The Solace Farm Killings: A Snowdonia Murder Mystery (A DI Ruth Hunter Crime Thriller Book 7)

by Simon McCleave

  She scoured the contents. If the mounds she had seen did turn out to be graves, she prayed that there was something in that book that might indicate who they were. Otherwise it would be a painstaking and grisly trawl through missing persons, forensics, DNA, dental records, tattoos, and anything else that could be used to identify the bodies.

  Nick stood beside her open door. ‘You okay, boss?’

  ‘Yeah, getting there.’ Ruth sat back carefully on her chair - her leg was still sore from the shard of glass.

  ‘Any word on Sian?’ he asked.

  ‘No, nothing. Same as last night,’ Ruth said, now thinking that maybe she should call the ICU again.

  ‘Don’t worry. You know Sian ...’

  ‘Yeah. I know she’s strong. And I know she’s a fighter,’ Ruth snapped. She was fed up of hearing the same platitudes.

  ‘Sorry, I just meant ...’ Nick said defensively.

  Bollocks. I didn’t mean to jump down his throat.

  ‘Ignore me ... I didn’t sleep well, that’s all,’ Ruth said as she gestured to the large mug of coffee she was nursing.

  Nick indicated Incident Room 1. ‘I just came to say that everyone’s here for the briefing, boss.’

  ‘Nick ...?’ Ruth said, and as he looked back at her she added ‘... thanks.’ He nodded. He knew what she meant.

  Ruth got up, grabbed her files and, even though she didn’t have much energy, went into DI mode. It would be good to get stuck into the investigation rather than think about what was happening to Sian.

  ‘Morning everyone. If we can settle down please,’ she said quietly on reaching the scene boards in the middle of the room. ‘I know that yesterday was horrendous so I really appreciate you being here today. I realise you’ll all be worried about Sian. I’ve spoken to the hospital and although she is still critical, she’s stable, and she had a decent night.’ Ruth’s eyes instinctively flitted over to Sian’s desk. ‘Okay. There were seven fatalities in yesterday’s operation. Only one of these was caused by a gunshot wound from a firearms officer. That will be dealt with internally by the TFU to start with. The other six victims died in the fire. Clearly, any deaths are tragic, but I also think that if we’re being realistic about what we were facing before the operation, it could have been a lot worse than that. We’re going to have some very challenging police work to do in the next few weeks and even months. That means we need to be meticulous and do our best work for the victims and their families.’

  Ruth went to a photograph of Rachel Ryan on the scene board. She couldn’t help feeling more than a twinge of anger. This is the woman she was convinced had shot Sian. ‘This, as most of you know, is Rachel Ryan. She was the leader of the cult at Solace Farm. However, at the moment, we do not know of her whereabouts or whether she is even alive. It may be that she perished in the fire yesterday. Only the PMs will be able to tell us that. Nick, what have we got so far?’

  Nick moved to the centre of the room with his hand in his right pocket. ‘At the moment, seven bodies have been recovered from the buildings at Solace Farm. Unfortunately, it looks like the victims were all so badly burnt that we’re going to have to rely on dental records and DNA for identification.’ He pointed to the aerial photograph of a field. ‘SOCO have arrived at this field which is adjacent to the farm. There appears to be fourteen graves here, although at the moment we have no confirmation that there are human remains at the site. However, I do think we have to prepare ourselves for the likelihood that SOCO might find fourteen bodies. We’ll then have the job of identifying those victims too.’

  Ruth nodded, pointed to the photo of Rachel Ryan again, and said in an uncompromising tone, ‘It is my belief that Rachel Ryan is responsible for whatever we find in that field, and for kidnapping and shooting Sian. So, if she is still alive, then I want her found. Nick and I will start to interview those residents of Solace Farm who are up to it. I also want to know where we’re at with the connection between Mold Magistrates’ Court and the farm. As most of you know, we believe that vulnerable teenagers were being groomed by someone at the court. We believe that some of those who were released on bail, or on a community order, were then taken to Solace Farm for what they were told would be a new life. But we also know that a number of them are now missing. I want to know what was going on, and how that was allowed to happen.’

  French looked up. ‘Boss, I looked again at the CCTV footage of Ketha Langley from June 2018. I want you to see this.’

  He clicked on his computer monitor and Ruth walked over to see what he had found. The grainy footage showed the road outside Mold Magistrates’ Court. Nick had shown her the footage before.

  ‘This is Ketha Langley, right?’ Ruth asked him, as Nick wandered over to look.

  ‘Yes, boss. And we know that she got into this blue Land Rover registered to Simon Walters at Solace Farm. However, there is a young man here who seems to be talking to her as she leaves the court. He walks with her up to the point where she is picked up. And here ... he gestures,’ French said, playing the footage.

  ‘Looks like he’s organised the whole thing,’ Nick remarked.

  ‘Any idea who he is?’ Ruth asked, pointing to the screen.

  ‘I did a screen grab of him and cleaned it up. He’s wearing a black jumper over a white shirt and black tie. And this here. This is a permanent security lanyard. It’s a different shape, size and colour to the ones they give out on the day.’ French turned to look at her. ‘So that means he’s a permanent member of staff.’

  ‘We should be able to track him down,’ Nick said.

  ‘If he still works there,’ Ruth pointed out.

  ‘He does. Since 2013, Mold Magistrates’ Court has allowed TV cameras into the Court of Appeal. Last year ITV Wales showed this footage of an appeal case.’ French pointed to a man in the courtroom. ‘Recognise him?’

  ‘That’s our guy,’ Ruth said with a nod.

  ‘Antonio Santos. He’s worked as a judicial assistant at the court since 2010,’ French explained.

  Ruth tapped his shoulder. ‘Excellent work, Dan. You and Nick go and have a chat with him.’ Ruth headed back to the centre of the room. ‘Listen up everyone. I want us to concentrate on getting witness statements from everyone who was at the farm yesterday. We’re in a bit of a limbo until we hear back from SOCO about what’s in that field, and get feedback from the preliminary PMs from the mortuary. So get everything in order, because we’re going to have our work cut out when we do start to get those results. Let’s get to work and we’ll reconvene here at six this evening. Thank you everyone.’

  Ruth turned to leave as the CID detectives started getting their stuff ready to go out, or continued working at their computer screens. Before she reached her office, Nick had intercepted her. He was carrying a print-out.

  ‘Boss, email from our illustrious friend at the mortuary, Professor Amis,’ Nick said gesturing to the print-out.

  ‘Anything interesting?’ Ruth asked.

  ‘First body he looked at had a necklace burnt into the skin around the neck and onto the chest. He’s managed to remove it.’ Nick showed her a photo.

  The image showed a melted, gold necklace. However, in its middle was a distinctive twisted cross.

  Nick looked at Ruth. ‘Wasn’t Rachel Ryan wearing that type of necklace when we first went up to the farm to speak to her?’

  Ruth nodded. ‘Yeah, she was.’

  ‘Looks like she died in the fire, boss.’

  CHAPTER 35

  As Nick and French made their way into Mold town centre, Nick’s thoughts turned to Amanda. He wondered how much longer she would be kept in the psychiatric ward. It was true what his sponsor, Dundee Bill, said. You never know what’s coming down the pipe, son. It was one of his favourite sayings. And Bill was spot on, as Nick had assumed that once they had got Megan home, it would be domestic bliss. He was prepared for the dirty nappies and the sleepless nights. After the alcoholic rollercoaster he had been on since his early 20s, he knew how lucky he w
as to be in recovery, to have found Amanda, and to have a new-born baby. His life could have gone a very different way. But he wasn’t prepared for Amanda to be so unwell. It had completely destabilised him. He had worked his twelve-step programme and lived his life one day at a time.

  ‘Can’t help worrying about Sian,’ French muttered, breaking Nick’s train of thought.

  ‘She’s a tough old bird, if you’re still allowed to say stuff like that,’ Nick said.

  ‘I should have stopped her going up there when I had the chance.’

  ‘Mate, you can’t blame yourself for that. You didn’t take her hostage and shoot her.’

  French nodded but Nick could see that he wasn’t convinced.

  Nick parked the car outside Mold Magistrates’ Court. ‘She’s gonna be fine. Don’t worry,’ he said as he turned off the ignition.

  In a previous incarnation, Nick would have found French too ‘posh’, ‘stuck up’ or ‘intellectual’, to give him a chance. When he was drinking, Nick was incredibly judgemental. However, he knew that French was an honest, smart and caring copper, and even though they were like chalk and cheese, he really admired him.

  They walked up the stone steps to the courthouse, marched over to reception, and produced their warrant cards.

  ‘DS Evans and DC French from Llancastell CID. We’re looking for Antonio Santos,’ Nick said.

  ‘Yes. Let me just check for you.’ The receptionist opened a ledger. ‘Antonio is working in Court No 3 today. I’m not sure they’ve started in there yet though.’

  ‘And Court No 3 is ...?’ Nick asked with a smile.

  ‘Up the stairs and straight down to the end,’ she said, gesturing towards the wide staircase.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What do we think Santos’ interest was in these kids?’ French asked as they got to the top of the stairs.

  ‘Can’t rule anything out at the moment. Maybe it’s a religious thing?’ Nick suggested.

  ‘Santos thought he was saving these kids’ souls by arranging for them to go and live at Solace Farm?’ French said, thinking out loud.

  ‘I’ve heard of stranger things.’

  French pointed to a sign - Magistrates’ Court No 3. ‘Here we go.’

  At that moment, the doors opened and three people came out of the courtroom. Nick immediately saw that one of them was Antonio Santos, and walked towards him. ‘Mr Santos?’

  Santos stopped as the others walked away down the corridor.

  ‘Yes. Can I help?’ He already looked jittery.

  ‘We’re investigating the events at Solace Farm. If you watch the news, you’re probably already aware of what has been going on there?’ French asked.

  ‘It’s been hard to miss. But I’m not sure what that has to do with me ...’ he replied.

  ‘We were hoping to ask you a few questions to help with our investigation,’ Nick clarified.

  Santos frowned. ‘I’m due in court in half an hour.’

  ‘Won’t take more than a few minutes. Is there somewhere quiet we can talk?’

  Santos pointed back into Court 3. ‘The courtroom’s free at the moment.’

  ‘Great,’ Nick said.

  He opened one of the double doors, allowing Nick and French through first.

  Without entering, he slammed the door behind them.

  Shit!

  ‘Bloody hell!’ French seethed as he grabbed the door and swung it open.

  As Nick glanced down the corridor, he saw Santos running towards the far end before disappearing through a door that had a green Fire Exit sign.

  Nick and French gave chase, their feet clattering noisily on the hard floor. Opening the fire exit door, Nick could see that the staircase went both upstairs and down.

  For a second, he listened for any indication of which way Santos had gone.

  Nothing.

  ‘You go up, I’ll go down,’ he yelled to French, and he took off down the narrow staircase before French had a chance to respond.

  Taking two steps at time, he began to get a rhythm going as he held the metal handrail to get his balance.

  He stopped again. This time he could hear footsteps.

  Glancing over the handrail, he could sense they were coming from below.

  Thundering down the remaining stairs, he reached the basement. The ceiling was low, and the metal pipes from the courthouse heating system were twisted and turned above him.

  Another noise. Nick glanced right and saw a long narrow corridor. He could hear a low hum which must have been from the heating system.

  Running along the corridor, he checked every space and every door. Nothing.

  Where the bloody hell has he gone?

  He came to an open door marked Boiler Room.

  Stepping in carefully, he could feel the thick heat as soon as he was inside. The space was dark and filled with huge iron pipes.

  Peering cautiously into the gloom, Nick spotted movement.

  Santos came from behind a pipe holding a huge wrench. His hand was shaking and he looked terrified.

  That’s not a good idea, Nick thought dryly. Santos didn’t look like a man who was ever going to attack a copper with a wrench.

  ‘Okay, Antonio. Why don’t you put that down before you get yourself into real trouble,’ Nick said calmly.

  Santos looked as if he was on the verge of tears. ‘You’ve hurt enough people ...’ he muttered, ‘... and then what you did to my mother yesterday ...’

  For a moment, Nick was shocked. ‘Your mother?’

  Santos looked at him dejectedly but said nothing.

  ‘Your mother lives at Solace Farm?’ Nick asked quizzically.

  ‘Yes, of course. That’s why you came to talk to me isn’t it?’ he mumbled.

  ‘You sent teenagers up to Solace Farm because your mother lived up there?’ Nick said thinking out loud.

  Santos put the wrench down rather pathetically. ‘I want to talk to my solicitor before I say anything else.’

  RUTH APPROACHED THE field with the thought of the previous day’s events in her head. It was hard to think about anything else. The dove-grey clouds were static above her, and the naked trees reached up with their skeletal branches. She strode along an earthy path that sparkled and crunched as if there was sugar underfoot. The sound took her back to walks across Clapham Common as a child, when she and her brother would find joy in just marching on hard, frosty grass.

  As she turned past the hedgerow, she could see that the forensic excavation was well underway. There was an uneasy silence. Way above the trees was the distinctive sight of a hen harrier making its circling flight on the air currents while looking for prey below.

  SOCO vans were parked close to police patrol cars on the right hand side of the field. Entrances had been taped off and were guarded by uniformed officers to keep away ‘rubberneckers’ - police slang for nosey locals - and members of the press.

  The sight of the long row of earthen mounds along the far left hand side of the field sent a shudder through Ruth. What were they? If they were graves, as she feared, who were the occupants? Were they really the final resting places of neglected teenagers, or others on the fringe of society, whom Rachel Ryan had tried to ‘save’?

  The silence was broken by the deep rumble of a small JCB digger that started to move in the distance. Half a dozen SOCO officers stood beside the first couple of graves. Two were crouched down using forensic trowels and brushes.

  She stepped under the police tape and Drake walked across to her. He dug his hands deep into his black overcoat. He wore an appropriately solemn expression on his face.

  ‘Anything yet, boss?’ Ruth asked.

  ‘They’ve just found something in the first hole, but not confirmed anything yet,’ he said, as he hunched his shoulders and tried to keep warm. ‘You okay?’

  ‘I’ve had better weeks,’ she replied. After a pause she continued, ‘The preliminary PM of the first body from the fire has revealed a necklace which we saw Rachel Ryan wearing
when we spoke to her.’

  ‘Maybe she died in the fire then. That will save the CPS a mammoth task of building a case against her.’

  Ruth wasn’t sure how she felt about this. There was part of her that wanted Rachel Ryan brought to justice for what she had done.

  The Senior SOCO, Alexander Travis, approached. He was dressed all in white and wearing a mask. Ruth recognised him from previous crime scenes, and he nodded in greeting as he reached them.

  ‘What have we got, Alex?’ Drake asked.

  ‘Human remains, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Any idea how long they’ve been there?’ Ruth queried.

  ‘Ball park, a year. Maybe longer.’

  Drake raised his eyebrows. ‘Anything that can help us?’

  ‘At first look, I’d say a young female.’

  ‘Anything else? Any hope of traces of tattoos or scars?’ Ruth probed.

  ‘Sorry. The skin degenerated a long time ago. We did find a lot of jewellery with the remains though, if that helps?’

  ‘Jewellery?’ Ruth’s mind was leaping ahead.

  ‘Lots of earrings, a few smaller studs. Maybe from the nose or mouth?’ I’ll keep you informed as we go along.’

  As Travis turned and went, Drake looked over at Ruth. ‘You think you know who it is?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah. It’s Ketha Langley.’

  CHAPTER 36

  Nick and French had dropped Santos at Llancastell nick. They had charged him with resisting arrest, and he had immediately insisted on having a solicitor when being questioned. While Santos waited in a custody cell, Nick had managed to track down a temporary address for his mother, Maria Santos, who he knew had been living at Solace Farm.

  French was driving them to an address on the outskirts of Llancastell where Maria had said she was going to be staying with her sister.