DI Giles BoxSet

by Anna-Marie Morgan

  “Placements around the whole of the UK are pretty tight. Dyfed-Powys offered me a place.”

  “I see.” Yvonne indicated the direction to the coffee area. “Well, I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “It is beautiful, here,” he concurred.

  “Just in time.” Dewi was finishing making drinks for himself, the DI, Chris Halliwell and DC Jones. DC Clayton was absent, being one of the officers who had gone down with Norovirus.

  “This is DC Callum Jones, and DS Dewi Hughes.” Yvonne nodded in Dewi’s direction. “DS Hughes makes the best tea in the station.”

  Dewi grinned. “I can’t quite remember what Yvonne’s tea tastes like-“

  Yvonne laughed. “The cheek of it! Why, I’m sure I made one only the other day.”

  “Exactly.” Dewi put his hands on his hips in mock indignation.

  Chris laughed with everyone else and the DI was happy he seemed more relaxed.

  “I’m pleased to meet you all,” he said, shaking hands with the two men. “Can I ask what sort of cases you’re working on?”

  Yvonne nodded. “We’ve got a few things on the go, but the most pressing are a hit-and-run death of a young boy and three river deaths. On the face of it, the river deaths look like accidental drownings, but I think there are a few loose ends that need exploring, including their close proximity in time.” She grimaced. “Though, I’m not sure everyone agrees with me about that.”

  “No, I can see where you’re coming from.” Dewi handed round the mugs. “I don’t think we’d be doing the families justice if we didn’t investigate any doubts - no matter how small.”

  “How old are you, Chris? If you don’t mind my asking?” Yvonne tilted her head to one side.

  “Twenty-two, ma’am.” He took a sip of his tea and nodded appreciatively towards Dewi.

  “Then, you’re not much older than the three young men we found floating in the river after they’d been out on the town.”

  PC Halliwell cleared his throat. “I see.”

  Yvonne patted him on the back. “Anyway, we’ll look a little more at these cases, shortly. For now, let’s drink up and I’ll show you around.

  The following day, Yvonne strode into the station an hour earlier than usual. Dewi was waiting for her.

  “Dewi? I got your message. What was so urgent?” The DI stood catching her breath.

  “Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t have time to leave a longer voicemail. They found another body in the river this morning. No identification, as yet. I’ve been looking through missing persons and there’s a couple of possibilities. I think it most likely to be a Steven Bryant, a nineteen-year-old college student. He was studying law at Aberystwyth University, and staying with his parents, in Newtown, for the summer. Missing for three weeks…er,” Dewi checked his notes, “went missing on a Saturday.”

  “Saturday day-time?”

  “Early hours of Saturday, ma’am.”

  “Oh no…when did you know he was missing?”

  “Only now. I got a call from Callum. He’d been working with uniform on a drugs bust, in the small hours, when news of the body came in. I got here as soon as I could. I’ve been checking MisPer lists.”

  “How come we didn’t know sooner?”

  “I’ve taken a look on the system. We were only informed six days ago, ma’am, it seems there was some confusion, as the family thought he may have gone back to Aberystwyth to stay with friends. It was something he’d mentioned doing. It’s only when he’d been away for a couple of weeks, and they had had no contact in that time, that they began to be concerned. Apparently it wasn’t unusual for him to just take off, sometimes.”

  “What is going on?” The DI ran a hand through her hair and stared through the window, deep lines furrowing her forehead. “Three young men dead in the river in such a short time frame…” She shook her head. “Let me know as soon as his identity is confirmed, okay?”

  Dewi sighed, and, as she turned back towards him, the DI noticed he was looking a little dishevelled.

  “Is everything alright, Dewi?”

  “Fine, ma’am. Why d’you ask?”

  “You’re looking tired.”

  “Oh.” Dewi gave a chuckle. “We had our eighteen-month-old grandson to stay last night. Gave us the runaround. I’ll sleep like a log tonight.” Dewi nodded over in the direction of someone bent over a PC in the corner.

  Yvonne raised her eyebrows and whispered, “Halliwell? What’s he doing here so early?”

  “Obviously an early bird.” Dewi shrugged.

  PC Halliwell looked up from his notes.

  Yvonne nodded at him, turning back to Dewi. “Are they still at the river?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “The recovery. Is it still in progress? Or has it finished?”

  “It’s still in progress, as far as I know. I thought you might like to go down there.”

  “You’re right, I would.” The DI grabbed a spare pen and shouted to PC Halliwell for him to follow them.

  The river level had dropped several inches, though it was still fast flowing. The body was barely forty feet from the bridge in Newtown, known as The Long Bridge. It looked like it had been caught by a large branch, at the edge of rapids. The DI could see that the stomach of the dead man was severely bloated. He lay face up. The police photographer stood in the river, needing every inch of his waste-high waders. He took a number of shots prior to the body being loaded onto the rescue dinghy.

  Yvonne left the river path and took a narrow, dirt cut-through to a stony beach by the water. Chris Halliwell followed. Dewi was deep in conversation with his friend, Carwyn.

  The DI stood, hands deep in her jacket pockets. Watching. Thinking. A brisk breeze teased out tendrils of her hair and busied them round her face. She brushed them away distractedly, only for them to return. The sounds from the busy main road above disappeared as she stared across the water, trying to picture the victim’s last moments. The suspicions she had toyed with previously were fermenting into something which felt urgent to her. Two bodies were too many, and now there were three. If this became four, she would hold herself personally responsible.

  Halliwell stood silently beside her, observing and respecting her silence. He was a good foot-and-a-half taller. He crouched, leaning his arm on his knees.

  “Do you have a family?” Yvonne asked, still looking ahead of her to the activity on the river.

  His eyes widened, as though taken aback by the question. “I…I have a mum and a daughter, who I don’t see anywhere near as often as I’d like to.”

  “A daughter?” Yvonne looked at him properly now. He didn’t look old enough. She said so.

  “I won’t say it was a mistake.” Halliwell shook his head. “I could never see her as a mistake. But she was the result of a one-night-stand, when I was seventeen. She’s nearly six. She’s hemiplegic. Bright as a button, but the right side of her body doesn’t work as well as her left. I idolise her.”

  Yvonne gave him a wistful smile. “What’s your daughter’s name?”

  “Sally.”

  “Lovely name.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, how come you don’t see her as often as you’d like?”

  “I work shifts and her mum is married to a guy who isn’t exactly a fan.”

  “I see-“

  “But the light in my little girls eyes…when she sees me.” He shook his head again. “It’s like nothing else. To see her push her weaker leg as fast as she can, to run into my arms. It’s all I can do to hold back the tears.”

  Yvonne nodded, a soft smile curling the corners of her mouth. She held out a hand and rubbed his arm.

  Dewi made his way over.

  “Who found him, Dewi?” Yvonne put her hands back in her pockets.

  “A dog walker saw what they thought was a large bag floating in the river. The dog ran towards it, barking, apparently. It was then that the owner took a closer look and realised it was actually a body.”

  �
��How long has he been in the river?”

  Carwyn seems to think at least a couple of weeks. Body is very gassy and the SAR guys are worried they might have de-gloving, if they’re not very careful.”

  Yvonne shuddered. De-gloving referred to the skin coming away from the hands at the wrists, something which could happen if the body had been submerged long enough. She explained this to Halliwell.

  “When will we know if it’s Steven Bryant?” she asked Dewi.

  “Later tonight, ma’am. DC Jones contacted the family, and Steven’s father will be attending the mortuary this evening.”

  “I don’t envy Carwyn his job, Dewi.” The DI sighed.

  Dewi shook his head. “Me neither, but we see our own fair share of death.”

  The DI couldn’t argue with that.

  Yvonne kicked off her shoes and wandered through to her kitchen to pour an ample glass of South African chardonnay. A chicken curry slow-cooking in the oven, she carried the wine through to the dining table, where she had strewn as many photographs of the dead young men as she possessed.

  Some of the photographs were those taken whilst they were still in the water, others were stills from CCTV, documenting a mere few minutes from their final hours. Yet others, were those taken in life and supplied by their families. Those were the photographs of the men in full bloom - smiling or laughing into the camera as they completed some dare-devil feat, or else relaxing with friends. Enjoying life. The DI sighed.

  Looking at them in this way, she was struck by their similar appearance. She considered them all handsome. They were athletic and wiry. Similar height and weight, and a similar confidence in their eyes. From the information she had in front of her, they were all involved in sport of one form or another, and all had continued their education beyond school.

  She was struck, also, by the similarity in the circumstances of their disappearance. All had been out with friends past midnight. All had become separated from those friends. All had set off home, alone. Young men drowning on their way home from a night out was becoming a thing. The question was, why?

  She had consumed a good half of the wine before the phone call came in from Dewi. He had volunteered to be at the morgue when the latest victim’s father arrived to identify him.

  “Was it Steve, Dewi?” She held her breath.

  “It was, ma’am.”

  “Oh god.”

  “Ted Bryant is going to come into the station again tomorrow. Apparently his son tried to text them the night he went missing. Nothing came through on the text.”

  “It was blank?”

  “Yes. Nothing in it.”

  “Can you do that? Send a blank text?”

  “Apparently, they tried calling him back but they just kept getting voicemail. They left several messages.”

  “Did SAR recover the phone?”

  “No. His phone, jacket and wallet are missing.”

  “Maybe we’re looking at a mugging gone wrong-“

  “Could be, but he could have lost his jacket during his struggle to survive in the water. If the phone and wallet were in his jacket pockets, stands to reason they would be gone as well.”

  “Could you have a word with Carwyn? See if they’ll check that stretch of river for the jacket?”

  “I think they are already on it, but I’ll check, ma’am.”

  “Thanks, Dewi. Now, get yourself home and don’t rush in tomorrow, okay? I’ll get Jones and Clayton to grab all the CCTV footage they can find, from the night he went missing. We’ll go through it tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Right you are.”

  They waited with baited breath. DC Callum Jones fiddled with the file and finally got it working. “Okay, this is a compilation of all of the footage we’ve been able to get. We have five pieces altogether. We have video from three of the town cameras, footage from inside of the Castle vaults, and footage from the alleyway outside of the Castle Vaults. One of the town cameras caught him as he walked over the bridge on his way home. We lose him completely after that.”

  The images were grainy, but clear enough to understand what was going on. The initial footage showed Steven leaving the Sportsman with his friends and waving to them, as they walked on towards the Castle, and he went around the corner from the Sportsman, to Barclays, where he appeared to extract money from the auto-bank.

  The footage then showed him walking the two hundred yards, along Broad Street, to the Castle. It struck Yvonne that, at that point, he was walking reasonably well and showed little sign of being so intoxicated he could fall into the river. She made a note.

  The next footage was from inside of the Castle. It showed Steven at the bar, ordering a pint and then having various short conversations with friends and people he had just bumped into. It was obvious he knew them. He played one game of pool, which he narrowly lost, and then he said his goodbyes. He exited through the back door, into the alleyway.

  At that point, the camera footage switched to that from the alley camera. Yvonne sat forward in her seat, peering at the screen. She could hardly credit that this was the same man. And yet, from his clothing and appearance, it was. But, this man wobbled. He almost stumbled down the steps. As he entered the alleyway, he set off one way, swayed, corrected himself, and then turned back the other way towards Broad Street.

  He continued to sway as he fumbled for his mobile phone. He appeared to be having difficulty using it and, the DI suspected, this may have been when he tried texting his parents and sent the blank message.

  “There.” DC Clayton got up and paused the footage. “He’s clearly had a skinful. Look at him with the phone, he’s wobbling all over the place.”

  Yvonne pursed her lips. “I agree. But how?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Well, you saw him leave the Sportsman. He got his money and walked up Broad Street. I didn’t see him wobbling then.”

  “Right.” Dewi nodded. “And we only see him having one pint after that. Are we really to believe that that one pint made such a difference?”

  “We should find out when he ate. Could be that his stomach had only just emptied and a lot of alcohol hit his bloodstream at once.”

  Yvonne shook her head. “I know what you’re saying, but I don’t see it making that big a difference. Can we double-check the time frame. Have we got all the connecting footage?”

  Callum did a rewind, confirming, for everyone, that they did indeed have everything and there were no gaps.

  “He went to the toilet.” Dewi tapped his pen on his chin. “Maybe he took something.”

  “That’s what I was wondering.” Yvonne stood up. “Except, I don’t think he was known to use drugs. Anything on his parents’ radar?”

  Dai Clayton shook his head. “No history, and not suspected to be using by his family, or the friends questioned so far.”

  PC Halliwell cleared his throat. “Can we go back and watch his drink? Is it possible something was slipped into it by someone else? We know that his jacket, wallet and phone are still missing. Perhaps his drink was spiked to enable someone to take his stuff.”

  “Absolutely.” Yvonne nodded vigorously. “I was thinking along the same lines. That was a massive change in his demeanour and it happened within about thirty minutes. I agree with Chris. I think there’s a possibility his drink was tampered with.”

  The footage was rewound, but no tampering had been caught on camera. Unfortunately, only meagre glimpses of the pint were gleaned, as it sat on the edge of the bar. The Castle was packed and bodies continually moved back and for, obscuring their view.

  “Well,” Yvonne moved to the front of the room, to face them all directly. “At least we’ve got an idea of the condition he was in when he sent his parents the blank text. Callum, can you confirm with them the time?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We also know that, in principle, he was intoxicated enough to be staggering, and therefore potentially liable to fall in the water, when wandering by the river.”

  Th
ere were nods and grunts from the rest of the team.

  “But I have massive doubts around the reasons for his intoxication and I can’t get my head around how he ended up by the river, when we have footage of him staggering over Longbridge on his way towards the Cresent. He would have had to double-back on himself and descend the steep steps down to the river path. Which we know he didn’t do, or we’d have it on CCTV.”

  “Unless he kept on going,” Dewi offered. “He may have carried on past his parents’ road and taken the bridge by MacDonalds. If he entered that car park, he could have accessed the river path there.”

  “Can we get the CCTV?”

  “Will do, ma’am, but the coverage is not as good. We should have him if he is on that bridge, though, or if he entered or passed MacDonalds.”

  “Great. Keep on trying to trace his jacket and belongings, as well.”

  “Will do.”

  9

  Hit and run

  Dai, can I have a word?” Yvonne jogged after DC Clayton, as he fast-paced down the corridor.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Any news on the small car involved in the hit-and-run? I said I’d call the parents later with any updates.”

  “Did I hear you say hit-and-run and updates, in the same sentence?” DCI LLewellyn approached from behind them.

  Yvonne closed her eyes. “You did, sir, yes.”

  “Oh, good. So, are there any?” He placed both hands on his hips.

  Dai Clayton grimaced. “Er, no.”

  “Can I ask why not? It’s been four weeks.”

  Yvonne rubbed her chin.

  Dai took out his pocketbook. “We’ve eliminated huge numbers of vehicles. Mostly those of parents of the school children, Garthowen and Maesyrhandir residents, and regular sports centre users. We’ve cross-checked vehicle regs from CCTV footage of Maldwyn sports centre car park and checked out those vehicles. None damaged and none had been to garages for damage-related work.” Clayton sighed. “What we haven’t been able to do is check out any through-traffic.”

  Yvonne nodded. “It’s used as a cut-through, isn’t it? When New Road is busy? Which it was, there having been a load shed from an artic lorry, down by the bridge at Nantoer. You can bet a couple of hundred vehicles went past the school that wouldn’t normally have done so.”