Borrowed Light

by Hurley, Graham

  This, Faraday knew, was the moment Gosling might falter. So far everything linked perfectly together, but was it really credible that Max Oobik would kill another human being simply because his mistress wanted to tidy things up?

  Oobik had grunted something incomprehensible. Faraday bent to the speaker, trying to smuggle himself into the room. Was he on the point of confession? Had McEwan, in his quiet Scots way, piled up the pressure of events until Oobik could no longer hide behind silence? Was this the moment Gosling crested the hill and began to motor towards its day in court?

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘I don’t believe you, Mr Oobik. I don’t believe you don’t remember. I believe you remember only too well. I believe you remember killing Johnny Holman. I believe you made a quick, simple job of it. I believe he didn’t struggle, didn’t bleed everywhere, didn’t make it hard for you. I believe Johnny Holman was dead before it got light, before you drove back to Cowes, and I believe something else. I believe you killed the girl too. I believe you killed Kaija Luik.’

  ‘No.’

  Faraday blinked. A response. Sharp. Emphatic. And deeply, deeply angry. Not just anger. Outrage.

  ‘No?’ McEwan’s innocent response hung in the air. Tell me more. Tell me what’s so suddenly got into you. Show me which nerve I just touched.

  Oobik appeared to have opted for silence again. McEwan wasn’t letting go.

  ‘You didn’t kill Kaija Luik?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘Tell me, Mr Oobik. Tell me why it was so important not to kill Kaija? After everything you’d just done to wee Johnny?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘But it was important, wasn’t it? Not to harm the girl? Not to kill her? That’s what you just told me. That’s what you said. You said no. You said you didn’t kill the girl. That means you wouldn’t kill the girl. The question is why. Why did you say that? Why should I believe it? Why is it true?’

  Faraday sat back, shaking his head. He’d suddenly realised what it was he’d been missing about Oobik. Suttle was still sitting beside him, a tiny frown of concentration on his face, trying to slot this tiny lowering of Oobik’s guard into everything else they knew and didn’t know about the events of last week.

  ‘The name, Jimmy.’

  ‘Whose name, boss?’

  ‘The girl’s. Kaija’s. The other day you told me Luik means swan.’

  ‘That’s what Sadler said, yes.’

  ‘OK.’ Faraday nodded, excited now. ‘And you know what Oobik means? In Estonian?’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Nightingale. It means nightingale. I’ve known it from way back. Rossignol in French. Ruiseñor in Spanish. Usignolo in Italian. And Oobik in Estonian.’

  ‘So?’ Suttle was lost.

  ‘Luik is the girl’s working name, her stage name if you like. She’s not Luik at all. That’s the name she chose. Another bird. Another beautiful bird. No longer a nightingale but a swan.’

  ‘So she’s really Kaija Oobik? Is that what you’re telling me?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Faraday nodded at the speaker. ‘Which makes her this guy’s sister.’

  Faraday called a halt to the interview several minutes later. While Oobik’s solicitor fetched a coffee for his client, the interview team plus Faraday, Suttle and the TIA, Ian Whatmore, squeezed into the monitoring room. They couldn’t be sure until they started on Lou Sadler, but in Faraday’s view it was a reasonable assumption that Max Oobik and Kaija Luik were brother and sister.

  ‘Where’s her passport, boss?’ This from McEwan.

  Faraday glanced at Suttle.

  ‘We never saw it,’ Suttle said. ‘And Sadler told us she hadn’t either.’

  ‘Credit cards? Any other ID?’

  ‘The girl’s disappeared. We never had a chance to look.’

  McEwan nodded. This kind of oversight happened more often than you might expect, but it took Faraday to draw the straightest line between the obvious dots.

  ‘This is why you rattled him over all the money he was supposed to be earning,’ he said to McEwan. ‘It wasn’t his money at all, it was his sister’s.’

  ‘Right, boss. I get you.’

  ‘And just now, when you hit him with the second murder, the girl’s, that’s why you shook him again. He wasn’t having it. No way would he kill his own sister.’

  ‘So why doesn’t he just tell us that?’

  ‘Because Sadler’s told him to go No Comment. That’s why she’s so relaxed. As long as he does what he’s told, they’re going to have no problem getting their stories straight. She’s obviously worked out what to tell us. All he has to do is tell us fuck all. That way it’s seamless.’

  There was a brief silence. On the speaker, they could hear Oobik’s brief returning with the coffees.

  ‘You’ve got to be right, boss.’ It was Jimmy Suttle. ‘This gives him the motive, doesn’t it? Oobik doesn’t like Holman at all. He’s all over his sister, he’s pissed most of the time, he’s pretty disgusting in every way you can imagine, and lately he’s not even paying her. Fuck, she might even have fallen in love with the old dosser. So suddenly, middle of the night, our Max has the chance to make everything right. And how does he do that? By taking the arsehole out. End of.’

  There was a knock on the door. The uniformed inspector who ran the custody centre wanted Faraday to know that Sadler’s brief had finally arrived, a full ninety minutes late. Before talking to his client he was demanding disclosure.

  ‘Believe me, Joe,’ he said, ‘you’re going to love this guy.’

  Benny Stanton was waiting in a side office reserved for visiting solicitors. He was early thirties, squat, loud, aggressive, gelled hair, ear stud, chalk-stripe suit, chunky watch. In the sleepy calm of the island’s only custody centre, he was deeply exotic.

  ‘So what have you got?’ He’d already helped himself to a coffee, didn’t bother with formal introductions.

  Faraday took the other seat across the table. He said that Lou Sadler had been arrested on suspicion of homicide. She had lied with respect to Kaija Luik’s real address, had been slow in producing important evidence and had a relationship with the other person suspected of murder. In the shape of a suspected consignment of cocaine, she had a motive for the killings, and in the shape of a rigid inflatable boat, she had the means of disposing of the body or bodies involved.

  Stanton was barely listening. When Faraday had finished, he smothered a yawn.

  ‘And that’s it? Fuck me, I should have stayed at home.’

  ‘Early start, was it?’ Faraday said heavily. ‘Bit of a struggle getting down here?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He shot Faraday a grin. ‘Where is she then? The old slapper?’

  The interview with Max Oobik terminated at 12.19. Every challenge from both McEwan and Patsy Lowe had been met with a stony ‘No comment.’ He wasn’t interested in their belief that Kaija Luik was his sister. Nor that he’d killed Johnny Holman to rid her of his attentions. Nor that he’d wrapped Holman’s body in dustbin liners, disposed of it at sea and returned to clean up the caravan. At the end of the interview, advised that a full account of what had really happened might work to his benefit in court, he’d simply shrugged.

  ‘No comment,’ he’d muttered, getting to his feet.

  Faraday had borrowed an office up on the first floor. The interview team gathered for a debrief, joined by Ellis and Yates, who were preparing for their first session with Lou Sadler. By now she’d been closeted with Benny Stanton for the best part of two hours.

  Faraday knew that he had to go for a custody extension on both suspects, an extra twelve hours that might enable him to feed in new material unearthed by the Outside Enquiries teams. In Oobik’s case this would give him the late afternoon and the evening for as many as two extra sessions. Sadler, on the other hand, was more problematic. Her thirty-six hours would run out at eight o’clock in the morning. Interviews rarely stretched beyond
eleven o’clock at night, at which point Sadler would be permitted eight hours’ sleep. Effectively, Faraday would be left with a tight last-chance three-hour window if the first two interviews hit a brick wall.

  He went round the room, wondering what two sessions with Oobik had won them.

  McEwan was the most optimistic. He’d been within touching distance of Oobik. He’d been watching the man very carefully. He’d seen what everyone else had seen: that Oobik was proud, angry and full of attitude. But he’d also sensed something else: that loyalty to Kaija probably came before loyalty to anyone else, even Lou Sadler, and that this hairline crack in his defences might be worth further exploration.

  Faraday wanted to know whether McEwan accepted the suggestion that Luik was probably Oobik’s sister.

  ‘Absolutely, boss. It makes perfect sense.’

  ‘Good. Everyone else happy with that?’

  Heads nodded around the room. Pressing Sadler on this small detail would be a priority, but in the meantime Luik’s photo and assumed new surname had gone to the Estonian police tagged urgent. Maybe, fingers crossed, she was already on file. Maybe not.

  Faraday moved on to Outside Enquiries. Early reports from the house-to-house team combing the handful of properties around Newtown Creek had been disappointing. No one remembered any night-time activity on or off the water over the past week, nor had the Harbour Master logged anything out of the ordinary. This of course didn’t rule out the transfer of a body from some other location but it certainly began to narrow the options.

  Bev Yates had a question about this first interview with Sadler. Did Faraday and Whatmore want Sadler hit from the off?

  ‘With what, Bev?’

  ‘With the girl’s real name? And whether or not she really owns a RIB?’

  ‘Absolutely. We’ve got to nail this stuff down. Otherwise the Outside Enquiries guys are running round in circles.’

  The interview with Sadler started at 12.41. Faraday was back in the monitoring room, with Suttle once again beside him. A text from Gabrielle on Faraday’s mobile had gone unanswered.

  Benny Stanton took his MO into the interview room. He wanted ice cubes in the glass of water for his client plus an understanding that any hint of oppressive questioning would jeopardise his client’s absolute preparedness to cooperate to the fullest. Ms Sadler, he said, would have happily attended any police station of their choice for an extended interview. The fact that they’d insisted on arresting her was, in his view, both aggressive and unnecessary.

  Faraday’s heart fell. He’d met this kind of tactic before. It often came with out-of-area briefs, especially from London. They stamped hard on the nearest throat and did their best to intimidate the opposition from the off. Neither Bev Yates nor Dawn Ellis was easily cowed, but Faraday knew that Stanton had already laid down an important marker. The next couple of hours, as he remarked to Suttle, were going to be far from easy.

  Bev Yates took the lead. He wanted to know whether Kaija Luik was the girl’s real name.

  ‘No.’ Sadler’s voice was low. Yates asked her to speak up. ‘I said no.’

  ‘So what was her real name?’

  Stanton objected at once. He said that Yates’ choice of tense was a gross supposition. This girl was alive and kicking unless anyone had the evidence to prove otherwise.

  ‘So what is her real name?’ Yates sounded weary already.

  ‘Oobik.’ Sadler was laughing.

  ‘And her first name?’

  ‘Maarika.’

  ‘And does she have a family relationship to Max Oobik?’

  ‘Yes. She’s his sister.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell us that to begin with?’

  ‘No one asked me.’

  ‘That’s not true, Ms Sadler. Detective Sergeant Suttle asked you on …’ there was a shuffle of paper ‘… Wednesday of last week.’

  ‘Did he? I must have been distracted at the time.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘Your Detective Sergeant arrived at an awkward moment. I was otherwise engaged.’

  ‘She means she was shagging.’ It was Stanton. ‘She’s a bit shy that way, our Lou.’

  ‘So why did you let D/S Suttle in?’

  ‘I thought he was someone else.’

  ‘Would that have made a difference?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Need I ask why?’

  ‘Ask whatever you like.’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘Because I was expecting an important parcel.’

  ‘I see.’

  Faraday shut his eyes. Yates had lost his thread. This was turning into a nightmare.

  ‘But why didn’t you clarify the girl’s name later?’

  ‘I’ve been too busy. No one asked.’

  ‘And the address you gave for her? The address in Darcy Road?’

  ‘That was different.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Some of my girls are sensitive. They get easily upset. Maarika was one of those girls. In that situation you don’t want them put under any kind of pressure.’

  ‘So you lied about her address? When you knew she was living somewhere else? Is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Exactly. And I’d probably do it again under similar circumstances. In fact I’m sure I would. I’m like a mother to some of them. Certainly to Maarika.’

  ‘But she’s got a brother, hasn’t she? Or that’s what you’ve just told us.’

  ‘Max is a man. I’m not. That can be important to a woman.’

  ‘Fine, Ms Sadler. I understand that. So tell me something else. Where does she live in Estonia?’

  ‘I haven’t the faintest.’

  ‘You don’t know where her home is? When you’re telling me you’re like a mother to her? You expect me to believe that?’

  ‘I do. Because it’s true. And if you can spare the time, I’ll tell you why.’

  Faraday nodded. This was getting better. Yates had revived, dragged himself off the ropes, started delivering the odd counterpunch. Sadler was a fluent liar, without either shame or fear, and had doubtless spent the last couple of hours rehearsing this little exchange. She’d yet to drop a single stitch, but these were still early days.

  Ellis had taken over. She wanted to know about Sadler’s interest in water sports. Did she by any chance own a RIB?

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  Sadler named a marina in Cowes and a berth number on one of the inner pontoons where the inflatable was moored. She said it was a Ballistic 6.5 with an Evinrude Etec 250 outboard.

  Suttle was writing down the details. When he’d finished, he phoned the Outside Enquiries D/S and passed on the information. He wanted a couple of guys out there sharpish. Above all he wanted to know about CCTV.

  Yates saved him the trouble.

  ‘Does it have CCTV? This marina?’

  ‘Of course. That’s one of the reasons I chose it. For the money those people charge, you expect decent security. Eighteen grand’s worth of outboard? There are bad people everywhere, my love. Even here.’

  ‘And a GPS system? You’ve got one of those on the RIB?’

  ‘Yep. Max gave it to me for Christmas. It’s a Lowrance, state of the art. Beautiful little thing.’

  Suttle made another note. The latest GPS kit, as long as it was switched on, kept a record of the last outing. If Sadler had taken the RIB anywhere over the previous week or so, then the details might be easily accessed.

  Faraday was looking sombre. From this kind of information, freely volunteered, you could only draw one inference: the RIB hadn’t left the marina for at least ten days.

  Ellis appeared to have reached the same conclusion. Her questions about the boat had come to an end. Now she invited Sadler to account for her movements since Saturday night. She was to take her time, share everything.

  ‘Of course.’ There was amusement in her voice again. ‘My pleasure.’

  On Saturday night, she said, she’d been over in Sou
thampton helping out a friend at a fund-raiser. She’d taken the last RedJet back to Cowes and been home by quarter past midnight.

  ‘Was anyone else at your flat that night?’

  ‘Max was there. He has a key.’

  Max, she said, was already in bed. She’d joined him. Next thing she knew it was four in the morning and she had Maarika on the phone.

  ‘The girl was out of her head.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She sounded terrified.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She said she’d had a lot of hassle from a man.’

  ‘A punter?’

  ‘Must have been. She wouldn’t say.’

  ‘What happened? What had he done?’

  ‘He’d come round and thumped her. Beaten her up. It happens sometimes. Not often, not with my class of girls, but it happens.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘I asked his name, obviously.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She wouldn’t tell me. All she’d say was she wanted out.’

  ‘You couldn’t check her bookings? Whatever records you keep?’

  ‘Not at four in the morning. And in any case, he might not be in the system.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘We went round there.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘Me and Max. This guy might have come back. He might be waiting outside. We’d no idea.’

  ‘And what did you find when you got there?’

  ‘Just Maarika. She was in a terrible state – shaking, trembling, crying her eyes out. He’d done a good job on her, whoever this animal was. She just wanted out, and I must say I didn’t blame her.’

  ‘And Max?’

  ‘Max tried talking her down. He sat beside her, put his arm round her. He wanted a name, obviously. No kidding, he’d have killed the guy.’

  ‘And did he get a name?’

  ‘No. She was just sat on the edge of the bed there, head in her hands. Get me out, she kept saying. Just please get me out. I want to go home. I want to get out.’

  Faraday glanced at Suttle. This was bullshit. Stanton must be pissing himself.

  Yates took over. He wanted to talk about Johnny Holman.