DI Giles BoxSet

by Anna-Marie Morgan

  “Half the night-life in Newtown, I should think. Do I need an alibi? Do you think I torched that car myself?”

  “We think that vehicle may have belonged to a drowning victim,” she said, her voice deceptively soft.

  “Wait a minute,” Clive growled. “I didn’t drown anyone. If you’re trying to accuse me-”

  “We’ll be asking several people of their whereabouts.”

  “I’m not worried. Like I said, there are a lot of people who will tell you where I was.” He reeled off a few names of friends and bar staff at the various places he’d been served drinks.

  Yvonne noted them down. “Did you see anything suspicious around then? The day before? Saturday day time?”

  He rubbed his chin, his eyes glazed. “Not that I recall.”

  “What about sound? You hear anything? Any noises in the night?”

  “Nope. Nothing. Well, dogs were barking in the early hours, but that’s nothing unusual. We get a lot of foxes roaming around up here. Tends to set the dogs off.”

  Yvonne made several notes. “There may be follow-up interviews with officers in uniform, and there will be a lot of police activity in your fields over the coming days.”

  He eyed her, as though looking for the words he wanted to say.

  She waited, but there was nothing forthcoming.

  37

  Comnnections

  Yvonne rapped the Chris LLewellyn’s door. Instead of calling her in, as he would usually have done, he appeared at the door, causing her to step back in surprise.

  “Is this a good time?” she asked, as he stepped back to allow her in. She wasn’t sure why, but she had the feeling he had been pacing the room. He appeared pale, the lines deeper on his forehead.

  “As good a time as any.” He sighed. “I wanted to apologise to you.” He leaned on his desk, part-seated. Legs triangulated with the floor.

  “Oh?” She hadn’t been expecting that.

  “Yes. I think I was a little harsh, the last time you came to speak to me. Perhaps, a little too dismissive.” He shook his head. “It’s not easy making budget and manpower decisions, but that’s not an excuse to stifle your ideas.”

  Yvonne’s eyes searched his face. “About that, sir.” She placed both her hands in the small of her back. “We have some developments.”

  He placed both his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on her face.

  “We found Kenny Walter’s vehicle burned-out, in some fields up above Dolfor. Not far from the Dolfor Moors. We haven’t had full forensic analysis as yet, but we think it likely the car was torched the night Kenny died.”

  “And you don’t think Kenny was responsible?”

  “Well, we can’t rule that out, but he would have had to walk back into town, before taking his own life…if that is what transpired.”

  “And, you don’t think that is what happened, do you? I can see it in your eyes.”

  “No, I don’t. I think his killer met him up there in order to buy drugs from him. Specifically, GHB. After the deal, I think he incapacitated Kenny, possibly by stabbing him with a syringe full of GHB, and then put him in his own vehicle, whilst disposing of Kenny’s vehicle in a farm field. He doused it in petrol and set fire to it.”

  “Wow.” LLewellyn thought for a moment. “Got anything to back that up?”

  “Not forensically, yet. However, chalked on the field gatepost was a large Roman numeral for five.”

  The DCI frowned. “Five?”

  “Fifth victim. If my concerns are correct, Kenny would have been the fifth drowning victim of a serial murderer.”

  “The Pusher…”

  “Well, whatever you want to call him. It’s not that simple, however. I don’t believe he just pushes them in the river. I believe he drugs and abducts them first. I believe we have him on CCTV footage. We just don’t have his face, and we don’t have footage of him in the act.”

  “Do you think your killer is leaving a calling card? Chalking numerals for each victim?”

  “I do.”

  “You need more than that, Yvonne. How do you know the markings you’ve seen are not just pointers for cross-country running or cyclists? Even treasure hunting?”

  “I don’t, for sure. And, I haven’t found all of the numerals. But, I think they exist and we will find them.”

  The DCI grimaced, still having doubts.

  “There’s something else you ought to know.” Yvonne sighed. “Kenny’s vehicle is one of the suspect vehicles in the hit and run death of Callum Jenkins. I’ve asked forensics to examine for traces of blood and fibres. There was also some red paint, from another vehicle, left on the gatepost. Possibly unconnected, but we’re looking into it.”

  Llewellyn’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, doesn’t involvement in Callum’s death give us more reason for why Kenny might have killed himself? Mightn’t he have simply torched his vehicle and then walked into town to end it all? Perhaps he was wrestling with guilt all the way back into town.”

  “Can I at least look into this fully, sir? Give me the resources and I will find this killer and stop more young men from dying.”

  Llewellyn pursed his lips, his eyes searching those of the DI. “Alright,” he said, puffing out a large volume of air. “Okay. I trust your instincts and I’m going to say go for it. But get me something, quickly. At least, give me some firm suspects. Someone we can interview. You can give this case equal priority to the hit-and-run. As soon as you have anything on that burned out vehicle, I want it, okay? We’ll give a press conference. The community needs it and so do Callum’s parents.”

  Yvonne nodded. “Will do, sir.”

  38

  Captive

  Yvonne found Callum and Dai having a quick coffee break. “Sorry to do this to you, guys, but could you check if either Rob Davies or Geoff Griffiths have a red vehicle? Oh, and could you let me know, ASAP?”

  “But-“ Callum looked down at his coffee and back.

  “Yes, we can. No problem.” Dai gave Callum a warning look. “What’s the occasion, ma’am?”

  She pulled a face, by way of apology. “It may be nothing, but it’s possible that someone murdered Kenny Walters, and that someone deposited paint from their vehicle onto the gate, near where Kenny’s car was found. It’s a total long-shot, but it’s all we’ve got at the moment.”

  “Sure, no problem.” Dai led Callum out of the coffee area. They took their drinks with them.

  Yvonne folded her arms, staring out the window, trying to make sense of everything in her head. Her mobile phone going off in her jacket pocket snapped her out of it.

  “DI Giles?”

  “Call for you, ma’am.”

  “Hello?”

  “Hello? Is that Detective Inspector Yvonne Giles?” The voice was of a young female, and sounded hesitant.

  “Yes. I’m Yvonne Giles. How can I help?”

  “I was wondering if I could speak to Chris. Chris Halliwell. Is he with you?”

  “PC Halliwell? I’m afraid he’s not with me, no. He had to leave for a family emergency. He won’t be back for a few days, at least. Can I help?”

  “Um…Well, no. Not really. It’s his daughter’s birthday and she’s been desperately waiting for his call. He usually calls her without fail, when he cannot be with her, on her birthday. We haven’t heard from him.”

  “Wait.” Yvonne frowned. “Who are you? Isn’t his daughter in the hospital?”

  “I’m Vicky, Chris’s ex-partner and the mother of his daughter. His daughter’s fine. She’s not in hospital. She hasn’t been to hospital in months. I don’t understand.”

  “Vicky, when was the last time you heard from Chris?” The DI had become breathless, the words tumbling out.

  “About four days ago. That is very unusual. He phones his daughter every evening. Without fail. I’ve tried contacting him but his phone is off.”

  “Oh.” Yvonne’s heart sank.

  “What is it? Did he tell you he was going to the hospital?” />
  “There appears to be some sort of mix up. Don’t worry, Vicky. I will get to the bottom of this and get back to you. Is it alright to call you back on this number, later?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. Is Chris alright?”

  Yvonne bit her lip. “I’ll find him and I’ll get back to you. Please don’t worry, he may just have needed some time to himself. Please call us if you hear from him, okay?”

  “Yes. I will.” Vicky hung up.

  Yvonne thought for a moment, tumbling through scenarios in her head. She ran to find Dewi and caught up with him on the stairs. “Dewi, find Jenny Hadley. Chris’s family are looking for him. He hasn’t been in touch. His daughter is not in the hospital.” The DI fought to get her breath. “He may have told Jenny what he was really going to do. Maybe he’s in his room in the hotel or…”

  “Or?” Dewi looked at her, wide-eyed.

  “Someone phoned him and told him his daughter was in the hospital. If so, then why? If he is not in his room, then he’s missing and we need to find him.”

  Just then, Callum and Dai appeared. “Geoff Griffiths has a red car, ma’am. Rob Davies doesn’t own a vehicle.” Dai flicked his notepad shut.

  “Right.” Yvonne ran her hands through her hair. “Dai, Callum…PC Halliwell is missing. Speak to Jenny Hadley, find out if she knows where he is. If she doesn’t, check his room at the hotel and inform the DCI that he is AWOL. Tell LLewellyn that Chris told me he’d had a phone call telling him that his daughter was in the hospital. He asked permission to go to her bedside and said he’d be a few days. Tell the DCI I’m very concerned.” She turned to Dewi. “We’re going to pay Geoff Griffiths a visit.”

  Chris Halliwell spluttered, gasping for breath. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. Water had gone up his nostrils, in his mouth. His torturer had stepped back, as though having realised that Chris had taken as much as he could. The hood was pulled off his head, and Chris blinked, focussing on the ceiling and on his captor’s face.

  “Why?” he asked, still spitting water. “Why are you doing this to me? What have I done?”

  “You keep asking that. The answer’s not going to change. Some people like cycling or painting or playing chess. I like watching people drown.”

  “You…” The realisation dawned. “You’re the person who’s been killing young men. You’re responsible for the bodies we’ve been fishing out of the river.”

  His gaoler clapped, slowly and deliberately, several times. “Clever boy. You might even make a detective, one day.”

  “Why?” Chris shook his head. “What do you get out of this?”

  “Pleasure.” His mouth curled into an evil smile.

  “Are you going to kill me? Is my body going to be found in the river?” Since he’d seen his captor’s face, Chris already knew the answer to his question but he asked it anyway.

  “What do you think?” Again the evil, curling smile.

  Chris fought against his restraints. There was no movement in them.

  “Want some of this?” He held up a needle and syringe.

  Chris eyed it, his breath catching. “No. No, I want to feel everything.” He knew that if that syringe went in his arm, it would be the end. Whilst he was still conscious, there was still hope of an opening. “Don’t kill me here. Kill me at the river. If I’m to drown, I’d like it to be in a natural environment.”

  His would-be killer laughed, putting down the syringe and placing both hands on his hips. “Nice try, PC Halliwell. Nice try.”

  The sound of a vehicle pulling into the yard startled the man. He stood stock-still and listened, cocking his head in concentration. The sound of doors shutting on the vehicle.

  PC Halliwell opened his mouth to shout, but was punched full force to the side of his head. He was gagged, before the bag was placed on top of his head. He heard his captor retreat down the steps, closing the ceiling hatch. Hot tears covered his cheeks. He prayed it was the police and that they knew he was here. He prayed to see his little girl again. He prayed for a miracle.

  39

  So close, but yet

  Yvonne and Dewi were quickly out of the car, heading towards the open lock-up. A red Romero was inside and they gave it the once-over. There was no sign of the owner.

  “Any sign of damage your side?” Yvonne’s heart sank. There was nothing that she could see.

  “No. Not a single blemish.’

  “Damn.” The DI took a quick look around the rest of the lock-up. Small tins of nuts and bolts, all labelled, boxes holding various tools, drill, hammer. Basic stuff. Nothing that could obviously be used to repair a vehicle.

  A few old sacks, empty and folded, lay in a pile, and a stack of old paint tins and some paint brushes - none of them metallic paint and none in red.

  “Maybe it’s not him.” Yvonne shook her head.

  “Doesn’t look like it.” Dewi put his baton away. “Shall we talk to him anyway?”

  “Yes. He’s high on my list.”

  They heard footsteps running into the yard, crossing over to the lock up in just a few strides.

  “You again?” He called to the officers inside.

  Yvonne came out first. “We’re checking local cars in the area. This yours?” She nodded behind her to the Romero.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “A young boy was mown down two months ago-”

  “I know…terrible. You haven’t found the person who did it, then?”

  “Not yet. You told me you use Maldwyn Sports Centre, right?”

  “That’s right. Why?” His eyes narrowed, he knew full well what she was suggesting.

  “We think the person who killed him was a local, either resident or a user of the school or sports centre.”

  “Well, you’ve looked at my car, so you know it’s not me, right? My car’s red and he was killed with a silver car.”

  “Yeah.” Yvonne tried to sound off-hand. She sensed something, she couldn’t quite put a finger on. “Can we go inside for a chat?”

  “Why?”

  “Well, you use the sports centre, maybe you know someone who goes there, or you’ve seen something-“

  “I haven’t.”

  “All the same, a little chat wouldn’t hurt. Anyway, I could murder a cup of tea.”

  There was sweat on his brow. He licked his lips, flicking a look up at a window at the top of the house. “Look, I do know something.”

  “Oh?” Dewi was at Yvonne’s side, pocketbook open.

  “I popped into Dingle Hall garage, around the time that boy was killed. I wanted to schedule a service for my vehicle.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, there was someone else there…Kenny.”

  “Kenny who?”

  “Walters…I think that’s his name.”

  “Kenny Walters, the drug dealer who was found in the river?”

  “Kenny had taken his car there to be fixed. A four-by-four. An old Suzuki, I think it was.” He swallowed hard.

  “Go on.”

  “I spotted some blood on the window. A smear. I pointed it out to Kenny and he looked panicked. Told me he’d hit a small deer. He washed it off, before the garage hand took the vehicle in.”

  “If you knew a young boy had been killed, why didn’t you report this to the police?” Yvonne took a step towards him.

  He scowled, as though he wanted to hurt her. “I guess I just didn’t make the association, back then.”

  “So, when did you make the association?”

  “Just now.” The words were delivered slow and cold. “If you don’t believe me, go down to the Dingle garage and ask them. Ask them if they carried out repairs on Kenny’s vehicle. They’ll tell you.”

  “We will.” Yvonne was still staring at him, studying his face. He looked uncomfortable.

  Her mobile interjected.

  “DI Giles?”

  “Ma’am.” It was DC Callum Jones. “Chris’s car has been located. It’s at a garage at Halfway House, near Shrewsbury.”

/>   “Is Chris at the garage?”

  “He’s nowhere to be seen, ma’am. The garage owners called it in. They phoned West Mercia police to tell them that the car had been abandoned there. No-one has been in touch about it. They reported it as an abandoned vehicle.”

  “I see.”

  “There’s something else.”

  “Go on.”

  “There was a rag stuffed in the exhaust.”

  “Sabotage…”

  “Looks like it, ma’am.”

  Yvonne shot a look at Dewi. “We’ve got somewhere to be.” She looked at Geoff Griffiths. “Are you working later?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Then, we’ll speak to you tomorrow.” She wanted to stay. Stay and squeeze this witness like a sponge. But finding Chris Haliwell had to take priority. She narrowed her eyes at Griffiths before turning for the exit.

  40

  The rag in the pipe

  Yvonne, Dewi and Jenny Hadley piled into an unmarked vehicle and Dewi put his foot down, as much as he was able. The roads between Newtown and Shrewsbury were good but always busy. Still, they were at Halfway House in around forty minutes. The car had been dumped on the garage forecourt. Someone came out to greet them, cleaning his hands on piece of cloth.

  “Is this it?” Yvonne walked around the back to examine the rag in the exhaust. She didn’t touch it. She’d leave that to forensics. She crouched to get a better look.

  “Obviously planned.” Dewi crouched beside her.

  “Looks like it, doesn’t it? Well thought out, too. They didn’t completely block the exhaust. Just hampered it enough to cause engine problems.” She pointed to the some of the rag which protruded out from the exhaust. “This was done in the dark. The saboteur didn’t have to worry too much about Chris, or anyone else, seeing this. If it had been done in daylight, the rag would have had to have been completely concealed.”

  “Whoever did this, likely followed him down here. Chris had engine problems and probably pulled over to take a look.”