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

by Simon McCleave

  There was a noise from higher above.

  Ruth could see Rachel and Abel climbing up onto a narrow wooden balcony close to the top of the tower.

  ‘Rachel! Stop there. Please. I want you to talk to me!’

  Grabbing on to the ladder, Ruth climbed past the mechanics. Looking up again, she could see that the ladder ended at the balcony where she had seen Rachel and Abel.

  As she neared the top of the ladder, she slowed her ascent as she scoured around for any sign of where Rachel had gone.

  Nothing.

  Where the hell are they? They can’t have just vanished into thin air.

  She could feel the wind charging boisterously around the bell tower. It howled and groaned as it swirled around her.

  There was the sound of creaking wood over to her left.

  It startled Ruth, and she turned and glanced but could see nothing.

  All she could hear was her pulse thudding in her eardrums and the howl of the wind.

  Suddenly, a figure rushed at her.

  It was Rachel.

  Shit!

  She kicked Ruth and caught her on the chin. Ruth almost lost her footing on the ladder as she reeled from the blow. It was a good twenty-foot drop to the belfry floor below.

  ‘Mummy! What are you doing?’ Abel whimpered from somewhere.

  Shaking her head to refocus, Ruth saw Rachel coming again. She ducked as Rachel went to kick her a second time and she managed to grab Rachel’s ankle.

  Rachel lost her balance and crashed onto the wooden balcony with a groan.

  Ruth pulled herself over the top of the ladder, tasting blood in her mouth.

  Am I here to arrest Rachel Ryan or to kill her? Ruth thought. I thought I would know by now.

  Getting to her feet, Rachel glared at Ruth. ‘Leave us alone!’ she shouted.

  Ruth yelled at her. ‘Just stop it. Whatever you thought was going to happen at Solace Farm two days ago, it didn’t happen. Just give yourself up.’

  ‘I cannot speak for God. I can’t presume to know his plans,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Now what?’ Ruth said, as she spotted Abel come from behind a thick wooden pillar.

  ‘I’m scared Mummy,’ he said quietly.

  ‘What are you going to do now, Rachel? What’s next in your extraordinary religious plan?’ Ruth said angrily.

  Rachel reached out, took Abel by the arm, and pulled him to her so that he was standing directly in front of her.

  ‘You don’t understand me. But Sian understood me. We sat in our chapel and she told me how she felt about her life, about the world,’ Rachel said.

  ‘Don’t you dare talk about her!’ Ruth growled in fury.

  ‘And then I saved her.’

  ‘Don’t say another word,’ Ruth hissed, feeling an overwhelming urge to attack her.

  Take it easy, Ruth said to herself, trying to calm down.

  Rachel glanced backwards as she moved with Abel towards the edge of the balcony.

  Ruth looked down. It was a sheer drop of about two hundred feet through the belfry’s trapdoor to the bottom of the cathedral.

  What the hell is she doing?

  ‘Whatever you’re thinking of doing, please don’t do it. Think of Abel,’ Ruth pleaded.

  ‘I am thinking of Abel. I want us to have a better life than the one we have.’ Rachel moved back further so that her feet were now on the edge.

  ‘Mummy, you’re hurting me,’ Abel said as he tried to move her arm from around his chest.

  ‘It’s all right darling. It’s going to be all right, I promise you.’

  Ruth crouched down and looked directly at Abel. ‘Why don’t you come over here, Abel? Just for a second?’

  ‘What are you doing?’ Rachel said.

  ‘I’m really scared, Mummy,’ Abel whispered.

  ‘Abel, just come over here for a second so I can talk to your mummy,’ Ruth said gently.

  ‘Don’t you dare go anywhere, Abel!’ Rachel said, holding him tighter and glaring at Ruth.

  Abel squirmed, wriggled, and then dropped down for a second to get out of his mother’s grasp.

  At that moment, Rachel took a step back, lost her footing, and fell backwards. Reaching out with her hands, she managed to clutch on to the edge of the balcony, but she was hanging in mid-air with the fatal drop below her.

  Ruth moved forward quickly and gestured to Abel. ‘Just go over there for me, Abel, while I help your mummy.’

  She went over and looked directly at Rachel who was grimacing as she clung on.

  Maybe I should let her fall and die? Isn’t that what she deserves? She took Sian away from me.

  Ruth crouched down. She knew she just couldn’t do that.

  ‘Take my hand,’ Ruth said, reaching out to help her.

  ‘I don’t think so. I’m going to go and be at peace now,’ Rachel said as she loosened her grip.

  Ruth leapt forward, grabbed the back of her jacket, pulled, and got her hands underneath Rachel’s arms. With an almighty heave, she pulled Rachel back up onto the platform.

  ‘Here you go ...’ said a voice.

  It was Nick. He handed her a pair of handcuffs.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ruth gasped as she pinned Rachel to the floor, pulled her hands behind her back, and cuffed her.

  ‘Rachel Ryan. I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Detective Constable Sian Hockney.’

  CHAPTER 42

  The wind flicked a wisp of hair across Ruth’s face. The sun was warm, and the polite conversation at the funeral had been about a nice service and that the weather was nice, almost like a spring day.

  Ruth didn’t care. The grief she felt at that moment ripped at her very insides. Ella’s hand felt warm in hers as they led the congregation out to the graveside.

  Nothing about the day so far had felt real. The music from Air’s Moon Safari album that Ruth knew Sian loved so much. Ruth’s attempt at some kind of eulogy that had been interspersed with tears and deep breaths. She couldn’t even remember what she had said now. It was as if she was watching everything through the lens of a film camera.

  Stopping close to the mounds of earth that had been dug from Sian’s waiting grave, Ruth squeezed Ella’s hand.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum,’ Ella whispered, her eyes glassy with tears.

  Ruth nodded and forced a smile to say she was all right.

  Nothing is okay. Nothing is all right. How is it possible that Sian has been ripped from our lives? How is that fair?

  She looked at the coffin and pictured Sian inside. She had picked up Sian’s black police dress uniform from work and then dropped it off at the funeral directors. Sian hadn’t liked the uniform but her brother was insistent that she should be dressed in it and Ruth wasn’t going to argue.

  What a strange, cruel thing death is.

  ‘I’m never going to see her again,’ Ruth mumbled with trembling lips. The pain of that thought was just too much to bear. For a moment she felt dizzy, nearly lost her footing, and Ella had to support her.

  ‘Sorry ... I’m all right. It’s okay, darling,’ she whispered, looking at Ella’s sad face.

  She watched as the coffin was lowered slowly into the ground. She and Ella stepped forward, took some earth, and sprinkled it on top.

  I don’t want to say goodbye to you. And I wish so much that I could believe I’m going to see you again in a better place.

  Turning back from the grave, Ruth felt Ella put her arm around her shoulder.

  ‘You know what Sian would want us to do now?’ Ella said quietly.

  ‘Get drunk,’ Ruth said, feeling the tiniest glimmer of a smile on her face at the thought of Sian, and the times the three of them had drunk and laughed together.

  ‘Exactly,’ Ella said.

  A figure moved towards her. It was Nick. Next to him was Amanda and she was holding Megan.

  Nick stepped forward and took Ruth in his arms.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to say,’ he said as his voice qui
vered.

  ‘You don’t have to say anything,’ Ruth whispered as she held him tight.

  After a few seconds, she moved back and looked up into his face.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  He reached out and placed both hands gently on her shoulders. ‘Let me know if you need anything.’

  Ruth nodded and then looked over at Amanda.

  ‘I’m really sorry, Ruth,’ Amanda said.

  Ruth went to her and they embraced. ‘You know the one bright spot of the day is seeing you and Megan here. I’m so glad you’re okay.’

  Ruth looked at Megan and held her tiny hand. ‘And how is my beautiful god-daughter? She’s changed so much.’

  ‘She’s being a monkey this morning, but we got here,’ Amanda said with a smile as she jigged Megan up and down.

  Ruth felt the phone in her pocket vibrate.

  Thought I had turned that off?

  Taking it out, she looked down at the screen.

  A text reminder. Secret Garden – This Saturday.

  The very thought of it made her feel sick. Ruth turned the phone off.

  CHAPTER 43

  It was Saturday night. Nick brought two mugs of tea through for him and Amanda.

  He went back to get biscuits and then slumped down on the sofa next to her.

  He let out a huge sigh. ‘Sorted.’

  ‘What did I ever do to deserve you?’ Amanda said, digging him playfully in the ribs.

  ‘Dunno. I guess the stars aligned that day,’ he answered with a smile.

  ‘Don’t push it. You only got me tea and biscuits,’ Amanda joked.

  They had spent the day lounging, taking Megan for a walk, and napping. They were both exhausted after a week from hell.

  Nick was also drained by the mixed emotions that he see-sawed between. The joy and relief of Amanda being well and returning home. However, the grief of Sian’s death undercut all that. There had been moments that day when he had felt guilty for laughing while playing with Megan, or joking around with Amanda.

  ‘You okay?’ Amanda asked softly.

  Nick shrugged. ‘Not really. I’ve lost colleagues before but Sian was a mate. We were close. It’s really thrown me ... I feel so sorry for Ruth but I don’t know what to do for her.’

  Amanda reached over and put her hand to his face. ‘You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t upset. Give yourself a break, eh?’

  Nick nodded and looked at her. ‘Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?’

  ‘Aww, thank you. You’re not so bad yourself,’ she said with a smile as she took his face in her hands and kissed him.

  ‘We’re going to be all right, aren’t we?’ Nick said.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Out of two, I’d give you one,’ he quipped.

  ‘Really? ... Not tonight, buster. I’m so tired I can hardly move,’ Amanda groaned.

  Nick shrugged. ‘That’s okay. I don’t need you to move.’

  Amanda gave him a playful slap and laughed. ‘Eww. You really are a disgusting man sometimes.’

  They laughed and simultaneously picked up their mugs of tea.

  In the silence, Amanda put her head on Nick’s chest.

  ‘I can hear it whirring,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your brain,’ Amanda replied. ‘Give her a ring.’

  Nick furrowed his brow.

  ‘Ruth. I know you’re worried about how she’s doing. Just give her a ring. She’ll be glad to hear from you.’

  ‘I don’t want to bother her,’ Nick said.

  ‘Just do it,’ Amanda said, as she reached for the landline and handed it to him.

  Nick knew she was right. He knew how much Ruth had been through in the last seven years after Sarah’s disappearance. Now, Sian’s death would have come as a hammer blow. He didn’t know how she was going to survive it.

  He dialled her mobile phone and heard it ring.

  ‘Hello Nick. Everything okay?’ she asked as she answered his call.

  ‘Yes, yes. We’re all fine. We just wanted to see how you’re doing?’

  ‘You know. Up and down, but I’m okay.’ He could tell that she was trying to sound upbeat.

  Amanda tapped Nick on the arm and mouthed, ‘Ask her what she’s doing.’

  ‘Amanda wants to know what you’re doing. I think that’s incredibly nosey but I have to do what I’m told,’ Nick said with a smile.

  ‘Tell her I’m in bed, eating Maltesers, watching Bridesmaids, and falling asleep,’ Ruth laughed.

  ‘Lucky you. I would never get away with eating Maltesers in bed,’ Nick quipped.

  ‘And Ella is coming over tomorrow for the day. She’s cooking me Sunday lunch.’

  ‘Good. That sounds perfect. Do let us know if you need anything,’ Nick said.

  ‘Thanks. To be honest, I’m so tired I’ll probably sleep until Ella gets here in the morning. You guys have a good night and I’ll see you Monday. Goodnight,’ Ruth said as she ended the call.

  ‘Night,’ Nick said, and put the phone down on the table.

  ‘Feel better?’ Amanda asked.

  ‘Yes, much. Thanks,’ he said with a smile as he settled back on the sofa and wrapped Amanda in his arms.

  ‘I told you you didn’t need to worry.’

  RUTH TOOK HER MOBILE phone from her ear and put it safely into her handbag. Part of her wished she really was in bed, eating Maltesers and watching Bridesmaids.

  She pulled out her red Dior lipstick and applied it, looking into the ornate mirror. Her face looked back at her - a narrow black mask across her eyes.

  At least it hides the bags and wrinkles, she thought sardonically.

  Ruth had been in London for over two hours. She had made her way to Baker Street where the London Planetarium was situated. It was also the venue for that evening’s Secret Garden Masked Ball. The irony that she was only a stone’s throw from the home of the world’s most famous detective wasn’t lost on her.

  Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her bra and the shoulders of her black, low cut top. She found it difficult to look at herself in the mirror without some sense of disappointment. She couldn’t help but focus on what was wrong with her.

  What the bloody hell am I doing here? she wondered with a curious, darkly ironic voice in her head. She had started drinking on the train down and she was now past tipsy. It was the only way to get through it, she told herself.

  A tall, painfully thin woman came in and stood by the adjacent basin. She adjusted her hair and her mask, and then began to apply lipstick. Ruth watched her in the reflection of the mirror but she spotted her.

  Oh God! Do I say hello? What is the correct protocol at a London sex party?

  ‘First time?’ the woman asked with a smile. She had a cut glass English accent.

  Ruth nodded. ‘Yes, actually. You?’

  ‘God no! I’m a veteran ... I’m Fiona,’ the woman said.

  ‘Ruth.’

  Fiona fished into her bag and pulled out a tiny vessel of white powder – cocaine. She opened it, scooped up some of the contents in a tiny silver spoon, lifted it to her nostril, and sniffed. She then offered it to Ruth. ‘Have some of this. It makes the whole thing a lot more fun and gets rid of any nerves.’

  Ruth put up her hand. ‘Oh, no thanks. I’m having a night off.’

  I haven’t had cocaine for over twenty-five years, she thought to herself.

  Fiona nodded as she put the vessel back into her handbag and sniffed again.

  ‘Right. I guess I’ll see you out in the trenches. My advice is to have a look around. Get used to it. And then when you’re ready to go over the top, take a deep breath and dive in,’ she said with a chortle as she disappeared.

  What’s with all the First World War metaphors?

  Ruth took another deep breath and reminded herself why she was there. Sarah had frequented these parties before she had gone missing. Jamie Parsons, the man she had had an affair with, was the owner of the Secret Party compan
y. And Jurgen Kessler, the man who haunted her in her dreams, was a regular.

  Heading for the door, Ruth went out into the warm darkness of the corridor outside. Everywhere was lit by candles, and the air smelled of expensive perfume.

  She felt the thick carpet beneath her heels as she wandered along. A muscular man in a bow tie and tight black cycling shorts offered her a flute of champagne. Taking it with a smile, she drank the first half in two gulps.

  I need Dutch courage if I’m going to do this.

  Looking left, she saw a room in shadow. Against the wall, a couple were kissing. Then Ruth saw that the woman had her legs around the man’s waist – they were having sex.

  Walking further up the corridor, she began to wonder what else she was going to find. More importantly, where were Jamie Parsons and Jurgen Kessler? And what was she going to do if they were there?

  At the far end, double doors led to an enormous ballroom with a vast, painted ceiling, Renaissance sofas, and a string quartet playing in the corner. As she squinted, she could see various couples or threesomes on the sofas, and in the darkened corners of the room.

  She drank the rest of her champagne, put the empty glass on a table by the door, and stepped inside.

  CHAPTER 44

  As Ruth opened her eyes, she felt cold, ruffled sheets against her face. Trying to collect her thoughts, she became aware that she wasn’t in her own bed. It smelled and felt different. She was also aware of the throbbing hangover that made her head feel like it was trapped in a steel vice.

  Where the bloody hell am I - and what happened last night? As she breathed, she was sure that the fumes she was exhaling must have been 90% proof.

  Looking around, she saw that she was in a hotel room. With that realisation came a growing anxiety. It definitely wasn’t the hotel room that she’d checked into the evening before. It was enormous, with sweeping floor-to-ceiling burgundy drapes, and high corniced ceilings.

  The door to the bathroom opened, and a naked woman walked out with just a white towel wrapped around her head.

  ‘Morning sleepyhead,’ she said in her cut glass accent.