‘It might take me some time.’
‘I need the details now.’ Drake raised his voice.
‘Okay, calm down.’
Calm down.
‘This is a murder enquiry, you cretin. I need the information right now.’
The minute that elapsed felt like ten until he heard the foreman’s voice again. Drake nodded at Sara.
‘I’ve got an address.’
Sara tapped the postcode into the satnav. Drake almost collided with a car turning into the car park as he left. He reminded Sara to direct the armed response vehicle to the new location and he listened as she called operational control.
Drake blasted the horn at a car dawdling at twenty-five miles an hour. He shouted profanities at the driver.
The barn conversion was in an isolated spot near one of the villages close to Caernarfon.
Drake parked on the road outside. A length of fencing slotted together formed the outer perimeter of the building site. The place looked quiet; Drake started having doubts that his theory was correct. He got out of the car as a message reached his mobile explaining that the armed response vehicle was delayed by a four-car pile-up on the A55. Traffic police were removing the debris to make it safe for the vehicle to pass. For now Drake and Sara were on their own.
He unlocked the fencing sections and ran over to the building.
New windows and doors had already been fitted. He pushed open the door; bags of cement and plaster lined the wall to his right. At the far end of the passageway bits of plasterboard had been thrown into one corner alongside offcuts of timber.
A moment’s hesitation crossed his mind that his stab vest was no protection against a bullet.
He should wait for the armed response vehicle where a bulletproof vest would be available. He dismissed his concerns. He had to prevent more loss of life. He owed it to Sioned and his brother. And for a second Drake thought about his father, what he might think knowing his granddaughter was in danger. He would do everything to protect his family. At the end of the hallway, Drake entered a corridor, a staircase ahead of him.
Sara was behind him. There was an odd aroma in the air. Sara rubbed her nose; Drake nodded. It smelled like day-old takeaway Chinese. Drake’s pulse beat a little faster knowing someone had eaten food here. Two large double doors led into a tentative sitting room and Drake peered in. Bare wires hung out of square metal boxes in the walls and dangled down from holes in the ceiling.
Back in the corridor Drake reached the end and inspected the kitchen. It too was empty. Drake pressed on to complete the search. Maldwyn would have found somewhere safe for Sioned. Surely Glyn Talbot wouldn’t discover them here?
At the bottom of the staircase Drake stopped; there was a scratching sound from upstairs.
He turned to look at Sara; she frowned, glancing at the stairs.
Luckily the risers didn’t creak as Drake and Sara ventured slowly upstairs. Drake fingered his service baton. It reassured him, but not as much as having two armed officers behind him. He counted four doors on the top floor. He pushed open the first; the various units for a bathroom were propped up against a wall in their boxes. Water pipes protruded from the walls and a large stain covered the floor.
The second room was empty too. Electricians had been working on the third judging by the fitted switches and lights. At the end of the landing in the final room tall boxes of fitted wardrobes dominated the space but what took Drake’s attention was the strong odour of stale food.
‘What’s that smell?’ Sara said.
Before Drake could reply he heard movement from behind the unpacked furniture. A figure appeared, wielding a long piece of timber that she swung viciously towards Drake and Sara. They jumped out of the way as Sioned lost her balance and fell in a heap on the floor.
Chapter 39
Sioned sobbed with relief when she realised it was Drake and Sara. Drake kicked the piece of timber to one side. Sara fussed over Sioned, making certain she was unharmed.
‘I need you to tell me what happened,’ Drake said.
Sioned gathered her composure, taking large lungfuls of breath. ‘Once Maldwyn learned about Frank he got completely spooked. He told us we were in danger. He said we had to find somewhere safe.’
‘You should have called me.’
‘Maldwyn wouldn’t listen. He panicked.’
Drake knelt down. Sioned wasn’t making any sense. He needed to get a clear picture, learn precisely what Maldwyn had witnessed.
‘Sioned, tell me exactly what Maldwyn told you.’ Gradually Sioned calmed down, her breathing evened out and she glanced at Sara who smiled, then at Drake who gave her an encouraging look.
‘He was there.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Heulwen Beard hadn’t charged Mal for some legal advice. Mal and Frank had been fishing. So Frank agreed they’d leave her two salmon.’
‘So Maldwyn was at Heulwen Beard’s house the morning she was murdered.’
Sioned nodded. Then she caught her breath.
Drake continued but his mouth was dry. ‘Did Mal see who killed her?’
Sioned started to shake. ‘He heard them arguing.’
‘Did he see the man, recognise him?’
Sioned drew hair from her face – she looked tired and dirty. ‘He said it was Glyn Talbot.’
A vice suddenly released the tension suffocating Drake. There had been two eyewitnesses – Frank Smith and Maldwyn. Now he had to find Maldwyn before Glyn Talbot did.
The sound of footsteps on concrete and then heavy boots on the staircase drifted into the room. Seconds later two heavily armed police officers appeared in the doorway. Drake and Sara held aloft their warrant cards.
‘Constable Warren,’ the older of the officers said, introducing himself. ‘And this is Constable Jack Pike.’
Both men scanned the room, and then Sioned. ‘Do you still need us, sir? We shall have to report to the SFC.’
Superintendent Price would be the strategic firearms commander. Any decision authorising the discharge of their weapons would have to be taken by him. They were a long way from any such decision.
‘You can return to your vehicle for the time being.’
Warren and Pike nodded, relaxed a fraction and exited the building.
Drake turned back to Sioned who gradually composed herself. If the sight of two muscular, heavily armed police officers couldn’t reassure her then nothing would.
‘Why did Maldwyn leave?’
‘Carwyn, his brother, texted him.’
Drake glanced at Sara. She shared the tightening knot of worry in his stomach.
Drake tried not to sound fearful. ‘Do you know where he went?’
Sioned bit her lip nervously. ‘He didn’t say. He looked worried, I mean proper worried.’
* * *
Sioned blinked away tears as she shook her head. Sara held her arms as they walked out and over to Drake’s car. The armed response vehicle was parked immediately behind his Mondeo, both officers standing, wide-legged, nearby. The radio crackled.
Drake’s mobile went off. He recognised Superintendent Price’s number.
‘Update,’ Price said.
Deploying firearms officers happened so rarely in Northern Division of the WPS that it sharpened every officer’s attention, made brevity an art form.
‘We rescued Sioned Jackson. Negative on Maldwyn Owen. I’m taking her back to Llanberis.’
‘Keep me informed.’
Drake rang off and immediately called Gareth Winder.
‘Where are you, Gareth?’
‘Outside Glyn Talbot’s property. There’s no sign of him anywhere, boss. The place looks deserted.’
‘Do house-to-house. Somebody must have seen him; somebody must know where he is.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘No sign of Glyn Talbot?’ Sara said.
Drake shook his head. ‘He can’t simply disappear off the face of the earth.’
Sioned sat in the b
ack seat of the car shivering when Drake reached for his mobile and dialled Huw Jackson’s number. ‘She’s safe.’
‘Thank Christ for that. She is all right? I mean… unharmed.’
Drake glanced at Sioned. ‘You can talk to her yourself.’ He gave Sioned his mobile and leaned against the car while she reassured her father she was in one piece, and safe.
Drake knew how he’d feel if either of his daughters had been caught up in something like this. It would be like staring into some bottomless pit. He did not want to imagine it. He glanced inside; Sioned was crying now. He read the time; they had to get back to Llanberis. Something had lured Maldwyn away. Computing everything they now knew about Glyn Talbot gave him grounds to arrest him for murder: the argument with Harry Jones, his history of intimidation at work and his obsession with the bomb storage facility which led him to kill Heulwen Beard when she refused to agree not to sell the land. He cursed himself that he hadn’t made the connection earlier. Talbot had been the first at the scene of her death. His demeanour that day had been dismissed as distress, anguish, but Drake saw it now as guilt.
He motioned for the armed response team to follow him and he got into his car as Sioned finished the call. She passed him the handset only for it to ring immediately. It was area control. ‘There’s an urgent message for you to contact the family of Maldwyn Owen.’
Drake dialled the number.
A man’s voice answered, instantly drowned out by a woman crying hysterically in the background. Then she demanded to speak. There was a fumbling as the receiver was passed from one hand to the next.
‘It’s Carwyn.’ Drake recognised Liz Owen’s voice. She broke up. ‘He’s gone too. Both of my boys, gone.’
‘What do you mean?’
Nobody listened to Drake’s question; it sounded like the handset had fallen on the floor and was being kicked around like a football. Seconds later Andy Owen continued.
‘Carwyn, our youngest, has gone missing.’
‘I’ll be with you as quickly as I can.’
Chapter 40
Seeing Drake and Sara walking into the sitting room of her home only exacerbated Liz Owen’s hysteria. Her eyes bulged, and she let out a morbid whimper.
Andy Owen turned to look at Drake. His voice croaked. ‘You’ve got to find them.’
‘Tell me exactly what happened. How do you know he’s missing?’
‘He’s not answering his mobile and he always answers it.’ Andy blinked away some tears. ‘Carwyn told one of his friends Maldwyn was in trouble.’
Liz sobbed again. Andy sat down by her side and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
‘Have you found Maldwyn?’ Andy’s voice broke.
Drake shook his head.
‘We’ll need to speak to Carwyn’s friends. Where can I contact them?’
‘Two doors down,’ Andy said. ‘Ask for Arwel.’
As Drake left he turned to Sara. ‘Get operational support to find a family liaison officer.’
Sara fumbled for her mobile. Both officers from the armed response vehicle straightened when Drake left the house but relaxed when he waved at them to stand easy.
Once Drake had persuaded an angry-looking man in his early forties that his son wasn’t implicated in any illegality he showed him into a sitting room similar to the one at the Owen family. Arwel lounged on a sofa, trying and failing to appear a nonchalant fourteen-year-old. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as Drake and Sara questioned him. ‘I didn’t see nobody.’
‘You’re not in any trouble, Arwel. I need you to tell me what you saw.’
‘I’m not going to grass on anybody.’
Drake wanted to shout. This was a youngster who watched far too much television.
‘For Christ’s sake grow up. Your mate Carwyn has disappeared. Tell me everything you know. Now.’
Arwel’s nostrils flared; he stared at Drake and then at Sara. ‘I was walking back with Carwyn. He got this text message. He said that Maldwyn was in trouble. Carwyn wanted to meet up with somebody who could help.’
‘Did he say where he was going?’
Arwel looked away.
‘Your friend’s life depends on this. Did he say who this other person was?’
Arwel shook his head.
‘Where the hell was he going?’
‘I can’t be certain.’ Arwel looked at his father who gave him a stern, reproachful glare. ‘Before he left he said something about Barracks Mon.’
Drake recalled the photographs of the two facing terraces of derelict properties on the mountainside above the village. In the nineteenth century, quarrymen from Ynys Mon, the Welsh name for the nearby island of Anglesey, used the houses as lodgings during the week.
Drake stood for a moment staring at this youngster. They had nothing else to go on.
If Talbot had taken Carwyn in order to entice Maldwyn to meet him, there was every possibility that both boys’ lives were at risk. Arwel’s father mentioned something about a footpath up to Barracks Mon.
‘Show me.’ Drake fumbled for his mobile; it took him seconds to find the map of the village.
The path zigzagged its way up the side of the mountain over the disused inclines that led down to the site of the slate museum. Barracks Mon were shown as two rows of tiny squares on the map open on his screen. He turned to Sara, and nodded for the door.
They reached the armed response vehicle and gave both officers a summary. The boot was flipped open. Warren found torches and then handed Drake and Sara heavy bulletproof vests. As Drake tightened the Velcro straps around his waist his stomach felt granite-hard.
Five minutes later they were double-parked at the bottom of the walled footpath that led up to Barracks Mon and the inclines that would have taken men up to the top of the quarries for their morning shift.
A milky moon cast occasional blankets of light.
Both armed officers checked in with Superintendent Price. Earpieces were clipped into place, microphones discreetly pinned to their jackets. Drake hoped that nobody would be killed. But he wasn’t ready to take any chances.
It had to be Glyn Talbot.
There might even be some historical link to Barracks Mon that fascinated this obsessed and sick individual. Something that would make him value being there when he killed Maldwyn Owen and his brother Carwyn. It would be the last link to an eyewitness to the death of Heulwen Beard. Without Maldwyn’s evidence Talbot probably thought he would be in the clear. Drake didn’t see Talbot happily confessing his guilt.
They started up the track, its surface covered with broken shards of slate of varying size. The sharp edges would ruin his shoes, but Drake decided to pay no attention to his petty worries. He led the way, Sara following behind him. By the time Drake, Sara and the two officers had reached the first 90-degree turn in the path Drake was breathing heavily; he could feel the sweat running down his neck. Sara stood for a moment gathering her breath, but she seemed unaffected, as did both officers.
‘Let’s get on, sir,’ Warren said. It wasn’t a criticism: simply a statement of fact.
Drake pressed on, the beam from the torch bouncing around the walls of the footpath that must have been four feet high, carefully constructed from slabs of slate. Thousands of men had tramped this route on their way to work every day blasting the slate, risking their lives to roof the world.
The path rose gently until it turned back on itself and the gradient increased. The width narrowed and Drake’s heart pounded, his feet fumbling on the uneven surface. He missed a footfall and fell heavily against the wall, breaking his fall with a hand. He winced in pain, wanting to cry out but he muffled any shout. The torch crashed to the floor and illuminated the side wall. Sara picked it up. ‘You all right, boss?’
‘Just a scratch.’
Drake shone the torch over his right hand. There was blood all over his fingers. He ignored the pain and discomfort. ‘Let’s carry on.’
After the path double backed again it was a short distance unt
il it began a severe ascent as a bridge crossed a section of the incline. For a moment Drake peered down and scanned the workings where large slabs of slate would have descended from the quarry. They pushed on upwards. The retaining walls of the pathway had now given way to a forest track.
After five minutes Drake noticed the faint outline of the chimney stacks of the Barracks Mon terraces. He slowed and raised a hand to his companions, signalling they had arrived. He listened, but all he could hear was the humming of the hydroelectric power station deep in the heart of the mountain. Something made a scratching noise off to his left, more scared of him than he was of it. He took a step nearer, still under the cover of trees, and he looked down the trackway that divided both terraces. Everything was quiet, no sound and no light. For a fraction of a second it struck him that he was too late: all he would find would be the bodies of two brothers and no evidence.
Warren and Pike silently scanned the derelict properties in front of them. A voice whispered in his earpiece. ‘We need him out in the open. In the middle of that space between the terraces,’ Warren said.
The night vision scopes they clipped onto the rifles made the task of shooting at night easier. Drake hoped it wouldn’t happen. Warren ran through his standard procedure with the strategic firearms commander back at headquarters.
‘I think we should find somewhere less conspicuous,’ Sara whispered.
Drake moved into the shadows with her. They waited. He glanced at his watch, exchanging a frustrated look with Sara. If nothing happened in the next ten minutes, Drake thought, we will call the whole thing off, return to Llanberis.
Ten minutes passed. Drake stayed put.
Another ten minutes elapsed. The damp of the mountain seeped into his bones. He shivered.
Suddenly he spotted movement at the far end of the terrace. A man darted into the first house. Drake couldn’t make out who it was or make out his age. He was agile though. Drake half got to his feet but Warren’s gentle voice in his ear spoke. ‘Be careful, Inspector.’
A Time to Kill Page 27