The Anglesey Murders Box Set

by Conrad Jones

  There was no sound from below. The plaster boarding and insulation nullified everything. She was blind to whatever they were doing downstairs. They may have gone already. If they had any sense, they would be well on their way by now. It would be obvious that they could not reach her in the attic. They would realise that and leave.

  Rachel went over to the desk, opened the top drawer and looked inside. A packet of menthol cigarettes and a zippo lighter told her what she already knew. He hadn’t stopped smoking. She fumbled through a stack of papers, pens and spare cables. A packet of triple-A batteries had split and they rolled around the drawer as she searched for something useful. She closed the drawer and got the whiff of petrol. Was it from the zippo? She opened the drawer again and flicked the lid on the lighter. Thumbing the wheel three times, she knew it was dry. There was no fuel in it. The smell had become stronger. Her heart began to beat faster as she approached the hatch. Tendrils of smoke, tinged grey blue, were climbing between the hinges and the laminate floor. She didn’t need to open the hatch to know that they had set fire to their home.

  chapter 11

  Alan watched as bleary-eyed detectives gathered in the MIT office. There wasn’t time to summon a full briefing. This was an emergency gathering of the nightshift. The discovery that the dead body in the woods was Matrix criminal informer, Stuart Radcliffe, had sent shockwaves through the building. Images of the crime scene flickered on the screens behind Alan.

  ‘This is Stuart Radcliffe. He was a CI for Matrix and he was found dead a few hours ago. This man, Brian Selby, was arrested near the scene and he has positively identified Radcliffe as the victim. Radcliffe and another man, Christopher Cornell, were members of an outfit from Holyhead headed up by Lloyd Jones.’ He paused as murmurs passed through the gathering of detectives. ‘Although only a mid-level target, I can see some of you know the name. He was on the up and heading for the big league. Radcliffe and Cornell were working surveillance for Matrix after being busted in a drug deal last year when Jamie Hollins was sent down. They were arrested with a kilo of cocaine and a firearm and Matrix turned them. We think Lloyd Jones found out that he had a leak and has bubbled them. Brian Selby claims that he witnessed Jones shooting Radcliffe. He said that Lloyd Jones told him after the shooting that he had killed him because Radcliffe was a grass. We need to find Lloyd Jones and we need to find the remaining informant, Christopher Cornell.’ DI Kim Davies entered the room. She nodded to him. ‘Good timing,’ Alan said. ‘Finding Chris Cornell is the priority. He may still be alive.’

  ‘The ACC gave the green light. I’ve already sent a team to his home to bring him in,’ Kim said.

  ‘Excellent. I think we should pick up everyone involved in the Matrix sting. If we leave any of Jones’s men out there, we risk the chance of them running around making our witnesses disappear.’ He looked at Kim. Matrix operations were her call. ‘Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ she said. ‘We’ll need uniform and armed response to back us up.’

  ‘How many do you think you’ll need?’ Alan asked.

  ‘All of them,’ Kim answered, sarcastically. ‘None of this bunch are going to come in quietly. We’ll need everything we’ve got.’

  ‘Sorry to interrupt, inspector,’ a uniformed officer said, poking his head around the door. ‘We’ve just had a report of a shooting outside of Paradise nightclub in Bangor.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘The victim is Lloyd Jones.’

  chapter 12

  Rachel froze to the spot as she tried not to lose it in front of her daughter. Claire held her hand and clung to Bear, strangely calm as she watched the smoke creeping through the edges of the hatch. The attic would become their tomb if she didn’t move quickly. She had no choice but to go down into the house or choke to death and burn.

  ‘We have to go back downstairs.’

  ‘Okay, Mummy.’

  ‘You stay close to me and don’t let go of my hand, no matter what, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Mummy,’ Claire mumbled. She squeezed Bear harder, as if to pass the message on to him.

  Rachel undid the bolt and pressed the release button. The hatch clicked open and the ladders began to extend. A thick cloud of choking smoke billowed through the gap, stinging her eyes and making them water. Her vision was blurred as she walked around the hatch and checked the landing. There was no sign of any intruders there. The orange glow of flames flickered on the far wall, coming from the downstairs.

  ‘Let’s go, careful on the steps now,’ Rachel said, leading the way. She paused halfway, scanning the bedroom doorways for danger. She could hear the flames crackling and the air was becoming hot. Breathing was becoming more difficult. When Claire reached the bottom step, Rachel picked her up and ran towards the staircase. Her makeshift barricade was still in place but now it was ablaze. The entire hallway was an inferno, the flames creeping quickly up the banister and stair carpet. There was no way down from there. She pushed Claire’s head into her shoulder and ran for the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Claire started to cry. She had tried hard not to but the time for being brave had passed. Once the first sob had broken, it was followed by an uncontrollable flow of tears. She felt scared and tired and just wanted to lie down and sleep; she could not comprehend what was going on around her. Rachel grabbed a bath towel and turned on the tap. She soaked it in cold water and then put it over her head, covering Claire.

  ‘Mummy, I don’t like it!’

  ‘It will stop the smoke going in your eyes,’ Rachel said, opening the door. ‘We won’t be able to breath otherwise.’ The flames were near the top of the stairs, the heat was blistering the paint on the walls. It felt like stepping into an oven. She ducked beneath the smoke and ran across the landing to the spare bedroom. Something exploded downstairs. The house trembled for a few seconds. Rachel put her back to the wall and waited for the vibration to subside. The sound of the downstairs windows shattering spurred her on. She ran to the window and pulled at the handle.

  ‘No, no, no!’ she moaned. It wouldn’t budge. The window led onto their garage roof. Chris said it was a weak point where burglars would break in. ‘Keep it locked and don’t leave the key in the lock otherwise you might as well leave the thing open.’ She looked around the room. The bedside table caught her eye. It was small but made from solid wood. She put Claire down and picked it up. ‘Stand over there!’ Claire stood in the corner. ‘Face the wall for a minute!’

  ‘I don’t want to!’ Claire shouted.

  ‘We don’t have time for this, Claire!’ Rachel snapped. ‘Do it now!’ Claire relented and turned away. She hugged Bear tightly to her chest. Rachel thrust the table at the glass as hard as she could. It bounced off and clattered onto the floor. ‘No, no, for fuck’s sake!’

  She picked it up and held it by two legs, one in each hand. Stepping back, she swung it like a baseball bat, keeping hold of it on impact. The glass shattered. She swung it three times to clear the shards and then flattened the edges by stabbing at them with the table-top.

  ‘Come on, sweetheart!’ she said, reaching for Claire. She lifted her through the glass and lowered her onto the flat roof. ‘Wait there,’ she said, coughing and spluttering as she cocked her leg through the window and climbed out. A jagged piece of glass slashed her inner thigh. She gritted her teeth and dropped down next to her daughter, feeling blood running down her thigh. They both sucked in deep gasps of the cold night air. Rachel looked to the road and saw blue flashing lights in the far distance and she wondered how they had known about the fire so quickly.

  ‘Is that the fire engine, Mummy?’

  ‘I think so, darling.’ Rachel hoped it was coming their way.

  ‘I knew you would come out this way, Rachel,’ a gruff voice said from behind her.

  She heard Claire screaming for a second before a crushing blow to the back of her skull switched her lights out.

  chapter 13

  Kim and Alan arrived at the scene of the shooting and he slowed his vehicle at the
police cordon, showing his ID to the uniformed officer who was standing on watch at the crime scene tape. He drove through a gap between two ambulances and navigated his way further up the street. Another marked police car arrived and four officers deployed. Alan parked the Shogun on the pavement behind them and turned the engine off. The street was bathed in flashing blue lights.

  ‘How many ambulances do you need for a shooting?’ Kim said, shocked. ‘There are way too many for just one incident.’

  ‘There’s something else going on here,’ Alan agreed.

  The first detective on the scene spotted them and headed over. He was accompanied by a uniformed sergeant who looked like he was not far from retirement. The rain had stopped but the cobbles were still wet and the neon signs reflected from them. Kim counted six ambulances and a seventh was just arriving.

  ‘DI Alan Williams?’ Alan nodded a silent hello while he assessed the scene. It was chaos. ‘DS Sampson from Bangor station. This is Sergeant Evans. We’ve got a right mess here. This is one for telling the grandkids, I can tell you.’

  ‘I can see there’s a lot going on. What have you got for me so far?’ Alan asked. He was trying to pinpoint where the shooting had happened.

  ‘We got a call from a cabbie around three-thirty, who says that he witnessed a man being shot as he tried to get into his car,’ Sampson explained. Alan noticed that he was wearing a dark fur lined parka and trainers. The new breed of detective. ‘The shooter used a sawn-off shotgun. We’ve got a decent description of him and I’ve circulated it.’

  ‘And the victim?’ Kim asked, looking around.

  ‘A local man from your neck of the woods named, Lloyd Jones, guv,’ Sampson said, not realising that they knew his identity already.

  ‘Where is he?’

  ‘He’s on his way to Ysbyty Gwynedd,’ the uniformed sergeant answered. ‘The paramedics treated him here, stopped the bleeding and then took him away. They left about ten minutes ago.’

  ‘He’s alive?’ Kim asked, surprised.

  ‘He was wearing a vest,’ Sampson said with a shrug. ‘He’s got pellets in both his upper arms, his neck and a couple in his face but he’ll live. The vest took the brunt of it.’

  ‘Has he got an armed escort?’ Kim asked, concerned.

  ‘Yes,’ the sergeant answered. ‘When I got here, I patted him down for ID. He was out of it. I found a Smith and Wesson revolver in his sock and a large amount of cash. Forensics are bagging everything now,’ He said pointing to a CSI unit, who were parked a way down the street. ‘I called in an ARU to escort the ambulance. It was a madhouse here. Apparently, it had kicked off in the nightclub about the same time as Jones was shot and the doormen lost control of the situation. It spilled out onto the street there and all hell broke loose.’

  ‘That’s why all the ambulances are here?’ Alan said.

  ‘That and the second victim, guv,’ Sampson said, pointing to Paradise. Alan and Kim looked at each other.

  ‘Nobody mentioned a second victim,’ Alan said.

  ‘We’ve only just found him, guv. When the nightclub situation had calmed down, one of uniform went looking for the manager. They found a body in the office. Walter Ricks, goes by the name of Jaz. He found him shot dead in his office with three bullets in his chest and the safe empty. I was waiting for you to arrive before going up there myself.’

  ‘Okay, good,’ Alan said, walking towards the nightclub. ‘Let’s go and have a look before forensics get in there.’

  The three detectives weaved through the emergency vehicles and entered the club. The foyer looked like a tornado had twisted its way through, broken glasses, bottles, and bar stools were scattered everywhere.

  ‘The cleaners are in for a shock,’ Kim said, looking around. She pointed to the ceiling. ‘I wonder if those cameras are recording.’

  ‘Surely, they will be,’ Sampson said.

  ‘During operating hours, I doubt it very much,’ Kim replied. She picked her way through the debris to the double doors and pushed them open using her elbows. ‘Jaz and his goons turn a lot of blind eyes in this dump. They’ll be on when the place is shut but not while the dealers are trading.’

  They walked up the stairs to the office in silence, each one scanning the area for something out of the ordinary. When they reached the office, Sampson passed them some gloves and they put them on before entering the room. The smell of blood and excrement drifted to them.

  ‘That is Jaz,’ Kim said. ‘No doubt about that.’

  ‘Yes, that’s him,’ Alan agreed. ‘It looks like karma came in here and bit him on the arse.’

  ‘Three to the chest from close range and an empty safe.’

  ‘Jones comes up here, makes him open the safe and then shoots him?’ Alan said, with a frown.

  ‘Bit too much of a coincidence to think anyone else did it, isn’t it?’ Sampson mused. Alan knew why he hadn’t been made an MIT detective yet.

  ‘So, Jones shoots Jaz, robs him and then gets shot on the way to his car. His pockets were full of money so whoever shot him wasn’t robbing him,’ Kim said, shaking her head. ‘They just wanted him dead.’

  ‘Must have been personal,’ Sampson said, raising his index finger. ‘Somebody had it in for him.’

  ‘No shit, Sherlock,’ Kim muttered under her breath. Alan raised an eyebrow and grinned. ‘Couldn’t have happened to a nicer man.’

  ‘How many men are on him at the hospital?’ Alan asked.

  ‘Two-armed response and two uniforms,’ Sampson answered.

  ‘Good, double it,’ Alan ordered. ‘As soon as the doctors are sure he’s not in danger, I want him out of that hospital and in a cell.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Sampson said, reaching for his radio. He turned to walk away.

  ‘It’s time to round them all up, Kim,’ Alan said, turning to her. ‘Before they kill each other – and our witnesses.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that be a crying shame if they killed each other,’ Kim muttered as she walked back towards the stairs. The urge to get out of the nightclub and have a long hot bath was overwhelming.

  chapter 14

  Rachel woke up with a sickening headache and a sore throat. She felt like she had swallowed powdered glass. Her eyes flickered open and they felt red, raw, and gritty. She could only see blurred outlines. Sounds drifted to her. The sounds of animals in distress. Not random animals – pigs. She could hear them squealing. The cloying odour of animal waste floated on the air, so thick that she could almost taste it. She could sense death all around her. It filled her senses. The memories of the night before drifted back slowly in pieces and she panicked.

  ‘Claire!’ she gasped; her voice was hoarse. ‘Claire!’

  ‘Mummy!’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Over here, Mummy!’

  Rachel tried to rub her eyes but her wrists were tied together. Her vision wouldn’t clear. She leant forward and wiped them on her knees. It wasn’t perfect but it was better. She turned towards Claire and saw her sitting on the floor nearby, her hands tied behind her back. Black smudges spread beneath her eyes and around her mouth. Next to her was her husband, Chris. His face was swollen and bruised, his lips split and scabbed. Congealed blood clung to his nostrils and top lip. He was gagged but his eyes were open. Tears streaked his face. He was sobbing uncontrollably and he was trying to communicate but she couldn’t understand his muffled message. There was something different about his eyes. They looked desperately sad. She thought that he was trying to say sorry but she didn’t know why. Nothing that she had experienced that night made sense. The break in was bad enough, the fire worse but this place was the stuff of nightmares.

  ‘Mummy!’ Claire called out again. ‘I want to go home, Mummy.’

  ‘I know you do, darling. Don’t cry. I’ll get us out of here and we’ll go home soon.’

  ‘Hurry up, Mummy!’

  ‘What the fuck have you done, Chris?’ she whispered. Chris read her lips and shook his head and closed his eyes tigh
tly, his body shaking. ‘What have you done, you idiot?’ she shouted, losing her temper. ‘Why is our daughter tied up?’ Chris kept his eyes closed but the tears continued to roll from the corners. ‘What did you do to them? They burned our house down!’ she screamed.

  She heard a motor kick into life and the clank of metal on metal. Hooks automatically attached to a large hopper and tilted it towards a huge funnel. It took her seconds to recognise that the hopper was full of pigs, their heads, legs and feet. Claire covered her eyes and began to scream as the hopper was tipped and the stinking contents slopped into the grinder. In her brain, she was asking why anyone would bring them to a place like this and the answer was unthinkable. The sound of the cogs whirring and bone splintering filled the air. A stream of pale pink mince began to fill a hopper below the machine. There was only one reason that they would subject them to seeing this. She knew what they were planning to do. She looked at Chris and shook her head.

  ‘Oh my god, what did you do to them?’ she shouted.

  ‘Mummy, stop shouting!’ Claire began to sob again.

  ‘What did you do for us to deserve being treated like this?’

  ‘Mummy!’ Claire wept. ‘Stop it!’

  ‘Shut up a minute, Claire!’ Rachel snapped. ‘Why are we here, Chris?’

  ‘I can answer that question for you,’ Justin approached from behind them. Two men shadowed him. They were big men, their eyes dead like a shark’s. There was no empathy in them. Rachel could feel their eyes on her body and they leered at one another. The captives fell silent as they stepped in front of them. Justin had removed his balaclava but still had a black jumpsuit on. Rachel didn’t think that the fact that he was showing his face was a good sign. He was no longer hiding his identity. That made her shiver. ‘Your husband is a grass, Rachel. Simple.’