"How did your wife react to that?"
"Honour is a bit like a homing pigeon; settled back here and just
accepted it. I am going to see her later today. She's called and asked me to take in some clothes. She's wearing the same ones she was arrested in."
Anna closed her notebook and reached down for her briefcase. "Have you any idea where he is?" She opened her case on the table and put in her notebook.
"1 hope wherever he is, he rots in hell."
Anna snapped the locks on her case. "So no more brotherly love between you?"
"My wife is in prison because of him; my mother may even be subjected to a trial. He's taken every cent out of her account; she was hoping she'd get custody ofjulia's children. He's hurt everyone he came into contact with."
"He killed a lot of people, or they died because of him," Anna said, standing.
"If he surfaced here, or even tried to contact me, I'd strangle him."
She smiled. "Well, that would be a mistake. I'll give you my card and contact numbers; if he does try to see you, call me."
He flicked at the card, holding it between thumb and forefinger. "Can I call you?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Maybe for dinner one night? I sometimes have to lecture in London. I would enjoy your company when all this is over."
"It won't be over, Mr. Nolan, until we find him."
"But I can call you?"
She smiled as she crossed to the back door. "I don't think it would be very ethical, but thank you anyway. I appreciate the time you have given me, and the sandwich."
He joined her at the stable door and reached over her head to open it, swinging the top part back. Langton stood there, framed by the half-open door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Nolan and Detective Travis."
"I was just leaving," she stuttered.
"Really? Well, I was just arriving. You mind if I come in?"
"Not at all," Damien said pleasantly enough, "but, dear God, don't tell me I have to go over everything again!"
Langton waited as the lower part of the stable door was open and he stepped inside. Anna could feel his contained anger as he passed her.
Rather nervously, Anna reported that she was satisfied that Mr. Nolan had answered all her queries, and she had been about to leave and meet up with Langton.
Langton glared at her and then looked at Damien. "Maybe
I'd
like some answers."
Damien gestured to the table. "Sit down."
"I'll stay standing, if you don't mind."
"Please yourself." Damien sat.
Anna hovered, unsure whether to remain by the door or sit back at the table.
"Where's your brother, Mr. Nolan?"
"I have absolutely no idea." Damien turned to Anna. "I have explained to Miss Travis that, quite honestly, if I did know where he was, I'd probably be arrested for trying to strangle him."
"Really? Could I see your passport, please?"
Damien walked to a sideboard and opened a drawer; he searched around inside it, and then opened another. "That's odd. I always kept it in here. Perhaps my wife has put it somewhere else."
"I suggest you gave it to your brother, Mr. Nolan."
"I did not."
"Really. Can you look at this, please?" Langton passed over a search warrant.
Damien glanced at it. "I wouldn't have thought it necessary to get another one. The farm was thoroughly searched when it was presumed there were drugs hidden here."
"Well, I am going to do another. You can join me or remain here with Detective Travis."
Damien smiled, and drew out a chair to sit down. "Carry on."
Langton gave Anna a cold look and took off his coat. He tossed it over a chair and went to the sideboard. He began to search through the drawers and the cupboards below them. Satisfied he had found nothing of importance, he looked toward the small office room located off
the main kitchen. This was the room where Gordon had taken the photographs of the boat, the
Dare Devil.
Langton left the door ajar; he could be seen checking over the desk, opening more drawers, working quickly and methodically.
Anna stayed sitting at the table. Damien was opposite her, twisting round and round the large signet ring he wore on his left pinkie finger.
Gordon then appeared at the open door; he rapped on the frame with his knuckles and Langton walked out. He went to Gordon's side and they had a whispered conversation. Langton then continued his search of the office. Gordon remained standing outside.
Anna joined Gordon to find out what was going on. Gordon glanced back into the kitchen and moved away a fraction. "We reckon Fitzpatrick has escaped using Damien Nolan's passport. We're checking all ports now."
Anna kept her voice low. "So Fitzpatrick made it back here, took his passport, and cleaned out his mother's bank account? He couldn't have been given it by Damien—he was at the station being questioned."
Langton asked for Damien to join him in the office. He had lifted a loose floorboard from beneath a rug. It had, by the look of it, been checked out before: there was no dust. "Mr. Nolan, I want you to see this." Langton held up a plastic-wrapped bundle of fifty-pound notes; they matched a large amount more, neatly stored beneath the floorboards.
Damien got slowly to his feet.
"We can get these serial numbers checked out, but why don't you tell me about how they come to be here?"
"I have never seen them before. I certainly had no idea there was this much money hidden in here. I mean, the farmhouse was almost stripped bare the last time your officers searched."
Langton continued to lift out bundle after bundle; all had clear plastic bags wrapped around them, with a paper wrapper giving the amounts of each bundle. Langton was hardly audible as he counted: ten thousand, twenty, thirty, forty .. .And still he kept on stacking the bundles.
The money was taken from the office and carefully put on the kitchen
table. Damien looked on with a puzzled expression; as the amount grew, he kept on shaking his head.
"I make it close to two and a half million," Langton said, to no one in particular.
"I have absolutely nothing to do with this. I had no idea it was hidden in the house, but I am nevertheless interested: that is a lot of money. I'll be very keen to know whether, as you found it here, if no one claims it, it will automatically be returned to the property owner."
"Don't get cheeky, Mr. Nolan. You are in a lot of trouble."
"I didn't know it was there!" he exclaimed.
"Just like you didn't know your passport was missing?"
"I had absolutely no idea."
"I am arresting you on suspicion of aiding a wanted criminal to escape justice."Gordon took Damien to the station in a patrol car while Anna traveled back to London in her Mini, Langton beside her, his anger palpable.
"Can I just say something?" she asked.
"By all means. I can't wait to hear what you've got to say for yourself."
"I honestly do not think Damien is involved. I really questioned him—"
"I'm sure you did—over a BLT, wasn't it? Very chatty and comfortable—so much so, he was asking for a bloody date when I turned up."
"Then you must have also heard that I turned his request down! You have had surveillance on the farm: if Fitzpatrick returned there and took Damien's passport, then they must have seen him."
Langton snapped that they were not in place until Nolan was released from custody. It would have given Fitzpatrick time to go back to the farmhouse, stash his money, and then get a plane ticket out from the UK to anywhere.
"Can we check if the money was the payout from Julia? We know Rushton handed over close to four million in cash," Anna said.
Langton said nothing, sitting in moody silence. Anna continued to
drive; she could not think of anything to say that would ease the tension between them.
By the time they approached the station, Langton was in a contained fury. He got out of the car, slamming the door hard as he walked off.
Anna got out and was about to shut her door, when he returned and leaned his elbows on the roof. "You are in trouble, Travis. I don't like it, but I am putting you on report. I gave instructions that you were not to interview Damien Nolan, and you ignored me."
She went right back at him. "For goodness' sake, I was there! Why not interview him? And, excuse me if I am repeating myself but I do not think Damien Nolan is involved."
"Because you fancy him?"
"For Christ's sake, that has nothing to do with it. My concern is we are wasting time; right now Fitzpatrick has got his brother's passport, and if the cash at the farmhouse wasn't from his local bank account, then he's got money."
"Well, sweetheart, I bet you any money he's out of our reach. We've lost him!" And he turned and walked into the station, leaving Anna seething.
Langton paced up and down the incident room as they waited for a hoped-for sighting. All ports had been warned to look out for Fitzpatrick; his description, and details of the missing passport, had been forwarded, with photographs, to customs, ferries, trains, and Eurostar stations. They had also contacted heliports, private airstrips, and private plane charters. The
Evening Standard
had front-page coverage, and the morning papers all had been given details and photographs.
They knew that there had been two days and nights when there was no surveillance at the farmhouse. If he had taken the passport and hidden the money, it had to have been done inside that time frame. Langton had questioned the SOCO officers who had instigated the search of the farmhouse; the office room had been very thoroughly searched and they were certain that no money had been beneath the floorboards. The money removed from the farmhouse was held in the property lockup as they tried to verify by the note numbers if it was recently withdrawn.
It was 6:15
P.M
. when Anna handed in her report, keeping a good distance from Langton. She had checked and double-checked her notes, making it clear that she had agreed to eat with Damien, as she had wanted him very much at ease, and so had been able to gain a considerable amount of background information. The threat of being put on report really infuriated her; considering the amount of work she had done to move the case forward, she felt Langton had been unnecessarily vindictive.
Damien's solicitor had agreed to come in so that they could interview his client first thing in the morning. The charges were withholding evidence and assisting a known criminal to escape arrest. Damien had remained calm, almost resigned to being banged up for yet another night in the cells. He had asked the uniformed officers who brought him from the farmhouse to the Chalk Farm Station if they could take the clothes he had packed for his wife to Holloway jail.
The overnight bag was still at the station, and no one appeared interested in delivering it. "Is anyone taking this to Holloway?" Anna asked as she was leaving. The desk sergeant just shrugged, so Anna said she would take it. She carried it out to her car and placed it on the passenger seat. She drove from Chalk Farm over to Camden Town, heading toward Holloway Prison.
Parking in the spaces allocated for prison staff, Anna picked up the case and then unzipped it. She took out the contents: a bar of soap, moisturizer, and hand cream in a small satin vanity bag; two pairs of new tights, a navy cashmere sweater, a dress and three pairs of panties and brassieres; combs and a hairbrush. Rather sadly, she saw that Damien had also included a box of dark chestnut-brown hair dye and shampoo.
As she replaced them, she felt down the sides and under the base of the bag, but there was nothing else. She zipped up the bag, and then unzipped a small pocket at the side: it contained a folded slip of paper. In faint pencil handwriting was the list of items she had just checked over and, beside each one, a tick in red pen. There was nothing else. She felt, as Honour probably would, disappointment that there was no other message. There was finality about the ticks, like a schoolteacher's
appraisal. She returned the note to the pocket and carried the bag to the prison reception.
Anna was not allowed to see Honour, as it was after visiting hours and the inmates were locked up for the night. She signed over the bag and wrote that the contents were on a list in the pocket. "Has anyone been to see her?"
The receptionist reached for the visitors' book, and flicked over until she came to Honour's name. "Yes, her husband was here this afternoon."
Anna's nerves jangled. "Her husband?"
"Yes, Mr. Damien Nolan came in at two-thirty."
"Did he show any identification?"
"Yes, his passport. She had a visit from her solicitor; that was in the morning, but no one else."