Blood Lost

by Anna-Marie Morgan

  “You took a knife to your ex-partner and cut up her clothes.”

  "I did. That was wrong, but I swear I never laid a finger on my ex-partner. I have never hurt a woman. I lost my temper. Probation taught me about the psychological effects which violent behaviour can have on the victim. I realised that I act first and think later. I’m trying to be better."

  “Have you had anything to do with the Harries’s since you stopped frequenting Carter and Sons?”

  Steadman shook his head. “No, I haven’t.”

  "Are you responsible for their disappearance?"

  "No."

  "Interview suspended, two-fifteen pm."

  “He says he had nothing to do with it.” Yvonne scratched her head, replaying the interview in her mind. “I’m inclined to believe him.”

  “You may be right, but he’s just confirmed a solid connection with the missing woman. I’ve asked for a DNA sample, which he agreed to. They'll swab him before he leaves the station. The duty solicitor will be present for that.” Chris Llewellyn puffed out his chest.

  Yvonne nodded. “Don’t worry, he’s not completely off my suspect list.”

  14

  Pods

  Callum came to find her. “Ma’am, we’ve contacted the pod company in Germany. Name of…” He checked his notes. “Lebensraum. A contract signed by Michael Harries, gave the go-ahead for the purchase of their blueprints.”

  “So, he went ahead with it, even though his business partner was dead against it?”

  “Looks like it. But, here’s the thing, he dated and sent the letter on Monday, the day after the family disappeared.”

  “Did I hear you right?”

  “You did. They’re emailing copies through to us, now.”

  “Was it an electronic signature?”

  “Signed, scanned and attached to an email.”

  “So, either Michael has engineered the whole disappearance thing, or-”

  “Clive Evans wasn’t telling us the truth.”

  “Evans was adamant, Michael Harries was not in work on Monday. So, if Harries sent it, he had to have been somewhere else.”

  “Exactly.”

  “This just gets more and more murky.”

  “You can say again.”

  “Callum, I want you to invite Clive Evans in for a formal interview. Tell him, he may wish to have a solicitor present.”

  “Will do, ma’am.”

  ❖

  “So, you confirmed Michael couldn’t have signed the paperwork beforehand?” Yvonne grabbed an A4 notepad, tucking it under her arm.

  “We have, ma’am. The German company confirmed, they sent the paperwork through to Evans and Harries that morning. They signed and sent it back the same day. The firm confirmed Michael Harries’s and Clive Evans’s signatures were both present.”

  "Well done, Dewi. We’ve got him. Let’s see him wriggle out of this one. It’s about time he told us the truth."

  “His solicitor has arrived and they are waiting for us in the interview room.” Dewi straightened his tie.

  “Right, can you caution him? I’ve got a few ideas to scribble down before I join you. Make sure it’s recorded.”

  “Will do.”

  “DI Giles has just entered the room,” Dewi announced, as she took her seat next to him.

  “Good afternoon, Mr Evans. Can I remind you, you are still under caution?” She nodded at the solicitor. “Mr Hughes.”

  “How long will this take?” Clive shifted in his seat. There was a tremor to his voice.

  The DI watched him shiver. “How long it takes depends on you.”

  “It’s just, we’ve got a lot on, right now.”

  “I understand.” She rubbed her chin. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Clive swallowed.

  “We’ve had confirmation from Klinsmann, CEO of Lebensraum, that he sent the contract paperwork to your office on November six, the day Mr Harries and his family went missing. You told us he wasn't in work that day.”

  He cleared his throat, leaning forward, eyes on the table.

  “The paperwork contained both yours and Michael's signatures. I’d like to know how that happened and I was hoping you might enlighten me?”

  Clive grimaced. “I see how this appears…”

  “Oh? How's that?”

  “I had no idea why Michael wasn’t in work, but I worried that if I didn’t get that paperwork off, we’d lose the deal. I waited as long as I could. Michael wasn't answering his phone, and I didn’t know where he was. So, I signed the paperwork and sent it off.”

  “You forged Michael’s signature?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes, but he wanted the deal and, if he’d been there, he would have signed the paperwork, himself. I thought he would show up at some point, and I'd tell him it was a done deal.”

  “Where did you think he would be?”

  He shrugged. “I was clueless. He’d had problems with his son, Will, from time-to-time and it occurred to me that something might have kicked off there. I assumed he’d be back once he’d sorted it all out. Many reasons ran through my mind. Maybe, Will had overdosed, and they'd taken him to hospital. It had to be something serious. Michael is rarely out of the office. Last time he was, Will had overdosed.”

  “Mr Evans, when I spoke to you, you stated that you'd been against the deal with the German company and that you argued with Michael about it. You said he was the one who wanted to purchase their blueprints.”

  “That’s right.”

  “You stated, you thought the risk to company funds and company jobs was a risk too far.”

  Clive nodded. “I know.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “I thought about it. Michael understands pods. His thinking is sound. I am cautious, by nature, but it’s the risk-takers in business who make the big strides. If a venture is easy, there’s no money in it because every man and his dog is doing it. I decided that, perhaps, Michael was right and we should take the plunge. If successful, it would make us the biggest pod supplier in the UK.”

  Yvonne pursed her lips.

  He sighed. “Look, I had one day. One day, to decide. As the deadline approached, I felt more and more pressured. I tried phoning Michael again, but he still wasn’t answering and there was no reply to my texts. So, I signed the contract and sent it, believing he would approve it and we’d be able to sort it all out, later.”

  “Is it usual to agree such an important contract that way?”

  “Look, we’d already been over there and met the company. They are coming here next week. They needed that paperwork signed, so they could sort their finances. The signatures were a formality.”

  “And yet, you argued with Michael over it.”

  "I was waking up nights covered in sweat, terrified it might go wrong. The pods might not sell in enough numbers, or we'd have too many orders and not be able to fulfil them." Clive sighed. "It's worse now that Michael has done a runner."

  “Is that what you suspect has happened?”

  “I'm not a clairvoyant, am I?” Clive shook his head. “I don't have a crystal ball. Perhaps, Michael hid his true self from all of us. He’s the last person I'd suspect would do something like this. But you don’t always know people.”

  “Perhaps, it was Michael applying the brakes, and you argued with him because you wanted the deal? Things got out of hand. You got rid of him so you might go ahead with it.”

  “That is not fair.” Clive’s solicitor raised his hand.

  “It’s fine.” Clive leaned in towards the DI. “At first, I argued against the deal. I changed my mind, later. I can’t make you accept my version of events, but that’s how it happened.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this, last time I talked to you?”

  He blew air through his teeth. “I didn’t want you to arrest me, given how suspicious it would seem, and I still expected Michael to walk through the door at any moment.”

  “What do you feel,
now?”

  “Now, I can't eat or sleep. Something bad has happened, but goodness knows what that something is.”

  “Interview suspended, three-fifteen pm.”

  15

  Nebulous

  Ashley Brennan sat, pale and gaunt, in the interview room, with an air of fragility, Dewi suspected of being put on. They’d clashed before. He'd experienced Ash's ability to put up a fight, first hand. That thin, wiry frame held a surprising strength.

  When Yvonne entered, the lad was staring at his hands, picking the sores on the back of his tattooed left one. She surpassed her gag reflex.

  “Am I under arrest?” Ash frowned.

  Yvonne shook her head, sipping a cup of water. “Not, at the moment. We brought you in here, to ask about your friend, Will Harries.”

  Ash looked. “Will? Have you got him? Is he here?”

  “No, I’m afraid, not.”

  Ash returned to picking the back of his hand.

  “When did you see him, last?”

  “I dunno. A week ago?” He screwed up his face. “It was two weeks ago? I think? I can’t remember. My days are all over the place. Mixed up. I’m rubbish with dates and times.”

  “Okay, where was that?”

  Ash clicked his tongue several times as he thought about it. “I think it was in town. Yeah, it was in town.”

  “Where in town?”

  “Market Street?”

  “You’re not sure?” Yvonne leaned in.

  “I told you, I get things mixed up. I’m not sure where I saw him. Maybe, we were in Bite Size.” His face creased again. “Well, I’m not good with details.”

  Yvonne resisted the temptation to roll her eyes at Ash’s drug-addled memory. “Tell me about Pete Simm.”

  “Who?”

  "They found you at his flat on the estate. Officers carried out a raid and interviewed you about the possibility you’d been selling drugs."

  “They got it wrong. We had nothing on us.” Ashley scowled, pushing his chair back from the table. “I know my rights.”

  “Ashley, I’m not after you over drugs. Even if I were, I would want the big guys. The guys who roped you and Will in, to help them get into Pete’s flat.”

  Ash closed his mouth.

  “Look, I'm aware the drugs squad found nothing. That’s because the gang had a warning system in place and knew they were coming, right?”

  Ash stared at her as though trying to work out if she was guessing. The lines under his eyes darkened and, as though his brain had switched off, his lids drooped. He looked like he was falling asleep until he jerked.

  “What’s Scarface’s real name?”

  “I've no idea who you’re talking about.” A sheen of sweat on his forehead reflected the light.

  The DI sat back in her chair, twiddling her pen on the table. “When did you last meet him?”

  “Who?” Ash’s eyelids closed again.

  “Will.”

  “I told you, about two weeks ago.”

  “Where is he, now?”

  Ash shook his head.

  “Ash, he and his family are missing.”

  His lids were now almost permanently closed. “I don’t know. Can I go now?”

  Yvonne ran a hand through her hair. “You can go. Do me a favour, keep your appointments with Drugs and Alcohol Counselling and Bite Size. Stay away from the gangs.”

  “What? Are you turning into my mother, or something?”

  “You’d better pray that I’m not.”

  ❖

  “What do you make of that?” Dewi puffed his cheeks out.

  Yvonne rubbed her forehead. “He’d taken something on top of his methadone.”

  “We need the identity of Scarface. Brecon drugs squad are tight-lipped about him.”

  “They probably don’t know, themselves, yet. They’re still trying to get their hands on him. I don’t want to mess up their operation, but we’ve got a missing family. If we get a description, we search for him on the database.”

  “Doesn’t seem like we’ll get anywhere with Ash.”

  “I know. Pete Simm might be a different story, however…”

  “Shall we bring him in?”

  “No. At least, not yet. Pete’s vulnerable. Ash sofa-surfs and it’s easier for him to avoid the gang, but Pete? He’s got stable accommodation, and the gang knows where he lives. A little undercover work could prove helpful.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Oh, nothing like that. I’m going to hoodie-and-jeans it over to Bite Size and hang around when Pete Simms is due. If he doesn’t suspect I’m a copper, he might give me something we can work with.”

  “Ma’am, you can’t. The DCI will go nuts.”

  “The DCI will not know. I won’t be doing anything other than a quick conversation. I’ll make Annie aware of my plan and find out when Pete is due. All I want is a description. Anything else will be a bonus.”

  “But, hoodie and jeans?”

  “I can hoodie and jeans,” she pouted. “We’ll make sure I look rough. My limp is not a put-on. That might help.”

  Dewi tilted his head, his eyes narrowed.

  “Ten minutes is all I’ll need.”

  Her DS sighed. “I’ll take Dai with me in the car. We’ll be your backup.”

  “Fine. Make sure you stay well back. I don’t want to make Pete Simm suspicious. And, if anyone is watching him, I don’t want them suspicious, either.”

  “Right you are, ma’am.”

  16

  Undercover

  Having found out when Pete Simm was seeing Annie, Yvonne readied herself to ‘accidentally’ bump into him. She’d found old jeans, frayed at the bottom, with a hole in one knee, covered in spots of paint and a black hoodie, last worn about six years before. It was a tight fit, but she looked the part, having mussed up her hair and placed it in a ponytail to the right side of her head.

  Her make-up, she applied with a shaky hand and the resultant effect was spot on.

  She stood back to purvey the look in her mirror. “Rough. Dead rough.” She said out loud. “That’ll do nicely.”

  ❖

  Yvonne sighed and checked her watch, again. She had agreed with Annie a time she could ‘bump into’ Pete, following his appointment. The session, however, had overrun, and the DI hung around in the sharp, November air. The ache in her hip and back ground her down.

  She entered the building and seated herself on a sofa in the waiting room, where she could watch the shoppers and dog walkers idle by and keep an eye out, in case Ashley Brennan should pop in for an unscheduled visit. It wouldn’t do to have him recognise her.

  Eleven-ten am. He was ten minutes over. She pulled her cane in towards herself, leaning over it, to ease the pressure on her hip and rested her forehead on the backs of her hands where they gripped the handle of the cane.

  Annie’s door opened and a slim young man in thick spectacles exited into the waiting room.

  “I’ll be with you in two minutes,” Annie called to the DI.

  “Thank you.” She gave Pete a lopsided smile. “That was a long one.” She flicked her head towards Annie’s closing door and pulled out a cigarette. “Got a light?”

  “Er, yeah.” Pete checked his pockets and pulled out a lighter.

  “Come on, let’s go outside for a quick ciggy.”

  “You new?” Pete asked, flicking the lighter until the flame caught.

  The drag made her cough, just as she knew it would. “Bloody cough. I’ve had a chest infection,” she brushed it off, feeling like throwing up.

  Pete unlocked the chain on his bicycle.

  “Yeah. Annie’s helping me to get over a rough patch.” That sounded lame. She held her breath as

  Pete straddled his cycle.

  “Is she in a good mood?” The DI approached him, aware that any moment, he could ride off.

  “Yeah.”

  A black Audi rounded the corner.

  Pete stared, round-eyed, as the car drew up alongside him.<
br />
  “Hey, Simm,” a male sporting long dreadlocks called from the back. “How’s it going?”

  "Good, mate," he answered, his voice, hoarse.

  The front-passenger window lowered to half-way. “Who’s this?” A mixed-race male, with a pronounced scar from the corner of his mouth to his ear, gave Pete a hard stare. “Is that your girlfriend? Bit old for you, ain’t she?” He gave Yvonne a dismissive glance. “Bit rough, too.”

  Yvonne bit her lip, busy committing the car’s registration to memory.

  “What you looking at, bitch? This ain’t your business.” He tossed his head, his way of ordering her to leave.

  She did so, reluctantly, walking back inside Bite Size. She could see Pete leaning into the car before it drove off.

  Once it was out of sight, she walked back onto the street. Pete was on his bike, his hands shaking.

  “Boy, they’re scary. What did they want?” She asked as casually as she was able.

  “Nothing.” Pete frowned. “He wanted to know if I’d been talking to police.” He appeared pre-occupied and said nothing further. He cycled away, peddling furiously.

  ❖

  Dewi swung the unmarked car round, getting out to help his DI into the back.

  “I’ve seen him. I’ve seen Scarface. He’s very recognisable.” She reached into the glove compartment for her notebook, getting down the reg whilst it was still in her head. “Get a hold of Brecon drugs squad and make sure they’ve got that reg. Tell them it belongs to the Scarface gang. Ask them to tell me when they haul him in. I don’t know what he said to Pete Simm, but I could see the effect it had on him. The sooner we get Scarface off our streets, the better.”

  17

  Kate

  Kate breathed deep, savouring the sweet scent of grass, mown that morning, mingled with jasmine.

  Perhaps, today would be the day when she found Shayne Steadman the house of his dreams. They bored her, the same conversations, the same difficulties and quirks, that meant Shayne didn’t want this property, or that. There wasn’t a house on their books that could satisfy him.