CRIME IN THE GALLERY a fiercely addictive crime thriller (Detective Markham Mystery Book 6) by CATHERINE MOLONEY

Author:CATHERINE MOLONEY [MOLONEY, CATHERINE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JOFFE BOOKS murder mystery and crime
Published: 2019-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

10. Skeletons in the Closet

There was no denying that Noakes really came into his own at times like this, Kate Burton reflected much later on that seemingly interminable night as the team sat slumped, exhausted, in the gallery café. Like a guard dog with its hackles up, Noakes had shielded Markham, protecting him from everyone — SOCOs, paramedics, uniforms, press, bystanders, the lot. Buying him breathing space. ‘You get off, guv,’ he told him. ‘We c’n see to things here. You get off to Station Road.’ This being the address where Ned Chester lived with his partner and fellow journalist Carol Anne.

‘Chester and the guvnor go way back,’ Noakes told the other two. ‘Very different from scuzballs like Gavin Conors.’ He scowled at the thought of the Gazette’s lead gossip columnist with whom there had been some legendary run-ins over the years. ‘Chester was a gent. A class act. If you had a deal with him, he never welched. The boss knew he could give him the inside track an’ there was no danger of it getting out.’ In a voice rough with emotion, he added, ‘He was on the boss’s wavelength too with all the arty-farty stuff. But there was nothing phoney about him.’ Noakes’s features passed through some extraordinary contortions as if he was going to cry. Then the moment passed and he glared defiantly at his colleagues, almost daring them to comment on this show of emotion.

Burton and Doyle preserved a respectful silence.

‘Didn’t disappear up his own backside like your usual posho type.’ Noakes’s tone was affectionate. ‘Liked to take the piss too . . . there was this time at the Town Hall when a waiter asked if he wanted a drink . . . “That’s very kind, I’ll have a tomato soup,” he said. You should’ve seen the look on that fella’s face.’

The defiance was back, tinged with a touch of triumph. ‘He liked my Matchstick Man an’ all. Said he was a good northerner. When I told him I didn’t see the point of them women with too much hair lolling around in baths an’ things . . . the ones in the Victorian pictures . . . he jus’ laughed and said in the beginning it was a bit like porn . . . folk wanted an excuse to gawp at nudes.’

Burton suspected that Ned Chester had enjoyed winding Noakes up, but she was touched nonetheless.

‘Yeah, he had a way with him,’ the DS concluded with sorrowful regret. ‘Like the guvnor’s Olivia . . . Broke the mould when they made those two.’

An unmistakeable softness crept into Noakes’s voice as he said this, his trademark pugnaciousness momentarily erased.

Burton felt a needle-sharp stab of pain beneath her ribs before furiously berating herself for being a selfish bitch. Noakes was right. Thank God the boss had Olivia to comfort him in this bleakest extremity. His girlfriend would find the right words.

Doyle cleared his throat.

‘What was Chester working on, sarge? I mean, he must’ve found something out.

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