As she left the tiny house in Garthowen, Yvonne pondered the bullying Kyle had experienced.
Without the perpetrators’ names, it wasn’t much to work with. Perhaps she should look more closely at Ieuan Jones. His father’s farm was near Welshpool, and he had access to shotguns. Plus, he’d been seen on the Ridgeway, the night after the Paynes were killed, the day before Carl Baker’s rucksack was found. His name kept on popping up.
Dewi joined her in the office the following day.
She filled him in regarding the difficulties Kyle Davies experienced with others at his school, especially in connection with his relationship.
“So, he was bullied because of Brianna?”
“It seems he wasn’t the only one with designs on her.”
“But that cannot be a factor in the murder, can it? I mean, how would that tie in with the Paynes, or Carl Baker?”
“I don’t know, Dewi. All I can say is his name and circumstances are hanging around this case like a bad smell.”
“It’s still not enough for a warrant to search his father’s farm.”
“Not yet.”
“And, what about Jason Timms?” Dewi scratched his stubble. “We still haven’t found him, alive or dead.”
“I know.” Yvonne nodded. “It felt like his wife was up to something, when I saw her yesterday. She was texting with someone. Whoever it was, she seemed to want to keep the conversation hidden from me, Dewi. She looked distinctly uncomfortable, covering up her phone. I couldn’t possibly have read what was on it from where I was sitting, and yet she still put her hat over it.”
“Perhaps, the couple are involved in an insurance scam. And, it’s a motive for murder. The other deaths could all be part of a convenient serial killer narrative.”
“I don’t know… Without a body, it would be years before they saw any money and, even then, it wouldn’t be guaranteed. It’s possible, but I don’t see that as likely. We’ll bear it in mind, however.”
“What about Jonathan Payne? He stands to inherit his brother’s house?”
“Again, it’s a lot of effort and risk, to murder five people simply to inherit a house.” She tapped her pen against her hand. “I keep coming back to that rucksack, left on the Ridgeway path as it was.”
“Go on…”
“If you and I were up there walking, and we came across it, what would we do?”
Dewi scratched his cheek. “Well, we’d look inside, wouldn’t we? We’d look for a name, or contact number. We’d want to contact whoever had lost it.”
“Right… And, if we couldn’t get hold of them, we’d contact the police at that point. Or, we’d take it to the station in case the owner had reported it missing.”
“But we are police officers.”
“It doesn’t matter, that is the action most people would take.”
“Sure.”
“But they didn’t. They assumed, right off the bat, that something bad had happened. Why? Why would that have been their first thought?”
“Are you saying that one of them must have known that Carl was dead, and convinced the others to leave the bag alone?”
“I think we should question them again, to understand what they did, or didn’t, know... what they did, or didn’t, see.”
“What about Sian Timms?”
“Ask Dai to examine all of her public social media posts. Check her contacts, who she’s talking to, and if anyone is paying her particular attention. If she is having an affair, who is it? And what might their connection be to her husband?”
“Will do.” Dewi nodded.
19
Discovery in the woods
“Okay, spit it out. Why are we here?” Tasha, looking relaxed in a t-shirt, jeans, and sandals, cocked her head to one side, suspicious of her partner’s motives for the picnic. The sun glinted off her chocolate hair.
“I don’t know what you mean.” Yvonne grinned, lowering her eyes.
“You’ve brought me back to the Ridgeway. I figure that work has to be involved somewhere, though I am not complaining. It is a gorgeous day.”
Yvonne took the pack off her back, choosing a flat space to sit down with dappled shade and views off into the valley below. “Here is a suitable spot.” She kicked off her boots and laid out the tartan picnic blanket they had purchased in Edinburgh the previous winter.
“It is,” Tasha agreed, taking a seat. “I’d still like to know why you’ve brought me here?”
The DI hitched the knees of her jeans so she could kneel comfortably. “You’re right, work is part of the reason we are here.”
“Okay…”
“The killer wanted us to have certain photographs. There is a reason he is leaving belongings for us to find, and I believe it’s the pictures. I think it is time we found out why.”
“I see.”
“So, I’ve brought the prints taken from Carl Baker’s camera. He was the Australian backpacker killed just over two kilometres away. I think his bag was left on the track up here, because it is here that we need to search for the subjects of these photographs. I think we will find something connected to these murders, when we do. It’s a long-shot, and I cannot justify using the team’s time on this. It could be a needle in a haystack. But, an afternoon’s stroll with my favourite person, could have added benefits. I hope you don’t mind, Tasha?”
The psychologist laughed. “I knew it, and of course I don’t mind. In fact, I think it’s a good idea. This place is vast, though. How are we to know where to start? It’s a crazy quest, even for us.”
“Not so crazy, actually.” Yvonne’s forehead furrowed with concentration. “Our enquiries have thrown up a few clues.”
“Go on…”
“Carl Baker was seen by a cyclist at a place called Cider House, at the start of this twenty-five kilometre trail. He’d pitched a two-man tent next to the gravel car park and large barn.”
“Wait, would the tent still be there?”
“No, he packed and took it with him, but it wasn’t found with either his rucksack or his body. We don’t know what happened to it, but it is possible his killer kept it.”
“I see.”
“The cyclist, who is female, spoke to Carl. He told her of his intention to hike over the Ridgeway, to Bishop’s Castle. We know where his rucksack was found, and where his body was left. There are snippets of background in the photos, which put them close to this spot. It’s where the trees and the hills open out to reveal the beautiful flat lands beyond.” She pointed. “We can thank Callum for finding the background. He watched hours of YouTube videos recorded by hikers. We know it wasn’t on the first part of the Ridgeway, because it’s too open there. It had to have been on this part of the trail. Carl’s remains were found in Block Wood.”
“What do you think we’ll find?”
The DI leaned back, her hands on the blanket. “If we find anything at all, it will be a miracle. But I think the killer is pointing us here for a reason. Part of a sick treasure hunt, perhaps.”
“We’ll start looking right after lunch, then.” Tasha reached into the backpack for their food and drink.
“Could our killer be eighteen, Tasha?”
“Why, have you someone in mind?”
The DI pursed her lips. “Perhaps…”
“Yes, at a pinch, he could be that young. Like I said before, that is a naivety to these crimes. But, if he is that young, he has a confidence beyond his years.”
Yvonne had prepped their food that morning, Italian hams, olives, sun-dried tomatoes, and freshly baked ciabatta. All this, to be washed down with orange juice and spring water.
They ate in relative silence, save for the sound of animals, eyes wandering over the faraway fields and faded hills, both lost in thought.
“Okay, where do we start?” Tasha asked, after they had packed everything away.
“I don’t know…” Yvonne scanned the tree line. “The photographs were taken somewhere there.” She pointed to the periphery of the woo
d, holding up the photograph of the partial tree trunk. “The photographer was looking back towards the open landscape.”
“Then, we’ll head in there.” The psychologist smiled. “But, if we find nothing, you’re buying dinner.”
They entered the tree line, carefully scanning the ground within the area most likely to be have been used by the photographer.
The task would have been onerous under any circumstances, but in the current heatwave, it was doubly so. Temperatures had reached the low thirties centigrade.
Yvonne was grateful for the shade provided by the canopy. Sweat pooled on the small of her back. She checked her watch. It was two-thirty-eight. They had been searching for almost forty minutes. She was about to call Tasha to a refreshments break when something caught her eye.
A dark shadow, at the base of a spruce ten paces away, became a bag propped against a tree. A grey rucksack, with a green strip. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Yvonne? What is it?”
“Stay where you are,” the DI instructed. “I believe we’ve found the Paynes’ backpack. This is now a crime scene. We’ll have to preserve it until SOCO get here.”
Tasha stared open-mouthed. “Well done, Yvonne, bloody well done.”
20
Doubling down
The bag was quickly confirmed as belonging to Miles and Seren Payne.
Inside were more of their belongings, and Miles’ wallet. What stunned the team during the next morning’s briefing, however, was the revelation that Jason Timms’ bank card was also inside Miles Payne's wallet.
Dewi scratched his head. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I don’t think anyone was.” Yvonne put up a slide of the backpack and its contents, zooming in on Jason’s bank card. “The question is, who put it there? The obvious answer is the killer. What is not obvious, is whether Jason Timms is the killer, or simply another victim?”
“Timms may have put it there himself, to make believe he’s been murdered by a serial killer for the insurance money. His wife could be in on it,” Dai offered.
“That’s an angle we were considering.” She nodded. “But, if we are to accept that, we would also have to accept that he murdered five other people in order to build this elaborate serial killer narrative. I’m not sure that the insurance sum involved would be a big enough incentive for multiple murder.”
“Unless, he is an actual psychopath who enjoys it,” Dewi said.
“But then, why leave his shoes and so on by the river to make it look like suicide?” Yvonne frowned.
Callum cleared his throat. “A clever ploy, if he knew we would latch on to the photographs. Think about it. We see those images, and we suspect a serial killer is at work, We assume Jason has been murdered and thrown into the river. That way, when his body doesn’t show up, we assume it has been lost… washed away downstream. I’m leaning towards Timms as our killer.”
The DI tilted her head. “But it’s too neat, isn’t it?”
“Well, didn’t you say that Sian was acting shady? Texting someone she evidently didn’t want you to know about?”
“Yes, she was, and I think we should get her back in again, so we can discuss the finding of her husband’s bank card. What do we know from her social media, Callum?”
“I trawled through her public profiles, and those of her husband, but didn’t identify anyone paying either of them particular attention. There was no hint that Sian was having an affair. But we won’t know who she is texting unless we get a warrant for her phone.”
Yvonne nodded. “It might come to that. However, we have to keep an open mind, and I am still interested in Ieuan Jones. His name has come up frequently, and I cannot help but wonder whether he was the lad bullying Kyle Davies. Also, he and his friends found the rucksack belonging to Carl Baker. My feeling is that very little, in this case, is left to chance by the killer. My gut is telling me they were supposed to find the bag that day. Is that because the killer is one of them? We’ll get them all back in and get them to go through what they did again. Look for discrepancies.”
She continued. “Also, keep on at forensics. If they so much as get a sniff of the fingerprint, or DNA of this perpetrator, I want to know as soon as you do. I don’t know how much time we have before this killer murders again, but I expect it will not be long. If someone else falls prey to him, it’s on us. You’re doing a fantastic job, but keep on it. Don’t let up. Lives are depending on us.”
Sian Timms’ scowl could have wilted celery.
Yvonne arranged her papers on the interview room table, taking her time to make Sian sweat.
“Is this going to take long?” the interviewee asked, drumming her manicured nails on the table. “It’s just that I’ve got things to do.”
The DI turned to her. “I’m sorry, Sian. I thought you would appreciate being given the latest development in your husband’s case, in person.”
“Have you found him?”
“No, I’m afraid we haven’t found your husband.”
There was no sigh, no murmur, no expression of sadness.
Yvonne leaned in. “I’m sorry, I realise you must be in a lot of pain. I wish there was something I could say, that would ease that.”
“You said there had been a development.” Sian’s narrow eyes accompanied an accusatory tone.
“I did.” The DI scrutinised the other woman. “We found something belonging to your husband.”
“In the river?”
“It wasn’t in the river.”
“Then where? What have you found?”
The first glimmer of engagement.
“We found your husband’s bank card.”
“Really?” Sian frowned. “Where?”
“Up on the Kerry Ridgeway.”
“What? I don’t understand. I thought he went into the river?”
“Have you heard from your husband, Sian?”
“No.”
“Could he have disappeared on purpose?”
“No… I don’t know.” Her shoulders dropped. “I wouldn’t have said so, but…” She shrugged, her voice fading. “I don’t understand how you found his bank card, but not him?”
“I’m sorry.” Yvonne tilted her head. “You must be beside yourself.”
Sian leaned back in her chair. “I'm not. Actually, I’m beyond caring. If my husband wants to play silly buggers, well… well…” She pulled a face. “I will not let him make a fool of me.”
“What makes you think your husband is playing silly buggers, Sian? It is possible he has come to serious harm. We are not suggesting that he is trying to mess with your head.”
“You don’t have to.” Mrs Timms glared at her. “And, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
“What do you mean?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Sian sighed, folding her arms.
“Well, looking at your face, I’d say it matters. Why wouldn’t you put anything past him?”
“My husband can be cruel when he wants to be, Inspector Giles.”
“What do you mean, cruel? In what way?”
“Oh, I’ve had my fair share of stony silences, and arguments out of nowhere.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before? You led me to believe your relationship was positive, and you rarely argued. Now, you are saying something completely different. What am I to believe?”
“I thought you would suspect me of having something to do with my husband’s disappearance.”
“Did you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Was he having an affair?”
“How would I know?”
“Were you?”
“What?” She screwed her face up. “Having an affair?” Her features relaxed. “It would have served him right if I was.”
“That’s a little harsh, isn’t it? Given that he is missing.”
“You don’t know my husband.”
Yvonne leaned back in her chair. “I'm inclined to agree.”
“I don�
��t think anybody does.”
“Is he sadistic? Has he ever forced you to do anything against your will? You mentioned mental cruelty. What about physical cruelty?”
“No.” Sian’s shake of the head was emphatic. “He has never hurt me physically.”
“Have you ever been worried that he might?”
“Not really.”
“What do you mean, not really?”
“Well, arguments could get heated. He has a loud voice, and he would sometimes make me jump. But, I can honestly say he has never raised a hand to me.”
“Very well.”
Dewi caught up with Yvonne after Sian’s interview.
“What did she say? Is she up to something?”
The DI shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
They walked the corridor together, heading for CID, as she continued. “If she was part of an insurance scam with her husband, or if she had done away with him, I think she would try harder to act like she cared.”
“And you think she doesn’t?”
“Honestly? I don’t think she gives two hoots about him. I fear that Sian Timms has already scrubbed Jason Timms from her life for good. If he turned up now, I doubt she would have him back. But, as for being involved in anything? I don’t think so. As regards her husband, the question remains… Is he victim, or perpetrator?”
21
Sorting the wheat from the chaff
Eifion Evans arrived at the station early.
Yvonne collected him from reception, noting he was again dressed in a shirt, tie, and jeans. His hair had been given a fresh gel cut.
He pushed his glasses up his nose before following Yvonne to the interview room.
Of the three young men, he always struck her as the most nervous. The one most eager to please.
“Thank you for coming in, Eifion. Take a seat.”
The Wilderness Murders: DI Giles Book 16 (DI Giles Suspense Thriller Series) Page 10
