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would leave others from whoever had put the body in the tank.
    They all knew that these alone would not lead them to the killer. This forensic evidence would only become useful when they had definite suspects for comparison. As things stood, Keane would have been killed by one of thousands on the base. Only by interviewing anyone intimately concerned with the activity in the tank, and every person who knew the victim and his absent wife, would they begin to piece together the events leading to the disaster that had overtaken this soldier and his family.
    With that in mind Tom moved to where a small group of men were emptying the tank, and addressed a muscular man with three stripes on his sleeve, who was overseeing the job.
    â€˜Sergeant Figgis?’
    The man swung to face Tom. ‘Who wants him?’
    â€˜Sar’nt Major Black, SIB .’
    â€˜Ah, guessed you’d be along soon, sir. I’m Cruz. That’s Roley Figgis by the pump. We’re real upset about what happened here last night. Should’ve been emptied right away, but Lieutenant Sears said it was OK to do it today. Would’ve had it completed by mid-morning ’cept the Redcaps wouldn’t let us near until half an hour ago.’
    Tom nodded. ‘So you’re the guy who made the shark and other fearsome creatures?’
    He grinned. ‘My old man used to fashion them for us kids. I got four brothers and three sisters. When Mr Sears said we had to put on some sort of show to keep level with the others, I got this up with Roley.’ His grin widened. ‘Better than blowing things to bits as a demo of what Sappers do, eh?’
    â€˜How well did you know Phil Keane?’
    Cruz was unfazed by the sudden question. ‘Never heard of him until the Redcaps woke me up middle of the night asking where I’d been after we finished here. Apart from our Field Section I don’t know any regimental guys ’cept other athletes.’ His grin broke out again. ‘I’m a sprinter and hurdler. Inter-Services champion two years ago.’
    â€˜I’ll need details of where you obtained the materials for creating those models, and the names of everyone who was in any way involved in their manufacture. While you get your brain around that, I’ll talk to Sar’nt Figgis.’
    The diver had moved up on to the platform where he was taking the shark, sea snakes, conger eels and other synthetic creatures from two men in swim trunks who had entered the quarter-filled tank to get them.
    Tom climbed the metal steps to the platform. ‘Roland Figgis?’
    The Sergeant studied Tom’s starched white shirt and grey trousers, but clearly did not identify the Corps tie for he asked somewhat harshly, ‘Who the hell are you?’
    Tom told him equally harshly and was gratified by the immediate change of manner. ‘Sorry, sir, this business has shaken me up. Cruz and I were willing to clear this last night – we hadn’t any plans – but Lieutenant Sears said to leave it. He was insistent. Said we’d need a rest after a heavy day. Well, I was pretty knackered. Been at it since mid-morning. Needed a feed, too. Best to operate in water with empty guts. Soon as we finished here, Cruz and I had some nosh, played a couple of games of darts, checked our emails then hit the sack.’
    â€˜So how well did you know Philip Keane?’
    Same unfazed response. ‘Never heard of him until now.’ Figgis’s tanned face registered curiosity tinged with concern. ‘Why would someone choose to kill him with that bloody jellyfish? Points the finger at us, doesn’t it? The Section’s only been here two months and we’ve had blokes on staggered leave for most of that time, so what’s the deal with using our gear for it?’
    â€˜You’ll know when we find out,’ said Tom, keeping quiet the fact that Keane had not been killed in the tank, just dumped there later.