The Anglesey Murders Box Set

by Conrad Jones

  ‘Good afternoon, detectives,’ Jacob Graff said, standing up to greet them. His dark, silk suit was tailored perfectly and his silver hair was gelled back from his forehead. Highly polished brogues reflected the surroundings on the toe. His face looked younger than his sixty-five years but the liver spots on his hands and his turkey neck gave the game away. ‘I trust Anglesey’s finest are in good fettle.’

  ‘I see you’re still defending the island’s lowlife,’ Alan countered. He undid the button on his dark blue suit jacket.

  ‘Shall we dispense with the horseshit and get on with it?’ Kim said, a sarcastic grin on her face.

  ‘She’s a feisty one, this one,’ Jacob said, winking at Lloyd. Lloyd didn’t look impressed. ‘We’ll have to be on our best game with her around.’ Lloyd shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He was propped up with pillows behind him. His right hand was heavily bandaged and there were a dozen dark purple entry holes on his neck and lower face. Some of the larger holes had been stitched. He eyed the detectives with suspicion but there was also a glint in his eyes as if he was excited.

  ‘We’ve come to speak to you about a few matters, so I need to remind you that you’re under caution,’ Alan began. ‘Let’s start with how you ended up here.’

  Lloyd looked at Jacob and Jacob nodded that it was okay to answer the question.

  ‘I was shot by Del Makin,’ Lloyd said, sitting up further. ‘Sorry, Derrick Makin. He lives in Rhoscolyn Village.’

  ‘Do you have an address?’ Kim asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to give them a name.

  ‘Refail Farm somewhere. I can’t remember the number but you’re the detectives. I’m sure it won’t take you long to find him.’

  ‘You’re sure it was him?’ Alan asked.

  ‘Oh, yes, one hundred percent. He stood in front of me as clear as you are now, no mask, no balaclava, nothing,’ Lloyd said, smiling. ‘He probably didn’t expect me to survive to identify him, still, you have to admire his balls, don’t you?’ he looked at Kim. ‘Excuse the language.’

  ‘I’ve heard much worse,’ she replied, curtly. ‘Do you know why he shot you?’

  Jacob nodded again.

  ‘Because I’m an eyewitness.’

  ‘To what?’ Alan asked, frowning.

  ‘The murder of Jaz.’

  ‘Makin shot Jaz?’ Alan asked, shocked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You saw him shoot Jaz?’ Kim asked, shaking her head.

  ‘Not exactly.’ Lloyd shrugged. ‘I heard him shoot Jaz. Then I saw him leaving his office.’

  ‘Tell us what happened, exactly,’ Alan asked, sitting back.

  ‘I was there on business,’ Lloyd said, cheerily. ‘I parked up the motor, walked into the club, said hello to the bouncers and the miserable bitch on the till and then I looked into the club to see if he was at the bar,’ he paused. ‘He wasn’t there so I figured that he would probably be in his office. As I got to the first-floor landing, I thought that I heard something. Three times. Like a spitting noise.’ He looked from one to the other to see if they were following him. The detectives looked taken aback. ‘The next thing I know, Del Makin was coming down the stairs, white as a sheet, he was. I said hello and shook his hand but he made some excuse for being in a hurry and legged it down the stairs. Of course, when I got to the office, Jaz was as dead as a dodo. Makin must have shot him just minutes before I arrived.’ He could see the doubt on their faces. ‘Ask the bouncers, they will verify that he arrived before me and left in a hurry, I’m sure.’ He paused and feigned sorrow. ‘I always liked Jaz. He was old school. Don’t get me wrong, he was no angel but we got on, you know?’

  ‘Your pockets were stuffed full of cash and the safe was empty,’ Kim said, rolling her eyes. ‘You liked him enough to steal his money while he was still warm?’

  ‘What can I say,’ Lloyd sighed. ‘It was a moment of weakness. There was my old friend Jaz, shot to death and all that cash was lying around. It was an opportunist crime but a crime, nonetheless. I hold my hands up. I took the money.’

  ‘Very gallant of you,’ Kim said, sarcastically. ‘So, you took the money and then what?’

  ‘I went back to the car. As I approached it, Makin shot me with both barrels.’

  ‘You had a gun in your sock and a vest on,’ Kim pushed. She raised her eyebrows.

  ‘I always carry that thirty-eight. You have been spying on me for fourteen months, Inspector, you know what kind of people I have to deal with. It’s a risky business sometimes.’ Lloyd shrugged.

  ‘We arrested Brian Selby two days ago,’ Alan said, changing tack. It was Lloyd’s turn to look shocked.

  ‘Fat Brian?’ Lloyd shrugged. ‘What did he do to get himself arrested?’

  ‘He was coming out of Berwyn woods late at night.’

  ‘And?’ Lloyd said, composing himself. He glanced at Jacob, who had leaned forwards with a concerned expression on his face.

  ‘We found the body of Stuart Radcliffe buried in the woods.’ Kim moved closer to the bed. She watched his expression change. ‘Would you know anything about that?’

  Jacob shook his head.

  ‘No, nothing at all. What happened to him?’ Lloyd asked, feigning surprise.

  ‘Brain Selby said that you shot him,’ Alan said, watching his reaction.

  ‘Me? Brian said that?’ Lloyd sounded disappointed. ‘Stuart and I were friends for years. Why would I kill my friend?’

  ‘You found out that he was an informer,’ Alan said, flatly.

  ‘I am shocked that Brian has blamed me. I can’t say that I’m surprised if I am honest. He’s a strange character.’

  ‘Granted,’ Alan agreed. ‘Strange or not, he has made a statement that you killed Stuart Radcliffe with a spade.’

  Lloyd’s eyes opened wide. He looked at Jacob and laughed. ‘I thought fat Brian said that I shot Stuart.’ Lloyd looked genuinely shocked. ‘As for killing someone with a spade, I haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about!’

  ‘I just want to clarify something,’ Jacob interrupted. ‘You said he had been shot?’

  ‘He was shot but our witness claims that Radcliffe came around while he was being buried and you stabbed him three times with an entrenching tool.’

  ‘An entrenching tool?’ Lloyd asked. ‘What the fuck is that?’

  ‘A folding spade,’ Alan replied, calmly.

  ‘I bet you that if you look through fat Brian’s finances, he’ll have bought one of those.’ Lloyd looked around the room and studied their faces. ‘He’s a geek. If anyone owns one of them, it’s him. I don’t have a lot of folding spades. I’ve been trying to give them up,’ Lloyd said, laughing sourly. ‘Are there prints on the handle?’

  ‘We’re not at liberty to say,’ Kim replied.

  ‘I promise you, lady,’ Lloyd said, sitting forward and smiling. ‘You will not find my prints on that spade. Your witness is a liar.’

  ‘Do you have proof that my client was there?’ Jacob asked, frowning. ‘I’m not hearing anything concrete here.’

  ‘Apart from an eyewitness?’ Kim snapped.

  ‘I should have seen this coming really,’ Lloyd said, shaking his head. ‘Those two never got on from the day Brain approached me with his idea for smuggling gear over the wall into the prison.’

  ‘Brian Selby approached you?’ Alan snorted. ‘I’ve heard it all now.’

  ‘You can ask his work colleague. He’ll verify what I’m saying. His name is Luke Davis. The drone idea was Brian’s. He needed the money to pay for his mother’s carers. He looks after her but needed some help when he was at work.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Kim scoffed.

  ‘Deadly serious,’ Lloyd answered. ‘He’s a very clever man. He builds those drones himself; you know?’

  ‘We know,’ Alan said.

  ‘Have you seen his website?’ Lloyd asked. He could tell by the expression on their faces that they hadn’t. ‘It’s amazing. He flies his drones all over the p
lace and films it and uploads it onto his website. It’s well worth a look.’

  ‘We’ll do that.’

  ‘He comes over as a geek but he has the mind of a criminal. Some of the ideas he had for using his drones were amazing. Don’t fall for the fat child routine,’ he added, wagging his finger at them. ‘Stuart didn’t trust him. He had his number straight away.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Kim asked. She had seen both sides of Brian Selby and she was beginning to have her doubts about just how stupid he was. Lloyd’s version was messing with her mind.

  ‘Stuart hated Brian,’ Lloyd sighed. ‘From the very first time that they met. I should have known that things might get out of hand.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Kim asked, her tone full of frustration.

  ‘They didn’t get on at all,’ Lloyd explained. ‘There was an argument about the drone and they had a fight.’ He paused as if to recall the memories. ‘They took some separating I can tell you. Stuart cut Brian’s face with a knife. He needed stitches.’

  ‘Brian said that you cut his face,’ Alan said, in a matter of fact tone. Lloyd looked annoyed but didn’t react.

  ‘I suppose it would back up his story if he said that I’d cut him but it isn’t the truth. Stuart cut him. Brian was very angry about it. I’ve never seen him become violent like that. He’s a big unit. Brian said that he was going to kill Stuart but Stuart just laughed at him. He said that he wouldn’t know when or where it would happen but he would kill him. I didn’t think that he meant it though, but looking back, there was something in his eyes when he said it, you know what I mean, don’t you?’

  Alan looked at Kim and shook his head. It was obvious that either Lloyd Jones had been working out his answers very carefully with Jacob Graff or Selby was leading them wherever he wanted to. One of them was lying.

  ‘You’re saying that you weren’t there?’ Alan asked for clarity. Lloyd was about to answer but Jacob raised his hand.

  ‘You don’t need to answer that. Are you going to charge my client with the murder of Stuart Radcliffe?’ Jacob interjected.

  ‘Not right now,’ Kim said, looking at Alan. He agreed. ‘We have enough with all the surveillance evidence to keep him here while we decide exactly what to charge him with. There’s so much, we’ll just pick the really bad stuff,’ she said, with a straight face.

  ‘My office is working on exactly what is admissible so I wouldn’t be counting your chickens just yet, detectives,’ Jacob said, with a lizard smile. ‘Your informers were involved in criminal activity themselves while they were gathering evidence. I think we can class the majority of what you have as illegally obtained evidence. Hence it will be thrown out and a jury will never hear most of it.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ Alan sighed, tiring of Graff. ‘There’s enough admissible evidence there to convict the pope. He’s in it way above his head.’

  ‘I don’t think so but I think that we should proceed with ‘no comment’ for now, while you decide how credible your witness is or if he will even testify,’ Jacob said, with a half-smile. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘You know what witnesses are like in this kind of case, very unreliable.’

  ‘I think the forensics will back it up,’ Kim said.

  ‘If you had forensics, you would be charging my client right now.’

  ‘Most of it is still being processed,’ Kim snapped. ‘You know what you said about counting chickens.’

  ‘Brian also told us about your abattoir and the Wicks brothers,’ Alan said, throwing a grenade into the conversation. He wanted to unnerve the smug bastard. Lloyd shot a worried glance at Jacob. The confident mask dropped for a few seconds but soon returned.

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘We’ve made initial enquiries about the Wicks brothers, David and Graham,’ Kim added. ‘They’re listed as missing.’ Lloyd grinned but it looked more like a grimace. ‘Did you know them?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘But you do have an abattoir?’ she pushed. Lloyd looked at Jacob and nodded.

  ‘My client had a legitimate business interest in Caergeiliog a few years ago,’ Jacob interrupted. ‘It consisted of an abattoir; a processing plant; and a working farm shop where the public and trade people could buy meat and produce in bulk at a huge discount. The abattoir and animal pens have since been demolished and sold on as real estate.’ Jacob looked at Lloyd for support. What Jacob had told them was the truth but even Jacob didn’t know about the illegal meat site a few miles away. Lloyd nodded that he was correct. ‘A housing association made an offer that my client and his partners couldn’t refuse. The shop still runs well. All the paperwork is legitimate, they have regular inspections and the business is thriving and well respected.’ He paused to look at the detectives, his face stern. ‘The farm shop won several awards last year for the quality of its produce. I have no idea what your witness is referring to but any slanderous comments aimed at the business will be defended rigorously. As for your missing brothers, charge him with murder or move on.’

  ‘We don’t need to charge him with anything else until we’re ready,’ Alan said, trying hard to remain calm. ‘Possession of a firearm and theft will do for now.’ He paused and looked at Lloyd in the eyes.

  ‘Sorry it’s been a wasted journey for you,’ Lloyd said, smiling.

  ‘Talking to you in handcuffs is never a waste of time, Lloyd,’ Alan said, coldly. ‘We heard from one of our CI’s yesterday that there’s a contract out on you,’ Alan said, gauging the reaction in his eyes. He decided that Lloyd already knew. ‘He said the Karpovs are offering big money for you to be wacked.’ Lloyd didn’t speak but his face flushed purple. There was anger in his eyes. ‘The doctor said that you’ll be moved onto the wings from tomorrow. You’ll be like a fish in a barrel out there.’ Lloyd’s expression darkened. Alan smiled thinly. ‘I think we’ll leave it for now.’ He looked at Kim and she agreed, a half-smile on the corners of her lips. ‘You sleep tight,’ Alan added as they headed for the door. Jacob Graff folded his arms and smiled. It wasn’t a confident smile.

  They made their way back through security and headed for Alan’s BMW. It was a dull morning and dark moody clouds were rolling across the sky, threatening to empty their load on the city. Both detectives were weighing up the situation in their mind.

  ‘What do you make of that?’ Kim spoke first, putting on her seatbelt.

  ‘He didn’t just muddy the water, he took a great big dump in it,’ Alan said, starting the engine. ‘We need to get to Derrick Makin fast and we need to clarify what the CPS is going to allow from the surveillance. As it stands, there is so much doubt in the case that it is way beyond reasonable doubt. I couldn’t convict on what we have and I know that he did it so a jury would have no chance. The CPS will throw it back in our faces.’

  Alan’s mobile rang. The screen showed it was Dr Graham Martin from the forensic lab.

  ‘Dr Martin,’ Alan answered. The call was on loudspeaker. ‘Any good news for us?’

  ‘No,’ Dr Martin said. ‘The thirty-eight-calibre gun that you found on Jones is not the weapon that killed either of your victims. It is clean, I’m afraid.’

  ‘What type of weapon are we looking for, Doctor?’ Kim asked.

  ‘The ammunition was nine-millimetre parabellum, probably a Glock, possibly something older like a Beretta.’

  ‘Doctor, about the Radcliffe killing in the woods,’ Alan said, rubbing his palm over the stubble on his chin. ‘Do we have a definite cause of death yet?’

  ‘Well, he was shot first, as you know and then we have the three deep lacerations to the face and neck, which were inflicted while he was buried. The killer blow was to the throat. The larynx was smashed and the carotid artery was severed causing massive blood loss and cardiac arrest.’ He paused. ‘Does that help?’

  ‘Not unless you can tell us who was holding the spade at the time,’ Alan said, shaking his head.

  ‘I can’t do that but I can confirm that the prints on the handle belong to
Brian Selby.’ Alan and Kim exchanged glances. ‘I’m still waiting for the DNA to come back. That could be another week, not that it is going to help much is it?’

  ‘It would be enough to put Jones at the scene but I’m not holding my breath. Thanks, Doctor,’ Alan sighed. The line went dead. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

  ‘Brian Selby killed Radcliffe?’ Kim said, sourly. ‘I can’t see that man shooting anyone, can you?’

  ‘I don’t see it,’ Alan agreed. He switched the headlights on as the rain intensified. ‘But the spade will be his. I’m sure of that and his prints are on it.’

  ‘His prints are on it because it is his spade,’ Kim said, trying to find an explanation. ‘What if Jones was there but had gloves on. He shot Radcliffe, buried him but he starts to struggle because he isn’t dead, so, he stabs him through the dirt, just like Selby said.’

  Alan glanced at her. She looked stressed. He could see that she was trying to work out a way to lay the blame with Lloyd Jones, twisting things in her mind to make them fit.

  ‘What if he wasn’t there?’

  ‘He was there. I know he was there and I know he shot Radcliffe. The rest of what happened is a cluster-fuck and it could jeopardise us proving Jones had anything to do with it. Something about Selby’s version isn’t sitting right with me.’

  ‘Classic one man’s word against another. We don’t have any proof to put Jones there but we do have Selby’s prints on the spade. It’s not looking good for him right now.’

  ‘Lloyd Jones is behind all of this,’ Kim said, playing with the hair at her temple, curling around her finger. ‘Do you know what I hope for?’ Kim said, looking out of the window as the rain began to pour. The windscreen wipers squeaked into action. Alan turned the heating up and looked at her without answering. He could see in her eyes what she meant before she said it. ‘I hope someone gets to him in there and saves us a massive pain in the arse.’