He did as instructed, pushing his glasses again and adjusting his watch strap.
She gave him a reassuring smile, hoping timidity wouldn’t stop him from opening up. “There are two reasons I asked you back.”
He nodded as though he had known this all along.
She continued. “The first has to do with you and your friends finding the rucksack on the Ridgeway.”
“Right…” He looked at his hands.
“Last time I spoke with you, you outlined how you found it. You said it gave you the creeps, and that you felt instinctively that someone had been harmed.”
He looked at her, eyes wide.
“Why did you think that? Why was that your first thought?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged.
“Eifion... back then, nobody knew that three people had been murdered up there, did they?”
He didn’t answer.
“So, what made you feel the way you did?”
“It was the way the bag was standing there… abandoned.”
“And yet, you didn’t look inside to find out who it belonged to?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“But if you had, you might have found a mobile number to ring, or an address to contact.”
“Where are you going with this?” He flashed her a look. There was a hardness in the eyes, as though he was daring her to push it further.
“I’m simply a little surprised at your lack of curiosity under the circumstances.”
“Yes, but you have the luxury of hindsight. We now know that people had been killed up there. It’s a good job we didn’t look in the bag. We’d have contaminated it.”
“How well did you know Kyle Davies?”
His eyes snapped to hers, eyelashes flickering. He swallowed twice. “He was in our school.”
“In your sixth-form college?”
“Yes.” His gaze slid to the back of his hands.
“You heard what happened to him?”
He nodded.
“What were your thoughts?”
“I was shocked. Everybody at school was shocked. And… Brianna…” He shook his head.
“Did you know Brianna?”
“Yes.”
“How well did you know her?”
“Not that well.”
“Did you ever speak to Kyle? Or interact with him?”
“Occasionally, but not very often.”
“What about your friends, Ieuan and Alfie?”
“Same as me, really, they had the occasional conversation, that sort of thing.”
“Hmm… Kyle’s dad told me his son was being bullied by other lads in sixth-form.”
Eifion chewed the inside of his cheek.
“Do you know who was picking on Kyle?”
He shook his head, his gaze remaining on the table and his hands.
“Did you witness anything?”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Well, either you did, or you didn’t, surely? Were you aware that he was being bullied?”
Silence.
“What about Brianna? Was she teased because she was seeing Kyle?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about your friend, Ieuan? Did he talk to Kyle?”
“Maybe, look, where is this leading? Are you asking me if we picked on him?”
“Did you?”
“Depends what you mean by picking on him. All of us get ribbed at school.”
“But Kyle got the brunt of it?” She tilted her head.
“Have you ever considered that he might have been asking for it?” Eifion’s nostrils flared.
“Wow…” Yvonne raised her eyebrows. “You’ll have to explain that, now you’ve said it.”
As though realising he had crossed a line, he bit his lip, running a hand through his hair, and hitching his glasses up. “He rubbed everyone’s noses in it.”
“In what?”
“In the fact he was having a relationship with Brianna.”
“And that made you angry?”
“It was annoying.”
“Did your friends feel the same way?”
“I think most of the boys felt like that.”
“Did you like Brianna? Were you attracted to her?”
“No.” He rubbed his face as it flushed with blood. “Kyle was irritating, that’s all. I’m sorry for thinking like that now, because he’s dead.” He looked directly at Yvonne, eyes locked onto hers. “They’re both dead.”
The latter comment sent a chill along the DI’s spine. She had the feeling it was intentional.
She poured water from the jug provided into a plastic cup. “Were you and your friends involved in bullying Kyle Davies?” she asked.
No answer.
“Where were you on the night Kyle and Brianna were murdered?”
“I’m not saying anything else without a solicitor.” Eifion scowled. “I don’t know what I am walking into, and I think you are trying to pin the murders on us. I know my rights.”
“Let me tell you, Eifion, I wouldn’t want anyone convicted for murder who wasn’t guilty of it. You can go. If we need to speak with you again, it will be in the presence of your chosen solicitor.”
Dewi was present for her interview with Alfie Lloyd.
Of the three young men, he had previously struck her as the most open. Perhaps this was because he was so self-assured.
“Thank you for coming in, Alfie,” she began. “We have a couple of things to ask you about today.”
He nodded, appearing relaxed in an open-necked shirt and jeans, fair hair tucked behind his ears, hands resting on his thighs.
She continued. “The first, relates to the rucksack that you and your friends discovered on the Ridgeway. Obviously, we now know it belonged to an Australian backpacker who was murdered.”
His eyes dropped to the table, shoulders sagging. “I heard.” He nodded.
“That rucksack, and its discovery, are now part of an ongoing murder investigation, for which your statements are very important.”
“I know,” he said, head bowed.
“Therefore, it’s vital that everything you tell us is truthful, and as accurate as you can make it.”
“Yes, of course.”
“So, remind me of how you found it.”
“We were heading toward the crossroads, on the approach to Mellington Hall. We were about a mile before you get to it, and planning to head to the dairy for ice cream. That’s when we first saw the pack. It had been left in the middle of the track, where the vegetation was quite high on either side. The back of it was facing us. The straps were on the opposite side. It was as though the owner had stopped for a moment, setting it down while they did something else, like go for a pee out of sight. But they hadn’t returned.”
“You said you left it there.”
“Yes, like I said, the vegetation was high on either side and, initially, we assumed the owner would be back for it.”
“So you continued on your way.”
“Yes.”
“Did you have the ice cream?”
“We did. We sat on the benches outside of the farm shop. It was hot, and we enjoyed the cold ice cream. We had soft drinks with us. We drank them and set off back the way we had come. The rucksack was still there, exactly as it had been before.”
“And, how long did you say it was between you seeing it the first time, and viewing it again on your return?”
He tilted his head. “Erm… about three hours, I’d say, but I didn’t check the time. Someone said it had been three hours, and that would have been about right.”
“And, you didn’t see anybody else?”
“No.”
“What about shots? Did you hear any gunshots on your walk?”
He shook his head. “Not that I recall. I’m not sure it would have registered with us, if we had.”
“What do you mean? Why not?”
“Well, it’s quite common to hear a shotgun going off. The farmers and landow
ners use them for all sorts, including sport. Ieuan has grown up with them.”
“You mean with his dad having guns?”
“Sure. They do clay pigeon shoots, pheasant shoots, and target practice. We’ve been out there a few times, hanging out, and shooting targets.”
“Who? You, Ieuan, and Eifion?”
“Yes, with Ieuan’s dad Carwyn, of course. We wouldn’t do it unsupervised.”
“I see.” She flicked Dewi a look before continuing. “So, you return to the bag, and it’s still there. What happened then?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve told you this, before.”
“I know.” She nodded, rubbing her chin. “I’d like you to remind me.”
“We weren’t sure what to do, at first. We could have left it there, hoping the owner would still return, but Eifion thought something might have happened to them, and we ought to report it to police.”
“You didn’t look inside the bag?”
“No, we didn’t. We considered it, but decided against it, in case something bad had happened to the owner.”
“But, if you had searched inside, maybe you could have found a phone number or an address for the owner?”
“Someone… Eifion, I think, thought it would be a bad idea to look inside, and we ought to report it without interfering. So, that’s what we did. We told police where to find it, then continued on our way. We thought no more about it, until you called us in here the last time.”
“I see.”
“What was the second thing you wanted to ask me?”
“My second question concerns Kyle Davies.”
“Kyle?” Alfie’s brow furrowed.
“Did you know him?”
“I knew of him, yes. I’d seen him around. Is his death linked to the others?”
“We don’t know.” She wasn’t giving anything away at this stage. “But, he was a victim of bullying at your school. Do you know anything about that?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“What about Brianna Horton? Did you know her?”
“Yes… I knew she was seeing Kyle.”
“And, what did you think about that?”
He shrugged. “Each to his own. I didn’t have an opinion about it.”
“What about your friends?”
“I don’t know.” He narrowed his eyes. “You’d have to ask them.”
“How often did you go shooting at Ieuan’s farm?”
“I don’t know… Not that often. A few times a year?”
“Have you ever seen Ieuan with guns when his father wasn’t around?”
“No.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Yes.”
“Did you or your friends bully Kyle Davies?”
“No.”
“Maybe because he was seeing Brianna?”
“Look, I don’t know what you are thinking, but I can tell you I had nothing to do with Kyle and Brianna’s death. Or anyone else's.” He folded his arms. “Can I go, now? I’m tired, and I have stuff to do.”
She saw no reason to keep him. His story was consistent and agreed with that of Eifion. “Yes, we’ll be in touch.”
Yvonne took her time arranging the papers for Ieuan Jones’ second interview, while he and his father waited in reception. Carwyn had been difficult the last time she saw him, refusing permission for them to examine his guns. If he declined again, she would inform him that a court warrant had been requested, because his vehicle was seen on the Ridgeway on the evening of the Paynes’ murder, and that Ieuan had admitted to being there.
Once the younger Jones was seated, she wasted no time getting stuck in. “Good afternoon, Ieuan.”
He sat with his arms folded, eyes flicking between his father and the detective, as though unsure of what to expect.
“You’re probably wondering why I’ve asked you back here.”
“We are,” Carwyn answered for his son, scowling at the detective. “We have work to be doing at the farm.”
“I’m sure.” She kept her tone calm and even. “There are a couple of things I need to clarify, if I may. The first, is how well you knew Kyle Davies and Brianna Horton? I understand they were pupils at your sixth-form college?”
Ieuan jerked his head back. “I thought this was about me driving the truck up the Ridgeway?”
She nodded. “Yes, I want to talk to you about that but I would still appreciate an answer to my question.”
“I knew them.” He ran both hands over his cropped blonde hair. “I wouldn’t say I knew them that well, but I spoke to them occasionally.”
“Okay… Were you aware of Kyle having difficulties with anyone?”
“Difficulties?” He frowned.
“Was Kyle being bullied?”
Ieuan swallowed, shooting his dad a look before returning his attention to the DI. “Kyle could be… well… He wasn’t perfect, okay?”
He threw his hands up with the last, springing backwards in his chair.
The DI pursed her lips at his obvious irritation. “In what way was he not perfect?”
“He was a show-off. Whenever anyone said they had done something, or received something, he’d always go one better. He was always boasting.”
“Did you fall out with him over it?”
“We might have had words a few times.”
“Really? Kyle’s parents believe their son was being bullied. Is that true?”
Ieuan shrugged.
“Did you ever take part in picking on him?”
Ieuan glanced at his father.
“Now look here.” Carwyn brought his hand down hard on the table. “My boy is no bully.”
“I appreciate your input, Mister Jones, but I am asking your son.”
“Nobody was picking on Kyle.” Ieuan folded his arms. “If we said anything to him, it was to stop his outrageous boasting. It got on everyone’s nerves.”
“Did you know Brianna?”
“Not very well.”
“Were you jealous of Kyle’s relationship with her?”
“No, why should I have been? I didn’t fancy her, if that is what you were thinking.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Where were you, on the night Kyle and Brianna were murdered?”
“He was at home with us.” Carwyn spat the words.
“I asked your son, Mister Jones.”
“I was at home, like dad says.”
“Were you home all evening?”
“Yes.”
“Can anyone else verify that?”
“My mum.”
“Okay.” She tapped her pen on her palm before addressing Ieuan’s dad. “We’d like to see the guns that you hold. You’ll be aware that, as part of your gun licence conditions, you must provide them for inspection if police require it.”
“Have you got a warrant?”
“One has been requested. We should have it by tomorrow morning. May I ask why you would insist on us having one? Do you have something to hide?”
Carwyn frowned. “I don’t like your suspicions falling on my child.”
“I’m sorry, but it is our job to make enquiries following a murder. We clear many more people than we convict. Absolving Ieuan from any involvement in these crimes, could be as easy as examining your weapons.”
Ieuan’s dad fell silent.
“May we inspect your shotguns, Mister Jones?”
He sighed. “I’ll bring them in later today.”
“Thank you.” The DI turned her attention back to Ieuan.
He shifted in his seat.
“May I ask you one more question, Ieuan?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
“Was Eifion crushing on Brianna? Was that the reason for your group’s animosity towards Kyle Davies?”
Ieuan’s nostrils flared, colour rose in his cheeks, and his hands clenched. “It’s not my place to answer that ques
tion.” He gave her a look of disdain.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “That will be all.”
22
Lost and found
“Ma’am…” Dai approached them in the corridor, out of breath, pen tucked behind his ear. “I thought you would want to know that they’ve found Jason Timms.”
“What? Where?”
“They pulled him out of the River Severn, at St. Giles.”
She looked at Dewi. “We’d better get down there.”
He nodded. “What’s the odds he’s been shot?”
The St. Giles golf course and industrial estate lay along the River Severn, in Newtown, beyond the town’s main cemetery. A picturesque area, its backdrop comprised of the Cambrian Hills.
When Yvonne and Dewi arrived, divers had pulled their red dinghy onto the bank, with Jason’s body on board. SOCO had cordoned off the river path and areas of the golf course.
They approached a plastic-suited crime scene officer, flashing their badges.
“How long had he been in the water?” the DI asked.
“A week, maybe? It’s hard to tell until we have the full examination. But, one thing I would say, I don’t think he was in the water for much longer than that, and certainly not for the four weeks he’s been missing. In this heat? He would be in a worse state than he is. Bloating has only just begun.”
“Did he drown?” She cast her eyes towards the dinghy.
“He was shot at least twice in the chest with a shotgun. He likely died from his injuries before he hit the water, but Hanson will know for sure, once he’s looked at the lungs.”
“Of course.”
“Oh, and you should know that his wrists are damaged. We think he was restrained.”
Her eyes narrowed. “He was tied up?”
He nodded. “I believe so. Why don’t you suit up and have a look? I’ve got to take swabs, I can show you some injuries as I go.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Dewi returned from the Crime Scene Investigation van with the hazmat suits.
Once covered, they followed the SOCO officer to the boat.
The victim’s face and belly had bloated, but his head had also sustained considerable damage, as evidenced by cuts and bruising.
“Some of the facial injuries may have occurred as his body was dragged down river. But the bruising was likely sustained before he was shot.”
The Wilderness Murders: DI Giles Book 16 (DI Giles Suspense Thriller Series) Page 11
