The Anglesey Murders Box Set

by Conrad Jones

  ‘God hates goths? Are you taking the piss?’ he snorted.

  ‘No, far from it.’ I sighed. ‘Google it when you get home. There are groups of Christian families campaigning against music that some believe has motivated teenagers to practice the occult and kill themselves and others. They attribute some of the recent school massacres to the messages in the music.’

  ‘Bollocks,’ Peter said. ‘That’s just stupid people trying to put the blame at someone else’s doorstep.’

  ‘Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. We can’t ask most of the shooters because they kill themselves in the act. What we do know is most of them are disenfranchised from society. They don’t fit in; They’re not popular. People say they’ve bought into the concept of chaos and maybe they have a point.’

  ‘Enlighten me,’ Peter mumbled.

  ‘Okay. I’ll try. Do you remember the Columbine massacre?’ I looked at him and he nodded. ‘Most goth websites hail the perpetrators of the massacre as heroes. It’s a fact that they both dabbled in the occult.’

  ‘You can’t blame a massacre on that,’ Peter said, shaking his head.

  ‘I’m not blaming anyone for anything. It’s all theory and speculation; all I’m telling you are the facts. There was a similar shooting at a place called Red Lake High School, carried out by a kid called Jeffrey Weise, which claimed ten victims and seven wounded.’ Peter was about to interrupt, but I held up my hand and carried on, ‘Let me finish or you won’t get the point.’

  ‘I’m not stupid,’ he snapped, glancing sideways.

  ‘I know, but if you look at this in isolation it means nothing. You have to follow the patterns. Please bear with me.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.’

  ‘I know it’s hard to believe, but keep an open mind,’ I said calmly. He nodded that he would try, although his face said a different thing. ‘There was a case at another school, Dawson College, which fortunately claimed only two victims, but nineteen were critically injured. Both of these ‘goth’ school shootings have one thing in common. All of the killers claimed the two shooters involved in the Columbine massacre, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, were their ‘heroes’, and they were both fascinated by the occult. The occult influence is undeniable.’

  ‘It’s a coincidence, that’s all it is. Like I said before, people trying to blame other people,’ Peter grunted. ‘What has that got to do with anything here?’

  ‘I like coincidences,’ I replied to the challenge. Debating things that I know a lot about is one of my favourite pastimes. ‘Did you know that the 19th of April is one of the most important dates in the satanic calendar?’

  ‘Funnily enough, I didn’t know they had a calendar,’ Peter said.

  ‘They do.’ I tried to keep him with me. ‘They have holy days just as the Christian calendar does. From the 19th of April a thirteen-day festival called the ‘Blood Sacrifice to the Beast’ begins, culminating on the 1st of May.’

  ‘How do you know all this stuff?’ he asked. He was laughing, but there was little humour in his laugh.

  ‘Remember those dates,’ I pointed my finger at him. ‘Many believe that Adolf Hitler was sent by the devil, and on the 19th of April 1943, Nazi storm-troopers incinerated the last few Jewish freedom-fighters in Warsaw.’

  ‘Oh, come on.’ Peter groaned. ‘Now you’re pushing it.’

  I ignored his complaint and carried on.

  ‘Precisely fifty years later to the day, the siege at Waco ended with eighty-three dead. In occult gematria, the number five is the number for death.’ Peter was going to speak again, but my raised hand stopped him once more. ‘19th of April 1995, precisely twenty-four months to the day after Waco, a huge bomb devastated the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City.’

  ‘Like I said, coincidence.’

  ‘24th of April 1998, a goth shooter struck in Pennsylvania.’

  ‘Coincidence.’

  ‘20th of April 1999, avowed Satanists struck in Columbine, fifteen dead and fourteen wounded.’

  ‘It’s all bollocks.’ Peter shook his head.

  ‘26th of April 2002, a shooter struck in a German high school.’ I was counting the coincidences off on my fingers as Peter’s face reddened. ‘29th of April 2002, a shooter struck in Bosnia. All the shooters were into goth culture. They were into the music and the satanic side of it. Can all those dates be coincidence, or did they pick those dates for a reason?’

  ‘Fuck knows,’ Peter mumbled. ‘So, are the Nine Angles goths?’

  ‘I’m not saying that every black-haired teenager in a trench coat is a devil worshipper. I’m saying that their music and culture obviously influences young minds.’

  ‘But are they connected?’ he asked frustrated.

  ‘Who knows, Peter? I don’t.’ I raised my hands in the air. ‘I’m trying to explain to you that these groups are fractured, but there are thousands of them.’ I breathed in deeply and calmed myself. ‘The first group to openly admit to following the left-hand path surfaced in the sixties.’ I was using jargon, so I explained myself. ‘The followers of the left-hand path worship the devil as opposed to God.’

  Peter nodded that he was following. ‘Like I said, I’m not thick.’

  I ignored his snipe. ‘It was founded by a guy called Anton LaVey. He wrote The Satanic Bible and most of their other teachings before he died in the late nineties. They evolved into the Church of Satan under his daughter’s leadership, but many of his disciples split and founded other groups. You can buy a membership card into the Church of Satan online for two hundred dollars, which tells me that they’re harmless enough. They’re making money from idiots. It’s the splinter groups that are far more dangerous than them. They’re the true believers’

  ‘You mentioned that some of them are neo-Nazi?’

  ‘Some of them are. Just look at the goth bands and listen to their lyrics,’ I nodded, and searched for my smokes. I thought that Peter was barking up the wrong tree, but I humoured him with an explanation. ‘A guy called David Myatt was linked to one of the splinter groups who broke from the Church of Satan and he was also heavily involved with some of the more violent British right-wing groups.’

  ‘What, like the BNP?’ He looked pleased with himself that he was following.

  ‘Way before their time, mate.’

  ‘Carry on about the fascist side to them.’ Peter seemed keen to go into the fascist theme probably because it was something tangible that he encountered every day at work. It was more believable and easier to grasp than Satan-worshipping.

  ‘Well, when I looked into them there were a few websites that stood out. When you read the first few pages, it’s all about causing chaos and mayhem by using the dark arts, but then the next few pages are praising Hitler and his extermination of the Jews. I’m not sure where the two things marry, but several of the sites I looked at had a similar ethos.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Peter said, shaking his head, ‘are we talking Nazi-loving skinheads – no offence.’

  ‘None taken,’ I smiled. ‘I know it sounds odd, but the two seem to gel. Evil breeds evil and a lot of the iconology used is based on Nazi regalia. You have to remember that the Nazis were convinced that they were the superior race. The people who choose the sinister way believe that their way is better than the civilised norm that we accept. They call us the ‘mundane’, which is derogatory, right?’

  ‘I guess so.’ Peter nodded. ‘So, what did you change the name to in your book?’

  ‘The Eighteenth Brigade,’ I tried to explain it simply: ‘There are some hardcore fascist groups who use the number ‘18’ as a euphemism for the name Adolf Hitler. The one translates into the letter A and the eight becomes H, the first and eighth letters of the alphabet.’

  ‘Oh, I get it.’ He nodded. ‘I’ve heard of ‘Combat 18’. Now I know where they get the ‘18’ from.’ He laughed.

  ‘Have you heard of ‘Column 88’?’ I used another high-profile group with a strong presence on the Internet.


  ‘Yes.’ Peter glanced at me. ‘They’re on our lists of right-wing extremists.’

  ‘The same thing applies with them, ‘88’ translates into ‘HH’: ‘Heil Hitler’, and Myatt was connected with both of those groups and the Order of Nine ‘Angles’.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Peter said, ‘but what do they all want?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, confused.

  ‘What are they trying to achieve?’

  ‘That’s like asking why are we here or what is the meaning of life? My understanding of it is that it’s similar to most conventional religions in essence; the more they believe and live by the sinister code the more will be revealed to them by the evil forces in the cosmos.’

  ‘Gobbledegook,’ Peter said.

  ‘What, religion as a whole or just their religion?’

  ‘All of it.’

  ‘You got married in church, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes. What’s that got to do with it?’

  ‘You went to place of worship to conduct an antiquated religious ceremony in front of an altar. What difference does it make whose name was above the door?’ Peter’s face was a picture of confusion. ‘All religions look to a divine power, theirs is evil.’

  Peter gave me a sideways glance. He obviously thought that I was talking gobbledygook.

  ‘Come on, Conrad – divine power?’ He laughed. ‘Aren’t we talking about a bunch of crackpots who want to join a club with a difference?’

  I agreed with him to a degree. Some of them would be lowlife losers who wanted to belong to something, but there were genuine believers out there too. I decided to play devil’s advocate, excuse the pun.

  ‘Do you mind if I smoke?’ I’d not had a cigarette for hours. He shook his head, but he didn’t look totally happy with my request. I lit a menthol with my Zippo. ‘Why would anyone believe in a deity who created our planet in seven days when we know that our solar system was formed by a huge explosion?’ I lowered my window and exhaled the cigarette smoke. ‘Do you honestly believe that Jesus was the son of God, who fed the five thousand with a few loaves and fish, walked on water, died on a cross and then came back to life?’

  ‘Not completely,’ Peter conceded. ‘I know that the Bible is exaggerated.’

  ‘Exaggerated.’ It was my turn to give him a sideways glance. ‘We know for a fact that the Bible was compiled by the Emperor Constantine, who decided which bits of documented scripture to include and which ones to bury in pots near the Dead Sea. In my opinion the Bible was created to control the Christian population.’ I paused and pulled on my cigarette deeply. ‘They were causing unrest for a crumbling Roman Empire and they needed a way of bringing them into line. It’s a rule book of how to be civilised, and nothing more.’

  ‘You don’t believe in God, then?’ he said sarcastically.

  ‘I don’t believe in a compilation of scriptures written by fuck knows who.’ It was my turn to be sarcastic. ‘No one knows who wrote Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers or Deuteronomy, but it’s assumed that they were written by Moses. Since Deuteronomy records his death, it seems like bullshit to me that he wrote any of it. It’s a compilation of works by scholars dating back nearly a thousand years before Christ, and it’s full of contradictions, yet millions take its teachings literally.’

  ‘You think it’s all a big con?’ he asked.

  ‘The Dead Sea Scrolls have been in the Vatican for decades and they still won’t tell us what’s in them. Why do you think that is?’ I was waffling on. ‘Religion makes my piss boil. We know it’s manufactured, yet it’s the root cause of so much pain and destruction, and always has been.’ I took a deep drag and inhaled the minty smoke. ‘I’ll tell you why the Catholics won’t release their translations, it’s because it will shatter their grip on the millions who pay to keep the Catholic Church in business. It’s all bollocks in my opinion, but what we have to accept is the fact that millions do truly believe in God, Buddha, Allah, and, in this case, the devil.’ Lecture finished, I flicked my stump through the window and closed it. There was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as Peter digested what I’d said. ‘What we think doesn’t matter. The fact is that people believe in whatever they believe in and we can’t argue with them because no one knows what the truth is. They can’t all be right.’

  ‘You wouldn’t get on with my Sunday school teacher,’ he joked. ‘Fancy disrespecting Jesus and the Catholics; that’s shocking.’

  ‘I’m not disrespecting Jesus.’ I laughed. ‘I have no doubt in my mind that he existed and that he was a charismatic prophet with values to share, but I don’t believe he was the son of God. I believe he was human. The point is that it doesn’t matter what I believe. It’s what they believe that’s important. That’s what makes them do the things they do.’

  ‘We’re nearly there.’ Peter indicated left and slid out of the traffic. ‘I need to explain all this to my governor, and he has his feet firmly on this planet, so I need to translate what you’ve told me into plain and simple English.’ We pulled off the A55 and travelled a short distance to a converted farm, which developers had transformed into a block of apartments. They overlooked the breakwater and Soldiers Point.

  ‘So, in the nineties there were a lot of fascists that worshipped Satan and allegedly they evolved into the group which Fabienne Wilder is talking about?’ He looked at me for confirmation. I nodded and he carried on. ‘According to your research, their sites are plastered with swastikas and racist ranting mixed in with the occultist stuff, but then on the other hand there are the real hardcore devil worshippers, too. Is that it in a nutshell?’

  ‘Basically,’ I said, nodding. ‘Look, this occultist stuff goes back to ancient Egypt and Babylon. It’s intertwined throughout history. The Templars used images of the Goat of Mendes in their chapels and the Freemasons teach that Lucifer is the light-bearer, but that doesn’t mean that they worship Satan. If you look into it, occultism is older than Christianity.’

  ‘Who says that the Masons are devil worshippers?’ Peter asked chirpily.

  ‘Conspiracy theorists will tell you that the Masons are satanic, but if you look into their history, the evidence contradicts that.’

  ‘Good, the governor is a Mason.’

  ‘My dad was a Lodge Master, so I’m pretty sure about that.’ I smiled, but the memory of my father tugged at my heart. ‘The Niners’ are the real thing. Their shit is really off the chart.’

  ‘Fascist devil worshippers?’ He shook his head. ‘Sounds like bollocks to me.’

  ‘It is bollocks to us. Google it.’ I laughed. ‘It will take you two minutes to find them.’

  ‘Is the superintendent going to go for that?’ Peter frowned again and looked at me in disbelief. ‘Sounds like a weird combination.’

  ‘It’s true, though,’ I explained. ‘Tell him to search for them. It will take him thirty seconds to find a page full of them. There are dozens of groups with the same agenda. They’re racist, homophobic Satanists, but don’t make the mistake of thinking they’re thick Nazi thugs stomping around in Dr Marten’s boots; far from it. From what I can remember, they boasted some powerful business leaders and politicians as members.’

  ‘And then they became the Niners?’

  ‘They originally called themselves Ophite Cultus Satanas, I think, but then that group either disbanded or went underground because of the attention they were attracting.’ I could tell that the name confused Peter. ‘Or maybe no one could remember the name,’ I joked.

  ‘The Nine Angels and Angles are much more current. They were established in the nineties. They have clandestine groups known as traditional nexions or sinister tribes. Their lingo is quite distinctive, but it struck me how consistent it was.’ I shivered as I explained the group to Peter. Something walked over my grave. Peter pulled the Citroën to a halt in an empty parking bay marked ‘visitors’. The main entrance door to the apartment block was wedged open and guarded by a uniformed officer. It was, in essence, a huge converted
engine shed, and it had retained its historical features while being transformed into a desirable apartment block.

  ‘What do you mean, ‘consistent’?’

  ‘The sites which are well developed with tons of information on them all use the same terminology.’ I reached for another cigarette as I tried to explain. ‘The language they use in their teachings is consistent across the different groups, which tells me that their information comes from the same original source. Does that make sense?’

  ‘Yes.’ Peter nodded. ‘So, what are they up to then? How do we relate all this to what Fabienne Wilder is saying?’

  ‘That’s a question I can’t answer.’ I shook my head and lit up. Instead of opening the window I opened the door and twisted my body to swing my legs out of the car. ‘I remember there were rumours of sexual deviancy, rape and murder during their gatherings. There’s a hierarchy within the group and there were helpers, sympathetic to their ideals. They had loose members, or colleagues, who participated in their ceremonies and then there was the upper tier, about which there was little information available for obvious reasons. But I picked all this up from Internet chat linked to the sites. It could be just hearsay.’

  ‘Fabienne mentioned feeders?’ he asked. ‘You explained that to me, but the boss isn’t going to buy that.’

  ‘You’re missing the point,’ I said.

  ‘Which is what?’

  ‘Your senior officers are reasonable men and women. Will they believe that feeding on the blood of a dying victim will enhance the killer with power and bring them closer to their God?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘Yet Christians take the blood of Christ at communion.’ I watched the cogs turning in his mind. ‘Explain what it means. Whether they believe it or not is irrelevant. All they need to do is accept that the Niners do.’

  ‘Have you come across any evidence of these groups locally?’

  ‘No, not really. Look, these groups are like ghosts; there are only whispers that they ever existed. Fabienne could be telling the truth that she’s innocent or maybe she is involved in some kind of devil worship. Then again, she could be bonkers, right?’