by Conrad Jones
CHAPTER 48
Alan stepped into the operations room at Holyhead police station. It was like the Marie Celeste; everyone was involved in the search across the island. Kim was at her desk; she’d been on the phone to senior officers at Caernarfon and St Asaph. She hung up as Alan approached.
‘How did you get on?’ he asked.
‘There were forty-five officers actually on the farm when Hudson bolted but only eight officers in the cordon of the farmhouse itself.’
‘I want all eight spoken to informally today. I want to know who was next to who and anything they can remember,’ Alan said. ‘Their reporting officers should know them well enough to recognise any signs of deceit.’
‘What if whoever helped Hudson wasn’t part of the cordon?’ Kim asked. ‘You know what I mean?’
‘Yes. Not one of the eight.’
‘Yes. It was dark. Anyone in uniform could have slipped through.’
‘You’re right but we have to start somewhere. Let’s speak to them all and take it from there. Anything out of the ordinary, we’ll dig further.’ He looked at the list of names. ‘I recognise three of them,’ he said.
‘Which three?’ Kim asked.
‘Him, him, and her,’ Alan said, pointing to the screen. ‘I’ve known those men for years. They’re career officers and she’s a good copper, but I don’t think we need to worry about her; she’s tiny.’
‘Meaning she couldn’t carry Hudson out of the woods?’
‘Physically, she might be able to, but I’d doubt it. I was thinking more about the boot prints. There’s no way she’s a size eleven boot unless she’s a Hobbit and I would have noticed if she was.’
‘They’re all on shifts today except, Dave Gooch and Sam Strydhorst; Dave is on holiday for a week, he’s going abroad, and Sam called in sick.’
‘Sick?’ Alan asked. ‘The biggest manhunt in our history is happening on the doorstep and he’s sick. It’s a good job he’s not in our team. He’d be polishing boots in the changing rooms for the next ten years.’
‘I don’t think HR would allow that nowadays,’ Kim said, shaking her head. ‘You can’t discipline someone for being ill anymore.’
‘Really?’ Alan said.
‘Yep. And you can’t make people polish boots either.’
‘This is why the force is falling apart. You can’t punish officers who ring in with a sicknote; no wonder the country is a mess,’ Alan joked.
‘We can’t punish anyone. Punish is an outdated word. Antiquated in fact.’
‘Antiquated?’
‘Yep.’
‘Bugger.’ Alan shook his head. ‘No more punishing people?’
‘Nope.’
‘Seriously though, he needs to be spoken to, sick or not. Who is his CO?’
‘John Deans.’
‘Okay. Speak to him. I’ll be in the car. Call me if you hear anything.’
***
Whacky weighed up the situation. He couldn’t see a bright side. Joss was straining at the bit to free himself from the chair. He walked into the office to speak to him.
‘What do you want?’ Joss asked. ‘Fucking snake. If you know what’s good for you, you’d be off the island by now.’
‘I don’t want to leave you to starve death,’ Whacky said, gesturing to the ropes. ‘I watched them tie you up. You’re not getting out of that chair without help.’
‘You don’t need to worry about me,’ Joss said, angrily. ‘I’ll get out of here and when I do, you’re a dead man.’
‘Another one?’ Whacky said. ‘There are five of them in there. What are you going to do with them?’
‘Build a bonfire,’ Joss said.
‘That would smell too much.’
‘I’ll think of something.’
‘We could help you get free and get rid of them. This is going to take some cleaning up,’ Whacky said.
‘You’ve changed your tune. Have you forgotten who ratted?’
‘I didn’t do it for the money. They were leaning on me.’
‘Leaning on you? Are you going to give me a sob story?’ Joss spat on the floor. ‘You make me sick.’
‘Be like that if you want to but it’s true. I did a lot of work for them a few years back. They paid me cash and I never declared it. Not a penny of it but they’ve got it all documented, invoices, payslips, everything. They heard rumours you were in the importing business and leaned on me to tell them when the next shipment was coming in.’
‘My heart bleeds,’ Joss said. ‘So, you stabbed your mate in the back to avoid a tax bill?’
‘It’s a lot of money and they would have fined me as much as I owed. It would have broken me. I would have lost the farm. It’s all I’ve got.’
‘Crying shame, it is,’ Joss said, smirking. ‘Did you think they would give you a share and you could go home and put your slippers on?’
‘Something like that. I didn’t see this happening.’
‘What were you thinking? They were going to shoot all three of us.’
‘What?’
‘Igor Karpov told your friends Kevin and Dale to shoot all of us and leave no witnesses.’ Whacky looked forlorn. ‘Did you think they were really your friends? Idiot.’
‘No. But I thought I could give them what they wanted without anyone getting hurt. I didn’t expect this.’
‘Unlucky.’
‘I didn’t think it through.’
‘How did that work out for you?’
‘Shit, obviously.’
‘And what’s your excuse?’ he said turning to Naz.
‘He didn’t know anything about this,’ Whacky said. ‘He called me and asked me to cover you at the quarry. He was worried the Karpovs would turn up mobhanded. It was me that told them where the exchange would happen.’
‘Why would he ask you to help?’ Joss asked. ‘It was him who told me you’d worked for them,’ Joss said. ‘So, that’s bullshit.’
‘We needed help,’ Naz said.
‘We’ve all made mistakes here. Let us help you clean up here,’ Wacky said. ‘And we’ll start again with a clean slate.’
‘Just like that.’
‘It can be. It’s your call.’
‘Okay. Untie me,’ Joss said.
‘I don’t believe him,’ Naz said.
‘What are you talking about?’ Whacky said.
‘If we untie him, he’ll kill us both. You know what he’s like. He never lets anything go. He’s like a dog with a bone.’ Naz walked out of the office.
‘Stop whining. You little bitch,’ Joss shouted after him. ‘Come on. Untie me,’ he said to Whacky. Whacky hesitated. ‘Hurry up. Come on. Untie me. I’m losing my temper here.’
‘Don’t untie him,’ Naz said, returning. He had a Glock in his hand. It hung by his right leg. ‘I want some assurances before he gets out of that chair.’
‘What are you going to do with that?’ Joss asked. His lips curled into a snarl. ‘You’ve never shot anyone in your life and you’re not going to start now.’
‘You’ve just been had off for everything you own. We’ve known each other for a long time, and I know what you’re like. You won’t just let this go.’
‘Okay, smart-arse. What do you want?’
‘Nothing. You lost everything so I don’t expect anything but I’m not running away from you for the rest of my life.’
‘He’s got a point,’ Whacky said. ‘I’m too old to be on the run. I want to go back to my land with nothing hanging over me.’
‘Who ripped you off?’ Naz asked. ‘I thought you had a way to verify the gear before it’s sealed.’
‘Okay. I’ll be honest with you. I haven’t been ripped off. Let me out of this chair and I’ll level with you.’
‘What do you mean, you haven’t been ripped off?’ Whacky asked.
‘The gear is full of talc.’
‘It’s not talc. It’s lime.’
‘Lime?’
‘Yes. Anwen uses tons of it at the museum.’
>
‘Are you saying you swapped your own gear?’
‘Yes. Karpov was getting twitchy. I needed a back-up plan. We swapped a dozen or so packages and put them to one side; just as a safety measure. If Igor had me off, I had something to fall back on. If it all went to plan and he took the tow truck off the island still sealed, I would have come clean and given him the real gear before they cut the gear out.’
‘When did you swap it?’ Naz asked, confused.
‘Every time you had a cigarette.’
‘When I was outside?’
‘Yes.’ Joss gestured to the packages. ‘Most of that is good stuff. We can still make a lot of money. Untie me and I’ll forget what’s happened. We shift the gear and go back to building Landies.’ The welders looked at each other. ‘And you need to put that gun down before you shoot yourself in the foot.’ Whacky took a blade from the workbench and cut through the ropes. Joss stretched and rubbed his wrists. His face was bruised and swollen. He looked at his reflection in the glass. ‘Look at the state of me,’ he said.
‘They weren’t supposed to hurt you.’
‘It didn’t hurt. My mum hits harder than that.’ Joss looked into the unit. The smell of gunpowder tinged the air. ‘What are we going to do with that lot?’ Joss asked. He looked perplexed. ‘Getting rid of five bodies will take some doing.’
‘We need to do it quickly. Do you still have a contact at the smelter?’ Naz asked.
‘Yes,’ Joss said, nodding. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking of putting all the bodies into the back of a transit. We’ll weld a false floor over them and then take it to the smelter.’ Naz put the Glock on the desk and held out his hand. ‘We get rid of the lot in one go and there’s no trace of them whatsoever.’
‘Great idea,’ Whacky agreed. He held out his hand too. ‘We can come out of this smelling of roses.’
Joss smiled and stepped towards them. He shook their hands and nodded. ‘We’ll use the blue Ford from the back car park. It’s a good idea. Let’s get it in here and cut a new floorplan. They’re beginning to stink the place out.’
CHAPTER 49
Sam parked the car out of sight. He took the shovel from the boot and walked around the corner to the mudflats. The fisherman had reached the burial site and was busy digging; his earphones were masking Sam’s approach. It was raining heavily; the light was fading, and the promenade was deserted. The fisherman was oblivious. He stopped digging when he reached the ashes and sifted through the sludge with his spade. Sam was close when the man bent down and retrieved a tooth. He picked it up and washed it in the seawater and then held it up to the light. When he realised what it was, he turned around, in a hurry to get back to his van. He came face to face with Sam.
Sam hit him in the face with the shovel, breaking his jaw, his nose, and his skull. Teeth were catapulted into the air, landing in the mud surrounding them. He toppled backwards like a felled tree; instinct made him try to escape. He turned onto his front and crawled away, but Sam was between him and the shore. The only way he could go was into the deeper water. Sam brought the shovel down on the back of his head, crushing his skull. His legs twitched violently, and his fingers clawed at the mud. Another blow stopped him moving at all and the final blow burst his head like a melon, spilling his brains like pink porridge into the Menai Straits. The current washed the contents of his skull away quickly while Sam dug a water filled trench a foot deep, wide enough to bury him. He shoved his body into the hole and covered him with mud. The tide had turned, and the water was lapping at Sam’s boots, above the ankle now. He tossed the shovel into the deeper water and watched the current take it away. The walk back to the shore was taxing; his boots were going deep into the mud, which sucked at them, trying to pull them off. The advancing tide was moving quickly, threatening to cut him off from the beach.
When he reached the shingle, he was exhausted but the walk to the promenade became easier. He sat down on a bench and thought about what to do next. If he could fend off her parents until the following day, he could make a solid plan. Mathew Hudson was a problem. He could hear a mobile phone ringing; he recognised it straight away. The phone was in the car. It was Llinos’ and he could hazard a guess as to who was calling.
CHAPTER 50
Later that day, Gwillam and Wendy were sitting in the Sea Shanty in Trearddur Bay, picking over their food. Their conversation had been minimal; both of them upset with Sam’s behaviour. Mary was insulted that Llinos had left specific instructions not to let her into the surgery. She was also very hurt by the fact she drove Llinos around the bend; their relationship had always been strained but as Llinos matured, the rift mended or at least, that’s what she thought. Since adolescence, she’d never felt that she got on her nerves; they’d become friends again and very close.
Things had been different when she was growing up. There was an argument every week, usually at the weekend when Llinos was either late home or didn’t come home at all. She was sexually active from an early age and despite her mother’s advice, she seemed to have no filters and she talked openly about her exploits. As a schoolgirl, she managed to keep her behaviour in check through the week and academically, she excelled. She could hold her grades without much effort. She was intelligent and articulate and popular, although she hardly socialised within her own age group. She certainly had no interest in boys of her own age. They were far too inexperienced and immature. From fifteen onwards, most of her boyfriends were older and had cars and their own accommodation. Wendy tried everything but Llinos wasn’t for turning; she did what she wanted when she wanted to. Gwillam stepped in and tried to put his foot down but quickly found out that Llinos couldn’t be tamed. She was defiant and didn’t really care about their childish discipline; in her mind, she was way beyond being told what she was allowed to do. When they said she was grounded, she would go out and not go home for days. They tried to keep her in check by cutting off her allowance, but it didn’t work. Her boyfriends had money and she was manipulative enough not to need her own.
Following one massive argument, Wendy called her a ‘revolting slut’ and an ‘embarrassment to the family.’ Llinos reacted by listing who she’d actually slept with, which was a list much longer than Wendy expected. It also included the vicar of the parish church which Wendy attended every Sunday, the husbands of several family friends, the postman, and the landlord of their local pub. Shortly after that, Llinos moved in with her grandfather at the farm and he guided her through college and onto veterinary school. She remained a wild one but became skilled at being discrete. Her relationship with her parents healed over the years. She was intelligent enough to realise the impact her behaviour had had on her parents, who were only trying to protect her. Wendy put her feelings of shame behind her and embraced the older more balanced Llinos. Being told that she drove Llinos round the bend had opened old wounds. Sam had hit a nerve which hadn’t been touched for years.
‘How’s your belly pork?’ Gwillam asked.
‘Oriental,’ Wendy said. ‘It’s very nice. How’s your steak?’
‘Lovely,’ Gwillam said. ‘I like it in here.’
‘You like it anywhere they serve sirloin,’ Wendy said. She smiled and sipped her chardonnay. ‘I’m so upset.’
‘I know you are. Don’t be too upset. Sam wasn’t himself.’
‘He was downright rude. I’ve never understood what she saw in him. He’s always miserable and she’s always been such a dynamo, full of energy and mischief.’
‘Mischief is an understatement. She was uncontrollable.’
‘It was a phase. I often wonder if it was our fault she went off the rails.’
‘We can’t blame ourselves. She was just a wild child experimenting with life. She found her way, eventually.’
‘Do you think I drive Llinos round the bend?’
‘No. Of course, you don’t. She calls you every five minutes and you chat for hours on the phone. She wouldn’t talk to you if you drove her round
the bend. Llinos isn’t one to suffer fools gladly.’
‘Do I drive you around the bend?’
‘No. Don’t be silly.’
‘I’ll try to call her again,’ Wendy said, looking at her mobile. She called her daughter’s number. ‘She’s not answering her phone,’ Wendy said. ‘It’s just ringing out.’
‘She’s probably still working. Don’t worry.’
‘I want to go and talk to her. I need to see her face and ask her if I drive her around the bend.’
‘You’re being silly.’
‘I might be, but I want to ask her just the same.’
‘Okay. Finish your food and drink your wine and we’ll go back to the farm. Sam said he was going back to work in an hour so, he won’t be there. We’ll go and see her and put your mind at rest.’
CHAPTER 51
Mathew could feel the fog of drugs clearing and the sharp teeth of pain were beginning to bite. His eye socket was aching and there was a burning pain behind it. His leg was starting to hurt too; the throbbing in his ankle was sickening. He needed more morphine. His eyes opened and it was dark. The lights were out, and the theatre was empty. He felt angry and alone. They’d left him to his own devices. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked around. His movement triggered a motion sensor and the lights flickered on. The bottle of morphine that Llinos had used was on the trolley nearby. He’d seen where she took the syringe from. Walking across the room would be agonising. She might be within earshot.
‘Llinos. I need more pain relief,’ he called. There was no reply. He sat up and a bolt of pain shot through his head. He touched the dressing over his eye with his fingertips. The pressure made the pain subside a little; the real pain was deep inside. ‘Llinos. Are you there?’ he called louder. There was no response. He swung his legs over the edge of the trolley and grimaced at the pangs which shot from his foot, up his leg and into his hip. He waited for the wave of pain to subside before moving. The morphine was only a few steps away and he needed the numbness it provided; he needed it desperately. He lowered himself onto his good foot and balanced on it. The strapping on his injured leg offered some support. He hopped to the medicine trolley and picked up the morphine. The syringes were in a drawer behind it. He unwrapped one and drew the liquid from the vial. Llinos had injected it slowly at a shallow angle. He mimicked what she’d done and felt the sharp scratch as the needle went in. The morphine coursed through his veins and he felt the relief almost immediately. He made it back onto the trolley before it really kicked in. He closed his eyes and let the feeling flow over him. As he drifted off, the headlights of a car illuminated the wall in the room beyond. He heard the engine and then a car door close and the sound of footsteps approaching and then he was asleep.
