When she returned to the back of the Hall, she turned on her phone. She had missed numerous calls and it immediately started ringing. There was also a text from Mrs Normal: ‘Do NOT go 2 Favon Hall.’ Too late for that. She put the device on the floor as if she’d lost it and went upstairs. The entrance hall was full of people, including several ARU men; Pete Rokeby, who gave her a huge smile; and Heck Rutherford, who ran towards her with surprising speed and grabbed her in a tight hug.
150
Heck set about organising a search for the people Joni told him about. Because there may have been other armed men around – Albanians, Dan Reston, friends of General Etherington – the ARU took the lead. They found Cheryl Reston in the small bathroom on the top floor of the tower and Oliver Forrest in the room below. The former had lost a lot of blood, but was stabilised by paramedics, while the latter was still jittery from the touch of the cattle prod.
‘What the hell happened, Ollie?’ Heck asked.
‘You won’t believe me when I tell you.’ The farmer described his experiences in the darkened room – the woman who covered him, as he put it, the way she stood on her head afterwards; the bastard in the balaclava who had cuffed him to the bed and jabbed him with the prod; the crazy-eyed girl who had used it on him before he was rescued
‘You know who the woman was?’
Ollie Forrest looked at the Hall and the grounds. ‘Lady Vicky, eh?’
‘Looks like it. Apparently she was desperate for a kid.’
The farmer laughed. ‘Well, she won’t have got any little swimmers from me. Lizzie made me have a vasectomy a couple of years back.’
Heck sent him to the paramedics for a check-up, then allowed him home. He’d ask him what he was doing on his quad bike on Lord Favon’s side of the moor, and why Suzana laid into him, another day.
His radio crackled. ‘CI Bonnett here. We’ve surrounded the Dower House. I’m watching Dan Reston through the window. You’d better get down here.’
Pancake Rokeby was sitting outside the entrance to the Hall with Joni Pax. Heck waved to them. Seconds later they were in the Land Rover, Joni driving it deftly down an unmetalled road. The ARU van was blocking it, about fifty yards from the old building. An armed operative guided them to the team commander’s location.
‘Take a look,’ Bonnett said, handing Heck his binoculars.
The image was blurred and Heck rolled his finger over the focus wheel. ‘Jesus!’ he said. ‘Has he had a bath in blood? Are those bodies he’s got his arms round?’
‘Dobermans, as far as I can tell,’ the CI said. ‘He’s crying.’
‘Wonder what happened to them,’ Pete said.
‘The general shot them this morning,’ Joni said. She’d been speaking to Evie Favon. ‘Apparently they were about to rip his throat out.’
‘Gary Frizzell,’ Heck said.
Joni nodded. ‘I think Lady Favon got the Albanians to bring him out here.’
‘Maybe he was in the tower before Ollie.’ Heck told them what the farmer had said. ‘We’ll need to question Reston and his wife – if she survives – to find out what happened.’
‘Another victim of Suzana Noli,’ Pete said.
Heck looked at Joni. ‘You reckon?’
She raised her shoulders. ‘No more than she deserved since she and her husband locked Suzana up.’
Heck and Rokeby exchanged glances.
‘The helicopter’s trying to locate her, you know,’ Heck said.
Joni took the binoculars from him. ‘It’ll be dark soon.’
Shortly afterwards, the ACU went in. Dan Reston hardy registered their arrival. He struggled briefly when he was separated from the dogs, then allowed himself to be taken outside.
‘You killed Nick Etherington,’ Joni said, leaning towards him.
Reston’s eyes were wide and bloodshot. He looked as if he was many galaxies away.
It didn’t take them long to find the evidence. A six-inch-wide stone in a plastic bag had been stuffed behind cans of food on a shelf in the filthy kitchen. There was blood on it, and visible fingerprints. Pete Rokeby opened the fridge.
‘Fuck!’ he said, swerving away.
Heck and Joni took deep breaths and opened the door wider.
The head, on its side, and hands were on a platter on the top shelf. Despite the loose skin and agonised expression, there was no doubt that the head, at least, belonged to Gary Frizzell. Fingerprints would show whether the hands did too.
‘Whose else would they be?’ Pete asked, his face pale.
‘In this hellhole, anything’s possible,’ Heck said. ‘Right, out. The SOCOs are in charge here now.’
It was almost full dark by the time they got back to the Hall. A powder blue Mercedes was parked as near the steps as the driver could get. Heck and Joni went into the drawing room. A uniformed WPC was at the door.
‘Ah, DCI Rutherford,’ said the tall man sitting next to Lady Favon. His hair swept back from his patrician features in blonde waves.
‘Mr Lennox,’ Heck replied. ‘Not a surprise to see you.’
‘Ha! I take it this is the famous DI Pax.’ He stood up and ran an appraising eye over Joni. She ignored the hand he extended.
‘Terrible day,’ the lawyer said, resuming his seat. ‘By the way, I’m representing Neritan Dibra, the man who was hit on the head at your house. I do hope he isn’t seriously injured.’
Heck took a deep breath. When he spoke, his voice was low and controlled. ‘They came into my house, him and that birdbrain Ian Sacker. You represented his brother. This is personal now. My wife and kids, let alone my old man, aren’t targets for your fucking clients, you…’
‘That’ll do, Detective Chief Inspector.’
All eyes turned to ACC Dickie. She was wearing full dress uniform, braided hat under her arm. She regarded Richard Lennox with undisguised disdain.
‘I understand Lady Favon is an important client, but you might need to revise your priorities.’
‘Why would I do that?’ the lawyer asked, with a wide smile.
‘Because DCI Lee Young is currently being questioned by officers from Professional Standards. He’s being extremely cooperative.’
Richard Lennox’s smile disappeared. He leaned over to Victoria Favon and whispered to her, before getting up and leaving.
Mrs Normal beckoned to Heck and Joni to follow her. They went into a huddle in the entrance hall.
‘I gather Michael Etherington has been killed,’ the ACC said.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ replied Joni. ‘He shot the Albanian assassin then was hit himself. Suzana Noli told me the man was a Popi. He was going to kill Lady Favon.’
‘Interesting. The Albanian connection is going to take a lot of working out.’ She gave a fleeting smile. ‘But Lee Young’s spilling his guts, as I believe the Americans say.’
Heck was impressed, Joni less so.
‘We should have searched these premises and the estate days ago, ma’am.’ There was little respect in her tone.
‘That’s as may be, DI Pax. I appreciate your work today and I understand your mother was injured, but you acted irresponsibly by coming here on your own and out of contact. Plus, you let the Albanian girl go.’
‘Excuse me, ma’am,’ Heck said. ‘That isn’t the case. I saw Suzana…’
‘Noli,’ Joni supplied.
‘Aye, her … I was at a back window down the corridor and I saw her run like a hare into the woods behind the kitchen garden. Joni … DI Pax made a valiant effort to catch up with her, but she couldn’t manage it. Once the Albanian was in the trees, there was nothing she could do.’
Ruth Dickie gave him a searching look. ‘Very well. I’ll expect to read that in both your reports. DI Pax, you should go and check on your mother.’ She turned on her heel and went back into the drawing room.
‘Thanks,’ Joni said. ‘Did you really see me?’
Heck grinned. ‘Oh aye. Pancake did too.’
Joni shook her head and smiled. If she hadn�
��t been so tired, she’d have danced the tango with her boss over the black-and-white tiles. Then she remembered Rosie Etherington. She had volunteered to tell her about the general’s death. The prospect was as attractive as an evening walk through Ironflatts.
151
Joni met Eileen Andrews at the edge of the Etheringtons’ village.
‘Glad to see you’re in one piece, ma’am,’ the DC said, getting out of her Escort.
‘Call me Joni when there’s no one else around, Eileen. Under the surface I’m a wreck. I hope I can get through this.’
‘I heard your mother was hurt.’
‘She’s had surgery and is all right. It’s touch and go with Morrie Simmons, though.’
Eileen nodded, but was discreet enough not to ask what the head of the Corham MCU had been doing at Joni’s mother’s place.
‘You know the gist of what happened?’
‘Yes, m’a— Joni. I spoke to Pancake. Pete.’
‘I’m going to call him Pancake like everyone else. He doesn’t seem to mind.’
‘He’s a good lad. Shall we get this over with? I’ll drive you down to the house.’
Joni went along with that. When they arrived, she looked at herself in the mirror. ‘Shit. Have you got a tissue?’ Her face was dirty and her hair all over the place.
‘Have a comb too.’
When Joni was ready, they headed for the door. There was only a single light on, in the kitchen. The light above the door came on before it was opened.
‘DI Pax,’ Rosie Etherington said. ‘And DS…’
‘Andrews,’ Eileen said, with a soft smile. ‘Can we come in?’ She pushed Joni gently forwards.
‘Have you got any news?’ Rosie asked, running an unsteady hand over her hair. In the days since Nick’s death, she had suffered a rapid decline. Her clothes were crumpled and deep lines had appeared on her face.
‘Shall we go into the kitchen?’ Eileen said.
The other two women followed her, walking slowly.
‘What is it?’ Rosie asked, when they were on opposite sides of the table. There was a half-eaten biscuit on the tabletop, no crockery in sight. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Joni said.
‘Just tell me!’
‘Major General Etherington is dead.’ Joni told the story, leaving nothing that was relevant out. Rosie listened intently, her breathing uneven. When Joni finished, she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her brown jumper.
‘I don’t … I can’t take this in,’ she said, her lips trembling. ‘Victoria Favon got her factor to run Nick off the road and he took a rock to him because he was jealous?’
‘Nick rejected her; he wanted Evie. And Reston was jealous of Lady Favon’s lovers.’
‘But that … that’s ridiculous. You don’t … you don’t do something like that because you were … rejected…’
Joni stretched across the table and put her hand on Rosie’s. ‘Also, Nick saw Lord Favon coming out of the brothel on Burwell Street last Sunday night.’
‘You mean … you mean Andrew was involved too? But we … we know them socially. Michael…’ The words were overtaken by a rush of sobs.
Eileen sat by Rosie, passing her tissues.
‘Poor Michael,’ the bereaved woman said. ‘He knew … those horrible Favons were involved in Nick’s death. I wish he’d killed them.’
Joni was struck by the irony. Michael Etherington had given his life to save the woman who had brought about his grandson’s death.
‘I’ll stay overnight, ma’am,’ Eileen said, putting her arm round Rosie’s collapsed shoulders.
Joni mouthed her thanks and went quietly out. On the way back to the Land Rover, she tried to get her thoughts in order. It was pointless. Her mind was a maelstrom. Then she remembered Suzana’s face before she turned away in the wood. The girl was exhilarated by her freedom. That was something to hold on to.
152
‘How’s Joni?’ Ag was at the wheel. They were on the way to her sister’s in Bardon Mill, the Cherokee packed with clothes and other gear. The house was full of SOCOs, drafted in from Newcastle, and the damage to the windows and doors meant it would need work before they could go back. The kids and David were in a squad car behind them.
‘I called her before we left. She sounded knackered, which is hardly a surprise. Moonbeam’s OK, but they’re keeping her in for a few days. She’s had an operation on her shoulder.’
Ag laughed. ‘I still can’t believe someone would choose that ridiculous name.’ She glanced at Heck. ‘What on earth was Morrie Simmons doing at her place?’
‘Shagging her, apparently.’
‘Lovely, Heck Rutherford. But you don’t sound very convinced.’
‘I don’t know. There’s something strange about the whole thing. According to Joni, Michael Etherington knew that Andrew Favon was being blackmailed.’
‘And you think it was Morrie?’
‘There isn’t going to be any evidence, especially if Morrie doesn’t make it. He’s still in surgery.’
‘I never liked the man, but he seems to have acted pretty heroically.’
‘As did Joni, more than once.’
‘She’s a remarkable woman.’
Heck put his hand on her thigh. ‘So are you. I’ll never forget the hit you landed on that scumbag’s helmet.’
‘Lioness defending her kin. You’re no slouch yourself, mind. You were in full command while the shots were flying. I was impressed. How’s your gut? That was a heavy blow you took.’
‘Weirdly, it feels better.’
‘Away with you.’ She put her hand on his. ‘Though if that’s really the case, the night is ours.’
‘You fancy messing about?’
She laughed. ‘You take your time, but you get there in the end.’
‘Uh-huh. Given your sister’s married to a vicar, you’d better keep the lead vocals down.’
Ag stopped her elbow just before it made contact with Heck’s lower abdomen.
153
The morning briefing, Tuesday, 14 May.
Heck Rutherford was at the front as usual, with ACC Ruth Dickie at the back, looking mildly pleased with herself.
‘DI Pax?’
‘Thanks, sir. We’ve still got a way to go with the details of the Etherington-Favon-Albanian clan case, but here’s where we stand now. Suzana Noli. There have been no sightings of her since Sunday. Her description has been passed to all neighbouring forces north and south of the border.’
‘I don’t suppose she could have doubled back,’ Nathan Gray said. With Morrie Simmons still in intensive care, he was acting chief of Corham MCU.
‘If she has, you’d better make sure she doesn’t slip through your fingers, DS Gray,’ Mrs Normal said. ‘That wouldn’t look good at all.’
Heck suppressed a smile. He knew the ACC was actively looking for a replacement for Morrie. If he recovered, his career was in jeopardy because of the suspicion he’d been blackmailing the Favons.
‘Lord Favon has been released from Corham General,’ Joni continued, ‘and is being held in the cells here. Along with his wife, he’s been charged with kidnapping and false imprisonment – their fingerprints are all over the beds in the old tower – as well as aiding and abetting a murderer. On advice from Richard Lennox, neither is talking. Lady Favon claims that everything she said when Michael Etherington was holding a gun on her was a lie. However, her daughter Evie is keen to testify on that and other matters.’
‘We won’t need her,’ Heck said. ‘We’ve got enough evidence to send Lord and Lady F down for years. And that’s before the fraud squad has crawled all over their business interests. They’ve developed close ties to companies potentially linked to the Spahia clan.’
‘As for Dan Reston,’ Joni said, ‘his prints were found on the stone that was used to kill Nick Etherington. A pair of Adipower Howard baseball boots whose soles match the prints found in the proximity of Nick’s body was found in his house.’
‘Has he started talking yet?’ Ruth Dickie asked.
‘No, ma’am. He’s still in the psychiatric ward. The doctor in charge told me that he’s suffered a major psychotic breakdown and it may take months, or even years, to bring him back to reality.’
‘What about his wife?’ Eileen Andrews asked.
‘Cheryl’s at the opposite end of the spectrum. She shouts and swears at anyone who comes near her and has refused representation. The wound in her neck wasn’t as deep as it initially looked. Her prints have been found in the tower and on Greg Frizzell’s head and hands. She’s been charged with false imprisonment, and aiding and abetting his murder. More charges, some of them pretty nasty, will follow.’
Heck put a hand on Joni’s arm. ‘Ollie Forrest told me the person who cuffed him and brought him food and clothes always wore a black balaclava. I reckon Dan and Cheryl Reston took turns to play warder and use the cattle prod. Ollie also said it was Dan Reston who clobbered him up on the moor.’
‘Delightful people,’ Pete Rokeby muttered.
‘You have several other men to account for, DI Pax,’ said the ACC.
‘Yes, ma’am. Marcus Ainsworth, who tried to kill me in my mother’s cottage, was, as you know, the man who attacked me in London. There’s no way we can link him to the Spahia clan unless he talks – and he may not even know the clan name – but it’s a reasonable assumption that they hired him.’
‘You and DI Simmons dealt with him effectively enough. The Albanians obviously didn’t trust him since they had backup on the scene.’
Joni nodded. ‘My research showed that outside contractors are often used, as I told you. They are often killed to silence them. As for Ian Sacker, I think he’s DCI Rutherford’s special subject.’
Heck smiled grimly. ‘Some of you’ll remember a sick gangster called Ned Sacker. I put him away for a long stretch when I was in Newcastle. His brother Not So Lucky thought he’d have a go.’
‘He really was not so lucky,’ Nathan Gray said, grinning.
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