There was more laughter from around the room. Ruth watched Sian giggling.
‘Bollocks. That’s such a lie. I was resting my eyes,’ Dan protested.
‘Yeah, well anyway, you two love birds are on first watch,’ Ruth quipped.
‘What are we looking for, boss?’ French asked.
‘Run the plates of everyone that goes in and out of that place. Is it just Rachel Ryan who leaves the farm, or anyone else? If they have visitors or deliveries, who are they? Keep an eye out for the children. How do they seem when they’re outside? Is this place being run like a holiday camp or a prison?’ Ruth said. ‘Right everyone, let’s get to work. I want to know what Callum Roper was so scared of, why he was killed, and what the bloody hell is going on at Solace Farm.’
As the detectives dispersed to computer stations or out of the office, Ruth saw Nick coming in.
Where the bloody hell has he been?
‘Nice of you to join us, Nicholas,’ Ruth said as she wandered back to her office.
‘I found something, boss. I was speaking to Kev in the canteen. He’s a sergeant down in uniform,’ Nick explained.
‘Great. So you were chatting to your mate in the canteen while you were meant to be up here helping me out,’ Ruth said. She was teasing him and he knew it.
‘We were talking about the accident and Callum Roper. Kev tells me about a missing girl they’ve been trying to find for about eighteen months. Ketha Langley,’ Nick said.
Ruth thought for a second. ‘Name doesn’t ring a bell.’
‘I pulled her file. Ketha Langley was involved in county lines drug gangs up in Rhyl. She was arrested for supply and released on bail. And then she disappeared off the face of the planet,’ Nick said.
Get to the bloody point, Nick, Ruth thought.
‘So on her report, we have distinguishing marks. Ketha Langley had a tattoo of the name Mary on her right arm. Same as Callum’s tattoo of Thomas,’ Nick said.
‘That could be a coincidence,’ Ruth said.
‘Get this. She also had circular scars on the palms of her hands and on the right side by her hip.’
Ruth’s eyes widened – Now that doesn’t sound like a coincidence!
CHAPTER 14
It was mid-afternoon. Rachel was holding a religious study session in the chapel. The Family was seated on wooden benches, and most of them had well-worn copies of the Bible. Some of the younger children muttered or talked towards the back of the room as their parents hushed them, telling them to listen.
Rachel normally loved Bible study. It was the chance to fully emerse herself in the word of the Lord. However, the visit from the detectives had given her some cause for concern and she knew that she was regressing to past behaviours of anxiety and fear. That was the point of her faith. She was no longer in control of the majority of things that happened in her life. And that was a relief. It was God’s will and he was in charge.
Opening her Bible to “Hebrews”, Rachel looked at her congregation and said quietly, ‘I’m going to read you something. This is Hebrews, Chapter 12. Be careful that you do listen to the One who is speaking. For if they did not escape when they rejected him who warned them on earth, even less will we if we turn away from him who warns us from heaven.’
Rachel let her reading sink in for a few seconds. After Thomas’ disappearance and the arrival of the police officers, it was important for her to re-establish her authority which had been ordained on her by God.
‘What the Bible tells us is that those who have not heard the word of God are not the ones who need to truly worry. It is those who have heard the word of God from a prophet here on earth, and from the Lord himself, and choose to ignore what they have heard.’ Rachel closed the Bible slowly, looked at them all, and spoke in a gentle tone. ‘To reject what they have heard ... To escape back to an easier but more sinful life. The consequences for their souls are catastrophic. God’s judgement on their souls will be damning ... And who is the prophet who has carried the word of God to you?’
‘It’s you, Rachel,’ the congregation replied in unison.
‘I have been brought here to save you. We are the chosen few. And when God sends his only son Jesus Christ down to us for a second time, it is all of us here who will be greeted with open arms.’ Rachel looked around at the members of The Family who nodded in agreement as she spoke with a beaming smile. It felt so good. ‘We will be rewarded with eternal life and eternal happiness. Now I want you to go out from here this afternoon with the good Lord in all of your hearts. There is nothing out there for us in our old lives except pain and eternal damnation. It is here, in this family that we have created, that you will find peace, love and hope.’
With that, Rachel indicated with her arms that the Bible study meeting was over. The members of The Family, now smiling from the hope that Rachel’s words had just given them, got up and began to file out.
As Rachel got her things together, Simon approached. He looked anxious – but then again, Simon always looked anxious. He had his binoculars draped around his neck.
‘Is that how you’re going to leave here this afternoon, Simon?’ Rachel asked him.
‘Sorry, I ...’ Simon said with a frown, sounding flustered.
Rachel clapped him on the back. ‘With the Good Lord in your heart, Simon. With feelings of peace, love and hope?’
‘Oh yes, of course,’ Simon said, but he clearly had something to tell her.
‘Something bothering you?’ Rachel prompted.
‘I need to show you something.’ He beckoned Rachel to the large window on the other side of the room.
‘Okay. I have to go into town, so can we make this quick?’ Rachel said as she got to the window and looked out. ‘What exactly am I looking at?’
‘The cottage down by where the road splits. A car arrived there about half an hour ago. No one’s lived in that cottage for years. A couple got out, probably in their thirties,’ Simon explained handing her the binoculars.
‘Maybe they’ve bought it?’ Rachel suggested as she looked at the cottage, although the news had aroused her suspicions.
‘It’s a shell. I’m not sure it’s even habitable. They had bags with them,’ Simon said. ‘If you ask me, they looked like police officers.’
‘That sounds a bit paranoid, Simon,’ Rachel snorted, handing the binoculars back to him.
‘Maybe. It has to be worth keeping an eye on them though, doesn’t it?’
Rachel shrugged. ‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we go and see for ourselves?’
Simon’s eyes widened. ‘What do you mean?’
‘If we have new neighbours, then God would want us to go and welcome them, wouldn’t he?’
PUSHING UP THE FIRST floor window, Sian looked out at the countryside beyond – and the buildings that marked out Solace Farm. The cottage for the surveillance operation smelled musty and damp. The carpet in the large bedroom was red, patterned with patches where it had become worn through to the floorboards below. Small indentations marked out where furniture and a bed had once sat. The cottage was devoid of nearly anything remotely resembling furniture except for two sofas downstairs. French had said he was happy to sleep on one of them in a sleeping bag. Sian wasn’t so sure. God knows what was in them.
She unscrewed the metal tripod and steadied it on the floor where she knelt. She then took the heavy digital camera and attached its 600mm telephoto lens.
The small screen at the back of the camera burst into life, showing farm buildings out of focus. Twisting the focus, Sian sharpened up the image and watched for a moment as a group of small children ran around the yard, chasing each other and laughing.
For a moment, Sian wondered what she would have been like as a mother. She and Ruth had talked about adoption when they lived together. However, Sian didn’t know what to think about her and Ruth. Was she being selfish by asking Ruth to forget about Sarah and to move on with her life? Did she believe Ruth the previous evening when she finally admitted that
Sarah was almost certainly dead? She knew that Ruth had an overwhelming need to find out what had happened to Sarah. Was it likely that she had managed to somehow come to peace that either Sarah was dead or, if she was alive, not someone worth thinking about? Part of Sian’s mind wanted so desperately to believe Ruth. To trust her and for them to have a life together. But the other part reminded her of the lying and deceit. Ruth would never rest until she knew what had happened to Sarah, and that was that.
‘Hope it’s not too strong,’ said a voice which startled her. It was French carrying two mugs of tea.
‘Jesus, Dan. You made me jump, you twat!’ Sian said with a smile.
‘Sorry. There you go.’ French handed her one of the mugs. ‘Wonder why no one’s ever done this place up? The views are amazing from here.’
Sian turned to him. ‘Don’t you know?’
French shrugged as she sipped her tea. ‘Know what?’
‘What happened in this cottage,’ Sian said with a serious expression.
‘Fuck off. I’m not falling for that, Hockney,’ French said, sitting down on a window ledge with his tea.
There were a few seconds while Sian watched French – He’s dying to know what I was going to say. I can see it.
‘I thought Drake would have mentioned it. Seriously, I’m not bullshitting. But if you don’t want to know,’ Sian said with a nonchalant shrug.
French looked up from his tea. ‘You’re going to tell me the cottage is haunted or some bollocks like that, aren’t you?’
‘Dan, if you don’t want to know, that’s fine. And it’s probably best that you don’t,’ she said, maintaining her serious expression.
‘Go on then, tell me,’ French said with a sigh.
‘No, no. If you’re happy in your blissful ignorance that’s fine by me.’
‘Jesus, Sian. We’re stuck in this house watching a bloody farm morning, noon and night. Tell me what happened!’
‘A little girl was murdered here back in the 1930s. Elizabeth something. Her Uncle did it. He was caught and hanged in Mold. The reason that no one has ever settled here since then is because they say that her ghost haunts this cottage,’ Sian said.
Glancing over at French, Sian could see that she had finally suckered him in. Nice one. Let the games commence.
Sian shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t worry. Ghosts don’t exist, do they? You’d have to be a moron to believe they’re real, wouldn’t you?’
He’s such a mug. I can’t wait for him to go to sleep tonight.
‘Oh thanks, Sian. Lovely story,’ French said, unable to hide his slight irritation. He got up and went over to the camera. Squatting down, he looked through the lens. Something from his body language showed Sian that he had seen something.
‘Shit!’ he said.
‘What is it?’
‘We’ve got visitors.’ French continued to look.
‘What?’ Sian wondered if French was now trying to play a joke on her.
‘I’m serious. There’s a man and woman with a child heading this way. They’re carrying a couple of bags,’ French said as he turned to look at her.
‘Nice try, Dan,’ Sian chortled.
I’m not falling for that one.
‘Seriously. I’m not joking. Just look out of the window.’ This time his expression was convincing.
Going to the window, Sian slowly moved her head to look out so as not to be seen. And just as French had described, a man, woman and child were walking up the long track towards the cottage.
Shit! Who the hell are they?
‘Bloody hell. What do they want?’ Sian asked quietly.
‘God knows,’ French replied. ‘But they must have come down from the farm.’
‘No one knows we’re here,’ Sian said, watching them getting closer.
So much for a covert surveillance operation!
‘They do now,’ French said dryly.
‘We’d better go and see what they want,’ Sian said as she headed for the door. ‘And hide that bloody camera!’
Sian made her way downstairs. No one in Llancastell CID was going to be impressed that they had been spotted within an hour of arriving. She composed herself and went to open the door.
The man, woman and child were now only twenty yards away. The man and child wore clothes that seemed a little too formal and old-fashioned for 2020. As they got closer, Sian could see how striking the woman was. Silver hair, feline eyes and symmetrical bone structure.
Sian smiled as they arrived at the door. ‘Hi there. I saw you coming up the path.’
‘Yes. I hope we’re not intruding but we saw that we had new neighbours moving in, so we thought we’d come and welcome you to our little piece of Snowdonia,’ the woman said. Her voice was deep and a little smoky.
She must be Rachel Ryan.
‘Now then, this is my son Abel. My friend Simon. And I’m Rachel,’ she said, putting out her hand.
Sian smiled. ‘Nice to meet you all’. As she shook Rachel’s hand, she felt something rough in its palm.
The circular scar?
As Rachel took her hand back, Sian saw the dark round scar on her palm, confirming her suspicions.
‘My name’s Sian. And my husband is Dan. I would ask you in but the place is a total mess,’ Sian explained.
‘Yes. It doesn’t look like you’ve brought very much with you,’ Rachel said.
‘Oh no. We’ve only just bought the property. We’ve just come to measure up, that kind of thing. We’re literally camping out,’ Sian said with a fake laugh.
‘Oh right. Abel has put together a bag of things for you,’ Rachel said gesturing to the bag. ‘We have bees, so there’s some of our honey. And we make chutney and jam. Some of our fresh apple juice and bread.’
Abel reached out to hand the bag to Sian.
‘Oh thank you Abel. That’s very kind of you,’ Sian said.
‘It’s Abel’s birthday today, isn’t it?’ Rachel said and Abel nodded.
‘Well happy birthday, Abel. How old are you today?’ Sian asked with a smile.
‘I’m nine years old, miss,’ Abel said.
Oh my God! He is sooooo cute.
‘Fantastic. I hope you have a lovely birthday,’ Sian said.
Rachel looked directly at Sian. ‘Actually, Abel is having a party at five o’clock. Why don’t you and your husband wander up to join us? You could have some cake and meet everyone up on the farm.’
Oh God. How am I going to get out of this?
‘I’m not sure. I ...’ Sian said, struggling to think of an excuse.
‘Abel, you’d like our new neighbours to come to your party, wouldn’t you?’ Rachel said.
Abel nodded and looked directly at Sian with a smile that made her heart melt. ‘Yes please. Then you can see the cake that my mummy made.’
Are you kidding me?
‘Okay. Great. We’ll pop up later. And thank you so much for the warm welcome and the bag of goodies,’ Sian said with a smile, although she was dying inside.
‘Look forward to meeting your husband too,’ Simon said with a smile and a nod.
Rachel went to go and then turned back. ‘Simon and I were debating. I said a property like this would have set you back about £100,000. Simon thought it was closer to £200,000. I’m not asking how much you did pay for it, but I wonder which of us was closer?’ Rachel asked.
Shit! Shit! I have absolutely no idea about property prices.
‘You know what? My husband did all the final negotiations,’ Sian said.
‘Oh okay. No problem. Maybe he can tell us later then?’ Rachel said with a smile that completely unnerved Sian.
‘Yes, of course. I’ll see you later,’ Sian said with forced cheeriness as she watched them turn and walk back down the pathway. She shut the door and let out an audible sigh.
What the hell just happened? My face hurts from all that fake smiling.
CHAPTER 15
Nick and Ruth knocked on the front door and stood back. They had tr
acked down an address for Ketha Langley’s father in Llancastell. The house was small and looked like it needed some work. The brickwork was chipped and the paint flaked to reveal the original wood below.
Darren Langley opened the door and squinted as they flashed their warrant cards and explained why they were there. As Nick went in, he could tell that Langley had been drinking. As an alcoholic in recovery, he had a nose that seemed to be able to sense the merest molecule of alcohol in the air. There were more than a few molecules in the air by the time Langley had shown them into the living room. The air stank of booze.
Bloody hell. It smells like a pub in here!
Langley sank down into the worn burgundy armchair, reached for a can of Special Brew, and had a long swig. Nick had never known anyone but alcoholics to drink Special Brew. At 9% ABV, it was closer to wine than it was to even the strongest of palatable lagers. In his worst days of drinking, he would only resort to Special Brew when he was desperate. It tasted like burnt treacle and made him gag.
‘You want to talk about our Ketha, do you?’ Langley slurred.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Ruth said, in a gentle tone. ‘I’m so sorry that we don’t have any news about her whereabouts.’
Langley nodded and took another sip. Nick didn’t judge him. If your teenage daughter vanishes into thin air and you have no idea what’s happened to her, how are you meant to cope? How are you meant to deal with the idea that she has probably come to harm but with no certainty of where she is. Nick knew that Ruth had been experiencing this kind of trauma for the past seven years. He didn’t know how she kept it together sometimes.
‘I’ve been through all this quite a few times,’ Langley said.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Langley. We’re investigating the death of a boy a few days ago. We think that there might be some kind of connection with Ketha, so anything you can help us with would be great,’ Ruth said with an empathetic smile.
‘Aye, no problem. I don’t want some other bugger to go through what we’ve been through in the past year and a half,’ Langley said, as he reached over the table and took a tobacco pouch and cigarette papers. ‘She was released on bail at the end of June. That was in 2018. A friend of hers picked her up outside the courtroom before we had a chance to talk. And that was the last we saw of her.’
The Solace Farm Killings: A Snowdonia Murder Mystery (A DI Ruth Hunter Crime Thriller Book 7) Page 9