“What does this plant produce?” West began, opening out her notebook and clicking a pen into life.
“Resins mostly. Thermoset resins.” She looked at them blankly. Black looked back even more so.
“What does that mean exactly?” West prompted.
“Fonchem makes resins for all sort of applications. Abrasives, adhesives, chemical intermediates, coatings – you name it.” She sipped her coffee. “We make some here, a lot more over on the mainland.”
“Is it…” West paused and thought. “Is it particularly high value? Does it pose a risk to the environment? Any reason you can think why the bomber might have targeted here?”
Watson also thought for a moment, but she came up blank.
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s OK.” West glanced at Jason, it was the same story as at the other bombing sites.
“There is the expansion though,” Watson went on, suddenly.
“Excuse me?”
“The site. Fonchem, that’s who I work for, who owns this site. They want to expand. Pretty much double it in size. There are quite a lot of local people who are opposed to it.”
“Anyone in particular? Have there been any threats?” Black asked at once, but Watson shook her head.
At that moment the door swung open, and Lieutenant Smith walked in, stamping his boots on the mat and blowing his hands. He looked for the two agents, and beckoned them over.
“Excuse me Ms Watson,” West said, as she got up.
She saw how Smith was looking at her cup of coffee, which she still held in her hand, so she offered it to the policeman, and he took a large gulp.
“Thanks. Your stainless steel pieces. You said he prepares carefully? You never find any forensic evidence on them? No DNA, no prints?”
“That’s right.” Black had joined them now too. “He’s meticulous.”
“Well he wasn’t this time. We got a print.”
The two FBI agents swung to look at each other. This was completely unexpected. A breakthrough in a case that had needed one for months.
“Can you run it?”
“Already have. I got the results here on my iPad. We’re not so backward on the island as you Quantico guys might think.”
West realized he’d been holding it in his hand the whole time, and now he clicked it on. “I got you a name too. Local man I’m sorry to say. Well, kid really. He’s only seventeen.”
Before she heard it, West felt a weird rush. Of foreboding. Like she already knew what name he was going to say. Though that was ridiculous. It couldn’t be.
“Name of Wheatley. Billy Wheatley.”
4
Five Months Earlier
“Come on Dad, we need to go!”
I’ve already got my stuff in Dad’s truck, and I’ve checked twice around the house to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. It feels weird though, knowing that I won’t be coming back here for months. Dad’s sitting at the kitchen table, his broad back turned away from me. He decided now was a good time to fix the little outboard motor we found abandoned by the side of the road. He’s got all the pieces laid out in front of him. But really he’s just doing it because he doesn’t want me to go.
“Come on, I can’t miss the ferry.”
“I could give you a lift across if you do,” Dad says.
“I’ve already bought a ticket.”
Dad hesitates. “Alright.” He puts down whatever it is he’s holding, and wipes his hands on a rag. “Alright. You got all your stuff?”
“In the truck.”
“You got your computer? Your books?”
I sigh. “Of course I’ve got my books.” I don’t even mention my computer, I’m not going to forget that. “And I’ve left instructions for what to do about the campaign. I’ve left the printer loaded and ready, so I can email through new posters as I make them and they’ll print automatically. If you could just take them and put them up, everywhere you can…”
“Yeah, I know.” Dad replies, turning to look at me now. This is my current project. There’s a stupid chemical company, up in the north of the island, that wants to expand, but if it does so it will destroy a sheltered bay which is a crucial nursery for seahorses. I’m trying to raise awareness so that it doesn’t get allowed.
“You won’t forget will you?”
He doesn’t answer for a second, but then shakes his head. “I won’t forget.”
For a second I feel really odd. I felt it earlier too, when I was upstairs and still in my room. Knowing it was the last time I’d see it in months. I glance at Dad and can see he’s feeling it too.
“Shit Billy. I just can’t believe you’re going to college. Already. It just doesn’t seem…” He glances back and his eyes are welling up a bit. He shakes his head. “It doesn’t seem five minutes ago that you were running around here, this wild little kid. Now you’re leaving home.”
I don’t answer for a moment. I can’t quite believe it myself. I’ve been looking forward to this for such a long time, and now it is finally here. “I’m not going far,” I say in the end.
He looks up and gives me a smile. “It’s a boat ride away.”
“Every where’s a boat ride away. From an island.”
He doesn’t answer this, so I go on. “And you have got a boat.” Dad’s work these days is taking tourists out to view whales and dolphins. I used to help him too, though he’s learned how to find them pretty good now on his own, so he doesn’t need me anymore, which has been useful as it’s freed me up for my projects. The campaign, and other ones, you know what I’m like.
Dad’s face breaks into a weak smile. Then he starts patting his pockets, like he’s looking for his keys. In response I hold them up.
“Here.” I toss them over and he catches them with both hands. But he thinks for a second then tosses them back.
“You drive Billy.”
I’m surprised by this. It took me a while to learn to drive, and I did accidentally bump into a few things – there
