The Anglesey Murders Box Set

by Conrad Jones

  ‘That’s a lot of money,’ Alice said. ‘Let’s get it out of there and to the lab.’ She walked to the next site. The four officers repeated the process but the lid was stuck. One of them cleared some earth away to reveal bolts, which were rusted solid. ‘It’s been sealed. Get a grinder on those bolts.’

  Fifteen minutes later, the irritating noise of metal grinding metal filled the air. Sparks flew from the wheel. It started to rain again, and the wind picked up. Alice felt uneasy about what was in the second dig. The bolts were cut free and they tried to prise the lid again. It came free with a sucking sound. Alice looked inside. The decomposed body of a woman was curled up in a few feet of water. The decomp was advanced. Next to her was a handbag. One of the officers lifted the bag with a spade and placed it on the grass. Alice pulled on a pair of gloves and poked around inside. She spotted the pink colour of a driving license and looked at the degraded text.

  ‘This is Patricia Price, Glen Price’s wife. Simon and Kerry said they saw her in the bedroom window of their home. Whoever they saw, it wasn’t Patricia,’ Alice said. ‘Now, that puts a different slant on things. Better get the boss on the phone.’

  CHAPTER 54

  Alan arrived home after ten o’clock. The lights were on, which was a bonus. He wanted a hot shower. His bones were aching. The dogs were performing their usual rowdy greeting and he could see Dan sitting on the settee with Fflur. He climbed out of the BMW and grabbed his shopping. Two bottles of whisky and a tuna and sweetcorn sandwich from the whoopsie aisle. His prize item of the day was a black cherry trifle for one, which was half price. He was looking forward to it so much, he was willing to leave the sandwich in the fridge for the next day. His appetite was crap at the best of times but at the end of a long day with a large scotch in his hand, it was virtually non-existent. He had to discipline himself to eat something, even if it was trifle. It might not be on the most nutritious list but it was better than nothing. Man cannot live on tea and whisky alone although he had tried.

  He opened the front door which was on the latch as usual. Dan let the dogs out of the living room and they sprinted down the hallway, a noisy melee of fur and teeth. They jumped and circled him as he edged his way into the kitchen with Henry clinging to his trouser leg. He opened the patio doors and the dogs forgot him and bolted across the field into the darkness. Alan put his sandwich and the trifle into the fridge and poured an inch of whisky into a crystal tumbler. He swallowed it in one gulp and poured another two inches. He was enjoying the burning liquid when his phone buzzed.

  ‘Hello, Alice,’ he answered.

  ‘Pamela Stone has confirmed the body is Patricia Price. She’s been there for years rather than months.’

  ‘No wonder Glen Price was so squirrelly. Have they found him yet?’

  ‘Simon and Kerry are over there now. The local plod are going to breach tonight but they’re convinced the place is empty and his Porsche is missing.’

  ‘What about the money?’

  ‘They’re still counting it.’

  ‘Good work, Alice. Get some sleep and we’ll catch up tomorrow.’

  ‘Okay, guv. See you tomorrow.’ She ended the call, and he felt tired, worn down by it all. He sighed and filled up his glass.

  ‘Hiya, Dad,’ Dan said from behind him. ‘How’s the investigation going?’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m the right man to ask, I’m only in charge of it. If you want to know how it’s going, you’ll have to ask the BBC.’

  ‘It’s not going well then?’

  ‘It’s going as well as it can be without someone walking into the station and confessing to everything. It’s just the way these things go. It’s complicated,’ Alan said, filling the dog’s water bowl. ‘We’re making progress slowly. Have you lost any more friends today because I’ve been out and about detecting things?’

  ‘No. Look, I’m sorry about that. We were being selfish. I’ve felt bad all day.’

  ‘So, you should,’ Alan said. ‘You’re a selfish brat. Who do you think you are, buying the electric all the time and making sure I’ve got milk in the fridge for my coffee in the morning?’ He handed Dan two twenty-pound notes. ‘Here’s the forty pounds towards what I owe you. Sorry it’s late. I called at the shop on the way home and took it out of the cash machine. That was all it would give me. Jack’s got more money than me and I’m a grown up.’ Dan took the money and hugged his dad. ‘How’s your day been at the university?’

  ‘Crap. It’s always the same this time of year. The students’ rents are due for their final term but they’ve spent all their money on beer. I spend most of my time explaining to the parents the reason why their child is going to be evicted from their halls of residence is because they can’t pay the rent. The standard answer is, “they gave them the money for the rent already”, and I have to explain that their child didn’t give it to us. They drank it.’

  ‘Funny. I’m glad my kids haven’t cost me any money,’ Alan said sipping the whisky. He frowned and Dan smiled. ‘Well, that’s a lie but you know what I mean.’

  ‘So, did you do what you said you were going to do?’

  ‘What did I say I was going to do?’

  ‘You said you were going to arrest the dealers in town today?’

  ‘Some of them. Some of them used their brain and answered our questions and we let them go. The ones who didn’t answer are in the cells, sweating about being interviewed tomorrow.’

  ‘Who did you lock up?’ Dan asked. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, nervously. ‘Anyone we’d know?’

  ‘Probably. Everyone knows everyone.’ Dan looked worried. ‘Why don’t you tell me who you’re worried about and I’ll tell you if I’ve heard their name on the list?’

  ‘I don’t know many of them. Only my friend who sells us weed.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘His wife is flapping because he hasn’t gone home. She thinks he might have had an accident or something,’ Dan said, dodging the question. ‘I didn’t have the heart to tell her he might be banged up.’

  ‘If you don’t tell me his name, I can’t help you, can I?’

  ‘Lee,’ Dan said.

  ‘Lee Punk?’ Alan asked. Dan nodded. ‘Text his wife and tell her he’s safely locked up in the cells and he’ll be home before lunchtime tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad,’ Dan said. He took out his phone and sent a text. ‘How are you getting on with the other murders?’

  ‘That’s a different conversation. One I don’t want to have tonight,’ Alan said. ‘In fact, I don’t want to think about it at all.’ He emptied the glass and refilled it before walking into the living room. Fflur had gone to bed, he assumed as she wasn’t on the settee which was good as he wanted to sprawl. He sat down with a sigh and put his feet up on the table. It wasn’t long before his exhausted mind switched off, his eyes closed, and he fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 55

  Kim checked her email. There was a reply from Kingdom Security. Two of their employees were on the island when Brian Hindley was murdered but they were handing out on the spot fines in Beaumaris and Red Wharf Bay at the time. The paperwork would back that up if necessary. They also confirmed that they had no employees currently residing in Holyhead or on Anglesey. Data protection made it impossible for them to be more specific about past employees. She folded the laptop away and went into the kitchen. It was time to relax.

  He watched as Kim poured a glass of red wine. She sipped from the glass and then licked her lips. Her hair was pulled on top of her head into a bun, still wet from her shower. The dressing gown she was wearing was open to her chest, revealing her cleavage. She was doing it on purpose to tease him. There was no doubt about it. Her skin had a sheen. She’d applied some kind of lotion to it. He wondered what she smelled like, how her skin would feel to his touch, and how she would react when his hands were on her. Would she struggle against him or panic and freeze? It would be a true voyage of discovery when the time came. The clock was ticking and it wo
uldn’t be long now. It had taken time to plan. It wouldn’t be a random opportunity snatched at, grasped and taken gratefully like the others—it wouldn’t be like them at all. She would be so special. So very special. He wanted to have time with her not because she was attractive and he desired her, but because she was the opposition and she must be destroyed. He would enjoy that. It was a battle of wits between the detectives and him. A battle that he would win. He would win because he had no boundaries and they wouldn’t expect him to come for them. There were no constraints on the way he played the game but she had to play by the rules. That was her weakness, the chink in her armour. Without her detective sergeant badge, she was just a woman. He was bigger and stronger; he had a knife and he was mentally unstable. Some might think that was a disadvantage but they would be wrong. Although he had a plan, it was unlikely he would stick to it when the time came, but that was okay. Sometimes he slipped into a frenzy without knowing. He couldn’t help it. Whatever course it took, it would be a scintillating voyage of discovery, exploring her body, smelling her, penetrating her, tasting her, eating her and then dismantling her body bit by bit. That was the plan and it was a beautiful plan, so beautiful it brought tears to his eyes. He couldn’t wait but he would have to. There were things to be done first and then she would be his. His forever.

  She closed the blinds and his view of her was gone. He felt robbed. There was a glow inside him which had been extinguished suddenly and now he felt barren. The vivid thoughts he was having had turned to black and white and then vanished. Anger replaced them and began to grow inside him. She was a prick tease and he would punish her for that. The anger increased. He knew it would fester until it was released through the knife. All the anger and frustration filtered through him, into the steel and into the victim. They would feel the hatred as they bled. He checked his watch. It was past midnight. He walked back to his vehicle and climbed inside. There was somewhere he needed to be.

  CHAPTER 56

  Tony pulled into the car park at South Stack lighthouse. It serviced the café at the top of the mountain and was popular with walkers and climbers. Ellin’s Tower glowed white in the moonlight. Hundreds of feet below, the sea glimmered and the beam from the lighthouse turned relentlessly. It was late and there was no one around. Even the star gazers and sexual deviants had gone home to bed. There were three cars and a motorbike parked at the far end of the car park. The cars were full, windows down, cannabis smoke spiralling upwards towards the stars. No one cared about the police coming. There was one road up the mountain and one road down and headlights could be seen from miles away. Ancient tribes had lived there because of its panoramic viewpoint. No one could approach without being seen. It made the perfect place for a secret powwow.

  He pulled over and parked up next to the vehicles. The men stopped chatting and got out of their respective vehicles. He knew all the faces, some were friendly, some enemies but they all had something common tonight. Old rivalries were put to one side while they fought a common enemy—the police. It was a gathering of the island’s more notorious players—the men who didn’t work nine to five jobs and made a living on the edge but were not far enough up the ladder to be driving a Porsche or wear a Rolex. They were held together by a fragile peace, a peace which was threatened by the investigation. He approached them and shook hands with each one in turn. There were fourteen of them from all over the island. It was enough people to make sure the word was passed on to as many people as possible. Bad news travelled fast on the island.

  ‘You all know what’s going on in town?’ Tony asked. The men nodded.

  ‘Dibble are everywhere, man.’ Someone moaned. ‘It’s bad for business.’

  ‘I’ve heard they’re lifting anyone who’s so much as smoked a spliff?’ another said.

  ‘I heard it’s something to do with the dead coppers they pulled out of the bay.’

  ‘It is,’ Tony said. ‘It’s not random. They’re working through a list of drug buys the undercover coppers made before they were snuffed. I’ve heard they made a lot while they were here. Chances are, we’ll all be pulled in at some point. The Dibble are asking questions about the supply line. They’re looking for whoever killed the undercover cops and they’re assuming it was someone at the top of the tree.’

  ‘Your boss must be shitting his pants,’ a man from across the island said. Tony felt like slapping him down but this wasn’t the time for butting horns.

  ‘That’s why we’re all here,’ another said. ‘He wants us to cover his arse for him.’

  ‘Listen to me,’ Tony said. ‘They think they know who is who and who is responsible but they can’t prove it yet. The Dibble are going nowhere until they catch the killers. They could be here for months arresting people, ruining your businesses. If that’s what you want, then get in your cars and go now.’ No one moved. ‘If we all stick to the same line, we’ll be fine. You’ve all had the text from Jamie’s burner phone?’ Everyone nodded. ‘Okay. Delete it. Stick to that and the Dibble will be gone in a week.’

  ‘You think it will be that simple?’

  ‘No. Jamie has a plan.’

  ‘What’s the plan?’

  ‘I don’t know but it doesn’t matter. You do your part and we’ll do the rest.’

  ‘He’d better remember this when it’s all over.’

  ‘He will. Are we all agreed?’ Tony asked. The gathering nodded they were, some more reluctantly than others. ‘Good, thanks for coming. Any problems, you know how to get hold of me.’

  Tony walked back to his car and watched as the others started their engines and drove out of the car park. It was a mile down the mountain to the bottom. At the end the mountain road, they turned in different directions and drove off into the night. Tony wasn’t sure what would happen but the next few days would tell.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Jamie checked the mirror. They were there again, following him. The vehicle was a long way back, but it was there. He knew they were tracking him. They’d been tracking him for years. They thought he didn’t know but he did. He’d known after a tipoff on day one. It paid to have men on the force. The operation into his network was advanced and detailed but all they had was mundane day-to-day chitchat. He was sure there were audio devices planted here and there, so he made sure nothing was discussed indoors. They swept their vehicles and the pub for electronic bugging devices every few months so as not to raise suspicion. It was standard practice in his business. So far, they’d found four. The search was all part of the dance with the authorities. If they swept for devices too often, the Dibble would be panicked into acting, not enough and they would be sure they were onto them.

  He slowed down enough to make them think he was stopping and then sped up around the corner and closed the gap on a vehicle ahead of him. The surveillance team would just see the headlights and think it was him. Turning into a field, he killed the lights. A few minutes later, the surveillance vehicle drove past the entrance and carried on around the bends ahead following the wrong vehicle. The road was too narrow to turn a car around. They would have to drive miles before they realised it wasn’t his car and that he’d slipped their tail.

  Jamie reversed onto the road and drove a few hundred yards before hiding the Range Rover in a copse of trees. He climbed out and went to the boot, opening it, he reached in and removed a spade and some bin bags. The contents of the bags were light, and he set off through the trees. The wind blew and made the branches sway, creaking noises surrounded him. He stopped and looked around to make sure no one was following him. If he screwed this up, he would go to jail for life. The wind dropped and the noises subsided. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he was sure he was alone. He set off again into the night, unable to use the torch on his phone. It was too risky. His sense of direction was good, and he’d been along this path before. It was fifteen minutes before he reached the building. He could hear the hum of electricity and the smell of cannabis tainted the air. This was an insurance policy he’d taken out year
s before and now it was time to make a claim. It wouldn’t take long to do what he needed to do and then he could go home and sleep tightly. He made a call on his mobile and then started digging.

  CHAPTER 57

  He watched the toilet block for hours just as his father had years before. Peter Moore had attacked over twenty men on Pensarn Beach, stabbing many of them, sexually assaulting some, eventually killing four of them. If the assaults, sexual or otherwise had been reported to the police, his father would have been caught much sooner. It was his fourth victim; this last murder led to his arrest. He left blood at the scene, a schoolboy error if there was one. His entire killing spree had been reckless and unplanned. It was little wonder he only managed to kill four before he was caught. How could he have been so stupid to leave DNA at a murder scene? Had he panicked, been disturbed, or did he not know he was bleeding? This was one of the problems of choosing such a public place to commit such a heinous crime. That was the big difference between him and his father. He wouldn’t make such basic errors of judgement, that was a certainty. It was obvious that he was far more intelligent than his father or his mother. If they combined their IQ’s they wouldn’t be as clever as he was. His intellectual prowess was far superior to theirs. It was as clear as day that they were as thick as mince. He often wondered how they’d managed to produce a child with such intellect. The other thing he wondered about was his father’s sexuality.

  His father had targeted men, mostly cruising for casual sex. That was quite common with serial killers. So, had Dennis Nilsen and Jeffery Dahmer, who killed twenty-nine men between them. They trawled gay bars for their victims. He had to respect them. To get into double figures without being caught was an achievement in itself. He also had massive admiration for John Wayne Gacy, who sexually assaulted and killed thirty-three young men, but they were tricked into going back to his house rather than lured there for sex. He had a trick he did with a pair of handcuffs, putting them on himself, then escaping from them. He would then trick his victims by putting the cuffs on them and telling them he would teach them how to escape them. Once they were cuffed, he would pounce. Most of his victims were raped. Did that mean his father was gay or bisexual or was he into men sexually because they were more promiscuous and made easy targets? If things went wrong during an attack, his victims were unlikely to report an assault to the police or their families because they weren’t out of the closet. Reporting any type of sexual assault or a visit to the casualty department would beg the question, where were you and why were you there in the first place?