The Solace Farm Killings: A Snowdonia Murder Mystery (A DI Ruth Hunter Crime Thriller Book 7)

by Simon McCleave

  Just as the helicopter straightened, Ruth noticed something unusual in a field close to the farm. A long line of shapes in the grass. However, they had gone past too quickly for her to see properly. Her instinct told her that she needed another look.

  Ruth tapped the pilot on the shoulder. ‘Can we go back to that field for another look?’

  The pilot nodded and manoeuvred the helicopter around and into a steep bank. The SAS and TFU officer gave a quizzical look.

  ‘I’ve seen something. Just bear with me,’ she shouted into her headset over the thunderous noise of the engines. She hoped she wasn’t wasting their time.

  The helicopter slowed over the field where Ruth had asked it to return to. She gazed down intently.

  ‘This okay, ma’am?’ the pilot asked.

  ‘Can we go a bit lower?’ Ruth yelled back.

  The field had a series of freshly dug rectangular shapes in a line. She counted them. There were fourteen.

  As the helicopter descended, she could see that each of the shapes was topped by something. They looked like wooden crosses but it was hard to see from this distance.

  Oh my God, they’re graves, she thought. The realisation suddenly chilled her.

  She knew her instinct had been right. They were all looking down over a small graveyard of fourteen recently dug graves, and it was within walking distance of Solace Farm. Ruth knew that there must be a connection between the two locations.

  Was this the final resting place of Ketha Langley, Ho Yin Cheung, and Becca Johnstone? What had happened? Had they attempted to leave Solace Farm and been prevented? Is that why Callum Roper had been shot and chased to his death a few days ago?

  Ruth turned to the TFU officer. ‘Can you take some photos of that?’

  The officer nodded grimly as he pointed his camera down at the field.

  CHAPTER 30

  Sian had spent the past fifteen minutes hiding in an old shed which had been converted into a car repair shop. Crouching down behind an old Audi Quattro, she peered out across the farm and the yard. She could feel her pulse thudding like a drum in her neck.

  The activity on the farm was heightened as several groups of armed men from The Family scoured outbuildings and barns. She presumed they were looking for her. The farm wasn’t that big - it wouldn’t be long before they came to where she was hiding.

  Sian had been aware of the noise of a helicopter circling over the farm. As she crawled to a wall where mechanics’ tools were hung in neat rows, she put her eye to a long gap in the shed wall. The wood smelled damp, and she felt the cold air from outside against her face.

  From here she could look out across the fields and up at the sky.

  She caught a glimpse of the helicopter hovering over a nearby field.

  What are they looking at? What the hell is in that field?

  As the large black helicopter turned sideways, she could see that it had no official markings. No police identity code or badge.

  Special Forces, she presumed. She felt her stomach tighten with nerves. This is not a good sign.

  That meant one thing. They were gearing up for a raid on the farm. The helicopter would have been used for pre-raid reconnaissance. Once they got back to base, they would use photos for an operational briefing. Sian calculated that within two hours Solace Farm would be under some kind of raid from Special Forces, probably the SAS, the Tactical Firearms Unit, and members of North Wales CID. It didn’t make for a pretty picture in her head.

  What about Abel? she thought. He’s going to get caught in the middle of all that.

  Everyone was aware that there were children on the site. Everything would be done to ensure their safety. However, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be innocent casualties. Rachel had proved that she had no problem shooting at Sian in front of Abel. That didn’t bode well once armed officers were on the farm.

  Sian knew that getting Rachel out of action was still the key. Without her leadership, Sian was fairly certain that the other members of The Family wouldn’t stand and fight alone. They relied on Rachel’s guidance.

  Therefore, if Sian could somehow nullify Rachel, the potential for innocent lives to be lost would be reduced.

  She was suddenly aware of approaching voices.

  ‘I don’t understand. She’s here on the farm somewhere. Look again,’ a voice snapped.

  It was Rachel Ryan.

  Sian crawled back across the shed floor, put her face to another gap in the wall, and looked out. Rachel was standing there with two armed men. They turned, and headed straight for the shed where Sian was hiding.

  Scampering across the dirty, oil-stained floor, Sian reached the Audi Quattro. Using her arms and legs, she wriggled herself under it so that she was completely hidden.

  Holding her breath, she watched as she saw boots and barrels of guns come past. And then they stopped.

  RUTH GLANCED DOWN AT her watch. Only ten minutes before the start of the operation to secure Solace Farm, end the siege, and rescue Sian. Maps on the wall were being scrutinised, and the photos that had been taken from the helicopter were now projected onto the temporary incident room wall.

  Ruth couldn’t help but wonder how the operation was going to end. Is it ironic if I pray for Sian to get off the farm safely?

  Nick, sensing Ruth’s feelings as usual, put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, boss. We’ll get Sian out of there okay.’

  ‘Thank you ... you’ve got enough to worry about at the moment.’ It was nice to hear his reassuring words.

  As Nick went to talk to French, Ruth’s attention was drawn to the television set. Drake had given a short press conference outside to the amassed television news crews and journalists. It was now playing on the BBC News 24 channel. Even under this pressure, Drake managed to look calm and collected on camera.

  That’s what makes him a great DCI, she thought.

  Ruth watched as Drake looked out at the assembled journalists, an assorted range of microphones positioned below him to pick up his words.

  ‘Good morning. I am Detective Chief Inspector Drake of the North Wales Police force. I am here to update you on developments in the ongoing situation at Solace Farm this morning. The welfare of those inside Solace Farm continues to be our prime concern and, as many of you know, there are a considerable number of young children at the site. Any action that we take to bring a close to the situation that has developed here in the past few hours will prioritise the safety of those children. I can also confirm the press speculation that one of our officers has been taken hostage. However, we remain committed to finding a peaceful solution for the release of our officer, and the arrest of those we wish to question in relation to a series of criminal charges. I’m afraid that is all I am going to say at this time and there will be no questions.’

  Ruth watched as the news programme cut back to the studio for a reaction to Drake’s press conference.

  Nick arrived by her shoulder and looked up at the screen as she turned to him. ‘What he failed to say was that the woman in charge of the cult is a deluded murdering maniac, and we’re sending in the SAS to take her out and anyone else that gets in our way,’ Ruth said dryly.

  ‘I need you to come and see this, boss,’ Nick said with a serious expression on his face.

  She followed him out of the incident room and across the hallway to where more officers were sitting in an old dining room. Large fold-out wooden tables had been assembled.

  ‘What is it?’ Ruth asked. She knew by his tone that Nick had seen something significant.

  French looked up from the laptop he was working on.

  ‘Dan and I were looking at the photos that were taken from the helicopter - and then we saw this.’

  French moved a chair for Ruth to sit down beside him. She peered at the screen which showed an aerial photo of the main farm buildings.

  ‘What the bloody hell am I meant to be looking at, boys?’ she asked.

  French pointed at something on the ground but R
uth’s eyesight was poor and she was always losing her glasses. She was none the wiser.

  ‘Yeah, there’s no way I can see that,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Can you make it bigger, I’m getting old.’

  French zoomed in on the photo. It was now clear that a figure was standing outside a row of small sheds that were set apart from the main farm buildings. Dotted beside the sheds were a couple of old cars.

  Peering closely at the figure, she suddenly gasped in recognition. ‘Jesus Christ! That’s Sian!’

  ‘That’s what we thought. We just wanted a second opinion, boss,’ French said.

  ‘It doesn’t look like she’s being held hostage anymore, does it?’ Ruth said. ‘She must have escaped.’

  CHAPTER 31

  Having waited nervously under the car until the men left, Sian was amazed that she hadn’t been discovered.

  Thank God. Whichever God that might be now.

  Ducking out of the shed, she checked both ways. The coast was clear. Now to find Rachel and prevent her from burning down the farm, and everyone in it.

  Doubling back to where Rachel had shot at her about twenty minutes earlier, Sian saw that she was now gone. And so were the large jerry cans. As the wind swirled, Sian could still smell the thick stench of petrol in the air. Rachel must have moved on to somewhere else. Looking at the series of wooden sheds and barns that made up most of the outbuildings at Solace Farm she realised that, once lit, the place would go up like a tinder box. The only stone building was the main farmhouse. Even the more recent constructions, such as the corridors that linked the barns, were made of wood.

  Jesus! This is a disaster waiting to happen.

  Creeping low across the right hand side of the farm site, Sian glanced in windows in her search for Rachel.

  Nothing yet. Where the bloody hell is she?

  She quickly glanced up at the sky. Although the helicopter had gone, it wouldn’t be long before the farm would be awash with CS gas, Special Forces, and armed police officers. The thought of that, combined with Rachel’s plans for a holy inferno, terrified her. She couldn’t see how there wouldn’t be major casualties.

  She swapped the shotgun from her right to left arm. It was getting heavy and she was tired. Still glancing into the buildings along the way, she continued to move rapidly around the farm.

  I’m running out of time.

  Then suddenly she saw movement inside one of the buildings, but the figure had gone as quickly as it had appeared. Was that her?

  Racing over, she crouched down beneath a window. Rising slowly, she peered inside cautiously. It was some kind of classroom, maybe where the children of the farm were home-schooled.

  Then she saw Rachel pass an open doorway across the room. It was clearly her - and she was carrying a jerry can full of petrol.

  Come on, Sian. Time to get that bitch!

  She swapped the shotgun back to her dominant right arm, and scurried along the side of the building searching for a doorway in. Nothing.

  She turned left at the top. Twenty yards up was an open door that led inside. Sian moved swiftly along trying not to make any noise. Then she took a breath. Pulling the gun up, she grasped the barrel with her left hand. The metal was smooth and cold.

  Inching towards the door, she listened intently. Where was Rachel now? Was she armed? Was Sian going to shoot her? She had to stop her somehow.

  With her back to the wooden wall of the barn, she closed her eyes for a second. This was it.

  Go!

  She swung around and pointed the shotgun inside.

  About twenty yards away down the corridor a figure stood with her back to her.

  ‘Put your hands up and come this way, or I will shoot you!’ Sian yelled – and she meant it.

  Rachel turned around slowly. For a few seconds she looked at Sian with no emotion on her face, then smiled as she raised her clenched hands.

  ‘I knew you’d find me. You can’t escape the destiny that’s been created for you, Sian. Today is the day you get to meet your saviour. And yet you have no idea.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever. Spare me all the bullshit and come this way or I swear I’m going to shoot you in the legs and drag you out of here,’ Sian bellowed with adrenaline-fuelled anger. She took two paces towards Rachel and gripped the shotgun tight.

  The smell of petrol fumes was overwhelming for a moment and she felt her eyes water. She could see the walls and floor of the corridor were drenched with the fuel.

  Rachel nodded. ‘I can see you mean it. Where are we going?’

  Then Sian saw a glint from one of Rachel’s raised hands. Something small and metallic. She recognised it - a Zippo cigarette lighter. Its lid was already open. Sian gazed in horror when a spark was followed by a flickering orange flame.

  Shit!

  Rachel released her grip and, as if in slow motion, the lighter fell through the air.

  NO!

  It bounced as it hit the floor, and there seemed to be a second where nothing happened.

  Then ... WHOOSH!

  The corridor was instantly consumed by a swirling ball of orange flame which swept towards Sian.

  The force of the explosion knocked her backwards.

  Turning away from the blast, she was flung out of the barn and onto the ground.

  After a few seconds she sat up, trying to get her breath back. Her face felt sore and her eyelashes had been singed.

  Staring back into the firestorm that had engulfed the barn, no one could have survived that explosion.

  Rachel Ryan is dead.

  CHAPTER 32

  Crouching close to the entrance of Solace Farm, Ruth could already hear the very sporadic cracks of gunfire. Two helicopters thundered overhead. The SAS and Tactical Firearms Unit had entered the farm five minutes earlier to try and secure the site with the least force necessary. If Ruth was honest, she had only heard a handful of gunshots rather than the mayhem that she had feared. Maybe the members of The Family had come to their senses when faced with the terrifying sight of SAS officers sweeping through their buildings.

  I’m not surprised. The appearance of SAS officers scares me - and they’re on my side.

  Ruth turned and looked at Nick who was crouched by her side. ‘Sounds pretty quiet to me.’

  Nick shrugged. ‘CS gas and masked Special Forces. I’d surrender myself pretty sharpish.’

  Then she saw him looking up at the sky and frowning.

  ‘However, that’s definitely not CS gas,’ he said, gesturing upwards.

  Ruth glanced up to where he was looking and saw a growing plume of thick black smoke swirling up into the blue winter sky above the farm.

  ‘Shit! There’s a fire somewhere,’ Ruth cried out.

  Nick stood up to get a better look at the farm buildings. ‘Boss, they’re burning the bloody place down!’

  ‘Christ! Come on!’

  Ruth and Nick made their way warily through the main entrance and into the yard.

  ‘We need to get everyone out of here,’ Nick said, ‘and we need to find Sian.’

  Ruth could see the full extent of the smoke which was now starting to dominate and darken the sky above them.

  This is not good! What if Rachel Ryan has decided that a mass suicide is the only way to bring about the Second Coming? And where the hell is Sian?

  Without warning, an officer from the Tactical Firearms Unit came around the corner of a building. He was leading two adults, presumably Family members who had surrendered without the use of force. Their faces were blackened and they were coughing heavily in an effort to expel the soot and smoke which now lined their lungs.

  Ruth approached quickly.

  ‘The fire started over at the back, ma’am. The place is going up in flames.’ The officer shook his head. ‘I’m going back to see if I can get more out.’

  Ruth looked over at Nick as they headed towards the main farmhouse which was seemingly untouched by the fire. ‘Why hasn’t Sian made herself known to anyone yet?’


  ‘Maybe she’s helping to get people out?’ Nick replied.

  Suddenly the air seemed to rip apart with noise and flames. The windows along the front of the farmhouse exploded in an eruption of fire and glass.

  Diving to the ground, Ruth landed heavily on her side.

  For a moment, everything seemed to be silent. An eerie darkness, as if all the light had been drained from the sky.

  Then Ruth’s hearing began to return.

  The air was hot and thick.

  Drawing in breath, all she could smell was dust and petrol fumes.

  And then a strange sense of rain as bits of stone from the farmhouse fell noisily all around.

  Ruth choked for a moment and looked at Nick. His face was blackened. He said something but there was still ringing in her ears.

  Then she looked at the farmhouse in a daze - it was now engulfed in a blazing, flaring cauldron of fire.

  Christ, this really is Armageddon, she thought.

  SHIELDING HER FACE from the heat, Sian tried to make her way through the burning shell of the barn. The thick acrid smoke was everywhere – in her eyes, mouth, nose and the back of her throat.

  Jesus! I don’t know how long I can keep this up!

  Finding and rescuing the children was now paramount in her thoughts. With continuing glances outside, she had seen a handful of the adults from the farm – but no children. Where were they? She assumed that they were all together somewhere, but the fire was spreading so fast that she knew they were running out of time to get everyone out safely.

  Turning a corner into a corridor, Sian found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. It was only a foot from her face.

  Shit! Don’t shoot me! Please don’t shoot me.

  As she processed the Heckler & Koch machine gun, and the black breathing mask and clothing, Sian realised he was an SAS officer.

  ‘I’m a police officer, don’t shoot!’ she yelled.

  ‘You need to get outside,’ the officer shouted over the sound of the fire.