The Silent Room (19 page)

She looked up, tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘I can’t remember his words exactly, something about ammunition and other items and articles in connection with Jack’s arrest. Only one of them spoke. The other one got on with the search. He didn’t say a word.’

‘You sure?’

Ryan seized on that tiny snippet of information, his mind working overtime.
Only one of them spoke.
They were the very same words the security guard, Irwin, had used. That thought triggered panic in his chest. He had to get hold of Caroline
fast!

37

Ryan ran to his car, got in and drove away. Pulling out his mobile phone, he keyed in Caroline’s number. His heart was in his mouth as it rang out for what seemed like an age before she finally answered. He told her to lock all her doors and not open up to anyone. ‘Not anyone, you hear me?’

‘What for?’

‘Do it!’ he said. ‘Put the phone down and put the deadlocks on, bolts and all.’

‘Matt, you’re freaking me out.’

‘Just do it. I’ll wait.’

The phone went down. Ryan drove on, imagining her, vulnerable, walking through the house, checking front and rear doors, ramming bolts home, wondering what on earth was going on. He pictured Bob, registering her mood change. Anxious to keep her safe, he’d be there with her, every step of the way.

‘Matt?’ She sounded alarmed.

‘Is it done?’ he asked.

‘Yes. What’s going on?’

‘Trust me, it’s a precaution. The surveillance team I told you about? It may be that they weren’t police after all. Yes, I’ll be careful.’

Satisfied that she was safe, he rang off and called Hilary.

‘It’s me again. Are you absolutely sure only one of the detectives spoke when they were with you?’

‘Yes. Are you OK? You sound weird.’

‘I’m fine.’ Traffic lights changed and Ryan put his foot down. ‘I had to call Caroline in case the men we discussed earlier were the same two who’ve been following me round, trailing me to Alnwick. Although I’m certain I lost them on the way, I’m taking no chances.’

‘Is she OK?’ Hilary’s fear was almost palpable. ‘Are you going there now?’

‘I can’t yet,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about her. She’s very security-conscious. That house is like the Bank of England vault. I need you to concentrate a moment longer. This could be very important. The detective who spoke to you: was he British or foreign?’

‘British, English . . . Are you sure you shouldn’t be with her?’

‘Relax,’ Ryan said. ‘Caroline has locked all the doors. She’ll be absolutely fine. I’ll call her later. This Englishman, did he have an accent of any kind?’

‘He wasn’t local, that’s for sure.’

‘OK. So, out of area. Can you be any more specific?’

‘He had no identifiable dialect. Cosmopolitan is the best way to describe his accent. Southern, but not regional, if you know what I mean.’

‘You’re doing well. This is helping.’ Ryan slowed as a car changed lanes, pulling into his path without indicating. He swore under his breath.

‘What? I didn’t catch that.’

‘It wasn’t intended for you. Some prat who needs to take another driving test nearly put me off the road. How long did these so-called detectives stay with you?’

‘An hour, no more.’

‘When they left, did they take anything away?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Don’t suppose you remember what vehicle they were driving?’

‘A dark saloon, I’m not sure what kind. This is all my fault—’

‘No, it’s not. I don’t see what else you could’ve done.’

‘It was blue . . . or maybe grey.’ Hilary was weeping. ‘I didn’t think to get the registration number. Pretty hopeless for a copper’s wife, aren’t I?’

More lights. Ryan brought the car to a stop. For a copper’s wife she was pretty bloody perfect. Jack’s luck had been in when he met and married her. They were a winning combination. A couple made for one another. He wanted to tell her that, but now was not the time. Instead, he wished her goodnight and rang off.

At the silent room, he grabbed a coffee and sat down to discuss Hilary’s evidence with Grace and Newman. Had there been no personal connection to the victim, the buzz of working on a murder case would have been intoxicating. As it was, it was a deeply depressing, energy-sapping exercise, made worse by working round the clock under constant threat of discovery. Jack was a big miss –
a one-off
– Ryan still couldn’t believe he’d gone, but dwelling on his death was counter-productive.

Focus!

‘I can see two scenarios here,’ he said. ‘Only one detective spoke to Hilary. Only one offender spoke in the course of the hijack. Assuming that these might be the same two guys, we’re looking for one foreigner, possibly Scandinavian, and one heavy from out of town, in all probability from the south of England. With me so far?’

The others were nodding.

‘The way I figure it, these guys were watching the house, waiting for the arrest. They see the firearms team go in and come out with Jack, guns ’n all. They wait until the coast is clear and then breeze in there pretending to be the mop-up squad. I’m surprised they didn’t make believe they were there on behalf of the Federation, cheeky bastards.’

‘I don’t buy it,’ Newman said. ‘Guys like that don’t hang around. They want Jack gone, they would’ve taken him out. End of. I mean with a bullet, not by framing him for possession.’

‘I’m with Frank,’ Grace said.

‘That’s my point,’ Ryan countered. ‘They didn’t, did they? They could’ve walked up his garden path at any time and blown him away on the doorstep. Instead they planted guns. Jack is hauled out to face the music. Maybe these guys miscalculated. Didn’t figure on the remand in custody. I didn’t say I had all the answers. They get another chance to kill him when they hijack the van. They don’t. My guess is, they know he has incriminating evidence hidden away, so serious it must be found. They went to the house on a mission to find it, pretending to look for ammo when they were after something else.’

‘The notebooks?’ Newman said.

Ryan nodded, his eyes flitting from the spook to Grace and back again.

‘And the second scenario?’ Grace asked.

‘The fact that only one of them spoke might be coincidental,’ Ryan continued. ‘Or, they weren’t the hijackers at all. They could be detectives from our own force. Either way, we need to find them. I questioned Hilary about their search method. It was systematic and methodical, exactly as you or I would approach it. From what she told me, they had all the patter. They were professional investigators, or maybe private security personnel, not two organized thugs pulling drawers out willy-nilly. My money is on the police. But in case I’m wrong, I want Caroline here.’

38

Caroline resisted the move on the grounds that it would disrupt Bob and hamper her brother’s covert investigation. But Ryan wouldn’t hear of her staying home alone. In the end, after some gentle persuasion, he got his way. He packed her a bag, substituted his mother’s Honda Jazz for his Discovery, loaded up the car, dog and all, and drove back to town.

It was late, almost ten thirty, by the time they arrived in Fenham. Before she’d even taken her coat off, Newman introduced himself, making her feel at home. The man was charm personified. Conveying his condolences – he knew she was very close to Jack – he sounded more like a parish priest than a former MI5 operative. There was no song and dance, no bullshit, only heartfelt sympathy for her loss.

Ryan appreciated that.

They were all too wired to go to bed so they made small talk, avoiding any further mention of what had brought them all together. Newman said more to Caroline in the first ten minutes of their meeting than he’d said to the others in three days. There was a tenderness in him Ryan had never seen before, a quality that seemed to bond him to his sister. Caroline took to him instantly, laughing at his wit, appreciating his politeness and intellect. To be able to get that reaction when she’d lost her best friend was nothing short of a miracle.

Newman was captivated by her too, transfixed by her likeness to her brother – the reaction most people had when first they saw them together. His eyes flitted constantly between the two, comparing them. It all made sense when she told him they were twins, born a few minutes apart, either side of midnight, Ryan being the younger of the two.

‘He must have had a hard paper round,’ Newman joked.

‘Aw, don’t you be mean to my baby brother.’ And so it went on.

Grace had wandered off. She was standing alone with her back to them, staring at a bookshelf, only not seeing it. Something about her body language made Ryan’s misery over the death of their mutual friend deepen. Her head and shoulders were down. He wandered over to join her, flicking his eyes in Newman’s direction.

‘Maybe if I’d worn a skirt,’ he joked. ‘He’s so obviously a ladies’ man.’

Grace followed his gaze. ‘Yes, he seems quite taken with her.’

‘If ever there was an understatement, that was it.’ Ryan’s tone was friendly, jocular. He hated seeing her distressed. ‘He’s taken with you too, I noticed.’ He regretted the words as soon as they had passed his lips.

Her mouth was smiling but her eyes were not.

She’d gone to a darker place, somewhere upsetting –
Heartbreak Hotel
– perhaps a moment in time when she’d split with Newman, her true love. Ryan knew her well, but hadn’t asked how come she’d never married. Although, he had to admit, the thought had occurred to him from time to time. Now he had his answer. At least she had experienced that level of feeling. He’d had his fair share of relationships, but not like that.

Not even close.

A giggle from Caroline reached them from across the room. Grace didn’t look round. She was on the brink of tears. Emotionally spent. Ryan wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to reach out to her but wouldn’t risk humiliating her with Newman in the room. There had been enough tears in this house in recent days. Looking at her now, he could tell how much it had cost her to involve her former lover in the search for Jack. She was breaking down, her past and present torment bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t Ryan’s place to pry. He felt sure that if he said anything –
anything
– the floodgates would open.

He mimed,
I’m sorry.

Grace managed a smile and then turned her head away.

Newman excused himself from the room and disappeared upstairs. Whether he’d seen her anguish was anyone’s guess. When she wandered off into the kitchen, Ryan didn’t follow. He joined Caroline, who had just sat down in an easy chair by the fire.

‘You OK?’ He stroked her shoulder.

‘Is Grace?’ She’d picked up on the atmosphere.

‘She’s fine.’

‘Not according to Frank.’

So, Newman had noticed the exchange.

‘Don’t worry,’ Ryan said. ‘She’s tough. She’ll handle it. Mind if I leave you for a moment? I want to run through the crime scene video one last time before I turn in.’

‘Go,’ she said. ‘I’ve got Bob to keep me company, haven’t I, boy?’

The dog’s tail began to wag.

Ryan ruffled his fur, then sat down at the dining table. He’d examined the scene video several times and yet it told him nothing. Obscured by the prison van, there was no footage of Jack physically getting into the Audi before it sped away. Ryan had watched it twice more by the time Grace emerged from the kitchen with a light supper on a tray. Setting it down on the coffee table, she made a head gesture for him to join her. He stood up as she began pouring the tea, her distress well buried and invisible. She pointed at a plate of thick-cut toast and jar of Marmite, telling him to help himself.

Ryan shuddered inwardly. He hated the stuff.

‘Any joy?’ Grace was getting stuck in.

‘None.’ He tried to keep the frustration from his voice. ‘We’re no further forward than we were at the beginning. There’s no verbal exchange whatsoever between Jack and the hijackers that I can see. If there was any dialogue, it must’ve happened inside the prison van after the comms were smashed, although Irwin was adamant no words were spoken.’

Newman was back, already munching toast, speaking with his mouth full. ‘It’s possible that he was too far away to hear it. Remember, he was lying on the deck, the rain tanking down, his co-driver in tears, car engines running.’

‘That’s true,’ Grace said. ‘And the hijackers would’ve kept it short.’

‘I agree,’ Ryan said. ‘You can hear them, can’t you?
Walk or the security guard gets it.
Or:
Come quietly or we’ll kill your family.
Either one would guarantee compliance. So Jack walks calmly from the van to the car, making it look like he’s in cahoots. They pile into the Audi and drive away.’

‘What about the other car?’ Caroline asked.

The question stunned the others into silence. All three looked around, none with any idea what she was on about. Sitting very still, head cocked to one side, Caroline was facing away from the computer, her back to the dining table. Ryan hadn’t realized she’d been listening to the running tape. He moved towards her, the others tagging along behind. His sister’s face was a picture of concentration, a sight that made his heart leap. He’d seen that expression before and could tell instantly that she’d heard something that might prove vital.

‘What other car?’ he asked.

‘The one that starts up after the Audi takes off. It heads in the opposite direction. I heard it on the tape just now.’

For as long as he could remember, Ryan had known that she possessed extrasensory perception. Neuroscientists had clinically proven that those born blind used other parts of their brains to refine their sensation of sound to a level that surpassed that of sighted people. Was it too much to hope that she was right?

He willed it to be true.

Getting up, Caroline joined him at the table, asking him to run the tape from the beginning. After he’d done so, Ryan glanced at the others. Their blank expressions told him that nothing had registered. Newman edged ever closer, straining to listen as the tape was replayed one more time. At the end of it, they were still as mystified.