Page 106 of Stolen Ones

‘Is that a technical term?’ Kim asked as the others resumed work.

‘Think of it this way. He’s like a turtle sticking its head out of his shell. The last thing you want is for him to pull it back in. Right now, you have nothing – no physical evidence to tie him to any crime. In the absence of that, you need his confession. The priority is finding Grace Lennard and, right now, the only source of information is him.’

Kim digested everything she’d said.

‘Bryant, you ready?’

It was time to go catch them a tortoise.

Sixty-Four

The meeting came to Alex sooner than expected.

Noelle Holten appeared in her doorway. ‘What were you talking to that bitch about?’

Alex fixed surprise on her face at the question.

‘You know who I mean? The murdering bitch.’

Alex ignored the irony that this woman was serving an eighteen-year stretch for murder herself.

‘Emma, out,’ Alex instructed.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, I just got to a really good bit,’ she moaned, flouncing off her bed.

As Emma made her exit, Alex took a moment to appraise the woman before her. Noelle Holten was forty-nine years old. Her attractive face was framed by long blonde hair, and although few people looked like murderers, this lady couldn’t have been further from the photofit, with her gentle features and studious, black-rimmed glasses.

From what Alex had learned, the woman hailed from Canada and had trained as a probation officer. Her diligence in her work had placed a drug dealer back inside to complete a four-year stretch. For payback he had waited for Noelle’s fifteen-year-old daughter at the school gates. After injecting her with meth, he had raped and killed her less than a mile away from her home.

When asked who could have done this, Noelle had remained silent. She had known who it was and that there was nothing the police could do to him that would satisfy her need for vengeance. She already knew everything about him herself. She knew his family, his friends, his old haunts, his old habits.

She’d been wily and had waited a few months before getting together a kitchen knife, a balaclava and a pair of men’s trainers a size too big. She found him, followed him, stabbed him and returned home. A drug deal gone wrong, the police had thought, until forensics found a couple of dog hairs on his coat. The detective remembered petting a brown Labrador named Buster when investigating the murder of Noelle’s daughter.

When he’d explained the advances in DNA when it came to animal hair, Noelle Holten had broken down and admitted that she’d taken her dog for a walk shortly before.

The perfect crime – or it would have been if she hadn’t been as bothered about her dog’s ablutions and well-being before setting off to brutally murder someone.

The whole sorry tale had left her with a deep hatred of drug dealers and especially meth.

‘You do know what she sells?’ Noelle asked, stepping further into the room.

‘Oh, Noelle, if I was to stop speaking to everyone in here who had done something foul, I’d never open my mouth again. We’re in prison, after all. There are few paragons of virtue gracing these halls.’

‘She kills kids.’

Alex sighed heavily. ‘I understand that she cares nothing for the end user of her product, and no one wants to see children getting hurt, but I didn’t voluntarily just strike up conversation with her. It’s not like I want to be best friends with her.’

‘So what did she want?’ Noelle asked, taking a step closer.

Alex remained seated. She wasn’t intimidated. Noelle was not a naturally violent person. Her frenzy during the murder had been driven by rage and grief.

Alex lowered her eyelids. ‘She just wanted my help with something.’

‘What could you possibly help her with?’

Alex remained silent for a minute to see if she would be able to make the leap herself.

Noelle waited.