by LJ Ross
“Where is he now?”
“Otterburn,” Wilson said, unhappily. “He’s at the barracks for a meeting.”
Ryan turned to Phillips, who was already getting up from his chair.
“Frank? With me. The rest of you, report to DI MacKenzie.”
They left the room at a run.
CHAPTER 34
Otterburn Training Camp and Barracks was located in the countryside to the north-west of the city of Newcastle, in the heart of the Northumberland National Park and a stone’s throw from Ryan’s home in Elsdon. It covered more than ninety square miles and was used to train thirty thousand soldiers per year. Being the UK’s largest firing range for weaponry including AS-90 Artillery and M270 Multiple Launch Rocket Systems, that made it simultaneously one of the most beautiful and most dangerous parts of the county.
It took twenty minutes for Ryan and Phillips to negotiate the city’s road diversions, but as soon as they hit the motorway Ryan put the pedal to the floor.
“If I die before my time, I’m tellin’ Denise it’s all your fault,” Phillips said, clutching a hand on the door. “Ever heard of the Highway Code?”
“You worry too much,” Ryan said, as they flew past a BMW.
“There! That just proves my point,” Phillips said, as it became a speck in the rear-view mirror. “You know you’ve lost the plot when you’re overtaking BMW and Audi drivers because everybody knows they’re the most obnoxious.”
“What about the blokes who drive a Volvo and stick so rigidly to the speed limit that people think they’re drunk?”
“I just like to get from A to B with all my major organs intact,” Phillips grumbled.
“If you’re scared, close your eyes and I’ll tell you when we get there.”
Phillips pulled a face but, as he watched his friend manoeuvre, had to admit that an advanced police driving course had given him skills at the wheel he’d never quite had the nerve to try.
“What do you make of Nobel and this lass, Kayleigh?” he asked, changing the subject. “Can’t make out why he wouldn’t tell us about it.”
“Maybe he was ashamed?”
Phillips looked across at him and smiled at such naivety. He might have been fifteen years his junior, but Ryan was an old-fashioned kind of man. When he loved, he loved for life, and he couldn’t understand why some men strayed.
As it happened, he agreed with him, but he knew plenty who didn’t.
“Not everybody takes the same view on fidelity,” he said. “Gary could have been worried about his wife finding out, or many a thing.”
“I understand that,” Ryan said, guiding the car over dips and peaks as the road wound over the hills and they left the city far behind them. “Or, at least, I try to understand it.”
“Let’s hear him out,” Phillips said. “It looks bad but there could be an explanation.”
“I’m all ears,” Ryan said, and slowed as they came to the turning that would lead them to the south entrance of the training camp.
They followed a straight road across open fields lined with high, barbed-wire fencing until they came to a series of manned security gates. Ryan slowed the car and wound his window down to speak into the intercom, which was patchy, but eventually he was buzzed through to the next set of gates, where an armed soldier awaited their arrival.
“Bloody hell, it’s like Area 51,” Phillips muttered. “Wonder if they’re hiding UFOs somewhere around here.”
Ryan chuckled and wound his window down to greet the soldier who approached them with the kind of natural caution that came from having seen two tours of active service.
“Help you, lads?”
Ryan’s eyes were drawn briefly to the sight of a mermaid tattoo curling its way around the man’s neck.
“We’re here to see Captain Nobel,” he said, and reeled off the regiment.
“Got any ID?”
“Sure,” Ryan said, and both men produced their warrant cards, which were fully checked.
“Just wait there, please.”
He turned away to speak into his radio and then walked back across to stick his head through the driver’s window.
“Sorry, Chief Inspector, Captain Nobel isn’t currently on site. He was due to be in Newcastle, with you.”
Ryan frowned, while Phillips checked with MacKenzie to be sure that they hadn’t passed Nobel on the way.
“Nothing from CID,” Phillips confirmed. “There’s no word from him and he’s not answering his phone.”
Ryan looked back at the soldier.
“Does Nobel live at the barracks or does he have a place off-site?”
“Captain Nobel spends weekdays at the barracks but weekends at the house his family own,” he said, helpfully.
“D’you happen to know where it is?”
“Sure, it’s just in Otterburn Village, not far from the castle. Sorry, I don’t know the number or anything. Hey,” he thought belatedly. “The Cap’s not in trouble, is he?”
Ryan smiled thinly.
“Thanks for all your help.”
With that, he executed a swift U-turn and headed in the direction of the village.
* * *
They drove around for ten minutes looking for Gary Nobel’s Land Rover until they spotted it parked on one of the village side streets. It was sitting haphazardly outside a smart stone house with climbing wisteria around the front door that would be beautiful in bloom.
“There,” Phillips said.
“I see it,” Ryan replied, and pulled up beside Nobel’s car to block him in.
“Nice move,” Phillips said.
“This ain’t my first rodeo,” Ryan muttered, and walked up to the front door.
“Hasn’t he got kids?” Phillips asked, just as Ryan had raised his hand to press the bell.
“Bugger,” he replied. “That makes things harder. How old?”
Phillips racked his brain but, on reflection, couldn’t recall Nobel ever waxing lyrical about his home and family.
“Not sure.”
“Alright, let’s play this by ear,” Ryan decided. “Is there a back door to this place?”
Phillips nodded, pointing towards a side alley that led to a back courtyard.
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t make a run for it,” he said, and Ryan nodded.
The door didn’t open at first but after a series of persistent knocks and ringing of the bell, it was finally flung open to reveal a blonde woman in her mid-thirties with a face that was obviously ravaged by tears.
“Look, just go away! We’re not interested in whatever you’re trying to sell. Stop ringing the bell!”
Ryan put a foot in the door, when she would have slammed it in his face.
“I’m here to see Gary,” he said, quickly. “I’m DCI Ryan. He’s been working with us on the bombings in Newcastle.”
To his surprise, she started to cackle; a hysterical sound that soon dissolved into fresh tears.
“I’ll bet he has,” she said. “He’s been working such long hours, lately, I wondered who to blame. Turns out, it wasn’t you at all.”
She knows, Ryan deduced, but it hardly took Sherlock Holmes to work that one out.
“Is he at home?”
“Oh yes. Come in and see our happy home,” she said, in a brittle voice.
Ryan stepped inside and looked around the room, his eye falling on a little boy of three or four sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the television, holding his hands to his ears.
She followed the direction of his gaze and Maddy Nobel held her head in her hands, hating herself and the man who had caused them nothing but heartbreak.
“Nobel?”
Ryan didn’t bother to wait but stepped quickly through the rooms of the house until he came to the kitchen.
And found Gary halfway out of the back door.
“Wait!”
Ryan dashed after him as he ran through the back garden, making for the wooden gate at the end. In his peripheral vision, Ryan spotted a Wendy house and a
small climbing frame with a single swing.
“Gary!”
Ryan slowed down as he reached the back gate, already anticipating what was to come. When Nobel wrenched the gate open, he found there was nowhere to run, except directly into Phillips’ barrel of a chest.
“Going somewhere, son?”
Phillips held him easily and Ryan caught up with them both, eyeing the man with intense dislike.
“You lied by omission,” he said, without any kind of preamble. “You tried to run because you knew we would find out, didn’t you, Gary?”
Nobel looked wretched.
“I wanted to be the first to tell Maddy. I didn’t want her finding out from someone else.”
“How touching,” Ryan said.
“Aye, spoken like a true gent,” Phillips remarked.
Nobel swallowed, looking over at the kitchen doorway where his wife of ten years stood with his son in one hand and their baby girl in the other.
“Time to go, Gary. You’re coming in for questioning. You can either do it voluntarily or under arrest; it’s up to you.”
“I’ll come in,” the man replied, wearily.
“Sounds like that’s the first good decision you’ve made lately.”
CHAPTER 35
The air inside Interview Room C was both stuffy and cold, a feat that was achieved by a re-circulating air conditioning vent which pumped stale air in a constant, germ-laden whirlwind around the four people seated at a table in the middle.
Ryan had taken MacKenzie in to conduct the interview with Nobel on the basis that, at the very least, it should teach the man a lesson in humility. They were joined by his solicitor, a heavy-set man they recognised from several other investigations as being long on fees and short on legal knowledge.
And that was just fine.
“Mr Nobel, I’d like to start by asking you why you chose to withhold information during an active police investigation,” MacKenzie began, diving straight into it. “Why did you choose not to tell us that you had intimate knowledge of one of the Millennium Bridge Attack victims, Kayleigh-Ann Dobson?”
“I didn’t think it was relevant,” he muttered. “It was a private matter.”
MacKenzie leaned forward, linking her fingers atop the metal table.
“Y’ see, that’s where you’re wrong, Gary,” she said. “Kayleigh-Ann was a victim of one of the worst crimes ever committed in this city. As a member of the team investigating her death, you had both a moral and a legal responsibility to tell us of your association with her. Why didn’t you?”
“As my client has already told you, he mistakenly believed that his private relationship with the deceased had no bearing on the case.”
MacKenzie ignored the solicitor completely and continued to stare at Gary with disarming green eyes.
“I don’t think that’s true, is it, Gary? Which is unfortunate because, as you know, we police have a nasty habit of drawing adverse inferences when people omit to tell us the full truth.”
“Is that a threat?” his solicitor boomed, for dramatic effect.
MacKenzie turned to look at him and in the long silence that followed, she watched a flush slowly develop from the folds of skin at the man’s neck all the way up his face.
“It’s a fact,” she said. “Made worse by your client’s inability to provide a reasonable explanation for his failure to inform us of key information while having privileged access to our investigation.”
“Yeah, convenient, wasn’t it, Gary?” Ryan picked up the cue and rolled with it. “You must have thought Christmas had come early when the call came through from Control. Did you laugh, while you pressed the detonator, Gary?”
Nobel’s face went hot and then cold.
“I—if you think that I was the one, you must be bloody crazy.”
“Now, now,” MacKenzie said. “Language.”
“I disarm bombs, I don’t make them!” Nobel almost shouted, making to get up from his chair. “I don’t have to answer any more questions from you.”
“Alright,” Ryan said, and turned to MacKenzie. “Do you want to do the honours?”
She opened her mouth as if to make a formal arrest, but Nobel held out a hand.
“Wait—wait. Just hold on a minute. I need to think.”
“Thinking time’s over, Gary,” Ryan threw back. “Where were you this morning, between the hours of two and four a.m.?”
Gary lifted a hand in mute appeal, then let it drop again.
“I was with her. With Kayleigh. I told Maddy—my wife—that I was still needed in the city to oversee checks of the bridges. I was at Kayleigh’s flat until the morning. I’d only just left when the call came through about…about what had happened.”
“And you must have known she’d be on that bridge, all along. You never showed even a hint of surprise, or remorse,” Ryan said, with contempt.
“Mighty convenient that your alibi can’t be verified, either,” MacKenzie hit back. “Kayleigh isn’t here to confirm that, is she?”
“It’s the truth!” Nobel shouted, and his solicitor placed a hand on his arm.
“You’ve got a short temper, haven’t you, Gary?” MacKenzie whispered, and leaned even further forward, getting into his space. “You don’t much like women, either, do you?”
His solicitor blustered.
“That has nothing to do with the matters in hand,” he said.
“Maybe it does,” she argued, holding eye contact with her quarry. “You love and hate us, don’t you Gary? You love conquering us and you love it when we tell you how big and strong you are but, the fact is, you resent it when we bite back. You don’t like any woman telling you what to do, isn’t that right, Gary?”
His lip curled, and he shook his head.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think I do. You like to have a woman at home, somebody you know will always be there to look after your needs, your wants, your children—”
He pointed a finger at her face and Ryan tensed in his chair, ready to step in if needed.
“You don’t bring my children into this,” Nobel shouted.
“You brought them into it the moment you took the decision to kill Kayleigh-Ann and expose your family to an investigation,” MacKenzie said. “Why, Gary? Was she threatening you? Was she pressuring you to get a divorce?”
“No! Yes. I mean, she wanted me to divorce Maddy but…I wouldn’t kill her for that! What the hell do you take me for?”
“Did she tell you about the baby, Gary? Was that it?”
Ryan watched him closely for a reaction.
“What?” Nobel repeated, sounding confused. “Kayleigh wasn’t pregnant.”
“You expect us to believe you didn’t know?” MacKenzie said, though she was starting to suspect that he hadn’t. “It would have ruined your marriage, if Kayleigh told your wife. Isn’t that true?”
Nobel rubbed both hands over his face and then into his hair, which stood at all angles in contrast to his usual immaculate grooming.
“I didn’t know she was pregnant. I swear, I didn’t know,” he said, in a very low voice. “Poor kid.”
They realised he was thinking of Kayleigh-Ann and Ryan put a finger on the table, a silent signal to MacKenzie that they should hold off and let him speak.
“I would never leave Maddy,” Nobel continued, quietly. “She’s my everything. It’s just that, lately, since we had the baby, it hasn’t been the same. She’s always tired. And then… I’d seen Kayleigh around when I was in court giving evidence this one time. I don’t know…it seemed like fate, that’s all.”
MacKenzie looked at Nobel with unconcealed repugnance. Here was a man who epitomised the very reason why she’d avoided any long-term relationships for so long, until she’d met Frank. How different they were, she thought. Years earlier, when they’d only been friends and work colleagues, she’d seen how Frank had nursed and cared for his first wife as she’d succumbed to terminal cancer. She’d seen
him grieve, seen him forego drinks at work or nights out with his friends, so he could be with her when it mattered. Watching such devotion had probably been the reason why she’d started to fall in love with him in the first place.
There, she thought, was a man worth having.
“Much as my heart is bleeding for you, Gary, it still leaves us with a problem,” Ryan said. “As far as I can see, you have a motive, the means to set this whole thing up and, what’s more, you had the opportunity.”
“I told you, I was with Kayleigh.”
“Unless there happens to be footage of you entering and leaving Kayleigh’s apartment building, we have no way of verifying that.”
Ryan exchanged a glance with MacKenzie, who nodded. He had given them no choice but to hold him, pending further investigation.
“Gary Nobel, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murders of John Walsh, Pritesh Joshi, Anouk Paradis and Kayleigh-Ann Dobson. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
“I don’t believe this!” he shouted, thrusting up from his chair. “Cheating on my wife doesn’t make me a murderer!”
“Yeah, but it makes you a liar,” Ryan observed. “And a man who can lie as readily as you is capable of lying about plenty of other things.”
CHAPTER 36
DCI Tebbutt pulled up outside a neat house with a well-tended garden and a brand-new car sitting on the driveway. It looked just like any other house in the area; built sometime in the nineties and just starting to weather around the edges. Some of them had solar panels but the Lowersons hadn’t opted for that, just yet.
She told her sergeant to remain in the car for now, having already made a judgment call about the best way to approach the task that lay ahead.
And it was no easy task.
She drew in a deep breath and made her way up the short pathway to the front door, which swung open even before she’d had a chance to ring the bell.
“Good afternoon, Mr Lowerson. I was hoping for a word, if I may?”
“Aye, all right. Come in,” he said. “Is there any news?”
