by Conrad Jones
‘Okay,’ Jack said. ‘Are you going to tell me what is really going on?’
‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,’ Kelly said. ‘Just drive us away from here.’
‘Why didn’t you tell the police you saw them leaving the house?’ Jack asked, starting the engine. ‘I know you saw them. You must have. I heard the engine starting up.’
‘Did you see anyone?’ she asked, abruptly.
‘No.’
‘Then don’t tell me what I saw,’ she said. ‘And the reason you don’t know what I saw is because you were still in the sand dunes,’ she said, angrily. ‘I ran down the path to see if they were still there, you were hiding on the beach.’
‘I wasn’t hiding,’ Jack protested. ‘That’s not fair. I was looking at the dead woman lying on the ground. It’s not something I see every day and I was shocked.’
‘Whatever.’
‘I don’t want to argue about it,’ Jack said. Kelly folded her arms and looked out of the window. ‘If you say you didn’t see them, I believe you.’
‘Just drive me back to town,’ Kelly said.
Jack drove past the clock in the square and up the hill towards the expressway. He didn’t see the van parked at the side of the road by the Y Morfa pub.
‘Jack Henderson, plasterer. No job too big or too small,’ the man read from the side of Jack’s car. The van pulled out and followed them. ‘I’ve got his mobile number. Google him.’
‘Here he is. Jack Henderson, Holyhead. I’ve got a Facebook profile and I’ve got pictures of him standing with his pretty little girlfriend and he’s tagged her into the picture.’ There was pause while he followed the tag. ‘Kelly Williams also from Holyhead and that pretty little thing must be her daughter. Spitting image of her but there are no pictures of Jack on her profile. He’s not the kid’s father.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Follow them. I want to know where the lovely Kelly lives and have a chat with her about keeping her mouth shut.’ He paused. ‘Once we know where she lives, get rid of the van. Take it to the workshop and swap the plates back over to the originals.’
Chapter 9
Tiff opened her eyes and couldn’t remember where she was or why she was there. Nausea hit her like a tidal wave and she vomited. She tried to miss her shoes but failed. Tomatoes and carrots splattered on her left foot and the grass even though she hadn’t eaten either. The acidic gunk filled her senses and she heaved again. A claxon blared, bells rang and music thumped. The sound of voices drifted to her. She was cold.
‘Are you okay, Tiff?’ A male voice spoke. She recognised it but couldn’t place it. Someone shook her gently. ‘Tiff. Are you okay?’
‘What time is it?’ Tiff asked. She tried to focus on him. It was Wayne. Tiff had snogged him outside the Stanley a few weeks back. They were interrupted by a smoker going out for a cigarette, which was a blessing as he’d dated Chelle for a while. Bonking her ex would lead to a difficult conversation. It was a line they didn’t cross. All exes were out of bounds. Another wave of nausea hit her and she gagged but there was nothing left inside.
‘Nearly seven o’clock,’ Wayne said. He passed her a bottle. ‘Here. Have a drink of water. You look hammered.’
‘Thanks.’ Tiff was gutted. Wayne was fit. ‘What time did you say it is?’
‘Seven o’clock.’
‘Seven?’ Tiff asked. ‘It was only half past four a minute ago.’
‘Maybe in your world but not in this one, you headcase,’ Wayne laughed.
Tiff took the water and sipped from it. The liquid soothed her throat. She was thirsty. The beer tent was much quieter than it had been. She looked around the tables nearby but they were empty. The crowds had moved on.
‘Have you seen Chelle,’ Tiff asked.
‘No. Was she here with you?’
‘She was. She went to get some food but that was ages ago,’ Tiff said. ‘What time did you say it was?’
‘Seven o’clock.’
‘I must have fallen asleep. We wanted to see the show,’ Tiff mumbled. She was confused. Too much time had passed. Something wasn’t right. ‘She might have gone to the circus without me. Probably embarrassed by her little sister as usual, eh?’
‘Nothing new there,’ Wayne said. His brown hair was cut close to his scalp at the sides, longer on top and combed over. Stubble covered his chin. He was wearing one of those expensive jackets with a patch on the left arm. Her brain wasn’t working properly. She couldn’t remember the brand but they cost a ridiculous amount of money. ‘How did you get in that state?’ Wayne asked, shaking his head. ‘You’re a mess, Tiff.’
‘Thank you very much,’ Tiff said, offended slightly. She couldn’t argue with him. She felt like shit. If she looked half as bad as she felt, she looked like a zombie. ‘I did some shots in the Albert with some guys who work on the fair,’ Tiff said. She finished the water off. ‘Chelle reckoned they spiked me. Bastards.’
‘What?’ Wayne said, angrily. ‘That’s out of order. Can you remember them?’
‘I can just about remember what my name is,’ Tiff said. ‘I feel wiped out. I will wait for Chelle and then go home. I need my bed.’
‘Chelle wouldn’t leave you here on your own in that state,’ Kev said, concerned. ‘The circus doesn’t start for another hour. She’s probably in a queue for food.’
‘It must be a long queue,’ Tiff mumbled. ‘She went ages ago. I hope she’s not pissed off with me.’
‘Where was she going to get the food from?’
‘I don’t know. She went to get hotdogs and chips from somewhere,’ Tiff said. ‘How many stalls sell hotdogs?’
‘All of them,’ Wayne joked. ‘Do you want me to get you a taxi?’ He looked worried. ‘They’ve made a temporary rank on the Newry. We can have a look for her at the burger vans on the way. It’s best to get you home. I don’t want to leave you on your own here.’
‘Okay,’ Tiff said. ‘Can we look around the fairground for her?’
‘Yes,’ Wayne said. ‘There’s a lost child van too. They can put out a call for her on the Tannoy. If she’s here, we’ll find her.’
‘Of course, she’s here,’ Tiff said. ‘Where else would she be?’
‘I don’t know,’ Wayne said. ‘Let’s take a look around. Are you okay to stand up?’
‘Yes,’ Tiff said. She stood and her legs were shaking. She felt as weak as a kitten. Wayne took her arm which felt nice and they walked out of the beer tent. The fresh air felt good and the sea breeze touched her skin, cooling her down instantly. Her blood began to pump faster clearing the haze from her mind. The faces in the crowd sharpened and the sounds became clearer. They passed three food vans but Chelle wasn’t there. She couldn’t understand why she hadn’t come back for her. It was completely out of character. She fussed around Tiff like she was her daughter not her sister. Sometimes, she was too much, stifling Tiff but she meant well. Her overriding instinct was to protect her younger sister. She would never have left her alone, especially drunk. As her senses returned to her, Tiff began to feel frightened. Something was wrong.
Chapter 10
Alan took the stairs slowly. Strip lights burned brightly revealing a cellar which ran the length of the house and beyond. The far end was beneath the front garden. Kim was close behind him. From the top of the cellar stairs, they had seen three pairs of feet; the ankles tied together. From a few steps further down, they could see the bodies in their entirety. There was a male in his sixties and a female around the same age, bound and gagged. Their wrists were tied behind their back and they were seated on the cobblestone floor, slumped against the wall. Next to them was a much older female lying on her back. She wasn’t bound but she was clearly dead. Her mouth was open and twisted into a silent scream. When he reached the bottom step, he could see an elderly male, probably in his eighties bound and gagged, seated against the opposite wall. His head was slumped, chin on his chest. The air was sour and dry. Every wall was covered w
ith wine racks, which were full of bottles of red, white and rose. Hundreds of them in every direction.
‘I can’t see any sign of trauma,’ Alan said. ‘Judging by the smell, they’ve been down here a while.’ He approached the younger victims. ‘Look how drawn their faces are,’ he said. ‘They look like Auschwitz victims.’
‘They starved to death?’ Kim said.
‘They look like they hadn’t eaten or drank for a while,’ he said. ‘Except for this poor old dear.’ He looked closely at the older lady. ‘She was in good health when she died. There are bruises around her neck.’
‘Look at their clothes. All designer labels. These people were wealthy. Hair, teeth and nails on the women are well maintained.’ Kim checked the male’s clothing. His pockets were empty. ‘There’s no ID on him.’
‘We need to trace the owners rapidly. Doctor Telford has got some explaining to do,’ Alan said. ‘There’s more to this property than meets the eye. It’s like a show home. Everything in the place costs a fortune but is untouched.’ He studied all four victims. There was no sign of violence on three of the bodies. The bruising and abrasions on their arms were from the bindings. The pallor of their skin told him they’d been severely dehydrated before they died.
‘It looks like they were restrained in the cellar and left to die.’
‘Who they are and why they are here is what we need to know,’ Alan said. It was a mystery they would need to solve before the investigation could gain traction. ‘Ask Bob to chase up Pamela Stone, please. We need DNA running pronto.’ Kim shouted up to the top of the stairs and Bob acknowledged the order. They carried on through the cellar.
‘All four victims are wearing watches and jewellery,’ Kim said. ‘Rolex, Tag, Hublot. They’re not cheap. Probably worth thousands.’
‘Robbery wasn’t the motive unless the attackers were disturbed in the process, left and never returned.’
‘In which case, an anonymous call to the police would have prevented them dying,’ Kim said. ‘Even the most hardened criminals would have thought long and hard about leaving elderly victims to die in such a long and drawn-out fashion. The hunger and thirst would have driven them to distraction long before they died. No one would want that on their conscience.’
‘Some people don’t have a conscience,’ Alan said. ‘Like the guy who watched Mary Adams take a nosedive from the balcony and didn’t even look to see if she was dead.’ He stooped down and rubbed his chin. ‘Simple curiosity would make most people want to see what had happened to her yet he didn’t venture onto the balcony. Why was that?’
‘Maybe he didn’t want to be seen clearly,’ Kim said. ‘Kelly said he knew they were there because he looked straight at them.’
‘They must have known what was in the basement,’ Alan said. ‘Is this what caused the argument?’
‘What do you think happened?’ Kim asked.
‘I can honestly say, I haven’t got a clue,’ Alan said. He walked deeper into the cellar. The air was dry and ambient temperature. Perfect for storing wine, he thought. Not people. A staircase to his left caught his attention. ‘Look at that,’ he said, turning to Kim. They approached it. ‘It must lead up to the garden at the side of the house.’
‘So, the cellar can be accessed from outside?’ Kim said.
‘Yes, but on the blind side of the house that you can’t see from the driveway. Probably an old coal hole. Handy if you’re receiving a delivery of a few hundred bottles of wine,’ Alan mused. He looked beyond the staircase at the cellar wall. There were no wine racks beyond it and the cellar was narrower. ‘Or something else,’ Alan said, walking to the far end of the cellar. There was a door to his left, hidden from view from the rest of the cellar. He tried the handle but it was locked. ‘It smells like a zoo down here. Have you got the keys?’
‘Yes,’ Kim said, fishing them from her pocket. She handed them to Alan. Alan sifted through the keys until he found one that opened the lock. The door creaked open and he recoiled from the smell. The room beyond was in darkness but he sensed movement and he could smell human waste, urine and excrement. The stink was choking. He could feel fear emanating from within. There was a whimpering noise. ‘Can you hear that?’
‘Yes,’ Kim said.
He reached inside and felt along the wall until he reached a light switch.
‘Hey presto,’ he said turning on the light. Nine frightened young women cowered against the walls. Their eyes were wide in terror. They blinked against the light. Kim stood next to him. The floor was littered with empty water bottles. ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘Nor me,’ Kim muttered.
‘There’s no need to be afraid,’ Alan said to them. ‘We’re the police.’
Chapter 11
Tiff and Wayne made their way around the fairground, checking every food vendor along the way. Chelle wasn’t there. They approached the lost child van, which was located at the centre of the fairground. It was decorated with balloons and manned by two young women and an overweight clown performed outside. The clown looked friendly; his makeup applied to make him look happy. His giant shoes and loping walk made him comical to watch. A badge on his lapel said his name was Gonzo. He had a large flower on his lapel which squirted onlookers with water. People passing stopped for selfies with him and their children. Gonzo was clearly loving his job and the kids loved him. Some of the lost kids didn’t want to leave with their parents, staying with the clown was more fun. Tiff walked to the counter and was greeted with a warm smile.
‘How can we help you?’ the young lady asked. Her accent was Eastern European. ‘I’m Greta and this is my associate Judy. Have you lost a child today?’ Her words were clearly scripted and practiced well.
‘Sort of,’ Tiff said. ‘I’ve lost my sister.’
‘Oh no,’ Greta said, reaching for her mug of coffee. She took a sip. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘She went to buy some hotdogs but she never returned.’
‘Okay,’ Greta said. ‘Let’s start at the beginning. Have you checked all the hotdog vans?’
‘Yes. We’ve just been around the fairground and checked them all but we didn’t see her at any of them.’
‘Okay. Don’t worry. We’ll find her. What time did you last see her?’ Greta asked, filling in a form.
‘Half past four,’ Tiff said.
‘Oh dear. That’s a while ago,’ Greta said, checking her watch. ‘What is your sister’s name?’
‘Michelle Branning,’ Tiff said. Greta wrote it down and handed the slip of paper to Judy. Judy grabbed a microphone and tested it by blowing on it.
‘And how old is Michelle?’ Greta asked.
‘Twenty-one,’ Tiff said, a little embarrassed.
‘Twenty-one,’ Greta repeated. She grimaced. ‘Twenty-one-year-olds don’t get lost at the fair.’
‘This one did,’ Tiff sighed.
‘You said her name is, Michelle Branning?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was there anyone else with you?’ Greta asked. She looked at Wayne. ‘Maybe she went off with a guy. A boyfriend perhaps?’
‘No. She didn’t and he’s not my boyfriend,’ Tiff said. ‘We were alone all day.’
‘Michelle, Michelle,’ Greta repeated to herself. She checked the lost property log. ‘What was the name in the handbag that was handed in?’ Greta asked Judy. Judy shrugged and made an announcement for Michelle Branning to make her way to the lost children station next to the waltzers. She repeated the message several times. ‘Wait there a minute,’ Greta said. She opened a locker behind her and retrieved a sealed plastic bag. Inside was a pink handbag. She brought it back to the counter. ‘What type of handbag does Michelle have?’
‘A pink Michael Kors bag, like that one,’ Tiff said. Greta opened the bag and removed a purse. ‘Her address is Ffordd Beibio, Holyhead,’ Tiff said.
‘The name and address match. This is your sister’s bag,’ Greta said. ‘It has her purse in it and her phone was found on the floor n
ext to it.’
‘On the floor where?’ Tiff asked. She was beginning to panic. ‘Oh my god. Chelle wouldn’t leave her bag and phone anywhere. She’s glued to her phone. Where did you get it from?’
‘It came to us as lost property. They were handed in by our cleaning staff at the toilet block behind the beer tent,’ Greta said.
‘That’s where I last saw her,’ Tiff said.
‘At the toilets?’
‘No. In the beer tent.’
‘Oh. I see. So, you were both in the beer tent?’
‘Yes. Then Chelle went to get some food.’
‘Were you drinking at all today?’
‘What?’ Tiff asked.
‘Have you been drinking at all today?’ Greta’s smile faded slightly. ‘I have to ask.’
‘Yes. Of course, we have,’ Tiff said, feeling sick. ‘It’s my birthday.’
‘Ah, you’ve been celebrating?’
‘Yes.’
‘So, you’ve been celebrating all day?’ Greta said, writing on another form. ‘And she’s twenty-one.’
‘Yes. She’s twenty-one. She wasn’t drunk, if that’s what you’re implying,’ Tiff said.
‘I wasn’t implying anything,’ Greta said, smiling. ‘Just getting the facts straight. What time did you start drinking?’
‘Don’t go there. I’m not getting into an argument about it,’ Tiff said. ‘When was her bag handed in?’
‘About five o’clock but I can’t be sure when she actually left it,’ Greta said. ‘That was when it was handed in to me.’ Judy listened carefully to the conversation and made the announcement again, instructing Michelle Branning to make her way to the lost child station. ‘The cleaners may have been busy and brought it to me when they had a spare minute.’
‘Where did you last see her?’ Judy interrupted.
‘We were in the beer tent.’
‘You’re sure she wasn’t drunk when you last saw her?’ Judy said, shaking her head. ‘Most people in the beer tent are getting drunk or are already drunk.’
