by Conrad Jones
‘Do you have any idea where they might be now?’
‘None at all,’ Lottie said. ‘I don’t track other operations because what we do is so different. Sorry.’
‘No problem. What was the family name?’ Anne asked.
‘Koresh was the family name. They were a big family,’ Lottie said. ‘The father was Tarek and his eldest son, Samiri. I can’t remember the other brothers. They were only teenagers at the time but they were trouble. I can look through my records tomorrow for all their names if you think it would help. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m tired and I want to go to sleep.’
‘That has been extremely helpful. Here’s my number. Please give me a call tomorrow, if you think of anything else. Thanks for seeing us,’ Anne said. ‘Amazing show by the way.’
Lottie opened the door and let the officers out. ‘Good night, detectives. Have a safe journey home.’
Anne and Gill walked in the direction of the beach. They had parked their car near the marina. She could see uniformed officers down near the water. Lots of them. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good. The fairground was still running but the crowds were thinning. It would have to be silent by eleven o’clock. She saw three people walking towards her trailer from the fairground. Alan and Kim were approaching the trailer from a different direction. He didn’t see Anne and Gill leaving. Lottie frowned as they neared. Liz was with them. She rolled her eyes skyward and swore beneath her breath.
‘For fuck’s sake, what now?’ Lottie murmured to herself. She smiled at the people approaching. ‘What is it now?’ Lottie asked. ‘There’s no peace for the wicked.’
‘I’m DI Alan Williams and this is DS Kim Davies.’
‘More detectives. Just what I was hoping for. Good evening,’ Lottie said. ‘How can I help?’
‘We’ve had a missing person report,’ Alan said. ‘A young woman has gone missing from the fairground. Her handbag and mobile phone were found in the toilets. We’ve been looking for a few hours and made an initial search of the surrounding area and the lifeboat is searching the marina.’
‘Oh dear,’ Lottie said, frowning. ‘How awful. What can I do to help?’
‘Her sister has told us she was spiked earlier today by three men she believes work here,’ Alan said. ‘We need to speak to them.’
‘Does she know who they are?’ Lottie asked, frowning.
‘She thinks she might be able to recognise them but in the meantime her sister is still missing and we need to locate her. The drugging incident may be connected to her sister’s disappearance,’ Alan explained.
‘Okay. What do you need from me?’ Lottie asked.
‘I’d like to be able to check every caravan and trailer without applying for a warrant. We could do with your help to gain access if you don’t mind.’
‘No one will have a problem with helping you find her. Liz will take you wherever you need to look,’ Lottie said. ‘I’ll get changed and catch up with you. If any of my employees have spiked anyone, they’ll wish they hadn’t.’ Lottie sighed, tired and frustrated. ‘I’ll be with you in five minutes.’
‘Thanks for your help,’ Alan said, ‘It’s much appreciated.’
‘No problem.’ She closed the door and locked it. A figure watched from beneath the tailer. It was cold now and he shivered. His sickness made him susceptible to the cold. His bones ached when it was damp. The Matrix detectives had traced Leo’s disappearance to the circus where he was last seen. That wasn’t beyond comprehension. He had listened to the conversation through an open window. The name Koresh had rung bells in his memory. It belonged to an Albanian outfit from the Green Lane area of London. They took over most of the capitol at one point in the nineties by being the most brutal gangsters the city had seen. They made the Krays look like Laurel and Hardy. He remembered them well and they had reason to remember the Quinn family. Ten years ago, Andi Koresh was sent north to establish a foothold in Liverpool and Manchester. He was a violent psychopath, unstable and unreasonable. His arrival was met with the vitriolic response it required. Things didn’t go well for Andi and his crew. Len mulled over the memories. Could the Koresh family who ran a fairground business be connected to the criminals in London? A travelling fair would be a decent vehicle for transporting people and products from one place to another. He knew several men who had spent time travelling when they were on the run from the law and rivals. It was an ideal way to become invisible. Had his son Leo inadvertently walked into the wrong place and been recognised by a member of the Koresh family or had Katrin fallen fowl of a sexual predator and his son had become collateral damage? There was only one way to establish the truth.
Chapter 17
The lights went out and Kelly stood still, blinded by the sudden darkness. It took long seconds for her eyes to adjust. As her vision cleared, she could see the streetlights through the bedroom window. It wasn’t a power cut. She was in credit with her electric provider so she hadn’t been cut off. A fuse could have blown. Maybe. Or maybe someone turned it off. A million evil images flashed through her mind. Kelly tightened the towel around her and padded into the bedroom. She slid her feet into her slippers. Her dressing gown was hanging on the back of the door. She took it down and pulled it on. It was soft and warm on her skin but it didn’t stop her from shivering. Her senses were on red alert, listening to every creak and sound from outside. She felt frightened, standing in the dark alone. She jumped when her phone vibrated and the screen lit up. She picked it up from the dressing table. It was a message on Facebook. She went into messenger and opened the unread message. There was no profile picture of the sender. It was a fake profile, probably from a pervert who hid behind his anonymity. Social media was crawling with pervs lately. She had to block or delete several profiles on a daily basis. It was becoming a joke. The last thing she needed right now was a pervert fishing for a sex chat. The muscles in her stomach were clenched in nervous anticipation of something bad about to happen. She opened the message.
Did you enjoy your bath? You have a nice house. Bet it’s dark in there with no electricity?
Kelly shuddered as an image of her house appeared. In the picture, all the lights were out. Another image appeared, taken earlier. The bathroom, living room and dining room lights were on. Whoever took the photographs was outside right now. She ran to the curtains and peered through them. The alleyway across the road was shrouded in darkness. She imagined a hooded figure standing beyond the shadows watching her. A car drove down the street, taxi stickers on the doors. It didn’t stop. She felt cold and vulnerable and ran to the underwear drawer. It took her less than a minute to put on knickers, a bra and pyjamas. She pulled her dressing gown over the top and fastened it tight. The clothing made her feel more secure. She thought about phoning the police but she had already lied to them once today. Her phone vibrated again. She thought about it. Don’t open it. Not opening it didn’t mean it hadn’t been sent. They were sending her a message, whoever they were. She opened the message.
You have a nice daughter. Pretty little Elle. She looks like you. They are so vulnerable at that age, don’t you think?
Another image appeared. It was Elle standing in the doorway of her nan’s house. She was wearing her pyjamas. The set Kelly had sent her with earlier. Elle looked confused as if she was looking for something. Kelly ran downstairs into the kitchen her breath tight in her chest. She took the biggest knife from the block and ran back upstairs, looking through every window on the way. The streets and lanes around her house were empty but beyond the yellow glow of the streetlights was nothing but inky blackness. She imagined devils and serial killers lurking there, waiting and watching. All the crime thrillers and horror films she had ever seen flashed through her mind as her imagination ran riot. Another message arrived.
You are probably wondering what she is doing. She was looking to see who knocked on the door. Can’t be too careful nowadays. Kids get snatched from the street all the time. She shouldn’t be out there on her own.
Kell
y wanted to puke. She knew who was sending the messages without asking. They must have followed them from Rhosneiger. Jack had his name and mobile number on his stupid van and he constantly posted pictures of them as a couple, despite her reluctance. She had told him not to tag her in them a million times but it was a possession thing with Jack. He had to make sure everyone knew they were together. Putting images of them together and tagging her in every post he made was like tethering her to him, branding her as his bitch for the other men in town to see. She’s mine. Back off boys. He was such a dick sometimes. Every post left a route map for someone to follow to her profile. It took just seconds to follow the links. They knew her name and they had her number. She didn’t know how they got her number but it wouldn’t be hard. Now they knew where she lived. It was obvious, they had followed her home. It didn’t take a detective to find where her mother lived and take a picture of her Elle outside the door.
They were clearly criminals with intelligence. She had witnessed their handywork and didn’t want any part of it. The man had seen her and she had seen him. She’d lied to the police to avoid being dragged to court as a witness. She had been there before and it had dire consequences. A young local man had gone missing from his home. The police appealed for witnesses and Kelly made a statement that she had seen a car being driven by a man she knew and her evidence placed him at the scene of the abduction. He was convicted of conspiracy to murder and jailed for fifteen years. Kelly thought that would be the end of it but it was far from over. His associates and family persecuted her for years. It had caused trouble for her and her family. Her dad was punched in a pub in town and six months later he was jumped on the way home from a darts match. Darts was his social life but he never went again. He no longer went for a pint at all. It had traumatised him. Her mum was spat at in the hairdressers, Morrison’s and the bingo. Anglesey was a small island and avoiding people was not an easy thing to do. Elle had to go to school and they were in short supply. She didn’t want to live her life looking over her shoulder, worrying about Elle and if she was safe. She needed these people off her back. She messaged back.
I haven’t said anything to the police and I won’t say anything.
She waited, holding the knife so tightly her knuckles were white. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She could feel the pulse in her forehead and the clock on the wall ticking. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
The lights came back on and the profile vanished.
Chapter 18
Detective Sergeant Richard Lewis walked into the Albert Vaults. It was a small pub, longer than it was wide with the bar on the right-hand wall. A pool table filled the back room with the toilets beyond. Most of the tables were full of drinkers. It was the first pub on the way back into town from the Newry Beach. People were finishing off the night with a few drinks and maybe a kebab from Williams Street on the way home. There would be a rush at last orders. The taxi rank was just down the street and they would be busy with the circus in town. Taxis would be sparse.
Richard approached the landlord and spoke to him as a friend would. It was a decent pub, run well with decent staff and decent customers. It had to be as the police station was literally across the road. The landlord poured half a Directors and placed it on the bar. The dark ale settled, not quite as dark as Guinness but not far off. The froth was white. Richard sipped it and the froth stuck to his moustache. He licked his lips and smiled.
‘It’s a new barrel. What do you think?’
‘Lovely drop of beer,’ Richard said. He showed the landlord a picture of Michelle Branning. The landlord knew her and Tiffany. ‘Chelle is missing,’ Richard explained. ‘She’s been missing since half-past-four this afternoon. Obviously, we’re retracing her steps.’
‘I’ve seen the patrol cars coming and going. I wondered what all the fuss was about,’ the landlord said. ‘They were in here earlier on this afternoon. It’s Tiff’s birthday. They were in good spirits.’
‘She had a few shots,’ Richard said.
‘It’s her birthday. I think a few people bought them drinks. They’re popular girls,’ the landlord said.
‘Tiffany thinks her drinks were spiked while they were here.’
‘What, in here?’ the landlord asked, offended.
‘Possibly,’ Richard said. ‘I know you run a good pub and the locals wouldn’t do such a thing but the possible suspects are from out of town. She thinks it was three men who might work on the fairground.’
‘I know who you mean,’ the landlord said. ‘I knew they were from away. I had my eye on them. Let me check the CCTV. It’s not the best system but you can see people’s faces. They were here about an hour at least,’ he said, flicking through the images. ‘Here are Chelle and Tiff walking into the pub.’ He scrolled on. ‘Here. These are the men. They were playing pool until the girls walked in, then they moved to be near the girls. They sat nearby. You can see Tiff talking to them there, Chelle doesn’t have anything to do with them. Here is a good shot of the men. I can take that as a single image. Do you want me to send all the footage from today to you?’
‘Yes please. Send it to my phone,’ Richard said. He downed his Directors and patted the landlord on the back. The image appeared on his phone. ‘This is going to save us a lot of man hours and headaches. I owe you one.’
‘I hope you find Chelle.’
‘Cheers,’ Richard said. He found Alan’s number. It rang for a second or two.
‘Hello Richard,’ Alan said, sounding stressed. ‘What have you got?’
‘I’ve got images of the three men who were sitting next to Tiffany Branning in the Albert. The landlord pulled them from his CCTV. I’ll send it over to you now.’
‘Good man,’ Alan said.
‘Any joy finding her yet?’
‘Nope. Not a sign of her.’
‘Is the lifeboat still out in the marina?’
‘Yes. No news is good news as far as they’re concerned.’ Alan went quiet for a second. ‘I’ve got the image. Well done Richard. Check the other pubs in town just in case she’s so drunk she doesn’t know she’s missing and I’ll see you later.’
‘Let’s hope so. See you later.’
**************************************************
Lottie and Kim were looking at the CCTV footage from the circus cameras. They were drinking coffee with oat milk in an attempt to fight tiredness. The cameras covered most of the fairground but not the toilet blocks. It was deemed to be against the individual’s right to privacy to be filmed going to the loo. The coverage was adequate to maintain a record of ninety percent of the fairground.
‘We can’t have a camera targeting the toilets. It’s a crazy directive from Brussels,’ Lottie said. ‘Despite them being the place where all the shenanigans, goes on. Apparently, we can be fined for it anywhere in Europe, so we don’t do it.’
‘Does anyone check?’ Kim asked.
‘You would be amazed how often we’re asked for the CCTV footage,’ Lottie said. ‘It’s pretty much once per site, sometimes daily. I’ve set it up so I can capture a time slot and email it, otherwise I would be sat here for hours.’
One camera captured part of the area outside the ladies’ toilet block but not the entrance or the approach. Another camera picked up the other side but there was a blind spot between them.
‘We know Michelle left the beer tent at four-thirty and that her handbag and phone were found sometime before five,’ Kim said.
‘So, we have a nice tight window of time to search.’ Lottie switched the camera feed to different angles, trying to find an image of Chelle near the toilet block but they had hit a blank.
‘Wait. Look at that,’ Kim said, pointing to the edge of the screen. ‘Go back a few seconds there.’ Lottie rewound the images. ‘Look there. That’s a pair of beige UGG boots and faded jeans. Michelle was wearing jeans and similar boots.’ The image was of a female from the knee down.
‘Her and a dozen others,’ Lottie said. ‘They’re extremely
popular boots in the winter. We can’t say it’s her for sure.’
‘This isn’t good. I can’t track a woman when I can only see her feet.’ Kim was getting frustrated. ‘Let it run and see if she comes back this way towards the beer tent,’ Kim said. Lottie turned it back on at fast forward. People whizzed across the screen. There was no sign of the UGG boots for a few minutes. Then Kim spotted a young woman wearing a pair similar. ‘There. Can you zoom in on her?’
‘I’ll try,’ Lottie said. She increased the image.
‘The boots are the right colour but the jeans are wrong. That’s not our girl,’ Kim said, sighing. It had been a long day and she was weary. ‘Which way would she go to get to the nearest burger van?’
‘This way towards the beer tent,’ Lottie said.
‘Would she be able to see it from the entrance to the toilets?’
‘Yes. It’s a big trailer. She couldn’t miss it.’
‘So, she didn’t go back towards the beer tent,’ Kim said. ‘What about the cameras on the exits?’
‘The official fairground exits?’ Lottie asked.
‘Yes. There’s only one, isn’t there?’ Kim asked.
‘Technically, yes,’ Lottie said. ‘But if people want to get out, there are gaps between the caravans and motorhomes. There are dogs tied up as a deterrent but people still come and go as they please. We can’t seal the area with fences for fire reasons.’ She pulled up the camera footage for the exit at four-thirty and then let it run on fast forward, stopping when a female of a similar appearance appeared. When the tape reached five fifteen, she stopped it. ‘That is quarter-past-five and Michelle hasn’t left the fairground through that exit. Do you want me to go further?’