Altered Egos (18 page)

Nash’s reply was non-verbal and extremely vulgar. It involved the use of only one finger.

There was no reply from Sonya’s house, so Nash tried her mobile. ‘Hi, Mike, I’m at my mother’s. Tommy, my youngest is down with a cold and a bit of a fever, so I thought it best to leave all three with Mum for a few days, until the other business is sorted out.’ Nash could tell by her lowered tone that her mother was within earshot.

‘Right, I get you. It’s about that I’m ringing, actually.’ He gave her a brief outline of what had happened at the house. ‘That means that Jessica’s father is still on the loose, but so is Smith. That worries me. I need to get to Dr North first. It’s the only way I can guarantee to keep him safe. It would help enormously if I knew who this boss of Smith’s is. If I could take them out of the equation it would help to neutralize Smith. I’m sure Hirst must have some idea. If not, maybe Jessica can tell me. Will you put it to them, Sonya?’

‘I’ll see what I can do. Try and find him, Mike. I know Jessica’s worried stiff. This news isn’t going to help.’

After he rang off, Nash called Mironova into his office. ‘Hear all you want, get any good tips?’ he enquired sarcastically.

‘Not really, it was all rather boring and business-like.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you. Now, let’s try and work out where to find Dr North.’

‘How do we go about it?’

‘Something Viv said gave me an idea. He said the bloke he saw looked like an old tramp, and that he was muttering away to himself. Now I know a lot of the winos who wander around behave like that, but as far as we know Dr North isn’t one. So I guess he’s in the middle of some sort of breakdown. Bear in mind he’s just heard that his wife and son have been killed, that his daughter’s been kidnapped, and that he’s been in the hands of some ruthless bastards who have probably been feeding him all sorts of hallucinatory drugs. That seems to be what they’re best at – messing with people’s heads.’

‘OK, I grant you he’s probably in a mess. But does that get us any further forward?’

‘In that sort of state, where’s the most likely place for someone to go?’

‘I don’t know, somewhere familiar, I suppose. Given that he has any memory left.’

‘Agreed. Which gives us two favourite options. The laboratory, or his house.’

As he was speaking, Nash had a fleeting mental image. Of standing in the lounge of the house they’d raided that morning, questioning the two men they’d found there. Over their shoulder, through the lounge window, he’d seen something. Something so familiar his memory had discounted it until now. ‘Clara, ask Viv to get his car. We’ll check the laboratory, North won’t know about the explosion. If we don’t find any trace there, we’ll go out to Gorton. Whilst he’s bringing his car round, get onto Shires Bus Company. Ask them what service passed that house at 1.15 this afternoon.’

‘You think North caught a bus. And that was why we couldn’t find him?’

‘I do, and I’d be very surprised if it doesn’t go to Gorton.’

‘If North was as confused as you think, would he realize where the bus was headed?’

‘He would, if it was showing on the destination board.’

The news Sonya gave them, had Jessica in a frenzy of anxiety. ‘If they’ve harmed him, I’ll—’

Steve attempted to reassure her. ‘Nash is a good copper. He’ll find him, don’t worry.’

They were still in the van. Their prisoner was trussed and gagged in the back. Hirst saw Jessica turn to look at the helpless figure lying on the metal floor. ‘Don’t even think about it,’ he advised Jessica.

‘Think about what?’

‘Revenge. Believe me, it won’t help. Let’s give Nash the information and turn that one’ – he pointed over his shoulder – ‘over to him. Let him deal with it from now on. I’ve to go back tomorrow. Once I’m clear, you can hand this to Nash. By the time anyone can catch up with me, I’ll be way out of reach.’

He didn’t add that he’d be back in foreign parts, back on duty. Better not to complicate matters. Reluctantly, Jessica agreed.

‘That bus does go to Gorton,’ Mironova told Nash as they walked downstairs. ‘Doesn’t it get boring, always being right?’

‘I don’t always get it right,’ Nash protested. ‘I make lots of mistakes.’

‘I’m talking about work, not your love life.’

There was no sign of the missing scientist at the laboratory, just one or two demolition contractors watching a crane with a ball attachment knocking down what remained of the walls of the building. Nash had a word with their foreman, who confirmed they’d not seen any strangers hanging about the place. ‘We’re the first people he’s seen,’ Nash told the others as he got back in the car. ‘He said it made a change for them to work without drawing a crowd. Must be the isolated location, I suppose. Right, Viv, head for Gorton, will you?’

The cottage was a forlorn sight. The blackened shell of what had once been a beautiful house was in stark contrast to the
beauty of the surrounding countryside. They picked their way carefully through the debris, which remained as it had been after the fire. The brightly coloured incident tape that had cordoned off the building fluttered and danced in the breeze. It did nothing to enhance the beauty of the scene. As they reached what had once been the kitchen, where the blaze had been fiercest, Pearce stopped suddenly and lifted a hand. ‘Listen,’ he said, ‘what’s that noise?’

The sound appeared to be coming from the upper floor. As the detectives listened, Nash and Mironova identified the noise at the same time. They looked at one another, realization dawning. It was the sound of someone crying. ‘Viv, stay here,’ Nash told the DC, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘We don’t want to crowd him. Clara, with me.’

They walked as quietly as they could up the stairs, wincing slightly as they trod on broken glass and plaster, the sound of their footsteps amplified in the silence. They traced the weeping sound to the largest of the bedrooms. The door had been burned away by the fire, so they were able to see in as they picked their way across the charred floorboards of the landing. A man was standing by the window, half turned away from them. He was holding a picture frame in his hand. Although the glass had been shattered by the heat, they could make out that the photo within the frame was that of a woman and two small children. ‘Dr North?’ Nash’s voice was gentle.

The man turned, and Mironova saw the tracks made by his tears down the soot-grimed cheeks of his face. ‘Dr North, I’m a police officer. You’re quite safe,’ Nash told him, his voice strengthening with the desire to get his message through to the scientist’s confused brain. ‘Dr North, we’ve come to take you to Jessica. Your daughter, Jessica,’ Nash repeated. ‘She’s very worried about you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To see Jessica again. To make sure she’s safe?’

North’s tears flowed faster and faster. ‘Jessica,’ he whispered. He looked down at the photograph. ‘My little Jessica. What happened to us? Adam, Lara, what….’ His voice tailed off as his distress threatened to overwhelm him.

Nash signalled to Mironova. Clara stepped forward and put her arm around the scientist. Gently, murmuring words of encouragement, she led him from the room, coaxed him down the stairs and out of the ruined building. Nash followed, noticing that North was still clutching the picture frame, the last memory he had of his wife and son, the last memory of what he’d lost. Or more correctly, what had been taken from him. Nash’s resolve to bring the killers to justice hardened. The acts of violence, the lives ruined as completely as the building they’d just left were bad enough. The cold-blooded way it had been carried it out made the whole thing ten times worse.

Clara sat with Dr North in the back of the car, whilst Nash sat in front alongside Pearce. The journey to Helmsdale was conducted in silence. As soon as Nash’s mobile picked up a signal, he sent Sonya a text. ‘North safe, tell J’ was all it said, all Jessica needed to know.

It was almost dark when they reached the police station. Clara led North from the car. He looked round in bewilderment at the array of police cars, ambulances and fire engines. ‘Where am I?’ he demanded, suddenly suspicious.

Clara looked at Nash for help. ‘It’s all right, Dr North. I’ve sent Jessica a message, she knows you’re safe. She knows you’re with me. She’ll come to you as soon as she can.’

North peered at him. ‘What did you say your name is?’

‘Nash, Mike Nash. Detective Inspector Nash.’

‘Why was Jessica kidnapped?’ North’s memory was returning in snatches.

‘She was taken away from those men who were holding her prisoner. The same men who were holding you. A man she didn’t know realized the danger she was in and rescued her, to keep the others from harming her. Like they did to your wife, and to your son.’

North stared at Nash, bewilderment and horror intermingled. ‘What do you mean? They told me Adam was murdered, but I thought Lara died in a fire?’

‘I’m sorry, Dr North. They were both murdered.’

Clara led the distressed man into the building. He’d begun 
muttering to himself; snatches of words, unrecognizable to his listeners. Nash drew Pearce to one side. ‘Get the police surgeon in. I want him to check Dr North over. In the meantime stick him in a cell, one where we’re certain he can’t harm himself. When the doctor arrives, tell him I want Dr North’s mental state assessing. Also, I want him to take a sample of his blood. Get him to send it for analysis. I want particular attention given to finding any trace of hallucinatory drugs, or anything that might be used to tamper with his mental state.’

The text message came as an enormous relief. Naturally Jessica wanted to go to her father immediately. ‘No way,’ Hirst told her firmly. ‘Your father’s in safe hands. We’ve a job still to do. Think of your mother and brother; much as you want to be with your father, they deserve justice. The only way we can get that for them is either by handing our prisoner over to Nash, or,’ he drew one finger across his throat. ‘No matter what they’re guilty of, murder is still murder. Let the law deal with them.’

‘Very well,’ Jessica hid her disappointment, ‘but how do we go about it?’

Hirst told her. After he explained, he added, ‘By the time you’re back with your father, I’ll be away. Remember, when you’re telling your story, make sure Nash understands I was the one who destroyed the laboratory. Tell him you were a prisoner in the van at the time, tied up with duct tape.’

‘What will they do to you?’ Jessica protested.

‘Nothing, because I won’t be around. They can’t prosecute me unless I’m here. And for the foreseeable future I’ll be out of the country. Hopefully, by the time I get back, the fuss will have died down. When the truth about what went on at Helm Pharm comes out, public opinion will be on my side. Who knows, Paul and his eco-warrior friends might even want to claim responsibility for it. Do their credibility the world of good. But you could let Nash know about the marzipan. I don’t want our Sappers trying to destroy a target with marzipan instead of C4.’

It was late that evening when they returned to Helmsdale. Hirst pulled up outside the row of lock-up garages and opened the end one. He reversed the motorhome out of the building, where the headlights illuminated the interior. He collected the prisoner from the back of the van and dumped his burden in the far corner of the garage, slammed the up-and-over door shut and locked it. When he returned to the motorhome he handed the key to Jessica. ‘Put that somewhere safe until tomorrow,’ he told her.

Jessica went to put the key inside her bra. ‘No, I said somewhere safe,’ Hirst warned her.

She grinned and attached the ring to her jeans belt. ‘I’m going to park the van outside the house. I’ll be back in five minutes, then we’ll go somewhere safe for the night. Tomorrow morning I’ll drop you at Sonya’s house, park this on my drive and collect my stuff. I’ll be away by nine o’clock. Then you can phone Nash.’

There was a reckless abandon about their lovemaking that night. When it was over, and they lay wrapped together, Steve felt the warm salt of her tears, wet against his shoulder. ‘Don’t take on,’ he urged her. ‘Soon, all this will be a memory, because you’ll have lots more to think about. Taking care of your father for one thing. God knows what they’ll have done to him. Forget me, and get on with the rest of your life. You’re young; you’ve got a great future ahead of you.’

‘But I don’t want to forget you. I won’t forget you. How could I?’

‘You will. And if not, well, who knows, we might meet again sometime. When you’re going where I am, the one thing you avoid at all costs, is making plans for the future.’

As they fell asleep, Steve’s words were in Jessica’s mind. They seemed almost prophetic.

The first thing Nash noticed as he drove along the street was the motorhome. He ignored it and parked outside Sonya’s house. She was obviously on the lookout for him, because the door opened as he was walking up the path. ‘Come on in.’ Sonya smiled. ‘I’ll introduce you and pour coffee. I’ll have to go buy some more,
the rate you drink it.’

‘You don’t imagine for one minute I’d stop coming to see you if there was no coffee?’ Nash teased. ‘Because I can assure you, the coffee isn’t the attraction.’

Nash had expected to meet a schoolgirl, slightly awkward perhaps, little more than a child. He was unprepared for the poised and attractive young woman who stood waiting for him in the lounge. ‘Miss North? I’m Mike Nash.’

She shook hands. ‘Jessica,’ she prompted. ‘Call me Jessica. How’s my father? Can I see him?’

‘He’s at the police station for the time being. I thought it was safer for him there. I got our doctor to have a look at him yesterday. He’s not in very good shape, I’m afraid. He doesn’t know the full extent of what’s been done to your family; I haven’t let him read those files. I thought it better to wait until you were with him. He’ll need your support. I’m afraid what little he does know has affected him very badly. I got the doctor to take a blood test – I’m fairly sure they’ll have been feeding him drugs, but we can’t do much until we know what we’re fighting against, and how long it’ll take to get them out of his system.’

‘I’ve got something to give you,’ Jessica held out her hand. ‘That’s the key to the end one of the lock-up garages round there.’ She pointed to the end of the street. ‘Inside, you’ll find what you’re looking for.’

‘My sergeant will be here in a few minutes, and my DC. Between us we’ll take you and the prisoner back to the station. In separate vehicles,’ he added hastily.

‘Before they arrive, I assume the man who abducted you is still as much a mystery to you as he is to us?’ Nash saw the look of surprise on her face and smiled. ‘Of course, we could speculate as to his identity, but without a description, which you are obviously unable to give, as he wore a balaclava all the time, we’ve no way of identifying him. Or the vehicle either because he just dumped you in the street and drove off. It was sheer chance that you happened to knock on Sonya’s door. Sheer fluke that she happens to be a friend of mine.’

Jessica’s smile broadened throughout Nash’s little speech.
‘You know, Mr Nash, S—, my abductor, said you were a nice, kind person. Now I know what he meant. Before your people arrive, I’d better tell you what you’ll find in the garage.’

As Jessica finished speaking, Nash heard the sound of cars arriving and glanced outside. ‘My sergeant and DC,’ he explained.

‘I’ll let them in.’ Sonya hurried to the door.

Nash waited until Clara had driven off with Jessica, before turning to Pearce. ‘Drive down to the end of the street, where the garages are and wait for me. ‘I’ll be about five minutes, no more.’

‘OK, Mike.’ Pearce hid a smile until he was out of the door.

‘Thanks for all your help, Sonya,’ Nash turned to leave. ‘Sadly, now that this is over, I haven’t a good excuse for coming to see you.’

‘If you don’t, who’s going to drink that enormous jar of coffee?’

‘Which enormous jar of coffee?’

‘The one I’m going to buy as soon as I can get to the shops.’ Sonya laid her hand on his arm. ‘And, if that isn’t excuse enough.’ She leaned forward and kissed him.

He wasn’t sure if it was seconds or minutes later when he surfaced for air. ‘When?’ he asked, gasping slightly.

‘How about tonight? Unless you’re going to be too busy.’

‘It might be late,’ he warned.

‘Better late than not at all, but if I’ve to wait until then, I’d better have another of those.’

He kissed her once more. ‘Now I must go, whilst I still can.’

Pearce was standing by his car. ‘Have you got a penknife?’ Nash asked.

Viv held up a Swiss Army knife.

‘Ideal.’ Nash slipped the key in the lock and turned the handle. They stared in, and saw the bound figure in the corner, eyes blinking in the glare of the low winter sun that flooded the concrete shell with bright light. ‘Good morning, Dr Dunning. Or should I say Colonel Dunning?’ Nash smiled. ‘Caroline Dunning, you are under arrest for the murder of Lara North, Adam North and one unidentified male. You are also charged….’

Smith parked opposite the entrance to the police station car park. From his vantage point he had a good view of the building and the area alongside it. He saw a car pull up, recognized the young woman who climbed out of the passenger seat: Jessica North. If the police had her, that was very bad news. He maintained his vigil, and saw another car pull in twenty minutes later. He saw the two men get out and relaxed. To his horror, he then saw one of them open the back door and extract a prisoner. At the sight of Dunning, her wrists handcuffed together, his panic became horror. He started the engine and drove away. He needed to get onto military premises as quickly as possible. The nearest barracks was more than half an hour away. He needed to get there fast. Once there, he was safe. The police wouldn’t be able to get to him on army premises. But not before he’d made a phone call. One that would ensure not only his safety; but the release of Colonel Dunning.

Nash and Pearce handed Dunning over to Sergeant Binns. The paperwork took about twenty minutes to complete, largely because of the prisoner’s complete refusal to cooperate, even to the extent of providing an address. When it was done, Nash told Binns, ‘Get a female officer to search her, then chuck her into a cell until we’re ready for her, and, Jack’ – Binns looked up – ‘don’t stand any nonsense. The woman’s a multi-murderer and worse, despite her cut-glass accent and high sounding titles. Keep her in seclusion until we’re ready to interview her. No visitors, no phone calls.’

‘But, Mike, I can’t do that,’ Binns protested. ‘It’s against the rules.’

‘Official Secrets Act,’ Nash told him. ‘She’s in possession of highly sensitive information. Can’t risk her passing it on to a potential enemy.’

‘Can you do that?’ Pearce asked as they went upstairs.

‘I’ve no idea. But if I don’t know, it stands to reason other people don’t.’

Nash walked into the CID suite to find Jessica and her father sitting with Clara. Both of them were in tears, whilst Clara also looked upset. ‘Dr North, Jessica,’ Nash winked at the girl, a gesture unseen by everyone except Mironova. ‘I’m glad to say we have the person responsible for ordering the murders of Mrs North and Adam in custody. Unfortunately the hitman himself is still at large, so for the time being I think it would be safer for you to remain here until I can find you suitable accommodation. Please excuse me for a few minutes, I have some phone calls to make, then I can tell you both exactly what all this is about.’

Nash went into his office. He was about to pick up the phone when it rang. He glanced at the number on the display. ‘Ruth, I was about to ring you.’

‘Good idea, wrong person.’ The voice was that of Chief Constable O’Donnell.

‘Sorry, ma’am, I wanted to tell Superintendent Edwards—’

‘That you’ve just arrested a high ranking army officer,’ she finished for him.

Nash gasped. ‘You knew about it? How?’

‘I’ve just had a phone call from the MOD. It would appear that the excrement has collided with the ventilator: big style. They’re sending a bigwig up by plane to secure your prisoner’s release. He’ll be here tomorrow.’

‘Before you agree to anything, ma’am, I think you ought to hear the case against her. I was going to leave it until later, but I think we should interview her straight away. Before that, I’d like you to look through the evidence. It will take a long time, I’m afraid.’

‘Very well, Ruth and I will be over in about an hour. One thing’s for sure, life’s never boring with you around, Mike.’

When Nash put the phone down he went to the safe and took out the file. He called Pearce in. ‘Viv, I want you to make four copies of these transcriptions. Put them in envelopes, marked for Dr North, the chief constable, Superintendent Edwards, and the MOD.’

‘What do you want doing with the disks?’

‘Nothing. They remain in the safe at all times. Clear?’

‘OK, Mike. Speaking of the files and disks, I’ve got the results back from the forensics people. There are several sets of fingerprints on each.’

‘Get me the report, please.’

Whilst he was waiting, Nash ran downstairs. ‘Jack, have you got that set of Dunning’s fingerprints handy? I’d like to borrow them for a while.’

Binns passed them over. ‘She’s a cocky bitch, that one. Reckons we can’t hold her. Said she’d be walking out of here within forty-eight hours.’

Nash gritted his teeth. ‘We’ll see about that.’

As he returned to the CID suite, Nash braced himself for the ordeal of interviewing Dr North. He was about to go in when the door opened, and Clara came out. ‘I’ve just got the results of Dr North’s blood test,’ she handed him a sheet of paper. ‘The doctor rang before he faxed it through. He’s really angry, and concerned for Dr North’s safety, and that of those around him. He believes we ought to consider having him sectioned until they can assess the long term effects of the drugs they’ve been feeding him.’