Deadly Intent

CHAPTER 25

The following morning, as the team prepared the wrapping up of the case, Anna submitted her report from the previous evening. They still had a list of interviews to be completed, along with various charges, but, to all intents and purposes, the case was closing. Obviously, the search for their prime suspect, Alexander Fitzpatrick, would be ongoing but, even without him in custody, the cases would go for trial.Honour Nolan was taken before the magistrates; she was not granted bail, due to the gravity of the charges leveled against her, and was taken to Holloway Prison. Adrian Summers was to await trial at Brixton Prison. They were minor players in comparison to Fitzpatrick, but they would still have to pay the price of their association with him.The incident board was testament to the complexity of the inquiry; just how many hours of police work had gone into the investigation was obvious. No matter that so many loose ends had been tied up, it was still an unsatisfactory end to a long investigation. Although they did have the drug haul, and they were able to knit together the events from the night Frank Brandon was murdered, charges against his killer were still in the pipeline.The photographs of the victims were being taken down and boxed, ready for the trials:Frank Brandon: shot by a lowlife drug dealer who mistakenly believed he had been at the Chalk Farm drug squat to make an arrestDonny Petrozzo: murdered because of his attempt to force Fitzpatrick into cutting him in on the deal, with an overdose of FentanylDavid Rushton: murdered, again by Fitzpatrick, because of his association with Julia Brandon and his movement of her funds, with an overdose of Fentanyl.Julia Brandon: murdered by persons unknown but possibly the men connected to Fitzpatrick's drug deals, her car brakes tampered with, resulting in a head-on collisionJulius D'Anton: possible death by his own drug addiction and use of Fentanyl, but also connected to FitzpatrickSandra D'Anton: murdered by unknown assailants connected to Fitzpatrick; the suspects were still at large, but one of them had been identified from the thumbprint taken from her neckWhether or not Fitzpatrick was still in the UK was doubtful, but the FBI were keen to continue their search for him, and placed him high up on their Most Wanted lists. The U.S. side were also still searching for the two henchmen.Anna and the team were to wind up the investigations by interviewing Doris Eatwell, to ascertain how much she was involved with protecting her son, Alexander Fitzpatrick, and allowing her premises to be used to hide the crates of Fentanyl. Due to her age, she was not to be held in custody, but she could face charges.When Anna went to see Cunningham to sort out the interview, she found her sitting with her head in her hands, crying.Cunningham took a tissue from a box on her desk and blew her nose. "I've had some bad news. I won't be here for a few days.""I'm sorry.""My partner collapsed last night and is in hospital. They have found another tumor and ..." She had to wipe her eyes before she could continue. "If you could hold the fort for me, until I have time to make other arrangements ... DCS Langton is still overseeing the final stages but, until the trials, we are obviously required to see what loose ends we can iron out."Anna felt that having not traced Fitzpatrick was more than just a loose end, but she didn't think it was the time to bring it up.She returned to the incident room and joined Phil. "I suppose you've heard: Cunningham is not going to be around for a few days.""Yeah, not that it's that much of a loss. She's been at half-mast since this inquiry started.""The duty manager's got the details. I'll take the trip to Oxfordshire to interview Mrs. Eatwell; you keep on wrapping up here." Anna also wanted to question Adrian Summers again to double-check a couple of things from his statement.As Anna was returning to her office, Gordon approached. "Damien Nolan: I don't have a birth certificate registered, but I've got a marriage license—register office in Oxfordshire, dated 1984, to Honour—says his date of birth is eighteenth March, 1958, but there is nothing else. He has a passport—""Then you have to have a birth certificate, don't you?""Well, I've not traced one yet.""Never mind, we can have another attempt later. I want to get over to Brixton Prison and interview Adrian Summers; and then we'll drive to Shipston on Stour to see Mrs. Eatwell."Adrian looked dreadful. Eyes red-rimmed, unshaven; his face already had a prison pallor, even though he'd only been inside a few days. "My parents have been in to see me," he said, almost in tears."I just need to ask you a few more questions," Anna said."I don't know anything else, I swear to you.""It's just that I am unsure about one small thing: the note we found in the Mitsubishi." Anna waited, but Adrian just looked at her. "It had directions to the farm in Oxfordshire.""Yeah, well—I didn't know where it was.""Who gave you the directions?"Adrian looked confused.Anna sighed. "We know you drove there; you have admitted taking the drugs to the farmhouse.""Yes, I said that I did.""So who gave you the directions?""I think it was the man you call Alexander Fitzpatrick. I swear I didn't know who he really was—I've said this.""My problem is, the note is not in his handwriting.""Then I dunno, I can't remember."Anna sighed. Gordon glanced at Anna; he couldn't fathom out what was so important about the note. Anna tapped her foot with impatience. "Come on, Adrian! Did Fitzpatrick just hand this note to you?"Adrian scratched at his head. "Okay, I loaded up the jeep. As best as I can remember, Mr. Collingwood—""You mean Fitzpatrick?""Yeah, he was shutting up the tailgate and he was telling me to drive carefully, as the last thing he wanted was me to be pulled over for speeding—well, it's obvious why. He gave me some money to fill up at a petrol station, which I did; it was the one midway down the M40.""So he just passed the directions to you?""No, he gave them to me before—he said the farmhouse was hard to find. I was to follow the directions and not miss the small lane, as it was badly lit around there.""So he had this note with the directions for you?""Yeah, that's right.""Did you see who gave the note to Fitzpatrick?""Mr. Nolan wrote them out for him.""Damien Nolan?""Yes, he lives at the farmhouse with Honour, his wife.""So you saw Mr. Nolan?""Not really. He drove up and they talked for a bit, then Mr. Nolan scribbled the directions and handed them to—""Where did this take place?" she interrupted."It was on the boat. It was the day we drove to Gatwick, but in the morning, quite early. Like I said, he didn't come aboard, he just drove down the jetty and they met and he handed over the directions.""Thank you," Anna said.Gordon glanced at her; she was packing her notebook away. She then stood up and asked for the prison officer to open the interview-room door."Is that it?" Adrian asked."Yes, Mr. Summers, that is all I came here for."As Anna unlocked her Mini, she couldn't help but smile. She had known all along the note was of importance, even though Langton had dismissed it."Go on, Gordon, ask me," she said as she reversed out."Well, I can't quite fathom out the importance of whether or not Damien Nolan wrote the note. We know that he did, because it's his handwriting, right?""Because, Gordon, Mr. Nolan has walked with no charges. He claims he knew nothing, saw nothing, and heard nothing, like the proverbial monkeys—but he has lied. He claims not to know Alexander Fitzpatrick. He claims the note could have been written at any time; he also claimed that he couldn't even recall writing it! We now know he was not only in London, but also knew of the boat anchored at Chelsea harbor. He passed the note on the day Fitzpatrick and Adrian Summers picked up the drugs from Gatwick Airport." Anna glanced at Gordon. "Do you understand now?"Gordon looked blank.Anna slapped the steering wheel with the flat of her hand. "Mr. Nolan is in this entire setup, Gordon! Until now, we never had any proof of just how involved he was. He must have known exactly what was being picked up, and known that they were going to store the drugs at his farmhouse.""What are we going to do?"Anna said nothing as she drove through Brixton toward the M40."Shouldn't we relay this back to the incident room?" Gordon asked."I'm not ready yet."Gordon made no reply; he found it hard to get a handle on what Anna was intending to do, and he also found her attitude egotistical, to say the least. But the conversation was halted, as she put on Radio 4, and continued to drive.Anna parked in the small lay-by at the side of Mrs. Eatwell's cottage in Oxfordshire. There was a Ford Fiesta parked up, with a police logo, and ribbons flapping around the garage from the scene of crime search.When Anna knocked, the door was opened by the family liaison officer assigned to Mrs. Eatwell, who was under house arrest. Wendy Hall was a pleasant rotund officer, who immediately asked if they would like coffee, and ushered them into the kitchen."Where is Mrs. Eatwell?""She's resting. She doesn't really come down but for her breakfast, and then stays up in her room, reading the papers.""How is she holding up?"Wendy laughed. "She's a feisty old lady, but half the time I don't really think she is aware of how serious her situation is. I've tried to explain to her that she will be charged with allowing her premises to store the drugs."Anna sat at the table as coffee brewed. "She's also going to be charged with perverting the course of justice, and allowing her son to stay here, because she was obviously aware of exactly what he was up to.""She won't hear a word said against him,"Wendy said as she fetched cups and opened a biscuit tin."Has Damien Nolan been here?""He came by last night, brought sausages and some ham and vegetables. She adores him; gets all flirtatious when he's around her. I have to say, he is very charming and seems to genuinely care for her. He told her that Honour was in Holloway, but that he would be able to look out for her."Anna sipped the piping-hot coffee—she really needed it—while Gordon tucked into the chocolate creams. Wendy sat down with them and, like Gordon, wolfed down biscuits. She told them how she was working on a shift with another officer, as Mrs. Eatwell was not to be left alone. She said that most evenings they had supper together. Damien had joined them the previous evening; they had even opened a bottle of wine. "She spends hours looking over her photo albums: she's had quite a life . Two marriages, both with very handsome men and both younger than she was. Her first husband divorced her over an affair with an army officer, the second died about five years ago of cancer. As you cansee, the cottage has been renovated within an inch of its life; all mod cons and central heating." Wendy chatted on as Anna finished her coffee, then asked if she could see some of the photo albums. Gordon helped himself to a fresh cup and more chocolate biscuits as Wendy brought in four leather-covered albums. "Is Damien related to her, do you think?""Mr. Nolan? She has never mentioned it if he is. She doesn't really talk much about recent events, or her son; she closes off if you bring up his name. She mostly talks about the past: she was a real beauty with flame-red hair, and quite a snazzy dresser. From what I've gathered, Honour took great care of her; she didn't appear to want for anything."Anna listened, turning over the pages of the album. Mrs. Eatwell had indeed been a very attractive young woman. There were shots of her by various cars and on holidays with a young boy, smiling and waving into the camera. A couple of pages were filled with photographs of a man whose face had been scratched out, and others of a good-looking man holding a tennis racket. Wendy said that it was her late husband, Henry Eatwell.Anna began to flick through the pages until there were more recent photographs: Damien standing smiling with his arms around Mrs. Eatwell, Damien in a Panama hat, drinking on a balcony somewhere; many of Damien and Honour together, some with a small white terrier, others with Mrs. Eatwell in a group. There were also numerous photographs of Alexander Fitzpatrick as a young child and teenager; even one when he was wearing a mortar-board and gown. Like his mother, Alexander had been very good-looking in his youth; there were many photographs of him in various poses with cricket whites, tennis shorts, always smiling and laughing. There were a few of Julia Brandon, one with a baby in her arms and another with a toddler, but there seemed to be no recent pictures of Alexander.Anna closed the album. "I need to talk to Mrs. Eatwell, Wendy, so if you could ask her to come in when she is ready."Wendy agreed and walked out. Anna sat, tapping the photo albums, as Gordon took their dirty cups to the sink.He looked out of the window into the garden. It had a massive willow tree, taking up almost all of the lawn. As they were at the back of the house, they couldn't see the garage where the drugs had been stashed. The garden was reasonably well maintained; there was a child's swing hooked over a branch of the tree and a few large plastic toys. "Looks like her grandchildren might have visited."Anna texted the duty manager to see if they had gained a DNA result from the children. She wanted to know if Damien was the father of one of them, if not both. Phil turned to Langton and said that he had tried to contact Anna, but received no reply. He was able to confirm that she and Gordon had visited Adrian Summers in Brixton Prison. Langton asked why the interview had taken place, but Phil couldn't confirm what the reason was; just that Anna had specifically asked for it to be arranged."She was going to interview Mrs. Eatwell after seeing Adrian Summers, so maybe she's there by now and has turned off her mobile."Langton frowned and asked if they had the liaison officer's number; they should double-check if Anna was in Oxfordshire. He also wanted it confirmed that Damien Nolan was still in Oxfordshire."He was released," Phil said as he dialed."Yes, I know. But that doesn't mean to say I've finished with him."Phil was put through to Wendy. He passed over the phone.Langton had a quiet conversation with her, and asked her to make sure Anna called him when she was through. "Yeah, she's with Mrs. Eatwell," he muttered, and then took himself off to use Cunningham's office.Once inside, Langton took off his overcoat and chucked it over a chair, then he sat at the desk and opened the file with Alexander Fitzpatrick's name on the front. Inside was a record of all the data they had acquired on him. He proceeded to check all the various sightings and suppositions that had been accumulated. Anna Travis's name popped up over and over again: she had doggedly persisted with the possibility that he was their man from the earliest stages of the inquiry. Langton closed the first file, and began to read the second, which dealt with Honour and Damien Nolan.Someone rapped on the door and Phil put his head in. "Gov, the results of the DNA test on Julia Brandon's children: the firstborn, can't get enough for a positive, but the second little girl is Damien Nolan's child.""Has Travis called in yet?""Nope, but I just texted her the results, as she wanted it confirmed.""Thanks, Phil. Can you see if the governor of Brixton will okay a phone call to Adrian Summers?""Sure. He's popular today."Langton grunted as he returned to reading the file. Yet again he noted just how often DI Travis's name cropped up; she was really hands-on throughout the inquiry. It was mainly down to her that they had forged ahead to the final conclusions. The fact that, after their extensive investigation, they still did not have Alexander Fitzpatrick banged up was a real bone of contention with Langton. It was like rubbing salt into a wound; the fact that he had been a witness to the man's audacity when he impersonated a Fraud Squad officer made Langton really smart.He leaned back, closing his eyes, trying to place himself in Fitzpatrick's position. Did he by now have another false passport? Had he somehow arranged to get out of the UK? Or was he still hiding out? If he was, who could possibly give him shelter? The more Langton tried to think where Fitzpatrick could go, the more he came to a grinding halt.Langton physically jumped as the desk phone rang, and he snatched it up. Phil had got Adrian Summers's permission to take the call and he was being brought to the phone. It was a matter of minutes before Langton spoke to him, querying what had been discussed with Dl Travis. He replaced the receiver, now privy to the fact that, according to Summers, Damien Nolan had written the directions to the farmhouse. Langton buzzed into the interview room to ask Phil to bring him the statements from Damien Nolan. He then checked the time, and his face twisted with annoyance. Travis had received this information at nine-fifteen that morning; it was now after three. Once again, he felt that Travis was acting as she had done in the past—without team input—but, at that precise moment, he was not sure of the relevance. However, after rereading Damien Nolans statements, Langton knew full well.Nolan denied passing any note; his lawyer had said that the directions to the farmhouse could have been written at any time. Nolan had also denied being the father of Julia Brandon's youngest child. Nolan had implicated his wife as being part of the drug scam by his refusal to answer any question with regard to Honour; all he had responded was "no comment."Langton rapped the edge of his desk with his knuckles; he then placed a call to his contact. The undercover officer was able to verify that the suspect was in residence, and showed no signs of moving out. Langton, without any confirmation to the team, had retained twenty-four-hour surveillance on Damien Nolan. He was now concerned that his plan of waiting might be jeopardized by Anna Travis. It never occurred to him that, like his protegee, he too had acted unprofessionally by not consulting the team. Like Anna, he had suspected Nolan of being implicated; unlike her, he had not placed the note as a priority.Mrs. Eatwell was wearing a pale oyster twinset with a pearl necklace. She had a tweed skirt and velvet slippers and, for her age, was remarkably sprightly; only her hands were an indication, as they were very arthritic. She was sitting in a wing-backed chair close to the fire, and spoke to Wendy as if she was her personal maid, asking for a cup of green tea. Anna recalled the first time she had met her: how she had explained about the table and D'Anton's visit, and how she had given directions to the farmhouse farther along the lane. Anna now suspected that she must have phoned Honour to expect visitors—the police. Just how much she knew, Anna was determined to find out."Thank you for agreeing to talk to me," Anna began."I don't really have an option, do I?""Not really.""I don't see that I can be of any help. I really have nothing else to add to my previous statements. I have been questioned over and over again ...""I know that, Mrs. Eatwell, and you have denied being aware of the drugs discovered in your garage, but you have admitted caring for your son—so you were, at all times, fully aware that he was a wanted criminal.""He is my son: what was I supposed to do?""Do you know where he is now?""No, I do not.""When was the last time you saw him?"Mrs. Eatwell explained that Alex, as she called him, first visited her over eighteen months ago. She said that she had had no contact with him for many years, and was surprised when he called in to see her. She hardly recognized him, though he had provided for her since her husband died."So did your son arrange monies to be paid to you?""He opened an account, and I just withdrew any money when I was required to pay for work done. The cottage needed to be renovated, and I only have my pension.""What name is the account under?" Anna asked.Mrs. Eatwell became wary, and said that it was her personal account. Anna whispered to Gordon and he left the room. He went to talk to Wendy to ask about Mrs. Eatwell's bank accounts and access to any statements. In the meantime, Anna pressed on, asking about the time her son came to stay, when he was injured. Mrs. Eatwell said that he had turned up very late one night, and she had wanted him to go to hospital, as the wound to his shoulder was infected."Did he seek medical advice?""No. I bathed it with disinfectant, and replaced the bandages; it was a deep flesh wound, and he was in a great deal of pain.""How long was he here with you?""Just a few days. He slept in the spare bedroom; in fact, he slept most of the time. He hardly touched his food, then he showered and dressed and said he would be leaving."Anna flicked the pages in her notebook back and forth as she worked out the time frame of when Alexander Fitzpatrick had stayed; she knew it had to be directly after the shooting of Frank Brandon. "During the time he was here, did he have any visitors?"Mrs. Eatwell conceded that Honour had been to see him."What about Damien Nolan?""What about him?""Did he also visit your son?""No.""Was there anyone else?"Mrs. Eatwell pursed her lips, trying to think."What about the visit from the antique dealer?""Oh yes—he came. He wanted to know if I had any other furniture to sell. He asked about the table I had sold to the local antique shop." She continued to explain that she had not been aware of the table's value; it was outside the kitchen door and she used it to stack firewood. When Sudmore had seen it, he paid her two hundred and fifty pounds for it. "It was in a dreadful state. I couldn't believe that it would have had any value at all, so I agreed to sell it.""Did you know that it was Georgian?""Good heavens, no—then Julius D'Anton came to the cottage. He said he had seen the table at an antique fair and wondered if I had any other pieces. You see, there was quite a lot when I moved in here, but I didn't like it. A lot I gave away to the local charity shops, and I also burned some of it to make way for all this nice modern furniture."Anna let her continue talking as she underlined in her notebook Julius D'Anton; the fact that Mrs. Eatwell knew his name made her suspicious. "This man, Julius D'Anton ...""Yes? I've been asked about him before. As I just said, he came round.""Did you know him?""I didn't. Even when he told me who he was, it didn't mean anything, but he said that he remembered me.""Remembered you?" Anna repeated.

"Yes. He said that he had known Alex, and that he had met me numerous times when they were undergraduates together, but I didn't remember him. To be honest, I didn't really like him; he seemed rather seedy."

Anna asked if Fitzpatrick had also seen him, as he was in the cottage recovering.

Mrs. Eatwell shrugged. "He could have seen him, I don't remember. When he came back, I wouldn't open the door. He said that his van had tipped into a ditch, so I gave him the number of the local garage."

"And where was your son?"

"Upstairs, I told you: he was sleeping."

Anna couldn't get any more details as to whether or not Fitzpatrick had confronted Julius D'Anton, as Mrs. Eatwell maintained that he did not leave his room. However, she suspected that he had; he must have been very wary that D'Anton was sniffing around. She knew that D'Anton had got a lift from Adrian Summers in the Mitsubishi; that he had tried to buy the table and had cash enough to pay for it; then he was driven to London and, according to Adrian, had taken the drugs that were stashed in the back of the jeep.

Gordon returned and bent to whisper to Anna: all Mrs. Eatwell's accounts had been checked. She had one for her pension to be paid into, which was also topped up by her late husband's pension; there was also a mortgage account, but they had found no other accounts or checkbooks.

"Mrs. Eatwell, we have your pension account, but we do not seem to have any others. You said that your son opened an account for you. Could you give me these particulars?"

Mrs. Eatwell said that was all that she had, and Anna must have been mistaken.

Anna joined Wendy in the kitchen. The accounts were laid out on the kitchen table. Looking down the deposits and withdrawals, she could see no large sums of money. There was only eighty pounds in her pension account. The mortgage account had monthly withdrawals, and was virtually empty.

"She's got to have another account. We need to know how much she has, and if her son is also a signatory. Get onto the local branch and see what they can tell you."Anna returned to questioning Mrs. Eatwell, eager to put more pressure on her. She was certain that Fitzpatrick had to have been unnerved by seeing Julius D'Anton, especially when D'Anton had recognized his mother. It was a coincidence that they had not even considered, but it made it more likely that Fitzpatrick had played a part in D'Anton's death.Anna sat down as Gordon picked up Mrs. Eatwell's empty teacup. "Would you like a refill?" he asked."No, thank you.""Right, Mrs. Eatwell, can I just go back to the time your son was staying with you?""I've told you all I know.""Maybe you have, but there are just a few things I need clarified.""I don't feel like answering any more questions. What I would like to know is when I can see my grandchildren. As their mother is dead, I should be allowed to have access to them. They can come and live with me.""Your grandchildren? Are you aware that Damien Nolan is the father of the youngest child?"She looked shocked but recovered remarkably quickly."We'd like to take a DNA test from you to determine if the first child is your son's, as we were informed that this child was conceived by IVF treatment.""You can take whatever tests you want; it doesn't alter the fact that they are my grandchildren.""I think it does, Mrs. Eatwell, because Damien Nolan, as the child's biological father, will also have a claim—unless he is also related to you."Mrs. Eatwell remained silent."Is Damien Nolan related to you?"Again, there was no reply, but the old lady was now becoming very agitated. She began twisting her gnarled, bony hands in her lap, and she suddenly snapped out, "That woman, that Julia, was a money-grabbingwhore! I don't believe for a second that Damien would have had anything to do with her. She is a liar. I know it's not good to speak ill of the dead but she was a nasty, vicious little bitch.""We have it verified that Damien is the father, Mrs. Eatwell, so it seems not only did your son Alexander have a relationship with her, but so did Mr. Nolan.""I don't believe you; he wouldn't have done that to Honour.""Well, apparently he did. Honour was having a relationship with Alexander. They were living together in Julia's house in St. John's Wood.""No! She wouldn't do that—she wouldn't do that to Damien! She loves him.""She has said to me that she was in love with Alexander and that her marriage to Damien was a sham.""That is not true!" The old lady's voice was becoming shrill.At this moment, Wendy tapped on the door and gestured for Anna to join her. The local Nat West had refused to give any details, bar the fact that there were other accounts with Mrs. Eatwell's signature, along with that of a Mr. Anthony Collingwood. Anna instructed Gordon to drive to the bank and show his ID to get more information; she then turned to Mrs. Eatwell."I think, Mrs. Eatwell, you should start telling me the truth. Do you know where your son is?""No, I do not."Frustrated, Anna began to show Mrs. Eatwell the photographs of the victims they knew to have been killed by Fitzpatrick. Last of all, she showed her Frank Brandon's photograph. "This man was with your son the night he got injured and came here to you; he was shot dead. Your son left this man, Donny Petrozzo, dead in his jeep.This man was Julia's financial adviser, David Rushton; we know your son killed him. This woman was strangled—""Stop it! Don't do this to me!""Mrs. Eatwell, I need some answers from you. I need to find your son."The old lady broke down and started crying, repeating that she didn't know, as she plucked a tissue from a box beside her. "I swear to you, I don't know where he is. To be honest, even though he is my son, if I knew I would tell you. He has been nothing but trouble from the time he was a student. I have been through hell because of him.""But you took money from him?""Yes, because I didn't have any medical insurance for my husband. I was desperate. You cannot imagine what I felt when he just turned up, as if all the years between meant nothing.""Had he kept in touch with Damien and Honour?""No, no, he just topped up the account for me. We never mentioned him; it was too painful. I had the police morning, noon, and night when he was first arrested all those years ago; they hounded me and I swear it was because of him that my husband got so ill. The strain of it all was terrible.""So when he came to the cottage, before he came here injured ...""I didn't know what to do. I said I didn't want to see him after what had happened to my husband and he just laughed at me; said that I was living very comfortably for someone who didn't want anything to do with him. Sometimes it felt as if he hated me, blamed me for everything, and I had such guilt. You see, he was such a lovable little boy and he worshipped his father; having to bring him up on my own was difficult. It's strange, but the older he got, the more he became like his father; he could still turn on the charm, and he had this manner to him. He could draw people to him like a magnet but, underneath it all, he was very cruel.""But he knew Damien and Honour, didn't he?" Mrs. Eatwell was now very distraught. Anna felt bad about continuing to put pressure on her, but she carried on nevertheless. "Mrs. Eatwell, your son kept in contact with them, didn't he?""He had to, because of the money. It was the only thing he ever cared about—money, and that nasty little bitch.""Julia?""Yes! She was the reason why he came back. She had done something with his accounts and he had lost all his money in America. You don't seem to understand that we were frightened of him.""I don't think Honour was frightened of him.""She was—we all were. Whatever she is saying now isn't the truth. I had to have him here. I had no option, because he was sick, and if you think I wasn't scared about what would happen if anyone found out, then you are wrong. Telling me all these terrible things about what he has done gives me even more reason to have been frightened." She wiped her eyes, and blew her nose, slowly calming down. "I did not know what was in those crates, but it wasn't hard for me to guess. I had no option but to let him store them in my garage, just as poor Honour had to let him put them at the farm; she was as frightened as I was.""Damien had to be aware of what they contained," Anna said.She refused to agree, repeating that only she and Honour knew, and that Damien was innocent. Anna's mobile rang and she moved into the hallway. It was Gordon calling from the bank.Mrs. Eatwell's account, under the joint signature of Anthony Collingwood, had been cleaned out of seven hundred thousand pounds. The money had been transferred to an account in Geneva and subsequently moved on from there; the transaction was done by Anthony Collingwood. When asked if he had been to the bank in person, they admitted that he had; it was the first time they had actually met him.Anna cut off the call; this was really bad news. It meant that Fitzpatrick, far from being cornered and broke, was now fully financed. With that much money, he could be anywhere. It also meant that Mrs. Eatwell had only her pension left.When Anna told her, instead of being angry or even upset, the old lady said she felt nothing but relief. "I told you that all he ever cared about was money. Well, now you can see he's taken everything—even from me, his mother.""I'm sorry."Perhaps it was the relief of knowing her son had taken the money and gone that made Doris begin to give Anna more details of her past. "You know, he blamed me for everything—even blamed me for his obsession with wealth. You see, his father, my first husband, was a very well-off, aristocratic man. Never did a day's work in his life. We lived a life of luxury: beautiful house, chauffeurs and staff, holidays abroad. Alex went to an expensive prep school in Kensington; he was exceptionally clever. Even as young as six, he had such a charm, but he was very spoiled. He got whatever he wanted from his father.""You were divorced?""Yes, it was very unpleasant. Alex blamed me; he was too young to understand what had happened. We went from having everything to nothing. I had to take him out of Eton because I couldn't afford the fees. In those days, there was no real protection for divorcees and even though I was awarded alimony, it was never paid."Anna sat at the kitchen table as Mrs. Eatwell made some toast, then spread a cheese slice on top and put it under the grill. She sliced up tomatoes and some ham, and then put the slices together, carefully cutting off the crusts. She got a plate and placed the sandwich onto it, and sat unfolding a napkin."I was pregnant," she said quietly.Anna said nothing. Then, after a long pause, while Mrs. Eatwell stared at her sandwich and cut it into small neat pieces, she spoke. "You were pregnant?"Mrs. Eatwell eventually whispered, "Damien," and pushed the plate aside. Anna had been right.Damien Nolan had been adopted at birth, as Doris had been unable to care for him since she had to go out to work. She explained how, ten years ago, Damien had contacted her. He had become everything that Alexander was not. Honour had looked after her; without them, she doubted she would have been able to cope with the death of her husband. Her second marriage had been very loving, but Alexander had loathed his stepfather, who was the antithesis of Alexander's own father: a simple, quiet man who tried to care for his stepson, only to have to go through the public outcry when it became known he was an international drug dealer. With the press over the arrest of her son, her husband lost his job, then was diagnosed with throat cancer. She was once again financially insecure, until money started to come in from Alexander to pay for medical bills.The sandwich remained untouched. She asked Anna if it was possible to keep Damien s relationship to Alexander secret as, if it was to get out, he would lose his job at the university. Her eyes brimmed with tears. "I love him. and to have him back in my life meant so much. To have Alex back was a nightmare. Part of me hopes that you will find him, but the other part prays that you won't because, if you do, it'll start again; the press will hound us and 1 don't want Damien hurt."Anna said she would try, but couldn't make any promises. She did not mention that Mrs. Eatwell would still be charged with perverting the course of justice, along with various other charges.As Anna walked down the pathway of the cottage, Gordon was just pulling up. "DCS Langton is on his way; he said we should meet up at a fish-and-chip restaurant in the village. He does not want you to interview Damien Nolan.""Bollocks to that," she said, and started to walk up the lane." Tell him you just missed me. I'll be at the farmhouse."Gordon watched her for a moment before he reversed into the driveway of the cottage to turn and head back to the village.It was farther than Anna had remembered and, in some places, almost impassable, is there were deep muddy potholes. She hopped over a few and then sank into a deep one she hadn't noticed. Turning a bend in the lane, she saw two men digging a trench; they had reels of steel pipes and a trailer parked in a field. She watched them covertly for at least five minutes. They immediately reported the sighting of Anna, unaware of who she was.Anna guessed that the two men were surveillance officers; at least they appeared to be hard at work. Langton had not mentioned that the farm was still under surveillance—typical of him, she thought—and at the same time realized that he too must have had suspicions about Damien Nolan.Anna did not go toward the front door, but headed around the side of the farmhouse, as she had done previously. She could see the stable door to the kitchen was open at the top end, and there was a distinct smell of burning toast. As she approached, charred bread was hurled out and she could hear swearing."Hello," she said as she came closer.Damien appeared with a mesh toasting rack in his hand. "I didn't hit you, did I?" he asked."No, just missed me."He waved the rack. "I always forget how fast toast does on the Aga. You want to see me?""Yes."He opened the bottom of the stable door and wafted the rack like a tennis racket to indicate she should enter. "Are you hungry?"Anna stepped into the kitchen. There was a roaring fire in the grate and the lid of the hot oven open on the Aga."1 can offer you cheese on toast, or scrambled eggs and bacon, or a BLT," Damien said as he went to the big pine table and began to cut two slices of bread from a fresh crusty loaf."I'd like a BLT," Anna replied."Right, you keep an eye on the toast. The bacon should be ready any second."Like Doris, his mother, he sliced tomatoes, moving back and forth to a big, old American fridge to fetch some lettuce. He appeared to be totally at ease and in no way alarmed by Anna's presence. She crossed to the Aga and checked on the slices heating in the toast rack; she had never used an Aga before and was amazed how fast it had toasted the bread. She turned the rack over as Damien took out a tray of crisped bacon and then opened ajar of mayonnaise. Anna removed the bread, joining him at the table. "I've just come from your mother's." He spread the mayonnaise over the toast. "Yes, she said you were there." Anna laughed; Mrs. Eatwell must have sussed that Anna would be coming to see Damien, so had called him. "Now then, would you like a nice glass of Merlot or a coffee?" Anna asked for a cup of tea. He placed the big Aga kettle on the burner, uncorked an open bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass. He moved quickly and decisively, very much at home, fetching plates, glasses, and cutlery and placing them onto the table with napkins. Then he gestured for Anna to sit as he made her a cup of tea. "Do you take sugar?" "No, thank you." Anna was itching to start eating, but waited until he sat down and handed over her tea; he then raised his wineglass. "Cheers!" He sipped the wine and let it linger in his mouth. "Mmm, bit rancid, but it'll do; I could open a fresh botde if you changed your mind." "No, the tea is fine." He sat opposite her, and took tucked into hers, feeling in questioning him. "Will she have to go on trial?" he asked quietly."Probably. She seems able to deal with it. I doubt that she'll be badly treated, but she did lie about the whereabouts of her other son. Even though I don't believe she knew what the crates contained, she nevertheless knew they were there." "She's in her eighties, for God's sake!" "I am aware of that, but allowing her son to hide out in her cottage is an offense. She obviously knew he was wanted there is the fact that, by not being honest with gained access to a large sum of money." Damien took another bite of the sandwich. She noted that he gave no reaction to the fact that Fitzpatrick had withdrawn money. "Seven hundred thousand," Anna said as she too continued eating, then licked her fingers, as the mayonnaise had dribbled. "Will she be taken into the station in London?" he asked, still not referring to the money. "Possibly. We have an officer with her and she is aware she is under house arrest; at least she has not been uprooted from her home.know about the account in Anthony Collingwood's name, mother as a signatory?" "No." "So how did you think she years?" large bite of his sandwich. Anna a quandary as to how she should begin us, her son has now . Did you with your was able to renovate the cottage over the : money by her husband." "I presumed she had been left money by her husband.' It felt like they were just making conversation but, by the time she had finished her BLT, she picked up her briefcase and took out her notebook. "I'm here to confirm a few outstanding things. From your statement, you denied meeting Fitzpatrick." She glanced up at him; he was scraping around his plate with the crusts from his toast. "The handwritten note with directions to the farmhouse: we have verified that it is your handwriting—"He interrupted her. "This is stupid. My lawyer made it clear that, as evidence, it was rather pointless, as there is no proof of exactly when it was written. But I have actually given it a bit more thought."He got up, collected her dirty plate and his own, and crossed to the dishwasher. Anna waited as he stashed their dishes and then ran water over the oven tray he had used for the bacon. He was wearing jeans and a fawn cashmere sweater, with brown suede loafers and no socks. He was, she could tell, very fit; his lean stomach and long legs made him attractive physically, and he had an easygoing, unaffected manner. She had liked him from the first time she had met him.She flushed at herself even thinking about his attractiveness. "You said you'd been thinking about the note?""Yes. It had to have been about two or three years ago, maybe even more, but I wrote the directions for Julia. I mentioned she stayed once; well, she didn't actually stay at the farm—she hated it—and so moved into the cottage.""With your mother?"She saw a small glimmer of a reaction. He smiled and returned to the table to pour himself more wine. "I said you were very intuitive, didn't I?""Why didn't you admit it when I asked?""I didn't think it was any of your business. My mother has been very protective about her private life. It was a period when she regrets many of her decisions.""You were adopted?""Yes. I didn't even consider trying to trace my birth mother, as I had no real reason to; my adopted parents were a very caring couple. It wasn't until they passed away that I contemplated trying to find her.They never made any secret of my adoption. After they died, I found many letters. They had always kept in touch, so it was very simple for me to make contact." He sat opposite Anna again. "My mother had been through some very hard times, especially after my birth. 1 think Alex suffered from the divorce; one moment he had everything any child could want, and a father, then it was all taken away. It probably warped him for the rest of his life. He was in trouble with drugs from a very early age; not as an addict, but he discovered that it was a very easy way to make a lot of money. This was before I knew him, obviously. He made headlines when he escaped from court, but I had no reason to even think about our being related. I just always knew about him.""When did you contact your mother?"He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. "Be about fifteen years ago. Another reason was, Honour and I hoped to start a family, so it was understandable that I should want to know more about my background."Anna nodded; it was all so easily acceptable, everything he said. "Did Honour know Mrs. Eatwell before you discovered she was your mother?"He nodded. "I believe so.""So she also knew about Julia and Alexander Fitzpatrick?"He became evasive, turning away. "It's a very small world.""Did Honour suspect you were related?""Not really.""But she had to know her sister was being kept by him?""Obviously, but she had little to do with Julia.""We have verified that her second child is yours.""Really? Well, that's something I didn't know."Anna suspected he was lying, not that his manner had changed; he was still appearing very relaxed and at ease. "According to Julia, at this time, Honour was living with Alexander, so you had to have been aware of who she was seeing—she was your wife.""Yes, I suppose I did.""So you knew who he was.""Yes, obviously.""Why didn't you contact the police? You must have known he was a wanted criminal?""Ah, well, it's slightly more complicated. By this time, I knew he was my brother. Something I haven't really told you was that Honour was Alex's girlfriend before I met her; he met Julia through her. Julia was, as you know, a lot younger—twelve years—and it was very painful for Honour when he took up with her sister."Anna jotted down notes. The complicated marital situation between the two brothers and sisters was like something out of a soap opera. She asked if he could repeat how Alexander had made contact. She was told that he simply just turned up; first at his mother's and then he came to the farmhouse."Did he know about you?""I suppose he did. As you saw, we do look similar—well, more so now since he's had so much plastic surgery. He's also taller and older.""And you knew he was a wanted criminal from the moment he surfaced?""Yes, as I just said, but it was impossible for me to shop him. I had to consider Honour.""Consider your wife?""Yes. Her sister was his mistress and had been for years; in fact, I think she was only sixteen or seventeen when he took up with her. I was not aware of how often he returned to London, nor what Julia's relationship with him entailed. All I knew was that Julia had a very luxurious lifestyle and, on the rare occasions she visited, it wasn't all that pleasant." He gestured to the kitchen. "We live a very simple life; Julia was jetting around the world and dripping in jewels.""But surely you knew how she came by this lifestyle?"He shrugged."Alexander Fitzpatrick was an international drug dealer. He was on the U.S. Most Wanted lists, yet you say he was often in London with Julia, and visited here?""No, that is not correct; he did not visit here. As I have said, I did not have any personal contact with him until about nine months ago. I was aware that he continued to see Julia, and that she joined him all around the world when he sent for her. As to whether or not he came in and out of the UK, I had no idea.""But Honour knew?""Possibly, but the sisters were not on good terms with each other. As I explained, Honour had been Alex's lover before Julia and he dropped her. I think it happened when he took them both on his yacht to the South of France.""The painting.""I'm sorry?"Anna said that she had seen a painting of the boat, Dare Devil, but that it had been removed by the second time she had been to the farm."Well, that would have been Honour. It was while she and Julia were away with Alex that he took up with Julia, then it was years before they contacted each other again. By that time, Honour and I were married. We used to live in Oxford, and only moved here to be close to my mother."Anna flicked through her notebook. "So Honour always knew about Alexander Fitzpatrick?"He sighed, becoming irritated. "Yes, I'd say it was pretty obvious, but she was not likely to tip off the police. Besides, he came and went for years on end, usually taking Julia with him. He lived in Florida for a time, and I think in the Bahamas and also in the Philippines, but I had no interest in him. My wife was not likely to tell me if she had seen him.""Did you like him?""Like him?" He shrugged. "He was very charming. I never really got to know him—well, not until recently. He was rather desperate as he had got into financial trouble; he said he'd lost a fortune, all his investments.""So did he mention to you what his intentions were?""No.""He never brought up the subject of importing drugs?""No.""But Honour knew?""I doubt it."Anna tapped her notebook with her pen. "So he turns up, desperate?"Damien leaned forward and patted the table with the flat of his hand. "No, that isn't quite what I said. He may have been desperate for money, but he was not a desperate man. You have to try and understand the type of person he was. Alex had millions stashed all over the world; I doubt if he could recollect half the places he'd got hidden accounts. The bulk of his fortune was tied up in Germany and the U.S. The recent mortgage fiasco over there had closed the German bank, and all his investments went belly-up on Wall Street. The amount of money he lost must have been staggering for him to take such risks, coming back here to do business. I only ever saw him really angry once, and that was when he tried to explain how Julia had done some kind of fraud against him. Apparently, she had switched over his accounts into offshore banks. Don't ask me how or what it entailed, because I don't have the slightest idea. All he said was that she had really screwed him over and he needed to release a lot of money to pay off some people in Miami.""So, the time you say he appeared angry, would have been before he picked up the drugs? Did he discuss that he had a shipment coming into Gatwick—"Again, she was interrupted. "No, he did not. I have answered this at the station. I was not privy to him turning up here with any drugs, nor did I see anyone else with him. I was at work. I had no idea that Honour had agreed to stash the crates in the henhouse. To be honest, if I had known, I would not have allowed it to happen. I was not here when she moved them to my mother's; I would not have allowed that either. All I did know was he turned up and was staying at my mother's because he was injured. I never saw him or spoke to him during that time.""And you never thought to contact the police?"He said that he thought of it, but he couldn't, because of Honour and his mother."Even when you had seen the papers, the news broadcasts, the crime shows? You had to have known that he was wanted—and, not only that, but he was dangerous?"

Damien got up and stuffed his hands into his pockets, standing with his back to the fire. He became quite tense, his voice harsh. "Why don't you try putting yourself in my position? My wife in love with him and now embroiled in his drug dealing, my mother unwittingly involved, and Julia terrified about what he would do to her. Then there are the children—my child! How in God's name could I do anything but behave like the proverbial ostrich? I did nothing. I am starting to get really irritated by your persistent attempts to make out that I was in any way involved."

"I am only attempting to get to the truth," Anna retorted sharply.

"The truth is exactly as I have described: he had us all caught like rabbits in the spotlight, afraid to make a move. You asked me if I liked him—liked him? I hated his guts. He was a vain, egotistical bastard; he would use anyone, and that included his kids and my wife."

"Your wife claimed that you had an open marriage."

He gave a short, mirthless laugh. Turning to put more logs on the fire, he kicked at the burned wood with the toe of his shoe. "I don't know what she claimed. You could say it was open on her side; she never stopped loving him."

"Did you have a sexual relationship with Julia to get back at her?"

"No, I did not. I had sex with her once."

"To get back at him?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "It was years ago. It wasn't connected to the drug deal. I had Julia calling me and crying about some woman who had moved into the house in St. John's Wood. I didn't even know he was in the country, and I hadn't even met him. This was the time I gave Julia the directions to come here. As soon as she told me Alex had another woman, I knew it had to be Honour, because she was not at home; she'd made some excuse about a friend being ill. Julia turns up here and ..." He gave an openhanded gesture. Then he walked back to the table and sat, stretching his long legs in front of him. "That's life, isn't it? Honour desperate for a child; I spend one night with Julia and she's pregnant."

"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 offthe 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 kitchentable. 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 todrive; 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."Anna hurtled into the incident room. There were only skeleton staff on duty, so she asked if Langton was around. She was told he was in Cunningham's office. She barged in, gasping, "He was still in London at two-thirty this afternoon!"Langton sprang up from behind the desk. "What?"She tried to get her breath. "He visited Honour Nolan in Holloway; he bloody gave Damien Nolan's passport for identification!""Jesus Christ! Did you talk to her?""No, I came straight back here as soon as I was told! This narrows down where he might have gone to next, so we can step up the search for him ..."Langton was already out and yelling for everyone to get onto the airports; then, gesturing for Anna to join him, he said he would telephone the prison. "They won't let you see her," she responded.He turned on her, and snapped that they would drag her out by her hair if needs be.