Swan shook his head. ‘I’m afraid that just won’t do. If this turns out to be a murder enquiry, which is what we fear, then we’ll need more time to fully investigate the crime scene.’
Hallett stepped forward. ‘I’m afraid that the Ministry have insisted on this, Mr Swan. We are behind schedule with the tests as it is, so any further delays, could be a problem.’
Swan looked at the two policemen, then directed his query at Hallett. ‘Who in the Ministry of Supply, has authorised this?’
‘The Deputy Department Minister, Sir Nicholas Brown himself, has given this directive, I’m afraid, and he would also like his two inspectors back.’
Swan snapped back. ‘Does he indeed? Well, they cannot leave for the mainland just yet, not until we know, what we are dealing with. I think, I need to make a phone call.’
Hallett raised a hand. ‘Okay, chaps. You understand of course, I’m only just the messenger here? If you need me, I will be in my office, talking to Mr Mitchell, before I send the poor man home on leave for a while. I’ll also send someone along with your suits.’ Hallett opened the door and left the room.
Swan looked across at Dugdale. ‘Before we start with the interviews, let’s just familiarise ourselves with what we have so far. As I understand it, Kevin Powell, was with the Blockhouse team, prior to the test. I will need to see the tape of course, but Sergeant, your notes are most precise.’
Morris appreciated the compliment.
Swan continued: ‘So here is the list of our observation team. What we will need to establish is the duties and positions of each of these men, prior to the test. This should help us pinpoint our key witnesses, and if the post mortem should conclude murder, our suspects.’ Swan looked at his watch. ‘We will need to contact St Mary’s soon, and get an update.’
Dugdale cut in. ‘I’ll do that. I know Dr Sneddon, very well. I’ll ring the hospital now.’
The Consul pulled into a lay-by and came to an abrupt halt at a sign, showing directions to the rocket testing site. Inside the car, Trost looked at a map on his lap, then in German, spoke to his colleague. ‘We wait now. Falcon will appear, when he finishes his work for the day, which will be at five o’clock. We will need to move down the road, not to alert the transport convoy, which will be due soon,’ he added, recalling what the asparagus seller had told him.
Baumann agreed, and placing the car into gear, drove away from the sign to cruise further down the road, eventually coming to an abandoned parking area. He brought the car to a stop and turned off the engine.
Trost reached into his pocket and pulling out a used pack of playing cards, dealt them out for the two men to play a game of Gin Rummy, while they smoked cigarettes, with the windows wound down.
Almost an hour later, their game was interrupted, as a convoy consisting of two soft top Army Land Rovers, sandwiching a long AEG flatbed lorry, loaded with four large white cylindrical containers, passed them, turning off to the track road, leading to the rocket site.
At the main security gate, the driver of the first Land Rover, showed his pass. The gates were opened, and the convoy drove in to head down to the storage hangar; the doors had already been opened in anticipation of the convoy’s arrival. Once the lorry was inside, two men clad in white fire suits, shut the big green sliding metal doors and secured them.
Back at the parking area, Baumann cheered triumphantly, as he showed his winning hand to his colleague. Trost shook his head and swore in German. ‘That’s too many, you have won today. I’ve had quite enough, now.’
Trost looked at the clock on the dashboard. ‘Ach! We still have an hour.’
The big man looked to his right, spotting the sea. ‘Why don’t we go for a walk along the cliff? It is a nice afternoon.’ The two men climbed out of the car, lit cigarettes, and walked together towards the direction of the sea, enjoying their smoke.
Trost looked out at the calm blue water. ‘I’m beginning to feel a little sorry for Falcon. He will feel relieved to have got away, but when we meet him, I am hoping that he will not give us much trouble.’
Baumann walked to the cliff edge and looked down, pointing to a series of jagged rocks below. ‘I think, after you inject him, we wait for him to die, then bring his body here and drop him onto those rocks. They look like a perfect spot for a suicide.’ He gave a malicious sneer.
Dugdale put down the receiver and looked at Swan and Morris. ‘Well gents, it looks like we have a crime scene. Dr Sneddon, has just confirmed the cause of death to be a definite, blunt head trauma, caused by a rather heavy angled object, which according to the kinetic force evidence, is long enough for the murderer to have used a possible two-handed grip, to administer a single blow to the upper cranium, piercing the victim’s skull, resulting in a fatal haemorrhage. He said, that the impact radius of the wound itself, is four inches long. So, we are looking for the murder weapon to be about a foot and half long, or maybe two…,’
Dugdale suddenly stopped in mid-sentence, went over to the window and looked out as the sun reflected on the symmetrical white metal towers.
Of course.’ He exclaimed.
Swan looked at him quizzically. ‘What is it Inspector?’
‘Why didn’t I think of it earlier?’ Dugdale put his hand to his forehead. ‘The rocket clamp control lever, it’s missing from its mounting. At the time, we all thought that it might have been accidentally blasted over the cliff, during the test.’
Swan’s eyes widened. ‘There should be another identical one in the efflux chamber of Gantry 1. If you take it to the hospital, you could then check with Dr Sneddon, if we have a match.’
Dugdale stood up from his chair. ‘So, if the missing lever does turn out to be the murder weapon, then we can narrow down our list of suspects, to those who would be responsible for using it.’
Swan moved across the small room. ‘Okay, the ball game has just changed. No-one leaves this site, especially these members of the observation team. This is now officially a murder investigation.
We need to tell Hallett, so he can call a meeting.’
There was a knock at the door and Hallett’s secretary, Loretta Wilkins, wearing a beige coloured blouse, black skirt and long patterned cardigan, adjusted her glasses on the end of her nose, walked in; heels clattering on the hard-tiled floor. ‘Excuse me, Mr Swan, Mr Hallett has asked me to inform you, that Sir Nicholas has granted you complete jurisdiction here, and that you may detain Mr Hawkins and Mr Woodward, as long as you need to.’
Swan smiled. ‘Thank you, Miss Wilkins, and please extend my thanks to Mr Hallett. Will it be possible to have the personnel files of all the observation team, who were in the Blockhouse, during the test? Here is the list.’ He handed it to her and she scrutinised the list. ‘No problem, Mr Swan, I will bring them to you in about ten minutes.’ Having overheard Dugdale’s last sentence, before entering the room, she could no longer contain herself; standing with her back to the door, she burst into tears.
The two policemen looked at each other bewilderingly. ‘How the devil, did you manage to swing that?’ Dugdale wondered.
‘Let’s just say, that I have some friends in some very high places.’
Swan then paced the floor. ‘Right, Inspector. You and I will get these suits and hats on, take a walk down to Gantry One, and retrieve this lever, and while we are out there, I also wouldn’t mind having a look around our crime scene.’ He looked over at Morris. ‘Sergeant, could you wait here for Miss Wilkins to return with the files? When I come back, I will help you go through them, while the Inspector, runs the lever down to the hospital.