DI Giles BoxSet
Page 51
He raised one eyebrow and the DI cleared her throat. “DI Giles, Dyfed-Powys police.” As she took out her notebook, she felt like she was arming herself.
Dewi's voice was once more uncharacteristically stern. “DS Hughes.”
“Darryl Williams, Senior Adviser and CEO of this firm. How can I help, officers?” He said it between clenched teeth, whilst managing to look bored.
“?We're investigating the suicides of two local businessmen. We understand they were patrons of your firm.”
He shifted to a more upright position, his eyes searching the DI's face. “Investigating suicides? I don't understand. Investigating, why?”?
“We'd like to tie up loose ends regarding the circumstances of the deaths and give closure to the families.”? Yvonne did some facial searching of her own.
“Are you aware of the gentlemen we're referring to?” Dewi flicked through a couple of pages of his notebook.
“Well, I would think that Ben Davies would be one and...” He paused, screwing up his eyes as though struggling to recall another name. The DI didn't believe the charade, but helped him out anyway. “?Tony Ball.”
“Ahhh, yes...Tony.”
“How well did you know him?”
“I only knew him on a business footing, really. I'd known him for about ten years.”
“What about socially?” Yvonne was still scrutinising Darryl's face.
“Not really.”
“Are you saying you have never attended social events with him?”
There was a pause. Darryl squeezed his bottom lip with his teeth.
“I might have. We sometimes have business conferences and business events which are social in nature.”?
It was clear he wasn't intending to be helpful. The rest of the interview wasn't any better. Afterward, Yvonne rose to thank him for his time, but her displeasure must have shown on her face, as Darryl rose to shake her hand before they left.
“I'm sorry, inspector, I probably haven't been much help.”
The DI had felt her blood pressure rising, and she barely waited until she was outside of the offices. “If he'd been any cagier he could have housed the animals in Chester Zoo!”? She blurted the words, her fists clenched.
Dewi couldn't help a smile curling his lips. He had seen during the interview that she was controlling her irritation, which increased by the minute. “?I think he's hiding something, ma'am. And did you notice the masonic ring?”
“I noticed the ring, Dewi. So, it was masonic?”
“Looked like it to me. There's a lodge on Milford Road. Maybe we could go along there at some point and make enquiries. May be an interesting list of members.”?
“What if they were all in it together?” Yvonne turned to face her DS. “What if there's some kind of conspiracy here to defraud wealthy businessmen out of their estate and they're all involved?”?
“You mean a cover-up?”
“Or an organised criminal network...”
“I don't think it's likely, if I'm honest, but stranger things have happened, I guess. The world of business is a magical mystery to me.”?
“Well done spotting the mason's ring, Dewi. We'll certainly do some digging there. I need a chat with Llewellyn.”? Yvonne began crossing the road and narrowly missed being hit by a cyclist. She pulled back just in time.
“What are you going to say to the DCI? Are you going to talk to him about Darryl Williams?”
“No, I want to talk to him about bringing Tasha on board, officially.”
“You do know you're risking another budget argument...” Dewi gave a chuckle.
“Well, she's offered to do it pro bono if necessary. I'm providing bed and board.” Yvonne grinned. “Come on, it's lunchtime, and I don't know about you, but I'm starving.”
Yvonne listened at the door before giving it a couple of firm knocks.
“Come in.” The reply was slow and the voice cracked.
“Hi. Is this a bad time?” Yvonne walked in as though afraid of waking someone.
“No. Why do you ask?”
“You sound tired and...” She eyed the messed up paperwork on his desk.
He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Sitting back in his chair, his face relaxed a little. “Just a headache.”? He managed a weak smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I feel like I'm making headway with this case, but I'm still a way off having a concrete suspect.” She brushed her hand on her skirt. “?There are people of interest,” she added quickly.
He indicated for her to take a seat, and pulled his own chair around to the same side of the desk. “Have you a definite link between the rapes?”?
Yvonne's gaze strayed to the window. It was drizzling outside. The sky had darkened considerably in the last hour, though it was the middle of the day. She watched the rivulets form, fuse, and fade as they journeyed down the pane. “?I have. I'd say there is now very little doubt we have a serial rapist operating in the area.”
“Well, that's something, at least.”
Yvonne nodded. “What I was going to ask was if I might bring in extra help.”
The DCI frowned. “Help?”
Yvonne grimaced, as though afraid of the answer she might get. “I was wondering if I might bring in Tasha Phillips.”? She finished the sentence quickly and sat back in her chair, as though exhausted by the effort it took to ask the question.
“Yvonne, as much as I respect and admire your psychologist friend, we can't make a habit of drawing her in for every investigation. The police and crime commissioner have been hammering the chief super about our budget for some time. Right now, we're having to invest in recruitment. You know we're going to have to shut Newtown reception one day a week due to uniform shortage. Not enough bodies to man the station.”
Yvonne nodded. “I had heard. I was hoping it wouldn't come to that.”
“Well, it has.” He moved his head a little too quickly and winced.
“Have you taken some pain killers?”
“Not yet. I was hoping I might shake it without them.”?
Yvonne took a couple of paracetamol from the box in her jacket pocket.
“You got a headache, too?” He asked, accepting them from her.
“I did have. I think it's the closeness of this weather. I think a storm's coming.”
It was his turn to gaze through the window. “Yes. You may be right...in more ways than one,” he added.
“She's offered to do it for free.”
“Sorry?”
“Tasha. She's offered to help us on the case for free. And I'd value her input on my investigation into the family deaths.”?
“She'd seriously do it for free? That's quite a friend...”
“Well, I said she could have free bed and board at my place. So, kind of like a working holiday.”
Llewellyn laughed. “Okay. Okay. Bring her on board. I'll ask the super if there's any money for her.”?
“Great.” Yvonne smiled warmly and appeared much younger.
“When was she planning to come down?”
“Err...” Yvonne cringed.
Llewellyn laughed again, shaking his head. “I might have known. What if I'd said no?” He held up his hand. “?Don't tell me, I think I know the answer. Just remember, I want to know ev-er-y-thing.” He emphasised the syllables to ram home the message. “You two, together, spells trouble.”
Yvonne smiled with real warmth as she left his office.
Brian Evans sat with a duty solicitor in interview room one. DC Callum Jones waited with them for the DI to arrive. When she did, he began the introductions for the benefit of the tape. She gave her name and rank on cue.
It was evident from their faces they were very unhappy about being called into the station at seven o'clock in the morning. They had a sullen schoolboy look about them.
“Mr Evans, thank you for coming here today to be interviewed in connection with an alleged sexual assault which took place in Welshpool on the twenty-second of July.”?
r /> “What assault? I haven't assaulted anyone.”
“We're not accusing you, Mr Evans. We're merely making enquiries, and we do have good reasons for asking you to come.”?
“My client would like you to put forward those reasons at the outset.” The solicitor glared at Yvonne, over the top of his glasses, as he shuffled through paperwork in front of him.
Yvonne ran her pen over her notes as she began. “First of all, the method of the attack was similar to an assault which Mr Evans perpetrated two years ago.”?
“My client has completed a treatment programme. He's doing well on his licence. I have a glowing report from his -”?
“Secondly, there was an absence period from his electronic tag on the night in question for an hour.”? Yvonne leaned back in her chair, placing her pen down. “What does your client have to say about that?”
“I had a good reason for that absence.” Evans gave the DI a black look.
“It says here you were breached for that absence and narrowly escaped recall to prison.”
From the way the solicitor stared at his client it was clear he hadn't been given that information. Evans chewed his fingernails.
“Where were you that night, Mr Evans?”
“I needed more weed. I went to see my friend, who's also my supplier, and we started smoking together. I lost track of time.”?
“You know you could be recalled to prison for using cannabis.”
“I didn't assault anyone.” Evans scowled at the DI.
Yvonne noted the yellow staining on Evans' fingers; the hair straggled and matted; days worth of stubble on his face and clothing mottled by food stains. Evans appeared as though he hadn't had a bath in weeks.
“Do you have running water where you are? And electricity?”
Callum looked at her.
“What do you mean?” Evans looked surprised. “Of course I do.”
“Are you okay financially?”
“I'm getting by.”
“Do you have a support worker?”
“Just my probation officer.”
“Uh huh.”
“What's this about?” Evans had gone back to sullen.
Yvonne pushed her chair back in a staccato movement, her mind suddenly elsewhere. “Thank you for talking to us, Mr Evans. We'll be in touch if we need to speak to you again.”?
Callum stopped her in the corridor after Evans and his solicitor had left. “I don't understand, ma'am. That was a bit short and sweet. Are you taking it on face value, what he said about smoking with his dealer?”?
“Did you take a good look at him, Callum? There's no way he could be described as smelling of expensive soap, or any soap.”?
Callum grinned. “Okay, I'm with you on that.”
“Talk to his probation officer anyway. Get her take on the absence. See if there have been other absences from curfew. Any that haven't been followed up with breach. If there have been others, compare them with the dates and times of the other assaults.”?
“Yes, ma'am.”
“I doubt he's our guy. There's a part of me that feels sorry for him. He really doesn't have much, does he? But, I don't want to leave any stone unturned in this investigation.”
“I'm on it like a car bonnet.”
Yvonne chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “You got that from your kids?”
Callum smiled. “They keep me young.”
Going home that evening, Yvonne couldn't wait to let Tasha know that she might be officially part of the investigation. She felt more optimism than she had in a while.
16
There was a coldness to the clear morning air and a light breeze tugged at the tops of the trees. It was only mid-August, and yet Yvonne was reminded of Autumn.
They'd left the car a hundred yards down the lane, making a conscious effort to approach the house as they imagined a killer would have done. Tasha walked ahead, followed closely by Yvonne and Dave West, the DC from West Mercia.
From the outside, there was little to indicate that anything dark had happened there. The birds still sang and flew from hedgerow to hedgerow. The countryside was fresh, green and peaceful. The approach to the house was pretty ordinary, devoid of police tape. The blinds were closed on most of the downstairs windows and a 'For Sale' sign loomed large on the main wrought-iron gates. The latter were not locked.
“A killer would probably have parked where we did.” Tasha paused outside the front door. “It's the only place with enough foliage around to provide cover. Only someone visiting the house would see it.”?
“He'd be taking a risk with that though, wouldn't he?”
“Ordinarily, yes. But bear in mind that they were killed somewhere between midnight and the small hours. Who's going to turn up at that time? Unless they also have bad business in mind. He'd have been unlucky for someone else to just happen upon them.”
Yvonne nodded. “Shall we go in?” She took the keys, with their estate-agent-supplied key fob, and opened the front door. Their footsteps echoed around the large spaces, now devoid of furniture and possessions. The DI could imagine only too well the footfall, shouts and laughter of those small children, as they drove their mum and dad to distraction. That was just a few short weeks ago.
She leaned back on a wall and sighed. There was nothing now. Even the carpets were absent. They trod on ash and oak flooring, or else on clay tiles. Otherwise, all indicators of the lives of the family, were gone.
Dave West opened his file containing the crime-scene photographs, which the the DI had given back to him in the car. She no longer needed them. The images were all-too-readily called to mind and she could see the dead, clearly, as she entered each room.
Off the hall, they entered the largest of the open-plan spaces. A huge kitchen diner, filled with light, once Tasha pressed the remote button to open the blinds. At the far end of the space had been a massive corner suite, where the family might have relaxed, played and fought as Mrs Bennett prepared dinner. Had a killer watched them through those large windows?
The kitchen was where Mr Bennett had lost his life. The air was filled with the lingering odour of fresh paint. The flooring had been sanded and waxed.
The bedrooms, too, had been painted. The window in the master bedroom, left partially open.
“The Bennett's bed was here.” Yvonne indicated its position, verified by Dave as he oriented the photo in his hand.
“She'd woken up prior to being killed. She may even have been walking around. We have no way of knowing.”? Dave pointed to the spot. “A book had been dropped on the floor just there, close to the door.”
“You think Mrs Bennett dropped it? Maybe when the killer came to the bedroom door?” Tasha walked over to where Dave and Yvonne were standing.
“I do. I think she heard something, got out of bed to check it out, and came face to face with killer and the gun.”?
“So, she may have been awake and reading, and been fully aware of the gunshot that took her husband's life.”?
“That's what I think.” Dave pursed his lips. “Shaun, that's my DS, thought it had probably been discarded previously, or knocked there by the children. There were a few items here and there, in the downstairs rooms, too. The book was open, face-down, and the some of the pages were creased.”?
Yvonne took a step back. “So, Mr Bennett is killed down in the kitchen-diner. Mrs Bennett hears the bang and walks to the door, to investigate, carrying the book. The killer is on the landing, he aims the gun at her –? ordering her back into the room - then he shoots her.”
“Yes.” Dave nodded. “We don't know exactly how it transpired, but we do know that Mrs Bennett was not under the covers when she was shot. Her body was moved there and covered up after the event. In fact, judging by the amount of blood around, we think the killer went to the children's room and dispatched them before coming back to tuck Mrs Bennett in.”?
“And there were no signs of sexual assault.” Yvonne walked to the window, watching the trees shudder in the light bre
eze.
“There was no evidence of any sexual activity that night, forced or otherwise.”
“I have a thought.” Tasha joined the DI at the bedroom window.
“What's that?” Yvonne turned to her.
“When looking at the other families, we assumed that the mothers were asleep when they were killed, as they had been shot in bed. Stands to reason that a loving husband would wait for them to be asleep. But an outsider? He may have ordered them to do other stuff before sending them back into bed and shooting them.”?
“That's right.” Yvonne nodded, and a shiver ran down her spine. “We'll never know what actually took place. Not unless the killer confesses everything.”?
“And how often do they do that?” Tasha sighed.
“Quite. The memories of those last moments are something they can still have control over, when all else has been taken from them.”?
“'Til they write a book...” Dave West threw the words behind him. He was already making his way to the children's rooms.
“Again, there's no evidence that the children knew anything about it,” he said as the others joined him.
“Wouldn't they have been woken by the noise from the mother's room?”
Dave shrugged. “If they were, there was no sign of that from the scene.”
“You said that the scene was organized. Neat.”
“It was. Particularly the children's room. Something just didn't feel right about it.”
“What about the book in the Master bedroom.”
“That was the exception.”
“An organised killer would have tidied that up, surely.”? Yvonne leaned back against the wall, pulling forward again to check the back of her jacket when she remembered that the place had recently been painted.
Tasha rubbed her chin. “If our killer is a sexual predator, as I suspect he is, the mother's room is where he would be most likely to make a mistake. It's the room where he's feels most stimulated.”?