‘And …?’
‘Ends up snapping at the thinnest bit.’
Straker nodded as if this was merely confirmation. ‘And you would expect that effect to be evident at the point where Sabatino hit the wire?’
Backhouse nodded.
‘What do you make of this, then?’ asked Straker as he clicked the next photograph and enlarged the image.
It showed the ragged edge of the wire fence.
‘Good God,’ bleated Backhouse. ‘Every other strand of that mesh has a thick – flat – end.’
Straker nodded with a reassured smile.
‘Meaning what?’ asked McMahon, still uneasy at Straker's reconnaissance of the police-impounded site.
‘That mesh had been partially cut,’ said Backhouse. ‘The strands that were left connected did stretch under the forces of impact – you can see, here … and here – their ends tapering down to a point – meaning they were so stretched they eventually thinned down to nothing and broke. These wires – with the flat ends – show that they were not stretched. They played no part in slowing Sabatino's car – because they had been cut beforehand.’
McMahon's face changed with this unexpected analysis. ‘Are you saying this fence was weakened?’
‘And that's not all,’ said Straker in reply flicking through more images on the phone. He selected his close-up of the intact “I”-sectioned upright – the stanchion next to the impacted one. ‘Look here,’ he said pointing to the middle of the upright. ‘See the ties – the fastenings – used to fix the wire mesh to the upright?’
There was a series of nods.
Straker switched to the next close-up. ‘Now look at the top of this same upright. The tie here is missing – presumably ripped away under the force of Sabatino hitting the fence?’
McMahon leant in for a closer look.
‘Look at the paint under it,’ said Straker. ‘Do you see? It's been scraped off; the tie and the post putting up something of a fight before breaking and being ripped away. Now,’ said Straker pulling up his next image, ‘this is the stanchion she actually hit – right in the firing line of the impact. Take a look at it. Tell me what you see.’
‘There's one scrape mark there,’ pointed Backhouse, ‘in the middle of the post.’
‘How many ties should there be?’ asked McMahon.
Straker flicked the image back to the previous “I”-sectioned upright. ‘This is the clean stanchion.’
‘Five.’
‘So where are the other ties on the impact post?’ McMahon asked.
‘Exactly what I’d like to know,’ replied Straker.
‘Fuck me,’ said Backhouse. ‘Were they cut too?’
‘I could see only one tie – of a possible five – on the upright in the middle of the impact point.’
‘What would that do to the fence?’ asked McMahon.
Backhouse answered: ‘Cutting every other strand of the mesh and removing the ties which were meant to hold it to that post would significantly reduce the fence's ability to withstand an impact.’
‘Meaning it would give way easier?’
‘Precisely.’
‘So you’re saying that the fence was weakened, then?’
Straker looked at Backhouse and then at McMahon.
‘Deliberately?’
Straker saw from McMahon's face that his evidence was starting to make its point. He flicked on through his collection of images. ‘This is a picture of the breeze-block wall in the perimeter fence,’ he explained, showing an intact section of it some distance from the hole. ‘When a breeze-block wall breaks, the blocks – themselves – normally give way before the cement in between them does.’
McMahon's expression seemed to say: “So?”
‘Look at the breeze blocks on the ground, lying around the debris-side of the impact.’
Several pictures were flashed up and flicked on.
‘Christ,’ said Backhouse. ‘They’re all completely intact. Unbroken.’
Straker nodded.
‘Why would that be?’ McMahon asked.
Straker re-consulted the iPhone and tapped on one of his video clips; he pressed Play. In very dim light, it showed a breeze block in the middle of the screen. Straker's hand could be seen in the shot, placing a finger on the cement along the edge of the block.
Straker's fingernail ran along the cement edge of block dislodging the material easily. Straker stopped the clip. He shuffled awkwardly, trying to retrieve something from his pocket. Unfolding his rolled-up handkerchief, he held up some of the brown material they had just watched him scrape from the concrete block. ‘Here,’ he said, ‘take a look,’ and offered McMahon the sample.
