by D. S. Butler
“What’s your feeling about Noah Thorne?” Tyler asked.
“My first impression was that he was a self-centred young man. My impression of him worsened when I saw him shouting some pretty crude comments at Melissa West. He threatened to throw her down the stairs.”
Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Was it a genuine threat?”
Mackinnon shrugged. “There was plenty of venom in his voice when he spoke, but I’d guess it was an angry comment made in the heat of the moment. Though you can never be too sure.”
Mackinnon was well aware that it was easy to say something in anger and not mean it. He was also very aware of cases where women had been in fear for their lives and the police and authorities hadn’t taken their concerns seriously, dismissing threats as something said in the heat of the moment. He didn’t want to make that mistake here. It wasn’t possible to really understand what motivated some people. And there was no denying that Noah Thorne had made that threat against Melissa while in the presence of three police officers.
“I wouldn’t like to say whether the threat was genuine or not,” Mackinnon added.
“Fair enough,” Tyler said. “Can you turn the air-conditioning up a bit? It’s stifling in here.”
Mackinnon shook his head as he indicated right and turned into Port Street. “Afraid not. It’s on full at the moment.”
“Why is it so hot? The sun’s going down.” Tyler rubbed a hand over his sweaty forehead.
“Well, you know the English weather. It will probably be five degrees and pouring with rain next week, and we’ll be moaning about that.”
Tyler gave a wry smile. “Probably.”
“Any news on Janice?” Mackinnon asked.
Tyler grunted. “She did reply, finally. She said she’s feeling a little better.”
“Good news.”
“Not for me. She’s hardly likely to give me another chance after I poisoned her, is she?”
“Maybe. She sounds like a nice woman. She might give you a second chance.”
“I’m not really sure I deserve one,” Tyler said grumpily as they pulled up outside Great Arthur House.
Tyler looked up at the bright yellow cladding and put his hand on the door handle. “Right. Let’s go and see if we can catch ourselves a killer.”
Noah Thorne opened the door and blinked at the sight of the two police officers in front of him, his eyes narrowing when he recognised Mackinnon. “You again,” he said, his upper lip curling in disgust. “I’m going to have you for harassment. You’ve got no right to keep turning up at my place and—”
“I think you’ll find we have every right, sunshine,” DI Tyler said, holding up his warrant card and introducing himself.
“This is ridiculous. You can’t keep coming around here and disturbing me.”
“Noah, we have a warrant to search your flat,” Mackinnon said calmly. “I suggest you calm down and step outside so we can start the search.”
“No chance. I’m not letting you in there on your own. Knowing you lot, you’ll probably plant evidence.”
“You’re welcome to stay inside while we search,” Mackinnon said, “as long as you keep your temper under control. Understood?”
Noah’s head whipped around to look at Tyler again. “Well, I know you’re a detective sergeant,” he said, jerking his thumb at Mackinnon. “But who is this guy? He could be anyone.”
“Pay attention, lad,” Tyler snapped. “I just showed you my warrant card and introduced myself.”
Noah pulled a face. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t catch it,” he said sarcastically. “I was too concerned with the unwarranted police victimisation.”
“You’re the victim?” Tyler asked dryly.
“My girlfriend has just died, and you’re treating me in such an appalling way that—”
“Your ex-girlfriend, Mr Thorne,” Tyler said. “That’s an important distinction, don’t you think?”
Noah’s face turned bright red, and he gritted his teeth and muttered a curse under his breath.
“Please stand aside, sir, so we can search the premises,” Mackinnon said.
“No!” Noah Thorne smiled, stepping forward, getting up close and into Mackinnon’s personal space, and glared up at him. “Who. Do. You. Think. You. Are? You can’t come in. I don’t give you my permission.”
“We don’t need your permission,” Tyler said.
Trying to diffuse the situation, Mackinnon said, “Noah, we have a warrant to search your property. Now you can do this the hard way, or you can invite us inside and tell us where Ashley’s laptop is.”
At the mention of the laptop, Noah fell quiet and took a step back. He looked down at the ground.
If Mackinnon had any doubts that Ashley’s laptop was here and that the app had been wrong, they now disappeared.
After a brief hesitation, Noah Thorne stepped aside. “Fine, but you’re victimising the wrong person. I didn’t have anything to do with Ashley’s murder. To be honest, I’m not even sure it is a murder. You haven’t shown me any evidence. She could have just been mugged and killed in a random attack.”
Mackinnon didn’t bother to comment. If it had been a random attack, which he didn’t believe, it would still have been murder. He strode inside the flat, and Tyler followed him. “Are you going to show us where this laptop is, Noah?”
Noah was fuming. He folded his arms over his chest and then let them drop to the side again as he paced the hallway. He knew he wasn’t going to get out of this without showing them where the laptop was. Even if they had to tear the flat apart, they would find it.
Finally, he stalked into the bedroom, kneeled beside the bed, and opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand.
He pulled out a silver MacBook and threw it on the bed. “There! Happy now?”
“Thank you,” Mackinnon said. “Now, we’re going to have a little look around the property when the rest of the search team get here.”
The intercom sounded. “That’s probably the rest of the search team. I’ll let them in, shall I?” Tyler asked and strode off down the hallway without waiting for an answer.
“If you’re as innocent as you say you are, Noah, why didn’t you tell me you had Ashley’s laptop when I came to see you?”
“Because it’s none of your business.”
“We’re trying to solve Ashley’s murder. Her laptop could hold vital evidence.”
Noah refused to meet Mackinnon’s gaze, and he guessed that was exactly what Noah was afraid of. He thought the laptop did hold evidence. Evidence against him.
“Have you used this laptop since Ashley went missing?” Mackinnon asked.
“No,” Noah said solemnly.
“You should tell the truth, Noah. Because the people in our tech department will be able to tell.”
“I told you, I didn’t. I don’t know the password.”
Mackinnon looked at Noah through narrowed eyes as the rest of the search team streamed into the flat.
“What’s all this? You can’t let all these people into my flat. It’s not fair. They’ll make a mess!”
“That should be the least of your worries, Noah,” Tyler said.
“I don’t believe this. You’re just focusing on me because you’re too lazy to do any real detective work. You’ll never find Ashley’s killer at this rate. Maybe I should tell her parents just how incompetent you really are.”
Tyler stepped forward and put a firm hand on Noah’s arm. “Noah Thorne, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Ashley Burrows.”
Mackinnon watched in surprise as Tyler read Noah his rights. They hadn’t discussed an arrest on the way here. Yes, they had discovered Ashley’s laptop, but was that enough for an arrest? Obviously, Tyler thought so.
Tyler led Noah outside and into the lift.
For once, Noah was silent. His arrest was as much of a surprise to him as it was to Mackinnon.
When Noah was safely in the back seat of the car and Tyler had shut the door, Mackinnon sai
d quietly, “I wasn’t expecting that. Do you think we played our hand too soon?”
Tyler shrugged as he walked around to the passenger seat. “Maybe, but it wiped that smug look off his face, didn’t it? I don’t like him, Jack. He’s hiding something, and we’re going to find out exactly what it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
When they arrived back at Wood Street Station, DI Tyler took Noah to the custody suite to get him booked in, and Mackinnon took a few minutes to call Chloe.
Her voicemail cut in before she answered. He left a message.
It was going to be a long night.
Now they had Noah Thorne in custody, they needed to come up with an interview plan to make the most of the time they had with him. He would need appropriate breaks, and they wouldn’t be able to start interviewing him until his solicitor was present.
Mackinnon dialled Derek’s number to let him know he’d be late.
“No problem,” Derek said. “You’ve got your key, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. I’ll try to be as quiet as possible when I get home. Oh, and can I use your washing machine?”
“Oh, sure… why?”
“An interesting job today. I spoke to a pest controller and went to a flat infested with bedbugs. He recommended that I wash all my clothes at sixty degrees.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding. You can’t bring them back here.”
“It’s only a precaution. Besides, if I had picked anything up, they’d probably have dropped off before now.”
“Fantastic. If you introduce bedbugs into my flat, you’re paying to get rid of them, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll pay. But I’m sure you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Mackinnon self-consciously scratched his elbow and then studied the skin, checking for bumps and bite marks, but there was nothing.
“All right, it’s programme four on the washing machine for a sixty-degree wash.”
“Cheers. Is there anything you need me to pick up on the way home?”
“No, I’ve got a date tonight, so I might be back even later than you if I’m lucky.”
“All right. So I may or may not see you later. Have a good night.”
Mackinnon hung up and then tried Chloe again. This time she answered.
“Sorry, Jack. I was on the landline.”
“That’s all right. I thought I’d try and get you before I go back into the station. It’s going to be a late one.”
“Good or bad?” Chloe asked.
“Good, hopefully. We’ve arrested a suspect.”
“Right, that’s good.”
“Is everything okay? You sound distracted.”
Chloe sighed. “I had a row with Sarah yesterday, and she didn’t come home last night.”
“Oh.” Mackinnon didn’t really know what to say. The fact that Chloe had had yet another row with her eldest daughter wasn’t really a surprise, but despite Sarah’s prickly nature, she was still Chloe’s daughter. Like any mother, Chloe constantly worried about her children.
“She’s probably fine, just punishing me,” Chloe said. “But I wish she’d let me know she was all right.”
“Any jobs on the horizon?” Mackinnon asked hopefully. Since Sarah had now been turfed out of university, it seemed logical she would be on the lookout for a job. So far, she didn’t have a conviction for stealing the money, so he hoped it wouldn’t hinder her employment prospects.
“You’ve got to be joking. What she does is lie in bed till midday and then spend the rest of her time smoking in the garden and sniping at Katy and me. You know what she’s been like recently.”
Mackinnon did. He’d never known sisters to be so different. Katy was studious, hard-working, and a very loving child, whereas Sarah was prickly, difficult, and sometimes plain nasty.
“Do you need me to come home?” Mackinnon offered. He felt guilty for hoping Chloe said no.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “I’m just going to have a hot bath, probably drink a bottle of wine, and get an early night.”
“All right. Well, call me if there’s any more news. Otherwise, I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”
“All right. Take care. Bye.”
Mackinnon hung up and shoved his mobile in his pocket. There was a time when he would look forward to getting back to Oxford and spending time with Chloe and Katy, but since Sarah had moved back home, things were different.
Logic told him that Sarah would be fine. She’d been out of contact many times in the past. But he couldn’t push away the niggling worry that this time, she could be in trouble.
He turned, pushed through the double doors, and headed back inside Wood Street Station. He passed Charlotte on the way.
“Heading home?” he asked.
She nodded and smothered a yawn. “Yes, I hear you and Tyler arrested Noah Thorne.”
Mackinnon nodded. “Yeah, it came as a bit of a surprise to me, to be honest. I think it might have had something to do with Tyler’s bad mood, recent food poisoning, and his being upset about Janice. Noah’s attitude was the last straw.”
“Do you think we’ve got enough on him to make any charges stick?”
“It depends on what we find on that laptop. Hopefully Tyler can push that through urgently, and we’ll get some answers.”
“Who is going to be interviewing him?”
“Tyler and me, I think. So I’d better get upstairs and help prepare the interview plan.”
“Good luck, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Charlotte said, yawning again and walking towards the exit.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlotte stepped out of the lift, turned left, and pressed the doorbell.
She was supposed to have arrived at her Nan’s flat over an hour and a half ago, but she hadn’t been able to get away.
Nan answered the door. “Hello, darling. You look tired.”
“I am,” Charlotte said as she stepped inside. “We’ve got a big case on at the moment, which is why I’m late. Sorry.”
“Well, I’ve got just the thing for you. I picked up pie and mash from Maureen’s in Chrisp Street today. I thought you deserved a treat.” As Nan walked up the hallway, she turned back and looked at Charlotte over her shoulder with a smile. “I recorded Corrie for you, too.”
Charlotte beamed. True, she was an adult, but she still enjoyed being spoiled by her Nan. “Perfect.”
“The pie’s in the oven, so I just need to heat up the mash and liquor.”
Charlotte went to the bathroom to wash her hands as Nan used the microwave to heat up the liquor.
When she returned to the kitchen, Charlotte said, “You didn’t wait for me, did you?”
Nan shook her head as she carefully removed the steaming hot liquor from the microwave. “No, I ate mine hours ago. Here you go.”
Nan handed her the pot of liquor, and Charlotte poured it all over the pie and mash, then added lashings of vinegar on top. It smelled divine.
She carried the piled high plate through to the living room on a tray.
“How have you been?” Charlotte asked as she settled on the sofa.
Nan sank into an armchair. “Good, thanks, darling. I met one of my old friends for coffee this morning. Haven’t seen her in nearly twenty-five years. Funnily enough, she’s moved back to London, so now she’s living just around the corner again.”
“That’s good,” Charlotte said. “Mostly you hear about people moving away from London.”
Nan nodded. “Yes, most of my friends moved away years ago. But I was always a Londoner at heart. I don’t mind a visit to the country, but any longer than a week or two and I get homesick.”
Charlotte smiled. She was just the same. She dug into the pie and mash as Nan used the remote to start Corrie playing on the television.
Nan had a fan going in the corner of the room which gave some respite from the heat. They sat in comfortable silence watching the soap as Charlotte ate her dinner.
Though Charlotte was comfortable and enjoying her meal, someth
ing was bugging her.
Mackinnon hadn’t seemed his usual self tonight. She was pretty sure that had something to do with his partner’s daughter. Sarah, as Charlotte’s Nan would say, was a proper little madam.
It was times like this when Charlotte was glad she was single and childless.
Since he’d met Chloe, Mackinnon’s life seemed to have been taken over by her children. It couldn’t have been easy for him adapting to a ready-made family, although from the sounds of it, Katy sounded like a lot of fun. But Sarah—Sarah sounded like trouble.
Charlotte polished off the last of the pie and gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.
She turned to smile at Nan. “That was absolutely gorgeous. Thank you.”
She took the tray back out to the kitchen, scraped off the remaining mash into the bin, and washed the plate.
She wondered how Mackinnon and Tyler were getting on questioning Noah Thorne.
In most cases, the killer was someone known to the victim, and Noah Thorne fitted the profile, but to Charlotte, it seemed like they were missing something. Some vital piece of the puzzle. Perhaps when they finally managed to view the rest of the CCTV, they’d get their answers.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The following day at seven thirty a.m., Dr Wendy Willson sat in the meeting room of the doctor’s surgery.
The practice manager sat in the chair beside her. Dr Melling and Dr Todman shared a joke as Dr Farquhar called the meeting to order.
Wendy waited patiently as the practice manager described the new telephone system she was having installed next week.
Then she listened to Dr Farquhar as he covered the statistics on new patients and the urgent care and referrals they had dealt with last week.
They had a brief discussion about the new procedures implemented for the COPD clinic, and finally Dr Farquhar turned the floor over to the rest of the doctors.
“Does anyone have any issues they would like to discuss?”
“I do,” Wendy said. She’d attempted to speak to Dr Farquhar about her concerns over Brendan Maynard. But Dr Farquhar had dismissed her, undermining her fears.
