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“He needs to pay for what he’s done.”
“Fuck him!” shouted Briggs, “we need to save our own skins.”
One of the roof beams fell down behind the pole on which Laura had been standing. No further warning was necessary. All four of them tramped through the thick earth underfoot, finally making it to the steps of the opera house. As they almost fell down them, a creak and a slam made Gardener glance behind him. The only door that had ever been available for entry and exit had slammed shut.
Corndell had planned everything down to the last detail.
But what had happened to him; where the hell was he?
Ga
rdener bent forward with his hands on his knees, breathless, unable to believe how lucky they had been.
“Stewart, move yourself, for God’s sake,” shouted Briggs.
Like an alarm in his head, he realised that if Corndell had triggered the opera house doors to lock, he may well have triggered the main doors of the building in the event that they had foiled him.
Gardener and the others bolted for the entrance. The doors were still open. Once on the street, they ran across it to where their cars had been parked, and Briggs called the fire brigade on his mobile.
Epilogue
It was close to midnight when the fire chief pronounced the warehouse safe and secure. Standing a little way from the two officers, Gardener heard the conversation between the chief and his colleagues. The building had been reduced to a shell.
All four of them had sat beside the car listening to the cracking and banging as the timber joists fell, the windows exploding as the fire raged out of control.
A crowd had gathered shortly before the fire services had arrived, some of them asking if they were okay. God only knew the impression they must have given. One of the assembled onlookers had even gone to a burger bar around the corner and brought back tea and coffee and snacks for them.
Laura and Sean had stuck together like glue, before he had finally taken her home around nine-thirty. The pair of them had had enough.
“You never did tell me where Sean had got to,” said Gardener to Briggs.
His superior officer was a picture: the lenses of his glasses were so thickly coated with grime it must have been impossible to see through them, his face had been covered in soot and soil, and even a vagrant would have turned his nose up at the clothes he was wearing. But he figured he hadn’t fared any better himself.
“I wasn’t really sure myself,” said Briggs, taking a sip of coffee. “When we got out of the car, he told me to go inside. He said that if Corndell saw all of us together, he would have the advantage. And he would probably be cocky enough to think that we were stupid enough not to have split up.”
Briggs paused, staring at the shell of the burnt-out warehouse. “He also said he would be much more use to Laura if he couldn’t see the state she was in. At least he wouldn’t be distracted.”
Briggs glanced at Gardener. “He was on a mission, Stewart. I’ve never seen determination like it. Even if I’d argued with him it wouldn’t have mattered, he’d have done what he wanted anyway. As it was, I didn’t get time, he was away around the building well before I had chance to think about what he’d said.”
Gardener remained silent, thinking about what his partner had told him regarding the situation in the box. He’d handcuffed Corndell to the side to prevent him from escaping or grabbing the lever to inflict further pain on Laura. The position Corndell had ended up in had been unfortunate. He’d become a victim of his own games. None of them could have known he’d planted explosives.
Gardener thought about him being trapped in the box. Surely he couldn’t have escaped.
Could he?
The fire chief approached them both. “Which one of you is in charge?”
“I am,” replied Briggs.
“Fire Officer Marshall.” He shook hands with Briggs. “Everything’s safe and sound for tonight. The council will be here in the morning and decide what further safety measures to take.”
“Did you find the body?” asked Gardener.
“Body?” repeated Marshall.
“Yes, I’m afraid we couldn’t save him,” said Gardener, his heart in his mouth. Surely the bastard had died. There couldn’t possibly have been any escape.
The expression on Marshall’s face was not a good one. “We found three.”
