Fortress

28

Rolt was standing with a group of cops, some in uniform, others in hooded white overalls. Firemen were removing their kit. A group of noisy onlookers was being kept well away behind a tape. Some carried placards: Fuck off home and blow up your own people.

Rolt broke away and came towards Tom. ‘Care to have a look?’

Tom shook his head, disgusted by the carnage. ‘Expect the cops don’t want too many tramping around their crime scene.’

‘Yeah, but you’ve seen the effects of more bombs than any of them.’

‘It’s confirmed, then?’

He nodded, then shivered. ‘It’s only when you see it that the true horror hits you, doesn’t it?’

Rolt looked grey and drawn. Whatever anger he was feeling, he was doing his best to keep it at bay. ‘They’ve taken away some remains. They said they’re hopeful of getting an ID.’

Inside, the building was a mass of rubble, everything dripping wet from the fire hoses. Three floors had collapsed in on themselves. They stepped aside as two men in hard hats with lamps attached came through with a body-bag on a stretcher.

‘How many casualties?’

‘Five dead. Fourteen critical, three unaccounted for. A few hours later, the canteen would have been full and the toll would have been triple that.’

Tom stood on a plastic sheet that covered the foyer floor. ‘How many explosions?’

‘Just the one, far as we know. The fractured gas pipes did the rest.’

‘Any ideas on how the guy got so far into the building?’

‘One witness claims they heard shots before the blast. The police think he may have shot his way in.’

‘Any weapon recovered?’ Tom surveyed the wreckage with a wearily practised eye. The bomber would have to have been a giant to carry the weight of bang to make a hole that big. This wasn’t some random attack.

‘Sorry I dragged you up here.’

‘Not a problem. And since I’m here, I could look in on that guy Blakey I told you about.’

‘Let me come with you. I’m only getting in the way here.’