“No. No, they didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“They didn’t have time to look.” Bryant clambered to his feet and searched the stacks of books balanced on crates around the edges of his desk. “They couldn’t conduct a proper search, because later that day – ” He pulled out a volume on the history of the London Underground and threw it open. “You see what I’m getting at?”
“Oh, no,” said Longbright softly.
Bryant stabbed a finger at the page. “November 18, 1987, was the date of the King’s Cross fire.”
“The boy’s name was Jonas Ketch. The bench – ”
“The place where he last sat and talked to his father. I asked Dan to print up the shots of Mr Fox’s room. What did I do with them?” Bryant found the sheaf of photographs and laid them out. “There it is.”
The photograph showed the missing picture of the red metal bench. “It looks like the boy saw his old man commit suicide right in front of him. Just an ordinary metal tube station bench, but the background of tiles – that has to be King’s Cross before it was redecorated.”
“So he took his son there,” said Longbright, “sat him down and talked to him. Then he rose, walked to the edge of the platform and dropped under the wheels of the incoming train.”
“Jonas Ketch’s father died on November 18, 1987, just three and a half hours before the King’s Cross fire. Hang on.”
Bryant turned the page of his reference book and read. “No-one was ever able to discover exactly how the fire began, but they think someone dropped a lit match down the side of the escalator. It was one of the old wooden ones, and was covered in grease embedded with bits of paper and human hair that caught alight almost instantly. Thirty-one people died, and another sixty were seriously injured. There had been a number of small fires at the site before, but this one spread in a completely new way. The escalator had steel sides and the flames rose at an angle that created the perfect conditions for something called the Trench Effect. An intense blast of flame that turned the ticket hall into an incinerator.”
“You think it was the boy.” Longbright was appalled.
“After seeing his father killed, he burned the station down in an act of fury.”
“My God.”
“It fits with everything we know, and would explain why death means so little to him.” Bryant returned to the laptop. “Show me how to do this.”
“Don’t touch that, let me do it. What are you after?”
“The names of all the fire victims.”
The list of those who died that day was public knowledge, and it took no time to locate a memorial site. “That’s why he wants to silence Tony McCarthy,” said Bryant, sitting back. “It has nothing to do with the time they spent together at Pentonville. There’s a Jim McCarthy listed as one of the victims of the King’s Cross fire. Tony McCarthy’s prison file lists his parents as James and Sharon McCarthy. Suppose when they first met, Mr Fox – ”
“Real name, Jonas Ketch.”
“Ketch accidentally revealed a little too much of himself. Suppose Mac realised that as a boy Ketch had committed an act of arson.”
“Killing McCarthy’s father in the process.”
“It puts the case on an entirely different footing. You’d better make sure Renfield’s there when Tony McCarthy comes out of UCH, and stays by him wherever he goes.”
“This is my case, Arthur,” Longbright pleaded. “Let me do it. For Liberty’s sake.”
“No, it’s too dangerous. I want you to switch with Renfield and take one of the students.”
“That’s not fair, and you know it. You owe me this.”
“Janice, your mother died trying to lure a criminal out into the open. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you risk your life as well? Put Renfield on it. I want you to stay right here, where I can keep an eye on you.”
Longbright stormed out of the detectives’ room. Back in the corridor, she walked past Jack Renfield’s office, stopping only to grab her jacket.
? Off the Rails ?
42
Sleight of Hand
“Hillingdon’s overcoat,” said Bryant, wandering into the Crime Scene Manager’s room, “the oily patches are tobacco spray.” He looked very pleased with himself.
“How did you know?” Banbury asked. “The results only just came back. I was about to come and see you.”
“The killer didn’t forget the coat, he planted it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone in that house has been a bit too clever for their own good. The principles of magic; if you see the impossible happen, it isn’t impossible. You’ve been tricked.”
“Sorry, Mr Bryant, I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“You can only disappear from a moving train carriage if you were never on it in the first place.”
“Do you want me to get John before I go?” Banbury made it sound as if he was offering to fetch a nurse for a rambling patient.
“No, go and keep an eye on – who did you draw this time?”
“The girl – Ruby Cates. Giles is covering for me until I get there. I’m going to make her take that cast off.”
“Go on, relieve him.” Bryant waited for the door to shut, then turned back to Professor Hoffman’s book of card tricks. Holding it open with his left hand, he attempted to shuffle a fresh pack with his right, and sprayed cards all over the floor.
¦
Outside in the corridor, John May saw a ghost. The sight brought him up short and chilled the blood in his veins. Fearful of seeing the sight again, he slowly walked back and turned around.
Liberty DuCaine was sitting on an orange plastic chair in the hall, reading a copy of
May looked at DuCaine, and DuCaine gave him a friendly smile back. “I’m here to see Janice Longbright,” he said cheerfully.
“Is she…expecting you?” asked May.
“Yeah, I’m Fraternity – Liberty’s brother?”
Now May saw the differences between the pair. Fraternity’s eyes were a little more deep-set and thoughtful. He was bulkier, with a dense neck and arms like heavy copper pipes. The black gym shirt under his tracksuit said
“Sorry, I’m a little late. Some kind of problem with the Northern Line.” When he rose, Fraternity stood a full head above May.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take you to her office.” May wondered why Henley had turned him down, if DuCaine had achieved good grades. Despite the guidelines set by the Equal Opportunity Commission, physically imposing males were always useful on the street.
May pushed open the door to Longbright’s office and found it empty, her coat gone. “It looks like she’s nipped out,” he said. “Do you mind waiting?”
“No problem.” Fraternity walked around the room, taking it in. “She said she had some information about my case. I appreciate the help.”
“I’ll have to leave you here until she gets back. We’re having a very difficult day.” May headed to his own office, and found Bryant on his hands and knees, picking up playing cards.
“I see you’re hard at work on the investigation, then,” he said.
“I am, actually. I know how Matthew Hillingdon was able to vanish from a moving train. Obviously, I had a
