Not Dead Yet

Pavilion?’
    ‘I’m on my way there now, sir.’
    ‘I don’t like the sound of it at all.’
    ‘No, sir. I can call you back and give you an update after I get there.’
    ‘Yes, please do.’
    A few minutes later he drove into the Pavilion grounds, which were ablaze with blue flashing lights. A large crowd of onlookers was gathered along the far side of the perimeter wall, camera flashes popping intermittently. Two PCSOs were busily cordoning off the entire Royal Pavilion building, and another was already in situ as a scene guard. A dozen bewildered-looking people, film crew he supposed, were milling around on the lawn beneath the darkening sky which was threatening rain, some making phone calls, some smoking. A police van, laden with uniformed officers, siren wailing, turned into the archway as he got out of his car.
    Andrew Gulli was standing beside the scene guard. As Grace approached he said, ‘This goddamn officious bastard won’t let me through.’
    ‘I’m sorry,’ Grace said. ‘Until we’ve established what happened, we’re treating this whole building as a crime scene; I can’t allow you in. My advice would be to get Gaia and Roan back to the safety of their hotel.’
    Gulli shook his head. ‘The director’s asked her to wait – they may shoot some exterior footage tonight.’
    ‘In that case keep a very close eye on her. Put her security guards around her trailer.’
    ‘That’s already in place.’
    Grace signed the log, ducked under the tape, and hurried through the front of the building. A security guard directed him to the Banqueting Room and Tingley greeted him as he entered. He observed several fire officers working around the edges of the huge, fallen chandelier, and two paramedics on their stomachs in the middle of the debris. He heard the whine of hydraulic cutting gear. Three police officers seemed to be taking down details of the people in the room. ‘What’s the latest?’ he asked.
    ‘The victim’s died, sir,’ Tingley said, quietly.
    ‘Shit. What information do we have about him?’ He looked up, then back at the DI. ‘Was he part of the film crew?’
    ‘Not from what I’ve been able to find out so far. Two of thesecurity guards said he appeared from a part of the building not open to the public, in panic. He punched one of the guards who tried to apprehend him in the corridor, ran into this room and pushed Gaia’s son clear seconds before the chandelier came down.’
    ‘What was the boy doing in here?’
    ‘Playing, while his mother was in make-up.’
    ‘He’s safe and unhurt?’
    ‘Yes, he’s back with his mother.’
    ‘This man – show me where he came from.’
    Tingley pointed to the corridor Grace had just walked along.
    A voice from behind startled them. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, I can’t believe this.’
    Both detectives turned to see a tall, elegant man in his fifties, in a chalk-striped suit, come into the room. He was looking ashen. ‘This was King George’s worst nightmare. I can’t believe it.’ Then he looked at them both. ‘I’m David Barry, the Curator of this building.’
    Grace and Tingley introduced themselves.
    Barry looked up at the ceiling. ‘This is isn’t possible. I’m sorry, it’s just not possible. Oh God. Oh my God! There’s someone trapped underneath – what is the poor man’s condition?’
    ‘The paramedics say he’s died, I’m afraid,’ Tingley responded.
    ‘This is terrible. Unbelievable.’ He looked at the two men. ‘You have to understand, you must believe me when I tell you this is simply not possible!’
    Jason Tingley pointed at the wreckage and said, pragmatically, ‘I’m finding that a little hard to accept at this moment, sir.’
    Roy Grace found it a little hard to accept, too. The man had punched a security guard in the corridor and then run into this room. It was impossible to see the chandelier from the corridor. So what did the man know – whoever he was – and how?
    ‘Was this chandelier checked regularly?’ Grace asked Barry. ‘Does someone carry out safety checks on the fixings?’
    The Curator raised his arms, helplessly and bewildered. ‘Well, I mean, every five years the entire thing is cleaned. All fifteen thousand lustres – it takes about two months.’
    ‘Could it be metal fatigue?’ Jason Tingley said.
    ‘We carry out safety checks regularly on everything,’ Barry said.‘Queen Victoria had the original shaft replaced with aluminium. We never had any reason to change