by Ted Tayler
“Can I help you?” the man asked, turning his back on the game of kick-and-rush going on behind him.
Gus explained who they were and what they were investigating. Luke sensed the man had something to hide.
“I remember Ivan Kendall,” said the man, who introduced himself as Gethin Hughes. “It shocked a lot of people when he got killed. He was always so quiet.”
“Did you know his wife, Sally?” asked Gus.
“I saw her in the supermarket if I went shopping with my wife.”
“I imagine you knew Lexie better,” said Luke. “She came here with the dogs, didn’t she?”
“Not at first,” said Gethin. “She was never interested in playing football. Lexie started coming to watch matches and then training sessions because there were plenty of men around. Her Dad was more interested in rugby.”
“How old was she when she showed an interest in the players?” asked Luke.
“Fourteen, maybe,” said Gethin. “Difficult to tell when they’re not in school uniform, wearing make-up, and smoking, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Luke.
“When did you and Lexie hook up?” asked Gus. “Don’t deny it. You’ve stood there shuffling your feet for the past couple of minutes.”
“She was sixteen,” said Gethin Hughes. “I was with Lexie the night that her Dad got on the train to Cardiff. We were at the station. Lexie never told the police who she was with.”
“Were you a married man four years ago, Mr Hughes?” asked Gus.
“I was, we married young,” said Gethin Hughes, “there’s not much to do around here when you’re a teenager. After ten years, we got bored with one another. It happens. Lexie was young and always up for it. We saw one another for a month. I only met up with her twice after that Saturday night.”
“Why did you stop seeing one another?” asked Luke.
“My wife got suspicious at the number of football meetings I reckoned I had to attend. Lexie’s mother had the funeral to arrange. It was a tough time for both of them. I told Lexie we had to cool things for a while. She just shrugged and told me not to worry. They would not be around much longer, anyway.”
“So, Lexie knew her mother wanted to move away not long after the funeral?” asked Gus.
“It was the end of June, beginning of July when Lexie ended things. She left school later in the month. Lexie planned to go to college in Bridgend in September, but because of her father’s murder, she couldn’t concentrate on her exams. I don’t think she got the grades she needed.”
“You seem to know a lot even though you no longer saw one another, Mr Hughes?” said Gus.
“It’s a small village,” replied Gethin Hughes. “Sally and Lexie were on everybody’s mind because of what happened. I heard plenty of stories that summer. Lexie never found a job. She stayed at home until Sally’s mother died.”
“Her mother lived in Llanharry, didn’t she?” asked Luke.
“That’s why everyone thought that’s where Sally went. She’d run away there more than once.”
“Did Lexie ever give you a hint of where they might go?” asked Gus.
“Never spoke to her,” said Gethin. “It was none of my business. I wasn’t that worried where they went.”
“Did you ever exercise the dogs with Lexie?” asked Luke.
“Once or twice,” said Gethin. “We went to the allotments by the rugby club to collect them. They were a nightmare to control.”
“What breed were they?” asked Luke.
“God knows. They were a crossbreed, I reckon. Even though they were only twelve months old, they were so powerful. They doted on Lexie though.”
“When did you first notice the Kendall’s had left the village?” asked Gus.
“I was in the supermarket with the wife, hunting for a turkey crown. It was two weeks before Christmas, and Sally wasn’t on the tills. When I returned our trolley to the rack in front of the store, I asked the security guy. He told me she quit her job, and Sally and Lexie moved away. I asked where they went, and he said Sally wouldn’t let on.”
“What happened to the dogs?” asked Gus.
“No idea,” said Gethin Hughes. “Lexie had stopped coming here after her father died.”
“We’ll let you get back to your game,” said Luke. “One of your girls has just scored an own goal. She’s the one stood in the goalmouth crying her eyes out.”
Gethin Hughes turned away and trotted over to console the little mite. Gus and Luke noticed the other man walking their way.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“We were asking Gethin what he knew about Lexie Kendall and her dogs,” said Gus.
“What’s it to you, then?”
Luke explained who they were.
“Oh, right. Mervyn Jessop, that’s me. I train the junior boys one week, and Gethin looks after the girls, then we swap over the next time. It was Lexie Kendall you were asking after, was it? Yes, well, Gethin knew her better than me. As for the dogs, Lexie’s father bought them as pups. Heaven knows what Ivan was thinking. I watched those dogs drag Lexie around this park week after week.”
“Did you notice anyone else taking an interest in the dogs, Mr Jessop?” asked Gus.
“The tinkers, you mean?” asked Jessop. “I saw them loitering when Lexie brought the dogs here.”
“When would that have been, Mr Jessop?” asked Luke.
“It was four years ago,” said Jessop, “hard to be accurate. I’d say the first time was in the summer, while I was creosoting the clubhouse walls, and helping repair the roof. Lexie came here every weekend through the winter. We get quite a few people up here during the football season. It’s not so easy to spot strangers then. The last time I saw those tinkers was around a month to six weeks before Ivan died.”
“Were they speaking to Lexie?” asked Gus.
“No, they stood beside a clapped-out white van, just watching her running with the dogs. I feared for her safety, despite the loose morals she had. So, several of the committee members agreed to walk over with me and tell the tinkers to move on. We told them there was nothing worth nicking in the clubhouse. They gave us a few choice words and then drove away.”
“Have they been back?” Gus asked.
“I’ve seen the van, on and off,” said Mervyn Jessop. “They visit the village from time to time, looking for work as tree surgeons. You’ll find their cards in everyone’s recycling box.”
“Where do you think they live?” asked Luke.
“There are a handful of unauthorised sites close by the village. The van’s number plate showed its registration was from Cardiff in the early Noughties. The first two letters were CB. They could have stayed on one of the city’s authorised sites.”
“I don’t suppose you took a note of the rest of the number plate?” asked Luke.
“They moved on, so there was no need. The van was so dirty it was hard to read.”
“Can you describe these men?” asked Gus.
“Medium height, medium build, dark-haired, with a swarthy complexion. The pair wore ragged clothing, with jeans and always a pair of well-worn labourer’s boots, regardless of the time of year.”
“Anything else?” asked Gus. “How old?”
“Older than me,” said Mervyn Jessop, “mid-forties, maybe. They were like two peas in a pod. Twins, I reckon.”
“That’s a help, Mr Jessop,” said Gus. “You’re very observant.”
“I give my free time over to community projects like this one, Mr Freeman. I’m a PCSO in my day job.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Gus, “have you been at it for long?”
“Only eighteen months,” said Mervyn Jessop. “I was a double-glazing sales agent before that.”
“That company’s loss is the community’s gain,” said Gus. “We’ll let you get back to the lads.”
“I don’t think I’ve got a future Welsh international among that lot, but it keeps them out of trouble.”
&nbs
p; “I’m sure their parents and the good folk of Pontyclun will be forever in your debt,” said Gus.
Mervyn Jessop trotted off to rejoin the red-faced lads racing around the pitch.
“That was a pleasant thing to say, guv,” said Luke.
“I’m sure Mr Jessop does his best, but some parents might not be so keen to learn that Mr Hughes isn’t above a little underage sex if the opportunity arises.”
“He told us Lexie was sixteen, guv,” said Luke.
“Well, he would, wouldn’t he?” replied Gus. “Mandy Rice-Davies was Welsh too, Luke, but I expect her famous quote would be before your time.”
“You’re right, guv. Back to the car?” asked Luke.
“I don’t think you need to visit the other small shops, Luke. We’ve covered the time when Ivan lost his job and the years just before his murder. Any photos you found would be as dated as the wedding photo. No, we’ll get back across the bridge and find out what Neil and Alex have got to say.”
CHAPTER 11
“We’re back,” cried Gus as he and Luke exited the lift. “Sorry, did I wake anyone?”
“Someone’s had a good day,” said Neil.
“We didn’t do so badly ourselves, Neil,” said Alex.
Gus flopped into his chair.
“After a fruitless visit to Cardiff Central,” he began, “we spoke to half a dozen people in Pontyclun that the local police missed four years ago. What we learned has given us plenty to work on.”
“Vaughn and Shaun Corbett, guv,” said Neil.
“Forty-seven-year-old twins,” said Alex, “part-time tree surgeons.”
“Stan Wakefield didn’t have his wife to keep him quiet this morning. He described these two as regular visitors to the camp. Their uncle was a chap called Jack Ayres. He’s dead now, but between 2010 and 2017 the twins stayed at the camp for several weeks at a time. Stan said they arrived on the first day of Spring each year.”
“Mr Wakefield confirmed the pair were in the Westbury area at the time of Kendall’s murder,” said Alex.
“Stan also told us they would have been there at the time Sid Dyer had his fatal accident.”
“That accident occurred after a stormy night,” said Gus. “The coroner decided Dyer lost control of his bike in high winds as an HGV passed him. I’m not sure we could prove that these two were responsible.”
“We’ve checked evidence recovered at the scene, guv,” said Alex. “Stan Wakefield said the white van the Corbett brothers used was always filthy. Soil samples from Dyer’s clothing and the bike’s pannier didn’t match with the grass verge. Forensics assumed it to have come from the other vehicle. There was no way to check because the driver didn’t realise he’d hit anyone. Well, that’s what they thought.”
“We returned to the campsite after lunch,” said Neil, “and collected samples from where the van would have parked. After a stormy night, their van collected large quantities of grime negotiating soggy grass and a waterlogged gateway.”
“We’re hoping the unmatched samples that forensic collected four years ago will have features that place them firmly in the campsite. It’s still circumstantial, but two years ago the police had stopped looking for Kendall’s killers. They wouldn’t link Dyer’s tragic accident to the travellers’ campsite.”
“Stan Wakefield identified the Corbett brothers by name, did he?” asked Luke.
“No, Jack Ayres had a large family spread over Wales,” said Neil. “He came from the North originally. We found birth records for his three brothers and two sisters. The eldest sister, Bronwen, married a Keith Corbett from Tredegar in June 1970. The twins arrived ten months later.”
“Excellent work,” said Gus. “We know who we’re looking for now. What about motive lads, have you worked that out too?”
“No, guv,” said Alex. “But the grin on Luke’s face suggests you’re closer than us.”
“We’re almost there, Alex,” said Gus. “You can all read the convoluted version in the Freeman Files after Luke, and I have updated our records. In simple terms, it was those dogs Lexie exercised. They were eighteen months old, fiery, and always wore muzzles. We don’t think Sally was aware of their existence. Ivan kept them in a shed on his allotment and tended to them during the week. Lexie exercised them at weekends and school holidays. The Corbett brothers arrived in Pontyclun and spotted the dogs. My guess is they followed Lexie to the allotments, waited until she left, and then stole them. Ivan found they were missing when he went to the allotments on Saturday afternoon.”
“How did Ivan know who took them?” asked Alex.
“Why didn’t Lexie tell her mother she knew where her Dad was going?” asked Lydia.
“I said we were almost there,” said Gus, spreading his hands wide.
“Did you get any new photos?” asked Blessing.
“A helpful lady from Tesco Express promised to send photos through, Blessing,” said Gus. “It might be Monday, though.”
“What do we do next, guv?” asked Neil.
“Based on their previous travel history, the Corbett brothers will be somewhere in Wales. I’ll phone DI Williams in a moment, and explain what we’ve learned. He can locate them and get them in for questioning. We’ll continue to hunt for Sally and her daughter.”
“How do we explain Alex’s question, guv,” said Luke. “How did Luke know who took them?”
“What do you think, Luke?” asked Gus.
“Lexie was at school in March, guv. The Easter holiday was weeks away. Ivan exercised the dogs during the week. Perhaps, he spotted the van trailing him around the village on his window-cleaning round. The Corbett brothers might even have approached Ivan and offered to buy the dogs.”
“That works, guv,” said Alex. “And Lexie couldn’t tell Sally a thing on Saturday night because the dogs were a secret between her and her Dad. Lexie had no idea her Dad was going to die. Later, she could have told Sally about the men who stared at her up at Ivor Park. That’s what scared Sally into thinking they were in danger. Lexie was more at risk than Sally because she could identify the killers and was aware of why Ivan travelled to Westbury. Ivan made the trip to rescue the dogs and bring them home.”
“There’s one missing piece in this jigsaw,” said Gus.
“How did the brothers know Ivan was going to be at Westbury station at a quarter to midnight?” said Neil.
“Ivan only had sixty-five pounds in his pocket,” said Luke. “How valuable were those dogs?”
“Ivan kept one secret from Sally,” said Gus. “What’s to say he didn’t keep another? Trainer and Sinclair never considered robbery as a motive. Vaughn and Shaun Corbett could have been clever and left a small amount on the body and took the balance of what Ivan agreed to pay to get his dogs back. The brothers kept the money and the dogs. Therefore Ivan had to die.”
“How did Ivan plan to get home?” asked Neil.
“I don’t think Ivan planned that far ahead,” said Gus. “He was naïve enough to believe that if he gave the brothers the money they’d hand over the dogs. Ivan was happy to sit on the station platform until he could use those return tickets.”
“Ivan needed a contact number, guv,” said Neil. “Where might that come from?”
“Hang on,” said Gus, “I met a fellow gardener at the allotments this afternoon. I’ve got her number here. Don’t look like that, Lydia. She wanted me to tell her how my champagne rhubarb responded to the treatment she suggested. You’re never too old to learn new tricks. Mrs Lewis? It’s Gus Freeman here. When you took over the patch of ground from Mr Kendall, was there anything left lying around in the shed?”
Neil and the others waited while Gus listened to Bethan Lewis.
“That’s fine, Mrs Lewis. No, I won’t forget to call you. Goodbye.”
“Any joy, guv?” asked Luke.
“Bethan Lewis said that the council cleared the shed of various small tools and the cages in which Ivan kept the dogs. There was nothing left inside except spiders.”
“That’s a shame,” said Neil.
“We can’t expect the answer to drop in our laps, Neil,” said Gus. “We’re not in a TV drama where the detectives must solve the case in fifty-two minutes. This is real life.”
“Mervyn Jessop, the PCSO made a telling remark, guv,” said Luke.
“Ah yes, the business cards. The Corbett brothers counted arboriculture among their skill set. Jessop said that at the appropriate time of the year the recycling trucks in Pontyclun included hundreds of discarded flyers. I can imagine them driving around the estates, noting houses with trees and shrubs in need of TLC. Then they dropped a card through the door when the homeowner was at work. If we can confirm that Ivan Kendall ever had a card in his possession, we will have squared the circle.”
Gus’s phone rang again.
“That was quick, Mrs Morgan. Bless you. Send them through now, and we’ll get started.”
Gus looked at the clock on the far wall.
“We’re getting close to unlocking the secrets of this case,” he said. “I can feel it. Dilys Morgan from the supermarket has a file of two dozen photos from Christmas 2013.”
“I don’t mind staying on, guv,” said Blessing.
“If Geoff Mercer were in his office, I’d call him and get clearance for overtime,” said Gus.
“The ACC will still be at London Road, guv,” said Neil.
“The ACC might say no, Neil,” said Gus. “No, I’ll take an executive decision. We stop at five as usual tonight. I’ll get Dai Williams to start the ball rolling. Alex and Lydia, you have a busy weekend ahead. I don’t wish to stand in the way of that. We look forward to hearing all about it on Monday. Can either of you two lads help Blessing and I tomorrow morning?”
“Count me in,” said Luke.
“Me too, guv,” said Neil.
“Well done,” said Gus. “If the ACC thinks I overstepped the mark I’ll sort out time off in lieu. If we can tie up loose ends before Monday’s meeting, it should soothe his fevered brow.”
Gus checked his computer for a new item in his inbox.
