The Night Hawks Read online

Page 24

‘Good idea,’ says Judy. She feels a bit guilty for not starting supper herself but luckily Cathbad doesn’t think like that. The eggs are in a ceramic hen on the counter, fresh from the farm shop, free-range, some still with straw attached. Judy gets out a bowl and a whisk. Cathbad starts to cut the bread. Thing barks from the hall a second before there’s a knock on the door.

  ‘Shall I go?’ says Michael.

  ‘No,’ says Judy quickly. ‘I will.’

  Cathbad is by her side as she approaches the front door. A tall shape is visible through the glass.

  ‘Who is it?’ says Michael, picking up on his parents’ nervousness.

  ‘Probably just one of the neighbours wanting to borrow something,’ says Cathbad.

  But, when Judy opens the door, she sees, not a friendly neighbour, but the man she interviewed at the police station that afternoon.

  David Brown.

  ‘What are you doing?’ says the man. ‘Get away from the phone.’

  Ruth drops the receiver. She can hear a voice asking, ‘Are you there?’ She hopes that the operator can hear what’s going on, that someone will rescue them.

  The man crosses the room and replaces the phone onto its cradle. He’s very tall, with thinning brown hair. He also looks vaguely familiar. She tries to remember where she might have seen him but her brain refuses to cooperate.

  ‘Sit down.’ The man gestures at her and it’s only then that Ruth realises that he’s carrying a gun, a long one like a rifle.

  The dog has resumed its position in the doorway. Ruth sees Michelle looking at it, assessing her chances of escape. The man must have seen her too because he swings round.

  ‘Sit on the sofa,’ he says. ‘Both of you.’

  Ruth and Michelle sit on the sofa.

  Michelle says, ‘Where’s my husband? DCI Nelson?’

  My husband. Even here, even now, the words have the power to hurt Ruth.

  ‘He’s in the surgery,’ says the man.

  The surgery? What’s he talking about?

  ‘Is he OK?’ says Michelle. There’s a note of panic in her voice that Ruth recognises as echoed in her own when she says, ‘Why have you brought us here?’

  ‘DCI Nelson has to let Chloe go,’ says the man. ‘I thought, if anyone could make him, it would be you two. You’re his wife,’ he says to Michelle. ‘And you.’ He turns to Ruth. ‘Everyone knows about you and Nelson. Chloe saw you here together.’

  Ruth can feel Michelle staring at her. Once again, she’s amazed at the way she’s still able to feel everyday emotions. In this instance, shame and embarrassment. Don’t think about it, she tells herself. Concentrate on getting yourself out of this mess. Getting all three of them out of it: Ruth, Nelson and Michelle.

  Why is the man talking about Chloe? Then she gets it. Paul and Chloe Noakes, the children of the murdered parents.

  ‘It’s Paul, isn’t it?’ she says. ‘We met on the beach that day.’ Maybe if Paul remembers that he knows her, that she’s a real person with a life and people who love her, maybe then he’ll let her go. ‘I’m a friend of Cathbad’s,’ she says. ‘Do you know Cathbad?’

  ‘The druid?’ says Paul. Is it Ruth’s imagination or does he lower the gun a fraction?

  ‘That’s right,’ says Ruth. ‘His son’s a friend of my daughter. I’ve got a ten-year-old daughter. Kate.’ Her voice breaks when she says Kate’s name. Ruth has always thought that, if anything happened to her, Nelson and Michelle would look after Kate. But what if all three of them die here together, in an awful parody of their love triangle? Who will look after Ruth’s daughter? Cathbad and Judy? Her father and Gloria?

  Michelle’s voice cuts through Ruth’s thoughts.

  ‘Where’s Harry?’ she says. ‘Where’s DCI Nelson?’

  Michelle’s tone, or maybe her use of Nelson’s rank, makes the man raise his gun again.

  ‘He’s in the surgery,’ repeats the man, impatiently.

  Then Ruth hears something. A noise that’s almost a groan. The dog hears it too. He tilts his head, listening.

  ‘Is he in this house?’ says Michelle.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb you at home,’ says David.

  ‘You should be,’ says Cathbad. ‘This is an invasion of my wife’s privacy.’

  Judy has never heard Cathbad sound so angry. Also, she’s not his wife.

  ‘What do you want?’ she says.

  ‘I’m worried about Ruth,’ says David. ‘I went round to her cottage just now and she wasn’t home. I know she was planning to go straight home after work. Her daughter was at a sleepover.’

  It occurs to Judy that David knows rather a lot about Ruth’s movements.

  ‘She’s probably just out with a friend,’ says Judy. But even as she says this, she feels a twinge of unease. She and Cathbad are probably Ruth’s closest friends in Norfolk. If she’s not with them, where could she be, on a school night? With Shona possibly. But Judy thinks this is unlikely. Ruth and Shona don’t seem particularly close these days.

  ‘Do you have any idea where she could be?’ says David.

  Judy’s first thought is to ring the boss. Ruth often complains about Nelson wanting to know where she is and what she’s doing. ‘It’s like being electronically tagged,’ she says. But Judy knows that Kate, being a bright tech-savvy child, has linked her parents’ phones so Nelson can keep track of Ruth, if he so wishes. But Nelson hadn’t been answering his phone earlier. A thought occurs to her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she says to David. She goes back into the kitchen and picks up her work phone. If Nelson has kept his radio on, she will be able to track his GPS location. She clicks on ‘DCI Nelson’ and a pulsating red dot appears.

  ‘That’s strange,’ she says aloud.

  ‘What is?’ Cathbad appears in the doorway.

  ‘Nelson is at Black Dog Farm.’

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  ‘Is he here?’ repeats Michelle. ‘What have you done to him?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ says Paul. ‘I’ve patched him up. I know how to do first aid.’

  ‘You’ve patched him up?’ says Michelle. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He’ll be all right,’ says Paul. ‘The bullet didn’t hit any vital organs.’

  ‘The bullet?’ Michelle almost shrieks. ‘Did you shoot him?’

  Paul looks down at the gun almost as if he’s surprised to find himself holding it. Can Ruth charge at him while his attention is distracted? She moves, very slightly, tensing herself for action, but Paul notices. He points the gun at her. He looks like someone who’s used to handling a firearm.

  ‘Don’t move,’ he says.

  ‘I won’t,’ says Ruth. ‘But can we see Nelson? Please?’

  Paul looks at her. His face is perfectly pleasant. If Ruth saw this man in the street, she probably wouldn’t notice him but, if she did, she’d think him a reasonable, respectable member of society.

  ‘We might be able to help,’ says Michelle, also adopting a softer tone.

  ‘All right,’ says the man. ‘But don’t try and get away.’

  ‘We won’t,’ says Ruth. They stand up. Ruth has a ridiculous urge to hold Michelle’s hand.

  ‘This way.’ The man gestures at the door. ‘Heel, Dexter,’ he says to the dog. Dexter. Ruth stores the name away for future reference. Just like with the skeleton, having a name makes the creature seem more real. This is not a devil dog, she tells herself, it’s just a pet, man’s best friend. Good dog, Dexter, she says to herself, remembering the way Nelson had talked to the animal. Oh God, Nelson. Please don’t let him be badly hurt.

  Using his gun as a pointer, he directs them into a hall. Ruth has a vague impression of faded yellow wallpaper and of a grandfather clock ticking loudly. There’s an open door directly in front of them and the light coming from that room seems different, brighter and more ominous.

>   ‘In there,’ says Paul.

  Ruth knows at once that it’s the room that she was in earlier. And there is Nelson lying on a bed in front of her.

  Michelle gets to him first.

  ‘Harry,’ she says. ‘Harry. Are you OK?’

  He’s obviously not OK, thinks Ruth. Nelson is lying on his back with a professional-looking dressing around his shoulder. Blood is seeping through the bandage but what worries Ruth most is Nelson’s colour. He’s deathly pale and his hair is dark with sweat.

  Ruth comes nearer. Nelson opens his eyes. ‘Ruth?’

  ‘He’s delirious,’ says Michelle. She turns on Paul, who is standing against the door, which is now shut. The dog, Dexter, is at his side.

  ‘He needs help,’ she says. ‘He needs to go to hospital.’

  Ruth puts her hand on Nelson’s forehead. It’s hot and clammy at the same time. Michelle is right; he needs to be in hospital.

  ‘Please,’ she says to the man. ‘We need to call an ambulance.’

  ‘Not until you let Chloe go,’ he says.

  ‘Who’s Chloe?’ says Michelle.

  ‘Chloe’s my sister,’ says the man. ‘Nelson thinks she killed our parents. That’s why I had to do this. To make Nelson let her go.’

  ‘I’m sure this can be sorted out,’ says Michelle. Her voice is calm and reasonable, the sort of tone Ruth imagines her using to defuse family quarrels. ‘But we need to call an ambulance now.’

  ‘Please,’ says Ruth, hearing her voice shaking. ‘Nelson needs medical help quickly or he’ll die.’ She knows that she’s crying now.

  ‘Not yet,’ says the man. He looks towards the hall as if he hears something.

  ‘Look, Paul,’ says Michelle. ‘If you call an ambulance, everything will be OK. But if . . . if anything happens to Harry . . . to DCI Nelson . . . you’ll be in serious trouble . . . he’s a police officer.’

  In serious trouble. It doesn’t sound threatening enough. If anything happens to Nelson, Ruth will happily kill this Paul herself. But maybe Michelle is right to take a quieter approach.

  ‘Please,’ says Ruth. ‘Please, Paul.’

  In answer, the man turns and leaves the room. Locking the door behind him.

  Judy is driving towards Black Dog Farm, David Brown at her side. She’s not quite sure how this happened. One moment she was telling Cathbad that she wouldn’t be long, the next she was on the road with David giving her directions.

  ‘I know the way,’ she snaps.

  Why is he here?

  ‘It’s quicker by the A148,’ David says now.

  Judy ignores him.

  ‘Harry,’ says Michelle. ‘Harry. Can you hear me?’

  Nelson turns his head and mutters something. Ruth thinks it could be ‘police’. Is Nelson telling them to call for help or is he such a policeman that he’s still working even whilst in delirium?

  ‘The police are on their way,’ she says.

  Michelle gives her a look. They are standing either side of Nelson’s bed, something that – if Ruth had time to think about it – seems like a bad joke. Or a nightmare.

  ‘Do you really think they’re coming?’ says Michelle.

  ‘I don’t know,’ says Ruth. ‘I hope so. I mean, they can trace the call, can’t they?’

  ‘I don’t know how these things work,’ says Michelle. ‘I’m not in the police. I’m just married to one.’

  There’s a short silence. Nelson says something else, the words ending in a groan. Ruth looks around the room: desk, filing cabinet, sink, window covered by a pleated blind. This must be the room that Nelson mentioned the last time they visited the house. There’s a room in this house that’s all done up like a doctor’s surgery. Creepiest thing you’ve ever seen. Now the place looks as if it’s been the scene of a fight, or some other altercation. The metal cabinet is dented and there are papers scattered on the floor. Stranger still, she can see the markers that are used in scene-of-crime investigations. Plastic cones with numbers on them. One on the floor by the desk, another by the door. Well, there’s no time to solve that riddle now. Ruth goes to the sink and pours some water into a paper cup. She holds it to Nelson’s lips, but he moves his head away, muttering again.

  ‘Do you think the bullet’s still in him?’ whispers Michelle.

  ‘I don’t know,’ says Ruth. An image comes to her of a man being forced to drink brandy before a bullet is cut out of him. She sees snow, black top boots, shirt ruffles red with blood, a coach and four. Then she realises that she’s thinking about a Georgette Heyer novel. She has no idea what to do for someone who has been shot. Not in the twenty-first century. Not in the real world.

  She goes to the door and bangs on it.

  ‘Let us out!’

  ‘Let’s try to break it down,’ says Michelle.

  Ruth remembers Nelson shoulder barging the door of the barn. It didn’t look too difficult then. ‘Let’s do it on three,’ she says to Michelle. ‘One, two, three.’ Together, they charge. Ruth is quite dazed by the impact, but the door doesn’t budge. Michelle runs at it again, making a noise like an enraged animal. She’s far stronger than she looks. But the door remains locked.

  They both look back at Nelson. He seems paler than ever with dark shadows under his eyes. Ruth notices, as she has noticed before, how long Nelson’s eyelashes are when his eyes are shut.

  ‘Is he going to die?’ says Michelle. It feels almost like the first real thing Michelle has ever said to Ruth, her voice empty of anything except love and fear.

  ‘No,’ says Ruth, knowing that she must stay positive for all their sakes. ‘The police will come. And the bullet’s just in his shoulder. Paul said that it hadn’t hit any vital organs.’

  She has no idea why either of them should believe Paul but saying it makes her feel slightly better.

  ‘What shall we do?’ says Michelle. Up until now, she has been amazingly strong. She was the one who distracted the dog so Ruth could make the phone call. She faced up to Paul, even though he had a gun in his hand, and then she tried to calm him down, using the power of all her years as a mother. But now she is trembling, and tears are running down her face.

  Ruth puts her arms round Michelle. ‘It’ll be OK,’ she says.

  Some instinct makes Judy park at the end of the drive. As she and David hurry along the gravel path, Judy sees the boss’s car. When she gets nearer, she sees Ruth’s car parked next to it. Judy feels awkward all of a sudden. Is this a lovers’ tryst? Will she walk in on Ruth and Nelson together, something she has always dreaded? But then she spots another car, a smart silver Mazda. Judy can’t be sure, but she thinks this belongs to Michelle. Judy goes closer. Yes, there’s a Redwings sticker in the back. Like Ruth – and Judy herself – Michelle is a big supporter of the local horse charity. But why would Ruth, Nelson and Michelle all be here?

  ‘There’s a van parked in the barn,’ says David, who has been wandering around the yard.

  Judy feels another twinge of fear. ‘Stay back,’ she says to David. And she walks towards the house. The front door is open but, somehow, that feels even more sinister. A security light comes on as she approaches and she remembers the first time she saw Black Dog Farm, the dark figures of the armed officers suddenly illuminated by the glare. Police! If you’re in there, come out now and no one will get hurt. Should she be shouting something similar now? Or should she wait for back-up? But, then again, maybe Ruth, Nelson and Michelle are just sitting down to a cosy chat about their three-cornered love affair.

  As she hesitates, she hears a shot coming from the house.

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  Ruth and Michelle hear it too. They look at each other and Ruth sees her own terror reflected in Michelle’s wide blue eyes.

  ‘What was that?’ says Ruth.

  ‘It sounded like a gunshot.’

  Has Paul shot someone? Has he ki
lled himself? Murdered the dog? But before any more thoughts can chase themselves round Ruth’s head, the door opens and Paul stands there, still holding the gun. The dog is at his side.

  Instinctively, Ruth and Michelle move to stand in front of the injured Nelson. Shielding him.

  ‘We heard a shot,’ says Ruth.

  ‘Oh that,’ says Paul. ‘I was just shooting at a rabbit. My dad used to be able to kill a rabbit from a hundred yards away.’

  That’s a strange thing to be proud of, in Ruth’s opinion. She knows that country people often see rabbits as pests, but she can’t help thinking of Kate’s Sylvanian Cottontail bunnies. She wonders if Paul is losing track of reality. If so, can they use it to their advantage?

  ‘Paul,’ she says. ‘We need to get an ambulance. Nelson is really ill.’

  Paul comes towards the bed. Michelle moves infinitesimally closer to Ruth. Close enough for Ruth to smell her perfume, a scent she has often detected on Nelson. Michelle’s hand brushes against hers.

  ‘Move away.’ Paul gestures with the gun.

  ‘No,’ says Michelle.

  ‘I didn’t mean to hurt him,’ says Paul. ‘I just needed to get you all here. Nelson must let Chloe go. She didn’t kill them.’

  ‘I’m sure everything can be sorted out,’ says Ruth, in her most soothing voice, the one she uses for stressed undergraduates. Of course you can have an extension on your essay. Of course your sister won’t be charged with murder.

  Paul seems to hesitate. He lowers the gun. At that moment there’s a sound from upstairs. A sort of clunk. The dog raises its head and lets out a short, staccato bark. Ruth touches Michelle’s hand and dives for the door.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ says David. ‘It sounded like a gun.’

  No shit, Sherlock, thinks Judy.

  ‘We need to stay here,’ she says. ‘I’ve called for back-up.’ The reckless spirit that is inside her – invisible to everyone except Cathbad – longs to enter the house but she knows that to go in, alone and unarmed, would be madness.