The Anglesey Murders Box Set

by Conrad Jones

  ‘That’s outrageous. I’m not tolerating that kind of scrutiny. We’re not criminals.’

  ‘We’re not scrutinising you, Mr Price. Not yet, anyway.’

  ‘And what does that mean?’

  ‘Most of the people we’ve spoken to have been very helpful but you’re not cooperating with us. In fact, you’re being aggressive and evasive. Why is that, Mr Price?’

  ‘I’m not being aggressive or evasive.’

  ‘You’re being both, Mr Price. You’re standing up pointing your finger at two detectives who are investigating the murder of a man you’ve worked with for twenty years.’ Simon paused and looked Mr Price in the eyes. ‘It’s the behaviour of someone who isn’t telling us the truth.’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this. I’m not saying anything else,’ Price said. His face was pale and drawn but there was anger in his eyes. ‘I don’t have to answer your questions. I want you to leave. If you want to speak to me again, contact my solicitor.’

  ‘Okay,’ Kerry said, standing up. ‘Who is your solicitor?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Who is your solicitor?’ she repeated. ‘We’ll be contacting them to arrange an interview at Caernarfon Police Station tomorrow morning. You can be as awkward as you like, Mr Price but we’re not going away. Who is your solicitor?’

  ‘I can’t speak to you tomorrow. I’m busy tomorrow.’

  ‘In which case. We’ll get a warrant for your arrest, your choice,’ Kerry said.

  ‘Arrest me for what?’

  ‘Wasting police time for a start. There’s a reason you’re being evasive and we’ll find out what that is whether you like it or not. I won’t ask again. Who is your solicitor?’

  ‘Tudor Owen, in St Asaph.’

  ‘Fine thank you, Mr Price,’ Simon said. His face like stone. ‘We’ll be in touch with him this morning and we’ll speak to you formally tomorrow at Caernarfon station.’

  ‘Caernarfon? Can’t we meet at St Asaph?’ Price looked close to tears. ‘It’s much closer for me.’

  ‘Mr Price, we can do it right here and right now without any dramas.’

  ‘I’m not saying any more today.’

  ‘Are you sure? Once we start the process, we can’t stop it.’

  ‘I don’t understand what you mean. What process?’

  ‘We’re chatting to you on an informal basis as a potential witness. If you refuse to answer some basic questions, we’ll no longer be looking at you as a potential witness, we’ll be looking at you as a potential suspect.’ Price stared at his hands. ‘Anything to say, Mr Price before we leave?’ He shook his head. ‘Fine. Good morning to you.’

  The detectives walked through the expansive hallway to the front door. Simon opened it and the cold air rushed in to greet them. They marched to their vehicle, both annoyed with Price’s obstinate manner. Simon opened the driver’s door and glanced at the house. Mrs Price was opening the curtains upstairs. Kerry followed his gaze. They climbed into the vehicle and closed the doors.

  ‘What is he playing at?’ Kerry asked. ‘Why tell us his wife was working?’

  ‘So, we don’t talk to her?’

  ‘That man is driving me round the bend. What do you think he’s hiding?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Simon said. ‘When we spoke to his boss, Barry Trent, he couldn’t get us out of there quick enough. He wasn’t evasive but he was hardly helpful, was he?’

  ‘Nope. I didn’t think much of it until we met Price. His workmates are behaving oddly. Why would that be?’

  ‘I haven’t got a clue but I’m convinced they know something we don’t. Shall we go back to Jaguar and ask them?’

  ‘Yes,’ Kerry said. ‘I’ll call ahead and ask to speak to everyone he worked with.’

  CHAPTER 25

  Lloyd Jones woke up stiff and bruised from his encounter with a Taser. He looked at the empty space next to him and touched the sheet. It was still warm. He could hear the toilet cistern running. The en suite door opened and Zak Edwards stepped out wearing his boxer shorts. Lloyd ran his eyes over him. He was petite and boyish looking for nineteen, almost feminine. His blond hair was bobbed and graduated. Zak was openly gay, which in a small town was very brave. He was a popular lad but there were still intolerant members of the community especially among the older generation. Zak kept himself to himself. He didn’t tout himself on social media—he loved Lloyd but Lloyd wouldn’t come out. They sneaked around when they could but Zak was tiring of the situation.

  He wanted more. He deserved more. It wasn’t like he didn’t get offers. He did. Some from the most unlikely sources but most of them just wanted sex. If casual sex was all he needed, he would be busy seven days a week, but it wasn’t. He had friends on social media who were in same-sex marriages. Some of them had adopted children. They lived normal lives, in love, surrounded by people who didn’t judge them. Tolerance wasn’t in abundance where he lived. He wanted to be in an ordinary relationship.

  That’s what he wanted but Lloyd wouldn’t so much as acknowledge him in public, especially in front of his friends. Zak often told him they weren’t his friends. They hung around with him for the drugs and the money and the kudos it gave them. He’d seen the way they looked at him. Some of them obviously suspected there was a relationship going on. They sneered behind Lloyd’s back and some of them teased Zak. They pinched his arse when he walked past and wolf whistled when he walked into the room. Lloyd ignored them as if it wasn’t happening. He even laughed at them sometimes. That hurt more than ignoring what was happening. Zak often wondered if Lloyd loved him at all. He thought the fact their relationship was clandestine excited Lloyd. Sneaking around was part of the buzz for him.

  ‘Are you coming back to bed?’ Lloyd asked. He pulled back the quilt.

  ‘No. I need to get to work.’

  ‘Oh, come on. I’ll be quick.’

  ‘You’re always quick,’ Zak said, smiling. ‘That’s why I come back.’

  ‘Take that back right now,’ Lloyd said.

  ‘Okay, I take it back but I’m not getting back into bed.’

  There was a noise from downstairs. They both looked at each other. The sound of footsteps on the stairs spurred them into action. Zak grabbed a denim shirt, feeling vulnerable in his underwear. Lloyd grabbed a machete from behind the bedside table and stood by the door. The footsteps stopped. Lloyd frowned and waited.

  ‘Lloyd,’ a voice said. ‘Are you in there?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, opening the door, stepping out, and then closing it behind him. ‘What are you doing here, Dad?’

  ‘They’ve taken your mum,’ he said, shaking. His breath was coming in short bursts. He was holding a bloody tissue to his nose.

  ‘Who’s taken Mum?’

  ‘I don’t know who they were.’

  ‘Tell me what happened.’

  ‘They broke in and dragged her out of bed, punched me unconscious, and took her. I think my nose is broken.’

  ‘We’ll get you sorted. Do you feel dizzy?’ Lloyd put his hand on his father’s shoulder. He shrugged it off and moved away.

  ‘No, I’m not dizzy. Worried sick is what I am. This is your fault.’

  ‘What?’ Lloyd asked, confused. ‘How can this be my fault?’

  ‘Because they said it’s your fault.’

  ‘What are you talking about? How can it be my fault?’

  ‘They said you’ve been phoning them and making threats. They said you owe them money.’

  ‘I don’t owe anyone money,’ Lloyd lied.

  ‘They said you threatened to shoot them. You left a message on their phone.’

  ‘Where were they from?’ Lloyd asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t get the chance to ask them.’

  ‘Were they locals or English?’

  ‘Neither. They were foreign. Your mum was screaming so they gagged her.’

  ‘Did they say where they were taking her?’

  ‘No. They said I was to come here and tell you what’s hap
pened and to wait for a phone call.’ He wiped a tear from his eye. ‘Have you threatened someone?’ his dad asked. ‘Is this your fault?’

  ‘Go home and wait for me there,’ Lloyd said. His dad shook his head. ‘Don’t argue with me. Go home and I’ll follow you there.’

  ‘But they…’

  ‘Go home!’ Lloyd shouted, losing his temper.

  ‘Your mum has got a bad heart, you know.’

  ‘I know. Go home.’

  ‘If they hurt her, I’ll never forgive you,’ his dad said, shaking his head. ‘I’ve kept my mouth shut far too long.’

  ‘Kept your mouth shut about what, exactly?’

  ‘We’re ashamed of you. We’re ashamed of what you’ve become, selling drugs to the kids in town. Your customers are our friends’ grandchildren. Don’t you think what you do has an effect on us? People won’t look us in the eyes anymore. You’re an embarrassment to your family.’

  ‘I don’t need this right now, dad,’ Lloyd said. ‘Save the lecture for when we get Mum back. I’ll sort this out.’

  ‘Who will sort it out?’ his dad snapped. ‘You and your boyfriend?’

  ‘Go home.’

  ‘Is he in there now?’

  ‘Don’t do this, please.’

  ‘Is that why you shut the door so quickly, in case I get a glimpse of him?’ he said. Lloyd was speechless for once. ‘Do you think we didn’t know? Your little boyfriend can’t keep his mouth shut. His sister was telling everyone in the Vaults how he wants to marry you and adopt children. Can you imagine how proud I was listening to that?’ he asked. ‘It made my little heart glow with pride. You make me sick.’

  The bedroom door opened and Zak pushed past Lloyd. He was fully dressed. Lloyd tried to stop him but he was adamant he was leaving. He stopped in front of Lloyd’s dad. They glared at each other, red-faced.

  ‘Excuse me, please,’ Zak said. ‘I need to get to work.’ Lloyd’s dad moved and let him pass. ‘Don’t bother texting me until you’ve got the backbone to admit I exist, Lloyd. I’ve had enough of being a dirty little secret.’

  The front door slammed.

  ‘Thanks for that, Dad,’ Lloyd said. ‘Go home. I’ll follow you when I’m dressed.’

  ‘Don’t bother.’ He turned and walked to the front door. ‘I’m going to the police. I should have gone there in the first place.’

  ‘Dad!’ Lloyd shouted. ‘Do not go to the police. If you want to see her again, leave it to me. I’ll sort it out when they ring me. You have to trust me on this.’ His father looked sad and confused. ‘These are very bad men, Dad. They’re dangerous. When they call me, I’ll sort it out with them. It’s a misunderstanding, nothing more.’

  ‘You’ve got two hours,’ his dad said. ‘If she’s not back by then, I’m going to call the police.’ He shut the door behind him, leaving Lloyd to contemplate the position. Zak was fuming and hurt. He was stubborn too. It would take some creeping to get him onside again. Coming out wasn’t an option. Not now, not ever. The idea of walking through the park holding hands with Zak, pushing a child on a swing didn’t rankle with him. He could do that but not here. His dad was a prime example of the antiquated values some clung to. Religion, colour, race, and sexuality were not up for debate with half of the family. The other half didn’t have the brains to care. Zak and him in a genuine relationship was a total nonstarter. Any respect he’d built up over the years, trying to get established would be lost in the first wave of gossip. He couldn’t think about it seriously. His phone beeped. It was a text message. He opened it and recognised the number. It was his supplier. The Albanians. He wished he hadn’t called them and left threatening messages. He opened the message and a video started to run automatically. His legs wobbled and a gasp came from his chest, turning into a whine. He watched tears run from her eyes. There was no sound from her. She was gagged. A man appeared on camera. He was one of the men he’d bought the cocaine from. His eyes were dark, madness in them.

  ‘You said you’re not going to pay us and you’re going to shoot me the next time you see me,’ he said. His voice was monotone, almost bored. ‘You’ll be sorry you said that.’ He turned and put the knife to his mother’s throat. Lloyd thought he was going to vomit. ‘You have twenty-four hours to pay us what you owe or your mother dies.’ The screen went dark, and the message ended with the sound of men laughing.

  CHAPTER 26

  Owen Collins opened the garage and switched on the lights, the radio, and the kettle. He was a creature of habit, liked a quiet life, and lived for his family. Today was the first day of a new era. An era without the crushing debts he’d accrued by struggling on alone. He hadn’t slept well the night before but he’d made up his mind. Taking Jamie’s offer was a no-brainer. He was a drowning man clutching a lifeline. If Jamie was true to his word, there were no downsides and he had no reason to believe he wasn’t being honest. He didn’t agree with what Jamie did for a living but who was he to judge? There was a massive market for cocaine. It was a fact. If Jamie Hollins didn’t sell it to them, someone else would. Despite his fearsome reputation, most people on the island respected Jamie. He was a straight-shooter, who had helped a lot of people. Not quite Robin Hood but a decent man with an unusual profession. Owen decided he would take one day at a time and see how the partnership progressed. Waking up knowing his bank account was in the black, had given him a different perspective on life. He felt excited and energised for the first time since his father was diagnosed. The thought of taking the moral high ground by transferring the money back, made him feel sick. His mind was made up.

  An hour later, Tony pulled up in a Golf GTI. It was less than twelve months old. Owen felt butterflies in his stomach. This was it. Crunch time. There would be no turning back if he took the deal. He took a deep breath and walked over to the vehicle. Tony climbed out of the driver’s door, wearing a Stone Island jacket.

  ‘All right, Owen,’ Tony said.

  ‘Tony,’ Owen said, shaking his hand. ‘Nice jacket.’

  ‘Thanks. Cost over a grand if you want one.’

  ‘I might treat myself to one next year. Too rich for me right now.’

  ‘Did you sleep on our proposal?’

  ‘I did. I’m going to take you up on the offer,’ Owen said.

  ‘Good man. You’ve made the right decision.’ Tony took out his mobile and sent a text message. He waited for the reply. His phone beeped. ‘Jamie is very happy. To start with, he wants this Golf serviced and the wheels changing.’

  ‘What’s wrong with the wheels?’ Owen said, walking around the vehicle. ‘They’re nice alloys. Are they scuffed somewhere?’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with them. He’s seen another set he likes better.’

  ‘No problem. Has he got a replacement set?’

  ‘Yes. They’ll be delivered by a courier this afternoon.’

  ‘Are they going to take the other set away?’

  ‘No. You can keep the set that’s on now. They’re nice alloys. Stick them on eBay or sell them to another customer, whatever you like.’

  ‘They’re worth a few quid, you know.’

  ‘He hasn’t got the time to mess about with a set of alloys. Keep them.’

  ‘Okay, thanks,’ Owen said. He had reservations rattling around in his head but this was too good to turn down. ‘When does he want it back?’

  ‘Teatime tomorrow, I’ll pick it up?’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘I’ll pay cash. How much will it be?’

  ‘A full service is two hundred and eighty. Call it three hundred in total, swapping the wheels over etcetera.’

  ‘Twenty quid for swapping a set of wheels?’ Tony said. ‘No wonder you’re struggling. Bill us five hundred.’

  ‘Five hundred?’

  ‘Are you here to make money or run a charity?’

  ‘Okay. Five hundred it is.’ Owen was shocked.

  ‘About the mechanic we promised you. Daisy will be here eight o’clock Monday morning.’

&n
bsp; ‘Brilliant. I’ve got a lot on next week; it’ll be just in time.’

  ‘Jamie has arranged for the first two vehicles to be dropped off on a transporter. They’ll be delivered before lunchtime on Tuesday and we’ll take it from there,’ Tony said.

  ‘What do you want doing to them?’

  ‘The same as the Golf. Full service and change the wheels. Daisy will know what to do.’ Owen nodded but his expression said he wasn’t comfortable. ‘Don’t look so worried. You’ve just changed your life.’

  ‘I’m not worried. That’s all fine with me.’

  A taxi pulled up outside and Tony waved to the driver.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Tony said, walking to the car. ‘Don’t stress. Enjoy the ride.’

  ‘I will,’ Owen said. He waited for the taxi to pull away before punching the air in joy. He thought about his dad looking down on him. ‘Today is going to be a good day.’ He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t worried about the deal but the knot in his guts told him otherwise.

  CHAPTER 27

  Alan waited for Pamela Stone to finish processing the room before stepping into the Caernarfon Castle, a derelict pub converted into a motel. It was positioned on a steep hill off the high street. The buildings around it were boarded up and in disrepair. Inside was unrecognisable to how he remembered it. There was nothing left of the original footprint. Plasterboard walls and lowered ceilings had transformed the building. A staircase ran up the centre of the building, leading to the first-floor rooms. Laminate flooring and downlighting gave it a fresh, modern feel. He was impressed with the conversion—it had the look of a Travel Lodge type motel. There were eight bedrooms, four on each floor. He walked around each one. They were identical.

  ‘It still smells of paint,’ Kim said from the doorway.

  ‘And sawdust,’ Alan said. ‘Do we know anything about who owns it yet?’