Ask No Questions

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Ask No Questions Page 7

by Hartley, Lisa


  This time, though, she was leaving nothing to chance.

  10

  The coffee shop was already open as they approached the door a few minutes after seven thirty the next morning. The place was handily situated opposite the building where Ronnie Morgan lived, and Caelan knew that lingering over an early breakfast would give them plenty of time to wait for him to appear. The timetable she had been provided with informed her that Ronnie’s classes started at nine, but since his flat was only a few minutes’ walk from the university buildings, she wasn’t expecting him to emerge for some time. As there was no guarantee he had slept at home, she had wanted to be outside his address as early as possible. Even so, they’d been in the area for only half an hour. Wandering around empty streets well before anyone else was up and about might have drawn attention to them. The coffee shop was a bonus, one they hadn’t been informed of. Caelan had been fully prepared to wait on the street.

  Caelan led Ewan to a table towards the back of the shop that afforded a clear view of the door to Ronnie Morgan’s building without them being too visible to passers-by. The place was small, pine tables and chairs jostling for space on wooden floorboards. For now, they were the only customers. Behind the counter, a middle-aged woman and a younger man yawned their way through preparing for the day. Caelan picked up the menu from the table, and studied it. She wasn’t hungry, but she knew she should eat while there was an opportunity. After a long, cold night on the dining chair watching the window of the house opposite, coffee was required. Her caution had likely been unnecessary, but she knew she wouldn’t have slept if she had gone to bed.

  ‘Full English for me,’ Ewan smiled.

  ‘Have a bacon baguette,’ Caelan told him. ‘If we need to leave, you can take it with you. I’ll have one too.’

  Ewan nodded his understanding. ‘I’ll go and order.’

  As he stood, Caelan allowed her gaze to drift back to the double glass doors of Ronnie Morgan’s building. There were shops on the ground floor, then four floors of university- owned apartments above. Ronnie’s studio was at the top. He rented a room with a private kitchen area, as well as a bedroom and shower room. Extra facilities would mean extra costs, and Caelan wondered how he afforded them. They knew he didn’t have a part-time job like many of his fellow students to make ends meet. She made a mental note to ask Nasenby if Ronnie’s finances had been examined. Probably not at this stage. He wasn’t suspected of any crime, and there would be no grounds for it.

  Ewan returned to the table, bearing two white mugs. Caelan thanked him as the welcome aroma of strong coffee reached her.

  ‘Bacon butties on their way,’ Ewan said. He drank from his cup and set it on the table. Caelan nodded, her eyes still on the doors of the building opposite. There was movement behind the smeared glass and she reached for her coffee as she waited to see who would emerge. As she watched, the door opened and a blonde-haired girl emerged, rubbing bleary eyes. Her padded jacket hung open, revealing a McDonald’s uniform. She checked her watch, then allowed the door to swing closed behind her as she strode away.

  ‘There’s an intercom entry system for visitors, but I’m sure if you pressed enough buttons, someone would buzz you in without asking too many questions,’ Caelan said, her voice quiet enough that Ewan had to lean closer to hear.

  ‘You think we might need to get into Morgan’s room?’ Ewan didn’t look thrilled at the prospect. Caelan shrugged.

  ‘Hopefully not. Being arrested for burglary wouldn’t be a great idea.’

  ‘True. Might blow our cover.’ Ewan nodded. Caelan smiled, amused by his choice of words.

  ‘There shouldn’t be any need. If we do our jobs properly, he won’t even know we’ve been here.’

  The bell above the café door jangled as a group of workmen clumped inside. Wearing fluorescent clothes and muddy boots, they looked like builders or road workers. As they gathered around the counter, laughing and jostling, Caelan caught Ewan’s eye. He needed to remember who they were supposed to be. When the café had been empty of customers, Caelan hadn’t minded relaxing their guard a little, but now, with others around, it was imperative to be on their guard. Ewan grinned, and Caelan knew he had realised what she was trying to communicate. Time to put on the mask.

  Recruiting Ewan had been impulsive, many would say foolish. Nasenby certainly would, and no doubt Ian Penrith was broadcasting his complaints about Caelan’s involvement to anyone who would listen. Caelan knew Nasenby would continue to defend her, but for how long? What Penrith had said about Lambourne’s escape and her own possible involvement in it was nonsense, but there were plenty of people looking for someone to blame. Charlie Flynn’s family, the press, the public. There were blogs and comments on social media questioning what had happened, how Lambourne had been allowed to escape. Theories had been publicised, discussed. Caelan and her colleagues had never been mentioned by name, because no one outside of their own unit had known they were involved. Caelan didn’t understand how, but Sam had been identified at once, and thrown to the wolves. That didn’t mean people hadn’t tried to find out who else was to blame. The operation had been secret, the culmination of months of surveillance on Lambourne. He had been suspected of various serious crimes, but never kidnapping. Not until Charlie Flynn went missing and the police came to believe Lambourne was involved. Then all bets were off. The softly-softly approach was useless with a child’s life at stake.

  But it had been futile.

  Lambourne must have heard their approach, their footsteps. They had been expecting an empty house, not a bloodbath. Caelan remembered the smell of it, the smears of blood on her face, her clothes. Nicky’s blood. She hadn’t seen Charlie, not clearly. Sam had thrown himself down beside the boy, but it was too late. The hope they had felt, the anticipation that they were here to save him, to rescue his young life, died in their chests as they saw his body. Then Lambourne lurched out of the darkness, knife held high, and in a second Nicky was down. Caelan watched the scene again, as she had thousands of times since it had happened. Every movement a blur, events unfolding so quickly it was impossible to remember the facts. All she knew was that Nicky had died, slumped face down, her eyes instantly losing their light. Caelan had fallen to her knees, bellowing desperately into her radio, knowing it was already too late. Nicky’s life had puddled on the floor before the first back-up arrived. Caelan was still kneeling there as they thundered into the room, and persuaded her gently away from the body. Sam was beside her, his face white, the horror Caelan would carry every day reflected in his eyes.

  They were to blame, and they knew it. They were following orders, had done as they were told, but two deaths was a burden impossible to carry. Sam had struggled, floundered, and Caelan knew she was doing the same. Now she had to stand up, to square her shoulders and fight. Lambourne was out there, and she would find him.

  She should have shot him while she had the chance, and fuck the consequences.

  Caelan blinked, her gaze still fixed on the entrance to Ronnie Morgan’s building. She would find Lambourne, and he would pay.

  ‘Karen?’ Ewan was speaking to her, his face concerned. Caelan looked at him, smiled.

  ‘Sorry, love. Miles away.’

  Ewan raised his eyebrows a fraction as their food arrived. Setting the plates down on the table, the waiter blocked Caelan’s view of the door for a second. They thanked him, the smell of the bacon and freshly baked baguettes igniting Caelan’s appetite. She picked up the tomato ketchup from the table and squeezed a generous amount over the bacon. As she did so, the door opened again and another customer entered the café. Caelan watched, still chewing.

  It was Ronnie Morgan. He stood behind the gaggle of workmen, who were still placing their orders. Caelan watched as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, wondering again about his income. How many students could afford breakfast in a café? It wasn’t an expensive place, granted, but it wasn’t the cheapest either. Morgan had probably chosen it for convenience, since it was on h
is doorstep. Caelan swallowed her mouthful of food, glancing at Ewan. Had he realised that Morgan was here? Under the table, she moved her foot to nudge his. He kept chewing, but his eyes met hers, letting her know he had seen their quarry too.

  Caelan took another bite as Morgan shuffled closer to the front of the queue. She didn’t want to rush her food. If Morgan was going to sit down to eat, they’d need to make their own breakfasts last so they could follow when he left. If he was going to place a takeaway order, however, they’d need to be quick.

  Morgan spoke to the woman behind the counter and handed over his money. She was laughing as she turned to the till, Morgan grinning. He stepped away from the counter and made his way to a table, choosing one close to Caelan and Ewan. He didn’t look at them as he sat, concentrating on his phone again. Caelan continued to eat, wishing she could see what he was studying so intently. When she spoke to Nasenby again, she would ask about access to Morgan’s mobile phone records. It seemed unlikely that Lambourne would contact his son through his regular number, but if he were desperate, he might take the chance. Nasenby and his colleagues believed Lambourne and Ronnie to be estranged, but Caelan knew better than to make assumptions, however reliable the intelligence purported to be. She didn’t trust the information she had been given.

  Not any more.

  * * *

  Ronnie drained his coffee, set the cup on the table. Time to go. Having checked the opening hours of the ticket office on his phone, he knew he would have time to spare before his seminar began. As he got to his feet, he saw the queue, now six people deep, and picked up his mug and plate. He returned them to the counter, earning a quick smile of gratitude from Sue who owned the place.

  Threading his way through the crowd, he pushed open the door. Outside, the first drops of rain falling from the bulk of a black cloud overhead, he glanced at his building. It was only one night. He already had his rucksack on his shoulder, filled with textbooks, notepads and his laptop. He could shove boxers, socks and a T-shirt in the front pocket, save himself the hassle of coming back here, catch an earlier train. Why not?

  Decision made, he hurried across and let himself into the building, unaware of the eyes monitoring his every move.

  * * *

  ‘Why would he go back inside?’ Ewan spoke softly, though there was no one nearby.

  ‘Forgotten something? I don’t know.’ Caelan had turned away, knowing Ewan was watching the door. Her eyes scanned the street. It was still too early for shoppers, and the few people wandering by wouldn’t provide much cover. Every second they stood here made them more conspicuous. They were outside a department store, its windows illuminated, mannequins staring glumly at them. Ewan checked his watch.

  ‘If Ronnie’s class doesn’t start until nine, he could be inside for close to an hour,’ he pointed out. ‘The university building’s only a two-minute walk away.’

  Caelan turned, her gaze fixed on a shadow, a man in a dark overcoat who was crossing the road thirty metres or so away. There was a pedestrian crossing, but he’d ignored it. He had a dark beard, his eyes lost behind his glasses, a smart leather briefcase in one hand, cup of takeaway coffee in the other. A gaggle of people thronged the pavement opposite, and he sidestepped them, disappearing into the supermarket that stood on the corner of the street. She frowned, then shook her head, dismissing him.

  ‘What do we do?’ Ewan asked.

  Caelan raised a hand, gesturing towards the window display. ‘Admire this for another couple of minutes.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘We split up.’

  She saw panic freeze his face. ‘Split up? But …’

  ‘You walk around the block, find a cashpoint, whatever. I’ll go to the supermarket. I’ll be able to watch from there.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘We’ll have our phones if absolutely necessary, but we’ll have to be discreet, stay in character.’ A woman was approaching, and Caelan gripped Ewan’s arm. As she passed, Caelan said, ‘The door to his building’s opening again. Don’t look, don’t turn around.’

  Ewan bent closer to the window. ‘I do like that jacket.’

  ‘It’s him. He’s turned right, away from the university. Let’s go. We’ll stay on this side of the road for now.’ She took Ewan’s hand as they began to walk. Across the road, Ronnie Morgan sauntered along, not looking back.

  ‘Wonder where he’s going,’ Ewan said.

  ‘To meet a mate, a girlfriend? Not the library, that’s the other direction too.’

  ‘It’d be closed anyway.’

  Caelan shook her head. ‘It’s open twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Really? Why? Who’s going to want to study at two o’clock in the morning?’

  ‘Someone who’s left their assignment until the last minute?’

  Ewan laughed. ‘I’m guessing you used to?’

  ‘Every time.’ Caelan smiled to herself, remembering. It was true.

  As Ronnie disappeared around the corner, they crossed the road.

  ‘He’s heading towards the main shopping area,’ Caelan said. ‘Brayford Wharf’s down there.’ She pointed. ‘There are bars, restaurants, even a cinema I think. Perfect location for a university, and for students to live.’

  ‘If you have the money to go to those places.’

  ‘And Ronnie certainly seems to have.’

  They were on the high street now, lined with shops and businesses, a few cars meandering past. Ronnie wandered along, clearly not in a hurry. Soon they neared the railway line that sliced through Lincoln’s city centre. It was still quiet, but soon the area would be busy with students, workers, shoppers. The city would wake. Ronnie hesitated, checking right and left, then jogged across the road, slipping through the traffic with ease. Caelan frowned, concerned.

  ‘We’d better cross.’

  They did so, Ronnie not far in front now. They stepped over the railway lines, hurrying past a church, incongruous here, situated beside a busy crossroads and the railway line. It was their first glimpse of historic Lincoln, but they had no time to appreciate it. Ronnie had disappeared in the shadow of the church, and around the corner. The shopping area of the city stretched in front of them, but he had ignored it.

  ‘He definitely went round the corner, didn’t he?’ Caelan knew the answer but wanted confirmation. Ronnie heading for the shops would have made sense, even this early. His turning right didn’t.

  ‘What’s round there?’

  ‘As I remember, the railway station.’

  Ewan tightened his grip on her hand for a second. ‘You think he’s going to catch a train? Where would that leave us?’

  ‘A few seats behind him.’ Caelan increased her pace.

  ‘You mean we’d get on too?’

  ‘Wouldn’t be doing a good job of following him if we didn’t, would we? He could be going to meet his dad.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Ronnie was ambling across the station car park now, heading for the entrance.

  ‘Maybe he’s meeting someone off a train,’ Ewan suggested.

  ‘Could be. Let’s hope it’s Lambourne.’

  When they entered the station, however, Ronnie was queuing for a ticket. Glancing up at the monitor displaying the trains soon departing, Caelan thought quickly. This was unprecedented. The first day of their surveillance and their subject was forcing them to change their plans. She hesitated. Was it a trap? It was a hell of a coincidence. She pushed the thought away, knowing she had no choice but to follow.

  ‘We need to know where he’s going.’

  They joined the queue, a young woman and an elderly man between them and Ronnie. Caelan had plenty of cash as well as Karen Devlin’s credit card in her bag, but this was unexpected. Again she wished she could have seen what Ronnie had been studying on his phone so intently earlier. He was now at the head of the queue, and, concerned that they wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying, Caelan slipped closer, taking a t
imetable from a plastic holder bolted to the wall to disguise her action. As she flicked through it, Ronnie asked for a return ticket to King’s Cross. Shit. She hadn’t imagined they would be back in the capital so soon. She beckoned to Ewan and they went outside.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘He’s going to London. So much for the committed student I was told about. He hasn’t missed a class yet this year, but here he is jumping on a train even though he has a full day of lectures.’

  ‘You think it’s suggestive?’

  She lifted her shoulders, let them fall.

  ‘I doubt he’d miss his classes for something trivial.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘The train’s due to leave in seven minutes. I’m going to be on it.’

  ‘You? What about me?’

  ‘We don’t know how long he’s going to be in London. I need you to go back to the house. Collect our stuff, then drive down to meet me. I’ll keep in touch.’

  She could see he was disappointed, but there was no time to worry about it. She pulled the car keys out of her bag and handed them to him.

  ‘I’ll see you soon then.’ Ewan blinked.

  She stepped forward and kissed his cheek.

  ‘Drive carefully,’ she told him. Without looking back, she strode into the station.

  The cost of the ticket seemed astronomical to Caelan, and she was grateful for the credit card.

  ‘Change at Newark,’ the man behind the counter told her. She thanked him and hurried to find her platform. She saw Ronnie Morgan waiting by a vending machine, and moved to stand behind a middle-aged couple, as close to him as she dared. Ronnie’s hands were in his pockets, headphones on, gazing down the track as if urging the train to appear. He had no suitcase and Caelan would have been willing to bet his journey was unplanned and unexpected. She would have to let Nasenby know what was happening. Not yet, though. Not here.

  When the train arrived, wheezing and rattling its way to a halt, Ronnie was one of the first to board. Caelan made sure she noted where he sat. There were only two carriages, the seats battered and frayed, and she knew it would be easy to watch him. He showed no sign of having noticed her, hadn’t even glanced in her direction. So far, so good.

 

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