“But your children don’t need sitters now-“
“It wasn’t her choice to stop coming. It was his.”
“Did you resent him for that?”
“He had no idea how to treat her. He was jealous.”
“Of what?”
Clive fell silent.
Yvonne frowned. “I’m curious as to why witnesses said you’d had an argument, if that was all that was said.”
“Yeah, well, there was a bit of back and forth. He gave me a shove. I shoved him back. He wasn’t very steady on his feet.”
“Where did the argument occur?”
“I dunno. Castle…I think.”
“What time did you leave the Castle?”
“I left when they threw us out.”
“What time was that?”
“By time we left, probably about one o’clock. Maybe just after.”
“Where did you go then?”
He leaned back on his bike. “I thought you were interested in his state of mind?” The muscles in his face had stiffened.
“Did you go home?”
“No. I went to the nightclub with my mates.”
“Crystals?” Yvonne held her tongue. He seemed a little old for that nightclub’s clientele.
“Yes.”
“Stay there long?”
“About an hour.”
“You like music, then.”
“I sometimes feel like continuing the party, when I’ve had a few. Don’t we all?”
“When was the last time you saw Lloyd?”
“Last time I saw him was in the Castle. He must have left before me. I didn’t see him leave. By that time, I wasn’t paying him any attention.”
Yvonne cast her eyes around the green rolling hills and the woods, just beyond where they stood. The air was permeated by the rich sound and smell of animals. “I bet this is a lovely place to farm.” Her eyes came back to Clive Jones.
“Been in my family for generations. It’s in our blood. Can’t imagine doing anything else.” His body relaxed. “Do you like what you do?” he asked, spitting a couple of feet to his left.
Yvonne flinched. “It’s a compulsion.” She folded her arms. “If you remember anything else from that night, I’d like you to call us at the station. Ring 101 and ask for DI Giles or DS Hughes.”
“Sure. Can I go, now?”
“You’ve always been free to go. Thanks for talking to us.”
He kick-started his motorbike and turned it back up the field, kicking up the dirt as he went.
“Why do I have a niggling suspicion he likes young girls?” Yvonne pursed her lips.
“Perhaps we should ask Wendy what she really thinks of him?” Dewi offered, already picking his way back to the car.
Yvonne smiled, as she watched him gingerly trying to avoid the excrement. “Next time, bring your wellies.”
15
Rob Davies
They drove up New Road, until it joined with Llanidloes Road, aiming for the roundabout at the top of town. A right turn brought them to the campus of Newtown College.
Rob Davies had agreed to meet them at the Cwm Harry allotments, where he had been helping out occasionally, between lectures.
He was waiting at the allotment gates. Although dressed casually, in jeans and a hoody, his clothing had the appearance of quality and he appeared smart, with an air of confidence which belied his nineteen years. His mid-length brown hair was tied in a small ponytail.
“Rob Davies?” Yvonne called out, as she fiddled with the gate latch.
“That’s me.” He came over to help her.
In the distance, the DI could see an array of polytunnels. “Thank you,” she said.
“You wanted to talk to me about James?”
“Yes.” Yvonne introduced herself and Dewi, but Rob knew their names from the note he’d been given.
He smiled and nodded, before placing the knuckle of his right forefinger in his mouth. “Caught it on thorn.” He grimaced. “Keep getting stuff in it and it stings like hell.”
He led them to a couple of seats near a shed, and motioned for them to sit. “I was really sorry to hear about James. We didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but what happened to him…” His voice trailed away and he turned his gaze to the trees in the distance.
That was something, at least. His wistfulness appeared genuine. Yvonne sighed. “It’s a terrible tragedy. And I don’t mean that to sound glib. He was so young and that was no way to die.”
“No.” Rob shook his head. “How can I help? If there’s anything I can do, I will.”
“Thanks.” Dewi sat with his legs stretched out in front of him. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions about the night James was last seen.”
“Okay. Fire away.”
Yvonne opened her pocket book and licked the end of her pen, to get the ink flowing. “How long had you known James?”
“Oooh, about eight years, give-or-take. We were in high school together.”
“Were you friends in school?”
“We were. We weren’t best friends or anything, but we hung out in the same groups, played football and hung around the playground together. Didn’t usually see much of him outside of school unless we were involved in the same sports match. We were in the high school football team. James even had trials with a premier league club.”
“He did?”
“Yeah. Liverpool. I’m not sure, but they may even have offered him an apprenticeship there, but he didn’t take it. That was the rumour, anyway.”
“Why didn’t he take it?”
“Sally.”
“His girlfriend?”
“That’s right. She’s a couple of years older than him, and she’d already started college, here, at the campus behind you. He didn’t want to leave her or disrupt her education, so he made the decision to go to college, himself.”
“Thoughtful young man.”
“Yeah. Yeah, he was.” Rob stared at the ground, his eyes glazed.
“So, tell me about the night James was last seen alive.” Yvonne’s pen paused over the page, her eyes studying the young man in front of her.
“It was a typical Friday night, really. There were about ten of us, altogether, out in town. We drank in the Buck and the Exchange, the Elephant and Castle, the Sportsman, and finished up in the Castle Vaults.”
“Did you notice anything unusual about James that night?”
“Not really, no. I mean we were all getting merry as we usually do.”
“Did you have an argument with James that night?”
Rob sighed. “I did…I did.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I really wish I hadn’t. If only I could go back.”
“What was it about?”
“Something stupid. Silly.”
“Go on.”
“Well, like I say, we were merry and well on our way to being drunk.” He ran his hands through his hair again. “James wolf-whistled a couple of girls in the bar at the Sportsman. It probably wasn’t anything more than a bit of banter, but, for some reason, I got annoyed at it. I’m not a fan of wolf-whistling girls, anyway, but I was aware that Sally doted on him, and I reminded him that she was at home waiting.”
“How did he take it?”
“He got upset, and accused me of wanting her for myself. Said I hadn’t got over her leaving me for him. Truth is, he was probably right.”
“You used to be an item with James’ girlfriend?”
“Back in high school, yes. She was my first love, actually. She was just starting sixth form when we got together. I was just beginning my GCSE courses. She was sixteen and I was fourteen. We never did any more than kiss, but we’d spend a lot of time talking about the things that interested us. She’s a good debater.”
“So, you were still with Sally when James began to see her?”
“She finished with me before she started dating him. She told me I was too young for her. James was a year older than me. And that was that.”
“You took it hard?”
“Cried my eyes out. For a few months I hated him. But I got over it. I still missed her, but, she was right. At the time, I was too young.”
“What happened, when he got upset?”
“We squared up to each other. Started pushing each other around. Our friends told us to cut it out and then the barman came from behind the bar to tells us to pack it in or leave.”
“The barman…you mean Geoff Griffiths?”
“Yes, Geoff Griffiths.” He rubbed his chin. “It’s funny, I’d seen Geoff staring over at James a few times, while we were in there. Watching him intently. Like maybe he was expecting him to cause trouble, at some point.”
“Do you think that was why he had been so quick to appear from behind the bar?”
“I do.”
“Had James caused trouble in the Sportsman before?”
“I don’t recall him ever having done so. I mean, James would get a bit loud occasionally, singing and stuff. Perhaps, that was it. He was getting a little bit too loud, like wolf-whistling the girls, etc.”
“You said that Geoff told you to ‘pack it in and leave’,” Yvonne read from her notes. “Did he say anything, specifically, to James?”
“He grabbed his arm and told him he’d had enough. I was a bit surprised by that, because I didn’t think James was that drunk. Not at that time.”
“Did you see James after the argument?”
“Yes, we all went to the Castle, but I don’t remember James being there for very long. He disappeared and I didn’t see him go. None of us saw him go. He certainly didn’t make an effort to say goodnight to any of us, that I recall.”
“And, you didn’t see him again after that?”
“No. The next time I saw him was when his picture was being shared all over Facebook, saying he’d disappeared and asking if anyone had seen him. I kept an eye out, but thought he’d probably ended up going home with someone. I didn’t think too much of it. But his body was found floating in the river and I realised just how serious the situation had been.” James shook his head. “Unbelievable, really.”
“Would you say, in your opinion, that he had been drunk enough to fall in the river accidentally?”
“Well, that’s the odd part. Although he was on his way to getting drunk in the Sportsman, he wasn’t stumbling around, he was holding himself fine. But, when I saw him briefly in the Castle, he looked pretty far-gone. Couldn’t have been more than half-an-hour in between. He seemed to get very drunk very quickly, and then, yes, I could have envisaged him having an accident in that state. If he’d come to say goodbye, I’d have suggested he get a taxi, or that one of us saw him home.”
“Really?”
“Really. I know we’d argued, but I would never have wished what happened to him on anyone. Whether-or-not they’d previously stolen my girlfriend.”
Yvonne nodded. She gave a shiver, as she caught the first hint of Autumn. The air had cooled considerably. Above them, clouds covered any blue sky that had been left over from the morning. The DI wished she had brought a more substantial coat.
“Thank you, Rob. We may need to talk to you again.” Her hip clicked, as she raised herself from the chair. She felt a twinge in her lower back, as she straightened up.
“Anytime, Inspector. Anytime.”
16
Secrets of the river
The dank morning air spiked the hairs on her arms and neck. A curling mist stealthily rose from the river. Without closing her eyes, Yvonne could still see Lloyd and William’s bodies floating on the surface of the water. Her own body shuddered, involuntarily.
Footsteps coming from behind had her swinging around to her right. A smiling Tasha, holding a fresh coffee in each hand, approached along the path. “Jumpy?” She held out one of the coffees, which the DI gratefully accepted.
“I was deep in thought. Autumn’s here, already.”
“I know. Just look at that mist. After what I’ve been hearing about this river, I’m not sure I’d want to be here alone.”
Yvonne grimaced. “At this time, you’d probably be safe enough. But, at just gone midnight? After you’d had a few? Perhaps, a different story.”
Tasha took a gulp of her coffee. “After this, I’ll be fully awake.” She replaced the lid. “So, what are we doing out here at seven am?”
“I’m going to ask for you to be officially in on this case. I’ll ask Llewellyn this morning. “
“Okay, and?”
“And I just wanted to get my thoughts straight before I do. I have to make sure I get my points across, and that my thoughts are not a jumbled mess. I think someone is drowning young men in the river, or killing them first and then dumping the bodies in the river. I wanted to run everything past you, so I have a working theory to run past the DCI.”
She proceeded to fill Tasha in on the postmortem results for William Henkel, finishing with, “He was killed on land and then placed in the water.”
“Someone obviously covering their tracks.” Tasha pursed her lips. “Do you know where he went in?”
“Not yet. I thought we could wander along and get into the head of his killer. Maybe that would help us with determining the possible dumping places. I suspect we’d be looking at somewhere close to a road or car park. Somewhere close to the water, without too much risk of discovery.”
Tasha pressed her lips together and tilted her head to one side. “How’d he choose this victim?”
“William was last seen by friends in town, following a night out.”
“Okay, so similar to the other recent deaths?”
“Right.”
“Did the killer abduct him? Or, did he lure him home with the promise of more alcohol? Just a thought, but did the pathologist test for drugs?”
“We’re awaiting a full toxicology report. I’ve requested they test for GHB, amongst other things, even though I know that it disappears from the system very quickly. There might still be a trace.”
“It would be hard to abduct a fit young man, unless he was extremely intoxicated, drugged, or went willingly.”
“Or there was more than one perp. You know, a date rape drug would explain the seemingly intoxicated state of at least two of the other victims. Both of them went from tipsy to legless in around thirty minutes.”
“Do you know anything about William’s sexuality?”
“Not yet, the team are talking to his friends and family. But, I do know that other recent drowning victims were straight. Or, at least, they definitely had steady girlfriends.”
“Okay, but it wouldn’t be unheard of for seemingly straight men to have gay sex or even be bisexual.”
“Yes. Nothing’s ruled out at this stage. What I will say, however, is we’ve found no evidence of any sexual interference with the victims. You know the locals have begun to compare this to the Manchester canal deaths. They are even speculating that The Pusher is staying around here.”
“The pusher being the urban-legend killer that has been ruled out by police authorities?”
“Yes. Any more deaths and we might be facing local hysteria. I can just see the DCI loving that.”
“There’ve been several deaths in Bristol, too. Again, no official acceptance of any serial killer theory but the locals are up in arms.” Tasha took another couple of swigs of her coffee. Her coffee-heated breath formed white clouds as she spoke. “Not only that, but young men have been turning up in the northern United States, around Interstates 90 and 94. Places like Minnesota and Wisconsin. All college age men, many of them very bright and athletic. Many actual college students. There are some who believe there is a network of killers, they’ve dubbed the Smiley Face Killers. It’s not an officially held view. At least, if it is, no-one in authority is admitting it. The claim is that like-minded killers are talking to each other over the internet, on the dark web. They egg each other on to go and kill.”
Yvonne shook her head. “If we are losing so many young men that people are seriously questioning what is going on, then maybe we
are looking at something more than just accidental deaths in some of these cases.”
“Perhaps. I know that there have been many open verdicts on these deaths. Cause undetermined. Including many of the Manchester canal deaths.”
Yvonne shivered, both hands gripping the still-warm cup of coffee. “Let’s hope it’s nothing so organised as a web of killers. That would be a terrifying prospect.”
Tasha nodded. “But, for a lot of drowning cases, the answers will of course be mundane. Accident, suicide, an attempting to swim whilst too intoxicated.”
“Yes, well, we have one homicide that we know of, and potentially at least two more. Wait a minute, you said Smiley Face Killers. Why are they called Smiley Face?”
“They allegedly leave graffiti of smiley-face emojis where the victims are thought to have entered the water.”
“Oh.” Yvonne frowned, looking at the ground.
“What is it?” Tasha tilted her head, trying to get a look at the DI’s face.
“Probably nothing, but I saw the chalked Roman numeral for two on an ash tree close to where Lloyd Jones’ phone was found. I was convinced that someone had set that up to mislead us as to where he went in. He just didn’t have the injuries to support slipping and falling into the water via those boulders at the bottom. If we have one killer, Lloyd would have been the second victim.”
Tasha looked wide-eyed at the DI. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, the Roman numeral is unlikely to have been left by the killer, if it is not actually the place where Lloyd went in.”
“Except, there is another scenario.” Yvonne frowned. “What if Lloyd was led down the bank, in his intoxicated state, and his head held under the water until he was dead?”
“Woah. Wouldn’t that have left tell-tale signs?”
“I don’t know. I’ll write it in my notepad and ask Hanson later.”
“Where do you think William went in?”
“SOCO and Hanson are working on the likely distances his body travelled after rising to the surface. They’re looking at river height and flow-rates etc, to come up with likely entry points. They’ll have search teams out combing the banks when they have an idea. I just thought I might get a head start by looking at spots where the road isn’t too far away from the river. Like I say, if William was already dead, the killer had to carry his body. He wouldn’t have wanted to do that for any significant distance.”
DI Giles BoxSet Page 78