THE NOTE
Chapter 1 - Heartfelt
Chapter 1 - Heartfelt
"This extends, I suppose, beyond just an ex. Beyond the most recent, beyond just mine. Beyond male, beyond female. Either way, I've lost people. Every time I imagine them thinking that what I said when I was with them was just a lie to get what I wanted then. Not true. I meant it all. Yes, some of it was melodramatic, a little overblown. Some of it was, perhaps, unwarranted. Some of it was perhaps... too much.
I was an idiot when I was young, and I guess I got it wrong sometimes. We've all made our mistakes though, and I do not regret them, though it's taken me a long time to accept this. I do sometimes think about what would have happened if things had gone a little differently, but of course, we all have to shut up and move on at some point.
I used to think that my doubts would crush me. Angsty as that sounds, it's true. As it sounds so angsty, we'll speak no more of it.
I suppose all I needed to say here was that when I said I missed you it wasn't because I felt I had to. It was because I meant it, even if I didn't know how much I did. Every time you growled at me for being stupid, I had a smile for you, even if you didn't see it. Every time I had to leave it hurt just as much as the last. Knowing I was leaving behind all my self-belief and joy for another day at work, cold, facing the real world alone, with only the knowledge I might see you again soon dragging me through. Every second I hated being away from you. It all seemed worth it knowing what we'd had.
I suppose all I needed to say here was that when I said I missed you it wasn't because I felt I had to. It was because I meant it, even if I didn't know how much I did. Every time you growled at me for being stupid, I had a smile for you, even if you didn't see it. Every time I had to leave it hurt just as much as the last. Knowing I was leaving behind all my self-belief and joy for another day at work, cold, facing the real world alone, with only the knowledge I might see you again soon dragging me through. Every second I hated being away from you. It all seemed worth it knowing what we'd had.
Anyway, whether you believe me or not, there's only one thing left to say.
It wasn't you. It was me.
It was me all along."
It was me all along."
So... he was right, but it wasn't the most melodramatic suicide note I'd ever seen...
Until the rest of the bombs began to detonate.
Until the rest of the bombs began to detonate.
The first was a recent ex-girlfriend. Thankfully, nobody had been in the house. Everyone had been attending a family wedding. Her room was the only one that had taken any damage, though it was impossible to say who could have been injured if the family had been at home. Signs of a break in were evident, but well-concealed. He'd been smart enough to wear gloves, possibly several pairs. Forensics found no fingerprints, or footprints. They did find a few hairs, however, which matched the hairs on the fragments of flesh we had. It was our man.
The beginning of our problems of course. The pathologists had found more than just chunks of his broken, burned body. A small clay packet, once broken open, yielded a small note.
"This was my fault. I destroyed it all. Now I must destroy myself. Therein lies the problem. There is so much more to destroy than just a body..."
"This was my fault. I destroyed it all. Now I must destroy myself. Therein lies the problem. There is so much more to destroy than just a body..."
There were more bombs.
This was not what we wanted.
His mother was questioned, as soon as we had her in a fit enough emotional state to do so. She told us that the young man had hated school. We took the address of the school, and sent one of our bomb squad to investigate. Another was attempting to understand the initial device he'd created.
**
As I walked into the lab, my mind began to clear. Perhaps the strong smell of ammonia had something to do with it.
"Takes the stench of death away..."
A technician laughed, and then ordered his colleague to close the bottle. It remained smelling clean, through the acrid hit of ammonia, as though the polished metal was keen to assert itself. There was something else. A smell I didn't know. Smoke rose from table at the rear of the lab, where a technician stood holding a large pair of metal tongs.
"The 'smoke' is carbon dioxide gas, from the dry ice we're using. It's for flash cooling explosive chemicals, making sure they're a little safer. Of course, we can't ensure absolute safety, hence the tongs, and the bullet proof vests..."
A technician laughed, and then ordered his colleague to close the bottle. It remained smelling clean, through the acrid hit of ammonia, as though the polished metal was keen to assert itself. There was something else. A smell I didn't know. Smoke rose from table at the rear of the lab, where a technician stood holding a large pair of metal tongs.
"The 'smoke' is carbon dioxide gas, from the dry ice we're using. It's for flash cooling explosive chemicals, making sure they're a little safer. Of course, we can't ensure absolute safety, hence the tongs, and the bullet proof vests..."
I nodded, still a little unsure of what was going on.
"Lab spectacles, please, there's a box by the door."
I fumbled for them, and dropped several pairs. Several of the technicians appeared unimpressed but unsurprised. They were used to the irritating intrusions by CID now. We tried to keep it to a minimum, but sometimes a phone call will not do. Machinery confused me at the best of times, so the laboratory terrified me, and the technicians took a great deal of joy in that.
"STAY WHERE YOU ARE!"
Though startled, I soon realised he hadn't been shouting at me. A technician, frozen in horror. No, not horror. Triumph.
The head of the lab turned back to me.
"Watch this... Kevin... stamp."
The technician stamped down, and there was a small explosion on the lab bench.
The head of the lab turned back to me.
"Watch this... Kevin... stamp."
The technician stamped down, and there was a small explosion on the lab bench.
"We've been working on synthesising this safely since yesterday. Diacetyl peroxide, a highly shock-sensitive explosive compound. We believe it's what our man has been using. Hydrogen peroxide and acetic anhydride. Bleach and darkroom chemicals. The boy must have been a keen photographer. We've found charred remains of an alarm clock at her house. At first we thought it was just something caught in the explosion. Seems he's used it as a fuse."
"That's impossible. He was dead before the bomb went off."
"That's impossible. He was dead before the bomb went off."
"Are you certain he's the killer?"
Like I said, I hated the laboratory.
Like I said, I hated the laboratory.
**
I received a phone call not long after I'd left the lab. Firemen had been called to a school. It was a large fire. Reports of an explosion had been coming from the local area. Forensics confirmed traces of diacetyl peroxide. All the school laboratory's stock of organic solvents had been places near the explosion site, causing a massive fire. Several alarm clocks were found in the wreckage
Forensics were right. It wasn't our dead boy. I stood watching the blaze from outside the gates of the playground. I couldn't get any closer until the fire crews and forensics team were done.
Forensics were right. It wasn't our dead boy. I stood watching the blaze from outside the gates of the playground. I couldn't get any closer until the fire crews and forensics team were done.
Another clay packet.
"Memories will have to go... but nobody else has to die."
"Memories will have to go... but nobody else has to die."
August. Several weeks to rebuild the school. No casualties. The council budget had taken a hit, but nothing a few belts tightened around the necks of the poor couldn't fix. Funny how when you want bombs, there aren't any.
We never heard from him again. We never found the accomplice.
We never heard from him again. We never found the accomplice.
Chapter 2 – Accidental
The phone rang for the fourth time in an hour.
"For heaven's sake..."
"For heaven's sake..."
He picked it up. It was Benson.
"Sir, there's been an accident."
Constable Benson meant well, but being so vague was never helpful.
Constable Benson meant well, but being so vague was never helpful.
"What sort of accident? Where?"
"At the University sir."
Student, of course. Likely to be a waste of police time. Someone injured during a JCR prank or similar. DI Barnock remembered Benson's previous call of a similar nature. The JCR in question had organised a "sheep night" where a sheep was to be taken from a local farm and left in the quad at the Hall of Residence. Some clown had abducted a goat by mistake. The goat was not pleased with this state of affairs, and the boy ended up in hospital. The farmer was too busy laughing to press charges.
"What sort of accident, Benson? Get to the point man!"
"What sort of accident, Benson? Get to the point man!"
"An explosion sir."
"The location of the incident please?"
The chemistry lab most likely. An idiot undergraduate being a little too careless with chemical waste. The sort of thing that happened all too often, and normally wasn't reported.
"Mathematics block sir. They report said dioxide something. I don't really remember. I was never any good at chemistry at school..."
"Diacetyl peroxide."
"Mathematics block sir. They report said dioxide something. I don't really remember. I was never any good at chemistry at school..."
"Diacetyl peroxide."
The words fell from his mouth, without thinking.
"Yes, that's right sir, that's the one. How did you know sir?"
Barnock hoped that it wasn't true.
Barnock hoped that it wasn't true.
"Lucky guess, Benson."
He was starting to feel sick.
*
"I don't care what he told you, Barnock, you can't just walk in and buy the stuff. It had to be stolen."
Forensics. Barnock never seemed to get on with the forensic officers.
"If it was stolen, wouldn't there be more evidence?"
Sighs dropped around the lab.
"What do you think we're looking for? Winning lottery numbers?"
*
*
White walls. The faint smell of ammonia lingering on his clothes. Even outside the lab he was still stuck with them. This had all started when the Chief Inspector got involved. Nagging questions, with the emphasis on nagging rather than appropriate questions. A theory had been advanced that the diacetyl peroxide was being purchased for use in the 'attacks'. Coupled with purchases of large amounts of dry ice or liquid nitrogen to keep the peroxide well below any expected detonation temperature. Universities and industry purchase large amounts of liquid nitrogen, but there were no leads from either. Many people purchase dry ice: people keeping beers cold for barbecues, stage managers for theatre productions or rock concerts. Inconclusive at best. Officers had been checking purchase orders from the university laboratories, but no diacetyl peroxide was found.
Flashes of conversation with forensics returned to him like ghosts.
"You can't just buy explosives, there are tight controls. Regulated purchase orders, background checks..."
People lie all the time about who they are to get what they want. How was this any different?
"You don't need dry ice or liquid nitrogen, Barnock. It only needs to be kept below thirty degrees. Normal ice will do."
Another lead melting.
*
"Sir..."
"Yes, Benson?"
"We've had more information from the University."
"Yes, Benson?"
"We've had more information from the University."
Barnock drummed his fingers on his desk.
"Nobody was hurt sir."
"Nobody was hurt sir."
"None at all, Benson?"
"That's what the report says sir..."
"That's what the report says sir..."
"Thank you Benson."
Another ghost.
Barnock wandered down to Forensics.
“Do you still have any samples of our bomb suicide?”
“Barnock, your grammar is atrocious. I'll go check.”
“Barnock, your grammar is atrocious. I'll go check.”
It had been months. If anything had been salvaged from the ashes, it'd have been in advanced stages of decomposition by now. The senior forensic officer returned and slammed a plastic packet down on the table. Once a fresh pair of gloves were in place, he removed the cable ties and then placed a chunk of human flesh on top of the sterilised outer plastic.
Barnock was shocked by the smell. Expecting the stench of raw meat, there was only a faint smell of formaldehyde.
“Your chemicals?”
“No. It was found in this condition. We're still working on the report. It's looking to be a little more complicated than we thought.”
“Your chemicals?”
“No. It was found in this condition. We're still working on the report. It's looking to be a little more complicated than we thought.”
Nodding assent, Barnock was pleased with how this was going. No sarcasm, nobody being rude to anybody, but most of all, a lead.
“How do we know that the flesh we have... is that of the alleged deceased? If it is, can we confirm death? Judging by the recent bombing, the bomber is alive and active. Possibly a murder suspect, likely armed, and extremely dangerous even if unarmed with... conventional weapons.”
“We don't. We can't. In that order. Looks like it's your turn.”
Chapter 3 - Rebirth
“I had to die. Too selfish for this world. I wanted you, nobody else. I wanted nobody else to exist but the two of us. My jealousy made me sick. I let you down. I wasn't good enough for this, for you. Just another inevitable ending. I... I'm sorry. Please forgive me. When I am reborn perhaps we can arrange something better.”
“I had to die. Too selfish for this world. I wanted you, nobody else. I wanted nobody else to exist but the two of us. My jealousy made me sick. I let you down. I wasn't good enough for this, for you. Just another inevitable ending. I... I'm sorry. Please forgive me. When I am reborn perhaps we can arrange something better.”
Another clay packet. This one was different. A striped pattern had been scratched into the clay before firing, perhaps with a fork. Forensics suggested that it was an attempt to limit fingerprint detection. Gloves would have been an easier way to do it, but conventional logic was clearly beyond the remit of whoever wrote the note.
A game. The fingerprints didn't matter when the clay packet was left at a bomb site. Ignored, due to more pressing matters. Such an obvious thing to check.
“Is it possible that the fingerprints have been burned off?”
“Even if they were, they're not on our database.”
No body made it impossible to check. Phone call followed phone call, but nothing had happened at any other university, and there were no records of students with severe mental health issues.
*
“Yes Benson?”
“The chief wants to see you sir. He says it's urgent.”
Another bombing. A cemetery this time.
Seriously unstable. The clay packet Forensics had recovered had been found at the cemetery.
Seriously unstable. The clay packet Forensics had recovered had been found at the cemetery.
“John, this is getting serious now. This goes beyond mere property damage. We have to explain to families that graves have been disturbed.”
A sigh as the realisation sank in further. Cups of tea followed by tears. Frustration subsiding into castrated anger, before dissolving in sorrow. Visits like that were the ones he hated the most. Impotence boiled in resentment. Those left, sitting silent, wishing it was the messenger who was dead. Barnock saw himself as one of the walking dead, disturbed by the blasts, shambling aimlessly.
A sigh as the realisation sank in further. Cups of tea followed by tears. Frustration subsiding into castrated anger, before dissolving in sorrow. Visits like that were the ones he hated the most. Impotence boiled in resentment. Those left, sitting silent, wishing it was the messenger who was dead. Barnock saw himself as one of the walking dead, disturbed by the blasts, shambling aimlessly.
“John... this is a little more complicated that we thought.”
Forensics. Naturally.
“It's not diacetyl peroxide.”
Momentary relief.
“But they found this...”
Momentary relief.
“But they found this...”
A clay packet. Barnock fell back in his seat and became conscious of his own breathing. He recognised this one.
“This one isn't like the others, John. Those lines, there's something to them.”
On closer inspection, it wasn't just lines scratched in with a fork. Something had been inscribed, the lines seemingly an attempt to mask the original message. Thankfully it had not been completely obscured. The symbols of the Greek letters omega and alpha. Omega in upper case, alpha in lower case. Omega first, alpha next. The end, then the beginning. A death, a birth. Death birth. Birth of death. The two men scratched their heads. Death near birth. Death near life. Death near the start of life.
“This one isn't like the others, John. Those lines, there's something to them.”
On closer inspection, it wasn't just lines scratched in with a fork. Something had been inscribed, the lines seemingly an attempt to mask the original message. Thankfully it had not been completely obscured. The symbols of the Greek letters omega and alpha. Omega in upper case, alpha in lower case. Omega first, alpha next. The end, then the beginning. A death, a birth. Death birth. Birth of death. The two men scratched their heads. Death near birth. Death near life. Death near the start of life.
“Oh fuck...”
“Excuse me Detective Inspector?”
“Excuse me Detective Inspector?”
“Great Ormond Street Hospital, sir. That's where the next bomb is. We might not have much time.”
“How do you know it's that particular hospital John?”
“Look closely at the clay packet. There's a crying face. That's the logo of the Great Ormond Street Children's Charity. He wants us to find him. He's scared. He doesn't want them dead.”
“Look closely at the clay packet. There's a crying face. That's the logo of the Great Ormond Street Children's Charity. He wants us to find him. He's scared. He doesn't want them dead.”
The Chief Inspector raised an eyebrow.
“This is quite a gamble, John. Supposing you have the wrong hospital? Supposing he's not even targeting a hospital?”
“This is quite a gamble, John. Supposing you have the wrong hospital? Supposing he's not even targeting a hospital?”
Not a flinch.
“It was UCL he targeted. GOSH is the closest hospital to UCL, which he clearly has some ties to, otherwise he wouldn't have targeted it. All his bombings have had some personal link. We've seen how melodramatic this guy is. This is his perfect plan...”
“It was UCL he targeted. GOSH is the closest hospital to UCL, which he clearly has some ties to, otherwise he wouldn't have targeted it. All his bombings have had some personal link. We've seen how melodramatic this guy is. This is his perfect plan...”
Interview terminated.
Chapter 4 – Arrest
Chapter 4 – Arrest
“Where is he John?”
“CCU.”
The other officers shrugged.
“Coronary Care Unit. The heart ward. Melodramatic, like I told you. I don't know where the bomb is. We need to be extremely careful here. These wards are occupied.”
“Coronary Care Unit. The heart ward. Melodramatic, like I told you. I don't know where the bomb is. We need to be extremely careful here. These wards are occupied.”
All they could hear was breathing. Their own, and mechanically assisted breathing of the patients.
“Check with security for any strange behaviour recorded on the cameras. Anything moved to where it shouldn't be. Any chemicals moved. Check all the cold stores.”
Three officers moved out, each in a different direction.
As planned, security officers were questioned first, to aid location of the cold stores while Barnock headed straight to the CCU.
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Benson had found it. Barnock cracked a smile, remaining silent. As he approached the ward, he could see his man.
<
Benson had found it. Barnock cracked a smile, remaining silent. As he approached the ward, he could see his man.
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A click on the ward.
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<
A click on the ward.
<
“I've been expecting you.”
The ward was dark, and as the suspect stepped forward, the lights came on automatically. A child began to cry, though the cries seemed stifled, as though the child had difficulty breathing. A strip light flickered, casting rays upon a respirator. It flickered again, casting rays upon the suspect's gun.
Barnock stopped.
The ward was dark, and as the suspect stepped forward, the lights came on automatically. A child began to cry, though the cries seemed stifled, as though the child had difficulty breathing. A strip light flickered, casting rays upon a respirator. It flickered again, casting rays upon the suspect's gun.
Barnock stopped.
“Killing a policeman? All of this was just to kill a policeman?”
Unpleasant memories in a flood of flashbacks. Drug dealers, gang members, there were plenty of people who wanted a chance to kill a policeman. A children's hospital ward the ideal place to take one on. Too risky to fight back, chance of endangering the children.
“The depths of vanity to which man sinks...”
<>
Mental Health Act 1983. A call for backup. Possibility of a long wait.
<>
One problem dealt with. Disposal covered. The bomb squad had the device and were removing it safely from the hospital. Back-up en route. Barnock hoped they were bringing a doctor.
“You see, this isn't about you. You found a suicide note, did you not? Several in fact. Not so much... failed attempts, as... unfinished business. I don't want these children making the same mistakes as me. That's what the bomb is for. They won't grow up to make the same mistakes I made...”
“You see, this isn't about you. You found a suicide note, did you not? Several in fact. Not so much... failed attempts, as... unfinished business. I don't want these children making the same mistakes as me. That's what the bomb is for. They won't grow up to make the same mistakes I made...”
More children began to cry. Their gasping breaths suggested they wouldn't grow up to make those mistakes irrespective of any bombs.
“If I damage this hospital, some of these children won't be helped back out into the real world. They can be saved. I can be the one to save them.”
The radio signal was garbled, but Barnock knew they were coming.
“If I damage this hospital, some of these children won't be helped back out into the real world. They can be saved. I can be the one to save them.”
The radio signal was garbled, but Barnock knew they were coming.
“They've removed the bomb. It's over. We're going to go home now.”
The gun, raised.
“I'm not going home.”
“I'm not going home.”
As he pulled his head back and swallowed a bullet, the rest of the children in the ward began to cry, their drowning breaths blasted momentarily into silence.
No point using radios now. Barnock took his phone from his pocket.
“Yes, get a cleaner. Don't bother with Forensics.”
Chapter 5 - Epilogue
We found a clay packet in the hospital. Four omegas were carved into the clay.
"This is for when it's over. Nothing changed. She left me, and I stayed the same. The same fool who kept himself stupid. I've learned nothing from these years alone. With her or without her, whoever she is. I'm sick of a high I'm still chasing but no longer recognise. What I really wanted... I... they... well... I left them and nothing changed. I don't understand this. We're all clinging to something we think will save us. We all desperately want love to be the key to our existence, to unlock some great potential. There's nothing. It's a fraud, a lie, sold to us by someone far smarter than we've ever allowed ourselves to be. So we shamble along lying to one another as well as ourselves, always wanting something that never existed. I'm fed up of making this mistake over and over, and I can only see one way out of this. I never meant to hurt anybody. I never meant to keep anyone trapped. Tell them all I'm sorry. All of this went too far. I never meant to keep anyone. I never meant to. I was never meant to..."
That was all there was.
