“I’ve been thinking about this,” said Kate. “We won’t ask him about that. We’ll concentrate on working out what his relationship was with Joanna. That’s the key.”
38
In the early hours of the next morning, Tom parked in a quiet residential street on the outskirts of Exeter. He dressed head to toe in black. It was a hot night, but he pulled on black gloves and a black balaclava with eyeholes. From beside him on the seat, he picked up a plastic bag that contained the underwear belonging to Hayden. He placed it in a black rucksack and got out of his car.
The street of finely appointed terraced houses was still and quiet, and the only sound came from the buzz of moths hovering in the orange glare of the streetlamps. Keeping to the shadows, he walked two streets over and came to a black SUV in the shadows of a tall tree. The windows of the surrounding houses were all dark. He reached into his pocket and found the car lock immobilizer. It had been an expensive purchase online, but worth it. Standing next to the SUV, and preparing to move fast if it didn’t work, he pressed the button on the device. With a slick whir and a flash of headlights, the SUV’s central locking opened, and the locks popped up.
Bracing for a car alarm, he opened the passenger door and waited, but nothing happened. There was beautiful silence. Taking care not to touch anything, Tom took out a pair of long metal tongs, pulled Hayden’s underwear from the plastic bag in his rucksack, and wiped the fabric all over the passenger seat, dashboard, and steering wheel. He then shoved the underwear under the passenger seat of the car.
He straightened up, put the tongs back in his rucksack, and closed the passenger door of the SUV. He pressed the button of the immobilizer, and the car locked itself, and the headlights flashed once.
It had taken less than a minute. Tom melted away, back into the shadows to his car.
He made one stop on the way back home, to an old red phone box on a country lane, where he phoned the police hotline and left urgent information about the Hayden Oakley murder investigation.
39
On Tuesday morning, Kate and Tristan found themselves in a Starbucks close to the university campus in Exeter. Perched on a hill, it was in a busy row of shops and looked out over the estuary. It was close to where Noah lived with his wife.
Tristan thought it was odd to see him arrive, in person, after weeks of staring at pictures of him on CCTV, with Joanna, and hearing all the stories and conflicting opinions about him.
He was a tall, broad man, much taller than he’d looked in photos. He’d also filled out a little more since the early 2000s. He was dressed like an off-duty actor, in slightly creased white chinos and a blue linen shirt with a thin scarf knotted loosely at his neck.
He came up to them at the table, and there was a moment where Tristan didn’t know what to say.
“Hello,” he said, getting up and offering his hand. “I’m Tristan Harper, and this is my associate, Kate Marshall.”
“Lovely to meet you both.” He smiled, taking Tristan’s hands in both of his when they shook. Tristan noticed he clasped Kate’s hand a little less warmly, just using his left hand.
“Thank you for making time to meet us,” said Kate. “I’m just going up. Can I get you a coffee?”
“I could murder a latte, large, and a scone if there’s one up for grabs,” said Noah. He was very confident, but underneath was a tinge of nerves, thought Tristan. Kate went off to the counter, and Noah seemed to look him over.
“Where is your detective agency, exactly?” he asked.
“We’re in Thurlow Bay. It’s about five miles outside Ashdean.”
“Ashdean, such a quaint place. I used to go there for weekends as a young boy. I had an aunt who owned a house up on the cliff. Aunt Marie. She was a lot of fun, liked the gin, if you know what I mean . . .” He made a drinking motion with his hand.
“Right,” said Tristan. There was an awkward silence, and he looked to see how Kate was getting on. She’d given her order and was waiting to collect the drinks.
Noah drummed his fingers on the table. “So . . . I’m here to talk to you about Joanna Duncan, yes?” He raised his eyebrows. “Painful time that was, losing my seat. Great deal of embarrassment all round . . . Although”—and at this point he laughed—“there are plenty of other MPs, right now, who still have their seats, doing far worse.”
Tristan was glad to see Kate collecting their order, and a moment later she came back to the table with their coffee and a scone for Noah.
“Lovely, thank you,” he said.