‘Is there any pattern?’
‘That’s what gave me the clue that there might be more trouble in store at Tower Street. Over in the Province, this AIDAN cell has always made a point of giving fairly precise locations and times in their warnings. All good public relations for the Provos. What they’ve neglected to say is that they’ve been deviously booby trapped and that there are secondary devices they haven’t told us about. Tends to make the authorities, the RUC and the army look like incompetent chumps.’
‘So as soon as you recognised the significance of the codeword, you contacted your Expos at Seven Dials, right? And in fact there were four bombs in total?’
Appleyard answered. ‘There was the one Jock and I cleared first in Tower Street. It was in a van with an antihandling device wired to the courtesy-light system. That was actuated by a one-hour Memo Park timer in the TPU. We overcame the problem with standard window-entry procedure. Fragments showed that the main microchip timer was’operating on an eleven-hour fifteen minute delay. Due to go off at five past midday.’
Maitland frowned. ‘And when did the Seven Dials bomb go off.’
‘About five minutes later,’ Appleyard replied. ‘It had been placed in a street manhole. My guess is several sacks of ANS with a Semtex booster. Judging by the damage, maybe four hundred pounds.’
The detective nodded grimly. ‘We’re trying to establish how it was put there. Some local shopkeepers said a couple of local council workers appeared to be inspecting the drains yesterday evening. Apparently they looked the part — orange overalls and a van with council livery. At any rate they aroused no suspicions. Inquiries are at an early stage, but that would seem to be our best lead so far.’
‘Seven Dials had never been used as an emergency rendezvous before?’ Maitland asked.
‘No,’ Pritchard confirmed. ‘That’s one reason why it was chosen. We often can’t get local police inspectors to understand the need to vary RV sites. Keep using the same one in a given area and you’re asking to be set up.’
This time Midgely added: ‘I think PIRA was trying to double-guess where the RV might be. While all that was going on down at Seven Dials, I was working on another device in a car next to the Palace Theatre at Cambridge Circus due to go off at twelve fifteen. That was the most likely RV, but it was considered too close to Tower Street for safety.’
‘That’s the one bomb you haven’t made public, right?’ Maitland asked.
‘Not us,’ Pritchard replied tartly. ‘It’s what the Home Office decided in its infinite wisdom. Thought three bombs in an area at once was quite enough for the public to contend with. Said they didn’t want a major panic in future. People would start to expect a bomb on every corner next time there’s a scare.’ He obliged with one of his icy smiles. ‘Which I expect is PIRA’s exact intention.’
‘And when was this Palace Theatre bomb timed to go off?’
‘Ten after noon,’ Midgely answered. ‘And it also had an antihandling circuit wired to the courtesy light.’
‘So apart from the under-road device at Seven Dials, all three vehicle bombs had the same type of booby trap which you overcame by not touching the doors?’ The detective looked round the room for confirmation. ‘So poor old Jock Murray just ran out of time, is that it?’
Al Pritchard nodded his concurrence. ‘It would seem so, unless there was a different sort of antihandling mechanism. That would fit in with AIDANT method in the Province. Two or three identical devices to create a degree of complacency, then the last one with a subtle difference. Anyway, we’ll not know till we get forensics back from Fort Halstead.’
‘I understand,’ Maitland said, glancing at his watch. ‘Look, I must be going. Just wanted to double-check all the facts before we see the Home Secretary. The Commander wants to be able to give the minister some reassurance that we’re taking all necessary measures to get on top of this business.’
‘What do you have in mind?’ Pritchard asked.
Maitland shifted his stance uneasily; this could be prickly. ‘The Commander thinks we should get someone over from Northern Ireland. Someone who’s had direct experience with the AID AN bombings over there. Cover ourselves politically in case this joker continues to make his presence felt here in London. Purely in a liaison capacity of course.’
The air in the office seemed to freeze. Reactions on the faces of the Expos confirmed exactly what Maitland had anticipated. To these men, who were asked to risk their lives every day, the suggestion sounded like a breach of faith.
‘We can handle it/ Al Pritchard said darkly.
‘Of course you can, Alan. This is mostly a cosmetic exercise, although I’d have thought two heads would be better than one, so to speak. Get a top army ATO over here for a week or so, just so we can be seen to be doing something.’
Pritchard was not one to hide his wounded pride. ‘It’s a knee-jerk reaction, Jim. Do I have to accept it?’
‘It’s an official recommendation by the Commander.’ The detective looked sympathetic. ‘And I’m sure it’ll receive the Home Secretary’s sanction.’
‘I’d like it to be known that I do not consider it necessary.’
‘Then I’ll pass your comments on.’
‘You do that, Jim.’
Maitland stepped towards the door, then turned. ‘I’ll tell you something, Al. As this AIDAN cell is now operating on the mainland, we could be in for a long hot summer.’
Pritchard’s hooded eyes were half closed, predatory. ‘Is this all to do with these secret talks PIRA mentioned in their warning?’
‘Don’t even ask, Al, don’t even ask. I can tell you officially that I have no knowledge of the existence of any such discussions.’
‘Thank you for sharing that with us, Jim,’ Pritchard replied with heavy irony.
5
The morning news conference at the London Evening Standard was its usual low-key affair.
At the head of the long mahogany table sat the editor. Resplendent in bright blue braces and tie to match, he listened as the news editor went through the day’s running order. Only occasionally he interrupted the steady monologue with a query or a topical wisecrack. Sometimes the deputy news editor, or one of the other editors or department heads, would expand on the ideas behind proposed items.
‘So what are we splashing with, Steve?’ the editor asked.
‘It’s got to be the aftermath of the Seven Dials bombs.’
‘Just the front page?’
‘Plus one and two,’ the news editor replied. ‘We’ve got more of Hal’s pics we didn’t use yesterday, plus a lot of good eyewitness accounts.’
The editor’s thick eyebrows rose behind his heavy black spectacles. ‘We’re not in danger of giving this too much coverage? The oxygen of publicity to the terrorists, and all that.’
‘I don’t think so. It’s more than justified seeing as it’s the biggest single attack since the City bombs. Or the seventies if you consider the casualties caused. And the first time they’ve used car bombs for about ten years. Besides, I think there could be more behind this latest campaign. I took the bombers’ warning call yesterday and they mentioned secret talks between the British and Irish Governments. They’re demanding a seat at the table. Now, as we’ve been told nothing about this, I’ve asked Eddie Mercs to do a little digging.’
The editor said: ‘I know. I had a telephone call this morning from the secretary of the Defence Advisory Committee,’ the editor explained. ‘Charming chap. He pointed out — rather unnecessarily, I thought — that we were legally prevented from repeating the bombers’ demands. He also said it had been brought to his attention that Eddie was asking questions of the Northern Ireland Office and Dublin about rumours of secret talks. Said he hoped we weren’t going into print on the subject as it would almost certainly be contravening an unsung new subparagraph to Code Six that slipped quietly into being last year.’