Blood Lost

by Anna-Marie Morgan

  Evans nodded, “Everybody was aware.”

  A knock interrupted them.

  Dewi opened the door and received a piece of paper from the constable. He read it before handing it to the DI.

  Yvonne flicked her eyes over it and placed it down on the table in front of Clive and the solicitor. “Mr Evans, your fingerprints match partial prints we found on the living room door in Michael Harries’s home.”

  Clive nodded. “If they hadn't matched, it would have surprised me. I’ve been to his home occasionally. The last time being two months ago. I went for dinner with my partner, Sarah.”

  “We may seek to verify that with your partner.” Yvonne pursed her lips. “Can anyone else confirm you had dinner there?”

  “You can ask the boys at the factory. We were on the shop floor when he invited me. I told you, I’ve had dinner there a few times, over the years.”

  “How did the family seem to you, when you had dinner? What were their interactions like that evening?”

  “On the surface, fine, but…”

  “But?”

  “Well, I got the feeling they were trying too hard, like they were papering over the cracks, so to speak. There was an undercurrent.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, to give you an example, at one point, Kate dropped a serving spoon. Mike bent down to get it, but Kate snatched it away from his grasp too quick, like. She saw me looking and laughed it off, but I got the impression they had argued earlier in the evening, before we’d arrived.”

  “Did you know Kate well?”

  “Not like I knew Mike. I mean, the things I knew about their lives, I’d learned from him. My conversations with Kate were cordial, but not deep.”

  “I see.”

  “Am I in trouble? I mean, about not telling you the truth about the argument with Mike?”

  “You tried to mislead us, Mr Evans. Three people are missing, one of whom is nursing an injury of unknown severity. We could prosecute you for wasting our time.”

  “I feel bad about the whole thing.” Clive placed his head in his hands. “I expected Mike to be back by now.”

  Dewi leaned towards him. “Are you sure you didn’t go there, that Sunday morning, to persuade Michael to go with the deal you’d negotiated with Lebensraum? He resisted, you argued again, and the situation got out of hand. You panicked-”

  “My client has told you what happened,” Clive’s solicitor gave Dewi a stern look. “He doesn’t have to answer that.”

  “No.” Clive held a hand up to his solicitor. “I’ll answer.” He looked Dewi in the eye. “That’s not what happened. Anyway, even if I had hurt Mike, what about the rest of the family? How could I make them all disappear? I am many things, sergeant. I am not a magician.” Clive sat back, palms on the table. His body sagged in the chair.

  As they made their way back to CID, Yvonne shook her head. “I’m still not convinced we are getting the whole truth from that man. He’s probably changed his tune more than often than he’s changed his underwear. However, he’s right. On his own, he couldn't make the whole family disappear that easily and I don’t think the deal with Germany was enough motive to even try. There has to be more to this.”

  “I agree, ma’am.” Dewi opened the door for her. “He’s bailed, for now. We’ll keep an eye on him.”

  21

  Nothing is ever simple

  Kate checked her rearview mirror. The car behind flashed its headlights at her several times, coming up on her rear bumper. She slowed down, pulling to the left, giving the other driver space to get past.

  To her surprise, the car did not overtake. It alternated between staying back and pulling right up to her bumper.

  The muscles in her abdomen knotted. “What the hell?” She called out, honking her horn to let the driver know she wasn’t happy.

  As he came up again, she realised who it was. Heart thumping, she checked her side mirror and sped up. She had another twelve miles to go before she arrived in Llanfyllin. Would he harass her all the way?

  They continued in this vein for a further five miles. Sweat pooled in the small of her back, the hairs raised on the back of her neck, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “What are you doing?”

  He had overtaken on a tight bend. Heart still racing, she braked just as he disappeared around the corner.

  She let out the breath she’d been holding, hand flying to her chest. She had only just avoided a collision.

  As Kate rounded the corner, there he was, stopped in the road. She slammed on her brakes, stopping just a few feet from where he was. Forgetting fear, she got out to remonstrate with him.

  When he, too, climbed out of his vehicle, the blood rushed to her cheeks. “What are you doing? What the hell do you think you are doing? You could have killed us both. Are you mad?”

  Shayne Steadman looked at her as though he was a child, surprised at the effect his naughty behaviour had had. "I wanted to talk to you." He held his arms out.

  “What?”

  “I want to talk.”

  The fear was back. She ran to her car, pulling the door open, and climbed in. Her fingers fumbling the seatbelt in her haste to get from there.

  He banged on the window. “Mrs Harries. Kate.”

  He continued banging as she fired up the engine and threw the gearstick into reverse.

  It didn’t catch. “Come on. Come on!”

  Her forehead covered in perspiration, she found her gear.

  He pulled on the door which flew open as she drove backwards.

  He fell into the road.

  She didn’t wait to find out if the fall had injured him, but drove on, heart thudding against her sternum. Not stopping until she got to Llanfyllin, Kate decided she would cut off all communication with Steadman. Someone else could show him around properties he had no intention of buying. She was done.

  ❖

  Yvonne kicked off her shoes, seating herself at her kitchen island with a glass of chardonnay and a supermarket lasagne warming in the microwave. Even that small task took more energy than she could spare, so tired was she.

  Perhaps, the DCI was right. Maybe, she had gone back to work too early.

  She missed Tasha’s sage advice. Her friend was in London for the week, helping the Met with a difficult case. The house felt empty.

  When the microwave dinged, she relinquished her seat and retrieved the lasagne. She ate from the plastic carton. Having lost a stone, since coming out of hospital, she was under orders from Tasha to eat, while the psychologist was away.

  She forced herself to down each forkful, preoccupied with the missing family.

  She replayed the Harries’s breakfast in her head. What had happened that morning? A knock at the door? A family row? Had Clive Evans been right about the strained relationship? It might fit with what Shayne Steadman had said about Kate seeming unhappy. Why did Kate’s work colleagues not notice anything? Were they not looking? Did Michael lose it with his wife or son? Was there a fight? Had Michael driven them somewhere? Or, Will? Maybe, Kate?

  The phone cut through her daydream. She put down her fork and glass, to answer it.

  “Yvonne?” Karen’s familiar voice gladdened her heart.

  “Hi. I meant to call you-”

  “I guessed you were busy.” Karen chuckled. “I know what you’re like. How are you? Moving any better?”

  “Improving all the time, thank you, sis. How are you? How are my gorgeous nephew and niece?”

  “They are little buggers, as usual.” Karen laughed. “They’ve chalked all over my furniture and got pen all up my living room wall.”

  Yvonne laughed, throwing her head back, picturing their wicked smiles as they drew stick men in places they shouldn’t. “Face it, Karen, you wouldn’t like it any other way.”

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t.” Karen tutted. “Took me ages to settle them to sleep. I swear, if I see another Kipper book…”

  Yvonne grinned. “They’re only little once.”
/>
  “Anyway, Inspector Clueso, what are your plans for Christmas?”

  “Christmas? Is it that time already?”

  “Won’t be long, now. Five weeks will fly by.”

  “You could come here?” Yvonne looked about her. Her home was a bit dog-eared. She wrinkled her nose.

  “I was thinking of you coming to us, actually.” Karen coughed. “Sorry, I don’t imagine cooking is that easy for you at the moment and, besides, the children want Christmas bedtime Kipper stories.”

  Yvonne laughed. “And you’re sick of Kipper stories. Sold. I would love to come to yours for Christmas and I’ll read as many stories as they want.”

  “Thank you, sis. Thank you for saving me.”

  22

  Hodley

  Michael fired up his black pickup and began the descent down his driveway. The air had a distinct chill. Perhaps, Summer was now on the wane.

  He pressed the brake when he saw his family’s recycle bins up-ended, their contents strewn across the drive, just before it turned into the lane.

  His language turned the air blue. He killed the engine, getting out to replace the items in the bins. He looked up as he finished clearing the mess. There, standing in his field, staring at him over the hedge, was Lloyd Owen.

  “You did this, did you?” Michael glared at him. “Make you happy, does it, causing so much disruption?”

  The farmer didn’t answer, but continued watching him over the hedge.

  “You know I can report you for this. I’ll get CCTV on this drive. They’ll put you away.”

  Lloyd continued staring. He didn’t answer back.

  Michael could feel the blood going to his head. The knuckles of his hands glowed white against the plastic buckets he was holding.

  He heard a voice he recognised, further along the lane. Will. He could see him in the distance. The lad he was with had clocked Michael and legged it.

  Will turned and spotted his dad.

  “Will. William, stop right there.” Michael ran towards his son. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in school.”

  Will shrugged.

  “What are you doing with that Ashley lad? I thought we’d agreed you would stay away from him? Wait, a minute.” Michael gripped his son’s shoulders, looking him in the eyes. “You using again?”

  “No.” Will shook his father’s hands off his shoulders.

  “Because if you are…”

  "I’m not." Will glared at him.

  “What are you doing with him, then?” Michael flicked his head in the direction in which Ashley Brennan had disappeared. “And, why aren’t you in school?”

  “I wasn’t well.”

  “You’ll get worse if you don’t get yourself back to school, right now.”

  Will looked at his father’s truck. “Any chance of a lift?”

  “Get in. Don’t let me catch you out of school again.”

  Will pouted. “I wasn’t right. Mum would understand.”

  Michael rolled his eyes as he began the drive through the lane. “Your mother is much too soft with you. You’ve got her wrapped around your little finger and running around after you for every little thing. It’s about time you took responsibility for yourself.”

  “At least, all I do is ask her for help. I don’t order her around like you do.”

  Michael put his foot on the brake, throwing them both forward. “What are you talking about?” He turned to his son.

  Will folded his arms, looking into the footwell.

  “Well?”

  “It’s always your way or the highway. Mum’s not happy, can’t you see that?”

  Michael stared at him, a frown furrowing his forehead. “Did she tell you that?”

  “No, she didn’t. She didn’t need to. It’s obvious. You haven’t noticed because you’re too busy shouting all the time.”

  Michael chewed his lip. “I've felt stressed.” He faced forward again, both hands on the steering wheel. It was several seconds before he continued driving. “I love her and I love you. I'm just struggling with everything at the moment. The business, home, our bloody neighbour. You’ll understand how difficult it can be when you’re older. You'll have a zillion things to worry about. Look, I’ll speak to your mum. We’ll sort it out. I promise.”

  ❖

  Dewi plopped a fresh mug of tea down next to his DI as she scribbled on a piece of scrap paper. “You doodling, ma’am?” He grinned.

  “I'm scribbling my thoughts, Dewi. Trying to make sense of this boiling pot of mess. There’s so much going on. Things get more murky and less clear as we go along. I’m sure it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

  “That’s life for you. Chaotic. Most of us are barely holding onto the reigns.”

  “That’s deep for nine o'clock.” Yvonne poked him in the ribs.

  “Yeah well, you know.”

  “The family did not plan their disappearance. Everything we know supports that fact. They took no money and left their phones behind. Their bank accounts remain untouched and, according to Clive Evans, no monies disappeared from the company account.”

  “So, if they ran away, they did it at short notice.”

  “Right. It’s an avenue we must explore. If they ran, why? The most obvious answer to that would be County Lines.”

  Dewi nodded. “If Will cosied up with drug gangs, he may have fallen foul.”

  “But how? What did he do? When they raided, the operations team from Brecon found nothing. The gang had already fled. They found Will toddling down the road.”

  “Are you thinking they got wind of the raid ahead of time?”

  “I am. Do you remember the kid they found hanging about in the bushes near the station, in the small hours, a few months back?”

  “Yeah. They let him go with a warning. I think he was only around fourteen.”

  “Right. It’s just possible the gangs are paying youngsters to watch the stations. If they spot major activity, they warn them of a possible raid. The gangs clear up and get out of whichever houses they happen to be cuckooing.

  “Sounds workable.”

  "Say the gang used Will to get them into Pete Simm’s house. Someone tipped them off about the raid. They cleared up and got out within minutes, but panicked about police catching them with leftover drugs or large sums of money. They got rid of them in a hurry."

  “Gave either drugs, money or both to Will. Told him to hide them. He headed in one direction, they went another.”

  “Right.”

  “But uniform arrested Will a small amount of cannabis.”

  “Perhaps he’d stowed the rest elsewhere, ready to retrieve later-”

  “And it wasn’t there when he returned?”

  “Could be. He panics and tells his parents. Michael loses it. They fight. They run, expecting the gang to turn up any minute. Perhaps, Will had already received threats.”

  “I can’t see Michael Harries running. He would surely call us?”

  “I agree. But, if he’s incapacitated, Will may have persuaded his mother of the need to go into hiding.”

  “If they are hiding from Earl Casey, we should look at keeping him here for as long as we can.”

  “No evidence. We need something, fast. If you were hiding out, Dewi, where would you go?”

  “Friends?” Dewi shrugged.

  Yvonne narrowed her eyes. “Put a tail on Ashley Brennan. Find out where he goes, who he sees and if he withdraws money. The family have nothing. If they are in hiding, someone is supplying them. Let's find out who that is.”

  “Are we still surveilling Clive Evans?”

  “We must. This investigation is wide open. Let’s apply pressure to Ashley. See if he cracks. If he has a bank account, get a warrant to access statements. I’d be interested to find out if he’s purchased any pay-as-you-go phones lately, amongst other things.”

  “Right you are, ma’am.”

  ❖

  Callum raced up the stairs. “Ma’am, they’ve
picked up Lloyd Owen. They caught him causing damage to the Harries’s people carrier.”

  “What?”

  “He’s in the cells, ma’am.”

  “Get me the details and tell custody I’d like to have a word with him.”

  “Will do.”

  Lloyd scowled at her as she entered the cell. Arms folded, he gave an air of intended non-cooperation.

  Yvonne sighed. “What are you doing here, Lloyd? What have you been up to?”

  He huffed. “Well, if you don’t know, what the hell I’m doing here, why am I here?”

  She tilted her head. “Fair enough, why did you find it necessary to scrape the sides the Harries’s family car? What had it done to you?”

  Lloyd tutted, staring at the wall opposite.

  “What did you use? A screwdriver? Keys? What?”

  “What makes you say it was me?”

  “Someone saw you.”

  “Who?”

  “Us. We’ve had CCTV monitoring that house since the family disappeared, in case they pop back at any point. If you like, I can show you the footage we obtained.”

  “You’ve got me all ways, haven’t you? There’s no such thing as justice any more. People take my land and I’m supposed to grin and bear it.”

  “Is that why you did it? You’re still upset about the land?”

  “I know what they’re up to…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The family disappearing like that. They wanted to make it look bad for me. They go off on a jolly and you spend your time investigating me. Making my life hell.”

  “Mr Owen, we are looking at many people. But by doing what you are doing, you bring unwanted attention to yourself. Look at this.” She held up a sheet of paper. “These are all the incidents logged by Michael Harries, over the months before they went missing. He had enough to bring another case of harassment against you. And now, you’ve just added to that list. We will prosecute you for criminal damage and trespass. Why do you let your anger get the better of you? People will irritate you in life. You can spend your time feeling bitter, or you can chalk it up to experience and move on.”