“Police obtained a warrant to enter the home of the ex–Member of Parliament for Devon and Cornwall Noah Huntley,” said the news reporter’s voice. “He was arrested at the same time.” It then cut to Noah Huntley as he was escorted to the front steps of Exeter police station, with his hands cuffed in front of him. There was a crush of journalists outside, waiting with cameras and smartphones, and he kept his head down as the police guided him through the crowd.
“Noah Huntley lost his seat in a 2002 by-election after he was accused of taking bribes to award council-run contracts. Police are now arresting him in conjunction with the body of a twenty-one-year-old man found in the West Country. They also wish to question him in relation to four other unsolved murders dating back to the time he was an MP, and the disappearance of Joanna Duncan, a local journalist from the West Country News who was investigating Noah Huntley shortly before she went missing,” said the news reporter. The photo of Joanna smiling on the beach with the coconut cocktail in her hand flashed up on the screen.
“Oh, my darling,” said Bev, taking out a tissue and putting it to her face. “They’ve got him. They’ve got the bastard,” she said, moving closer to the screen and talking up to the photo of Joanna. Tristan glanced across at Kate. Bev’s grief was so raw that it felt almost intrusive to be standing next to her.
“It looks like the news reporters were tipped off about Noah Huntley being arrested,” said Tristan.
“Is that a good thing? That must be a good thing . . . They’ll be looking for Joanna. Is there anything more about her? Have they said that they’re reopening Joanna’s case?” said Bev, turning to face them.
Bill remained sitting at the breakfast bar with his laptop. “It’s still very early days; I presume they only have a few days to question Noah before they have to charge him or let him go,” he said. Bev moved around and nudged Bill out of the way. She put her fingers on the touch pad and scrolled down to the photo of Joanna.
“I told you that we’d find out who did this to you,” she said, to the photo. Bill looked up at Kate and Tristan, almost apologetically. “I know it was that nasty politician. You found him out, and he didn’t like it, did he?”
Kate understood that Bev was mired in guilt, but the way she was talking to the photo of Joanna was uncomfortable.
“Could we talk to you both and give you our update on the case so far?”
Bev was still talking to the photo on the screen, oblivious to Kate and Tristan. “We’re now going to question that awful man, and he’s going to tell us where you are, do you hear me, Jo?”
“Why don’t you go and have a seat out on the terrace? There’s an umbrella and table. I’ll make us some coffee, and we’ll join you,” said Bill, indicating that he would deal with Bev.
Kate nodded, and she and Tristan moved over to the glass doors and outside. The terrace ran the width of the house, and it was equally deep as it was wide—to Kate it looked huge. It was empty of furniture, apart from a wooden table and four chairs under a white umbrella. She and Tristan sat down.
“The police must be confident, to move so quickly and arrest Huntley?” said Tristan.
“They have potential DNA evidence; if that comes through and links him to Hayden or any of the other young men, then they’ll have a strong case to charge him,” said Kate.
Bill emerged from the glass doors with Bev, who was clinging on to his arm. She looked frail in the sunshine, her skin pale. They came and sat at the table.
Kate gave them an update on everything they’d discovered over the past three weeks: how the names David Lamb and Gabe Kemp printed on the lid of Joanna’s cardboard box had led them to Shelley Morden, who knew David Lamb, who in turn led them to Max Jesper.
“We’ve thrown a wide net with the investigation over the past few weeks,” finished Kate. “But we’d like to continue and focus in on Max Jesper’s commune and the people who went there. So many of the people we’ve investigated have been linked to the commune.”
“I’ve never heard of this place. Have you, Bill?” asked Bev.
Bill rubbed his face. He looked serious after Kate’s recap.
“I’ve heard of Max Jesper, just because of the squatter’s rights story. That building is now worth a fortune. I’ve had a couple of business meetings there in the past. Some of my clients like to meet in nice restaurants.”
“And you think that Jo was onto Noah Huntley because he used to go to the commune and carry on with these young lads?” asked Bev.