Chapter 17

Holly pointedly turned the subject back to work.

“We have to get our work done, girls, or Frances will not be happy; and when Frances is narked, Reg gets upset.”

Carol headed for the kitchen radio, and switched it on for music. By bad timing, she got the news headlines.

“ ... seven people are reported injured, and many other shocked by the blast. Police have called in the anti-terrorist squad, but why terrorists would try to blow open a bank vault is unclear. The Ministry of Defence have issued a new launch date for the second Queen Elizabeth Class aircraft carrier. It has been postponed for four weeks, due to technical difficulties.

The weather: Bright but showery across most of the UK, except for the Western Isles where a low is bringing heavy showers. Now, back to the music.”

Sidra asked, “What was that about an explosion at a bank? Would that have any connection with the explosion in the Chemistry building?”

Holly reassured her. “No chance, Sidra. The explosion at the university was caused by escaping gas; nothing like what must have happened at the bank. Put your mind at rest, girl.”

“Still, can we find out some more? Please?”

“If we go into Reg’s study, we can use the computer there, and look at the BBC News website. That will have fuller information,” said Carol.

Holly sighed, “I suppose so, but make it quick. I’ll start the ground floor dusting. Carol, you can tackle the next floor, and Sidra the top – as soon as possible please, ladies.”

Carol switched on the computer and the browser, and found the news website. The story was there, and it was clearly a robbery attempt. A senior policeman had told the media, “This was an attempt to gain entry to the bank’s vault, but they used too much explosive, or too powerful an explosive. Whichever it was, it scuppered their plans. The door has been sealed by the blast and the thieves ran for their car outside, and vanished with nothing to show for it. Several staff and customers had their hands and legs cable-tied, and were lying on the floor of the customer area. As the vault is much further away, these victims were mainly affected by the shock wave of the explosion, and are temporarily deaf. They have been taken to hospital for treatment.

Once they have recovered, we shall be able to get their statements about what actually occurred. That is all we know for now.”

An insistent newsman asked, “Why was the explosion so large, Chief Inspector?”

“That is being looked into as we speak, so I have nothing to tell you on that front. The least likely scenario is that the thieves used too much explosive due to miscalculation.”

The story gave no more information, so Carol closed the website and shut down the computer.

“Happy now, Sidra?”

She nodded. “Obviously nothing to do with gas. Probably too much gelignite.”

Carol told her, “There you go again, Sidra; talking about gelignite as if you knew all about it. Let’s get to the dusting, instead.”

Reg was surprised to get two text messages on his phone before they even got to the university. One was from the Student Service Manager, asking Reg to phone a specific number to speak with the policeman he had met previously. The other was a request for him to phone Sergeant Terence Phillips.

Reg chose the sergeant first.

“Sergeant Phillips please.”

“Hang on sir, while I transfer you.”

“Robertson?” the sergeant’s voice came from the phone.

“Yes, sir. You wanted me to call.”

“Indeed. Did you hear about this explosion at a bank?”

“No, sir. I didn’t check the news this morning.”

“Well, there was an attempted robbery at a bank. The thieves tied up the staff and customers, then put explosives against the vault door. The went well back and set off the explosives. The explosion was far greater than even they clearly expected, for it sealed the vault shut, and the perpetrators had to flee empty-handed.”

“I see. Why are you telling me this, sergeant?”

“Because forensics say that the cupboard in the Chemistry building contained explosives of some kind. What exactly, they are not sure, but similar to the explosive placed below the cupboard door. It looks like the one explosion was intended to destroy evidence of the stash of explosives inside. From the debris, our experts assess the planted explosive to be very powerful for its size. More powerful than gelignite is the suggestion; a residue suggesting a cubane explosive, whatever that is. That is the connection with today’s news. The potential robbers assumed it was similar to gelignite, just a little more power to it; but the result was much more destructive than they had assumed. I am inclined to accept that the thieves got their explosives via Mr Fitzgerald. That means he is selling explosives to the criminal fraternity; and not to terrorists, as Special Branch have been imagining.”

“Your reasoning seems impeccable Sergeant. How about your tracing abilities?”

“We went back to basics and re-asked the constabularies for their information; this time to come direct to me. We got one report of them being seen in Sussex a week ago. We think this was before they decamped to Dublin; possibly they were warned by their police contact. We have now asked for any new sightings, and any reports of unexplained explosions being heard. It is too early to expect results from that enquiry, so that is all I have for you. Any further suggestions?”

“The only thing I can imagine, Sergeant is that as Squadron-Leader Aitchison was RAF Bomb Disposal, they may have used bomb disposal sites for testing – the unexplained explosions that you are seeking. If they use old and deep quarries, the noise might not be remarked upon. It would be, ‘just the bomb disposal people again’.

“Thank you again, Mr Robertson. I shall get a list of such disposal sites and see what has been heard and observed; then match it with the bomb disposal folk’s records.”

They finished the call, and Reg noted they had almost arrived at the university car park. He checked his timetable for today, and he had over half an hour before his first appointment: a discussion with his tutor about progress. Reg reckoned he could afford to be slightly late if the call lasted longer than expected.

He saw the ladies off towards their own appointments, and found a bench to sit on for his next call. He dialled the number, and was asked his name.

“Reginald Robertson.”

“Hold.” after enough time for a list to be consulted, he was told, “I’ll put you through.”

Now, a recognised voice said, “Robertson?”

“You did get told I was on the line, so why ask again?”

“Oh, yes. Always the smart-ass. Have you seen the news this morning?”

“No sir, I haven’t. Should I have? Have you discovered the man you were seeking?”

“No, but possibly evidence of his presence. There was an explosion at a bank; possibly an attempt to get terrorist funding.”

“Evidence for that assumption?”

“What do you mean, evidence? A bloody great explosion is evidence enough. The forensic examination of the Chemistry lab suggests Fitzgerald was developing his own powerful explosive; perfect for suicide bombs and such.”

“An interesting surmise. I presume the bank robbers acted like terrorists, killing everyone in sight?”

“Well, no, actually. They tied up everyone and kept them away from the explosion. It was a bloody big explosion too!”

“So, tender-hearted terrorists, stealing funds from a bank. How much did they get?”

“Nothing. Their explosion sealed the bank vault closed. It will be a bloody great nuisance getting it open again.”

“Were they wearing masks?”

“Of course they were, and they had guns.”

“Sir, If I may be so bold, your description sound more like normal bank robbers with explosives they didn’t know how to use, and no plan B other than escape. The masks suggest criminals; terrorist do not care if they are seen, as they are proud of what they imagine they are doing. I would also expect terrorists to kill as many people as possible; have a bomb expert to calculate the amount necessary to open the door; and come prepared for removing large sums of money. They would happily spray bullets around everywhere. I am afraid I must doubt your terrorist assumption: The facts do not agree with it, do they?”

There was a long silence as the Special Branch man took this in. Then he spoke again.

“The odds are that the explosive came from Fitzgerald, you must agree.”

“I would certainly agree with that assumption, sir. His target appears to be to make money selling explosives. He MIGHT get around to selling to terrorists, but today’s event suggests his primary sales target is organised crime.”

“Robertson, why is that whenever I speak to you, you come up with new and different angles from the same facts?”

“I am a university student, sir. My lecturers expect me to think logically, without any preconceived ideas about what is happening. That is all I am doing. Your professional position forces you to think in predetermined lines of thought. Your bosses want to discover terrorists, so that is your primary aim in any investigation. I have no specific aim, so I am not unduly influenced by senior colleagues.

If I can assist further, do let me know.”

The Special Branch man gave up with a sigh, and concluded the call with less bluster than before.

Reg went off to meet his tutor, pleased with his two calls.

The tutor had his own opinion of Reg.

“Robertson, during the first semester, you went ahead in leaps and bounds. I know we have only had a week or so of this semester, but the feedback I have been getting from your lecturers is less positive than before. You still posit odd-sounding questions, but otherwise appear to be drifting at the moment. Can you explain why?”

“Too many other things getting in the way, sir. This morning I have had two calls from policemen, asking for assistance. In addition, should you wish to speak to the Reverend Professor, she will tell you I have another matter on my mind; one that neither of us can tell you about. In addition to all that, I have the needs of my wives to consider, as they are all fellow students here. I do my best to tutor them to help them improve their results.”

The tutor blinked as he stared at Reg in amazement.

“I must admit, I have never heard such a tale before. Can you back this tale of adventure with facts?”

“Of course, sir, but some of the informants may not wish to divulge their connection to me. They may be able to say that I have been dealing with them, but without any details of what. My wives can be introduced to you at any time. They are all on the university’s books as ‘Mrs Robertson’. The Student Services Manager can confirm that fact.

Is there anything else we need to talk about, sir?”

“Just a minute. Wives? You are the student with had a Commitment Ceremony last semester? With four women?”

“That would be me, sir. A fifth one has come to join us, so we will be having a further Commitment Ceremony before long.”

“I give up. All I want from you, Robertson, is your own commitment to your studies in this university. Will you promise to work harder and achieve more?”

“I shall do that as much as I can, sir. I hope to get a good degree at the end of this, though I have already had a job offer from a company when I graduate.”

“Robertson, get out of here. You are wasting my valuable time, when I could be helping students who really need assistance!”

“Yes, sir.” Reg left the office, grinning to himself. If only my girls were as fortunate. Ours is a male-dominated society. There was always the assumption that girls will do worse than boys. The evidence for that assumption was ambivalent at the least. More probably it was general social attitudes that deterred clever girls from achieving more.

He was now looking forward to his physics lecturer telling him about the physics of transport. Reg proposed to ask what similarity there was between moving trains on railway tracks and snow crunching underfoot. It was something to do with traction and slip, he understood, but he was interested in how the lecturer approached it.

Surprisingly, the man was up to the challenge, when Reg asked this at the end of the lecture.

“Mr Robertson, the question boils down to two opposing forces: Friction and slip. In the case of trains, the friction between wheel and rail – two steel surfaces – is very small, so the force needing to be applied to make the wheels turn is relatively small. This why rail transport is so efficient.

Applying a much greater force causes the wheels to slip, and this is observable when a steam engine starts up too sharply. The wheels spin and then catch again, so the engine driver has to lower the motive force to allow traction to take place with this level of friction.

In a similar way, newly fallen snowflakes are structurally jagged, and so find it easy to interlock. When this stronger force of friction is overcome by a human foot stepping down, there is a sudden episode of slip, resulting in a sharp sound that you hear as the crunching of snow. Older snow has slightly melted, producing a rounded spine structure with a lower coefficient of friction, so slip occurs more readily, and with less noise.

A similar effect happens when railway lines are wet. The slip then happens more readily so the engine driver has to reduce his power level to counteract this. The infamous ‘leaves on the line’ excuse really happens. The leaves have to be damp and greasy, of course, and so you get more slip, making it difficult for the train to obtain the traction for going fast.”

Reg was quick with his praise. “Thank you, sir, for that clear explanation. I will never again complain if my train is slower on a wet day.”

“As long as the physics is understood by my students, I will be happy,” finished the lecturer. “You seem to already be conversant with most of this material, Robertson.”

“Sir, I believe in reading the prescribed texts BEFORE the course starts. That way, the lectures help to expand my understanding of what I have read.”

The man stared at Reg. “All of the prescribed texts?”

“Not quite, sir, but all the important ones. Some merely seem to enlarge on the basic theme of the others. Once one sees the overall pattern, the rest becomes easy.”

“That is true. I wish other students took the same approach to Physics.”

“We are all human, sir, so we each have our own attitudes towards learning. Learning, for me, has always been my prime target in life. Now, though, I have my female companions to divert my attention.”

“Ah, yes, girls. Always the girls, with you young men. But wait a minute, aren’t you the young man who has linked up with several plain girls?”

“That is correct, sir, but these so-called plain girls are clever with it, and it is my joy to act as tutor to them, so that they should be able to master a good degree.”

“You are quite taken by them?”

“Indeed so. I intend to spend the rest of my life with them. They feel the same way about me, so all is well.”

“Good luck, then, Robertson; chacun à son goût. Please remember to maintain your studies in physics. You need your own good degree, young man.”

“I know, sir, and I will. Pardon me, I have another appointment now.”

He didn’t, but he wanted to get away from this discussion. His next appointment was with the library, to do some research into explosions. Reg was wondering what exactly Fitzgerald had been up to in the lab, and was thinking of how unstable the guy’s new explosive might be. There might be a reason why Fitzgerald, a student, could come up with a more powerful explosive that was not already in the military or commercial inventory. Or, like Nobel, he has come up with an additive that makes the explosive more of a commercial product.