in the same way that they killed the ones they hate, and who hate them. Anyway, that's enough. I must get back to my daughter. I know you didn't have to come and find me here. You've got a lot on your plate. So I thank you for that…for your concern. And I wish you well in your investigation. I hope you find the killers before I do.'
