Blood Lost

by Anna-Marie Morgan

  “And we no longer have Earl Casey in custody?”

  She shook her head. “Brecon had to let him go. They didn’t have enough to hold him. Neither Pete Simm nor Ashley Brennan would own up to Casey being at Simm’s flat. They found no drugs on him and there was nothing else to justify a charge. Lloyd Owen is on bail for criminal damage and trespass. That’s about it.” She put her head in her hands. “I’m seeing Max later today. I’ve got to tell him we are no closer to finding his family.”

  “Has your surveillance of Ashley Brennan yielded anything?”

  “Not yet, he’s been lying low. The minute he goes anywhere, however, we’ll be on it.”

  “Keep me informed.” His eyes communicated his support. “You’ll get there. You always do and you’re doing a great job.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Get yourself some rest.”

  She felt better already. He knew how to relax her. She appreciated it.

  25

  The wanderer returns

  “You’re back.” Yvonne spied Tasha’s suitcase in the hall, as she closed the front door. The garlic-filled aroma of something fabulous hit her full-on.

  Tasha appeared in an apron, spatula in hand. “Sure am. Hope that’s okay. I’ll be heading back to the cottage in a few days. I thought I’d visit you first and see how you are. Find out if you still need help.” She nodded towards the DI. “You’re moving better, aren't you?”

  “Practice makes perfect.” Yvonne smiled. “Whatever you’re cooking, I’m a wanting. I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

  “Come on through, I’ll pass you a glass of red. I’m cooking chilli and I’m just about to add the kidney beans and lime.”

  Yvonne felt lighter than she had in days, The comfort of friends. “How was London?” She asked, after a grateful gulp of merlot.

  “Busy-mad.”

  “Did they catch him?”

  “Who?”

  “Did the Met catch their killer?”

  “No, not yet. I’ve given them a profile and will be at the end of the phone or computer, if they need me. The good news is, while I am making myself available, I’m getting paid. The downside, is I’m on call twenty-four-seven until he’s caught. His favourite attack time is in the small hours when he gains access to people’s homes. They had thought he killed as an add-on to his burglaries. They have now accepted that killing his main motive. It’s the burglary that’s secondary. The added extra.”

  Yvonne shuddered. “Nice.”

  “Yeah.” Tasha stirred the simmering pan and tasted, before bringing in black pepper. “It’s almost ready.”

  Yvonne grinned. “Thank you, for this, Tasha. I can’t wait.”

  “So, what’s happening with your case? Where’s it at?” Tasha asked as they tucked into her food, seated at the kitchen island.

  Yvonne shook her head. “It’s all over the place. A muddled pit. We have a long list of suspects, limited forensics, and a multitude of potential motives. Still no sign of the family, either dead or alive.”

  “Need any help?”

  “You’ve got enough on your plate, Tasha. Your friendship and this food have lifted my spirits. I’m better already.”

  26

  Stakeout

  Dai Clayton took the last drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out and blowing the smoke above his head. He drew in a fresh lungful of the chill air. Coughing as the cold filled his chest, he climbed back into the driver’s seat.

  Callum was enjoying a coffee from the flask he had brought with him. “Want one?” he asked.

  Dai shook his head. “No thanks. Any more of those sausage rolls though?”

  “Afraid not, mate. You had the last one about an hour ago.”

  “Oh.” Dai leaned back in his seat, arms folded, a frown creasing his face.

  “There's still nothing happening over there.” Callum gulped a mouthful of coffee.

  “What’s he doing in there?”

  “Ooh, let's see... PlayStation? Sleeping? Shooting up? Take your pick.”

  “How long till lunch?”

  Callum checked his watch. “It’s eleven-thirty.”

  “Wait, a minute.” Dai grabbed his SLR and pointed it towards the alleyway and at the carpark to the front of Ashley Brennan’s house. “A black Audi is pulling up two doors down.”

  “Earl Casey?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering. The glare on the windscreen is making it difficult to tell. Hang on, Ashley’s coming out.”

  Callum sat upright, peering through the windscreen at the tiny figures and wishing he had the benefit of his colleague’s zoom camera.

  “He’s going up to the Audi and talking through the window. Someone is getting out of the back. Dreadlocks. Looks like Paul Solomon. Oh, he’s just punched him. Ash has gone down. Did you see that?”

  “Was it a punch to the head?”

  “Ashley’s getting back up.” Dai snapped several photographs.

  “Let’s go.” Callum grabbed the door handle.

  “No.” Dai held his arm. “We can’t.”

  “He assaulted him.”

  “We can’t blow our cover. If Ashley reports it, we can provide the evidence. We still need to tail Ash. It’s not about Casey, it’s about the Harries’s. I’ve got the evidence, we can pick up Casey another time.”

  “What’s happening, now?”

  “Ashley’s rubbing his jaw. The car’s leaving. He’s run back inside.”

  “Did they trade anything?”

  “I can't be sure. It was difficult to see when they were close.”

  “I wonder what Casey wants?”

  “Good question. I’ll speak with Yvonne. We should probably let Brecon know.”

  ❖

  Will sat on a roundabout in the play park, waiting until the sun disappeared behind the moors. He kept his hood up for warmth and anonymity, his eyes following every car coming into the estate, in case it was the dreaded black Audi or the police.

  He hadn’t eaten or slept. Eyes were everywhere. He could feel them on the back of head. The voices, becoming louder.

  As the light faded, he left the roundabout and headed across the road towards the alley and into the housing estate. He was glad of the darkness. He didn’t want the skip owner coming after him again, or worse, telephoning the police. Though the air was cold, sweat soaked the back of his shirt. He wondered how he had ended up in this mess.

  Keeping his head down, he passed a couple walking a terrier, anxious they might hear his heart thumping as it belted the blood in his chest.

  They skirted around him. Like he was something to fear. That should have bothered him. He didn’t care. The skip loomed in the distance, near the row of houses. The lights were on, but not every house had its curtains closed. The lump in his throat made it difficult to swallow.

  The moon was a sliver, but the streetlight, ten feet from the skip, gave just enough light to save him from needing a torch which might garner suspicion.

  His heart still belting, he peered over the side of the skip, into the filthy mess within. More rubbish had covered the carpet in which he had stashed Scarface’s packages. He rolled himself over the side and into the filth.

  Landing amongst the unwanted mess, he held his breath, listening for shouts, or footsteps. Not until satisfied no-one was coming, did he move and then, only to delve his arm into the inside the carpet roll.

  He couldn’t find the packages. He reached, his pawing becoming frantic. They had slipped further inside the roll. When the tips of his fingers brushed against the paper and tape, he clawed at them, stabbing at them with his fingertips, until he’d moved them enough to grab hold and pull. He tucked them one-by-one under his hoodie, pausing again to listen, holding his breath, before rolling back out of the skip and running back up the alley.

  ❖

  They were waiting for him, in the Audi with its engine running, faces staring at his home. Ash didn’t want to go out there, but if he didn’t, they’d be knocking on his door.
He wanted that even less. That would be so much worse. They wouldn’t hurt him as bad, in public.

  “Where is he? Where’s our stuff?” Scarface growled through the half-open window.

  “I don’t know.” Ash paled to the colour of his namesake.

  “Don’t piss about. Where is he?”

  Brennan could feel himself shaking. It made him want to pee. “Who?”

  A door swung open. Dreads got out. He grabbed Ash by the clothing at the base of his neck. “Give us your phone.”

  “What phone?”

  “That phone.” Dreads forced the rectangular protrusion out of Ash’s front jeans pocket. “Now, fuck off.” He hit Ash to the side of the head, knocking him into the garden fence. “If we don’t find him, we’re coming back for you.”

  Dreads climbed back into the car before it screeched out of the car park.

  27

  Hiding places

  Will paid the taxi driver and pulled the keys from his pocket. He approached the house like a ninja, listening for his parents’ voices.

  Hearing them, he straightened himself and pulled in his stomach muscles, rendering the package under his hoodie less obvious.

  He turned the key in the lock.

  “What about there?” His mum asked his dad as she held a frame up to the wall in the hallway. “Hello, love.” She called to Will.

  “Yeah, looks fine.” His dad cocked his head.

  “Hi.” Will hoped it sounded casual enough as he took a right off the hall into the lounge, the only room accessible without having to walk past his parents.

  He dove straight to the back of the couch, where he knew a storage chest to be, beneath the bay window.

  Blood whistling in his ears, he undid the leather and buckle straps, and pushed the packages underneath a tablecloth and cushion covers, before fastening the chest back up and heading for the door.

  “What do you want for tea, love?”

  Will jumped. “I don’t know, Mum.”

  She tucked stray hair back behind her ears, looking relaxed. Happy, even. “You’ve got to eat something.”

  Will shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. “Egg and chips?”

  “Is that all?” She wrinkled her nose.

  “I’m not that hungry.” He cleared his throat and walked over to her, throwing his arms around her and hugging her tight. The air left his body like a sigh.

  “Wow, what’s prompted this?” she asked, smiling.

  “I love you, mum.”

  ❖

  Dewi dropped Yvonne off outside Ashley Brennan’s home, parking the car in the square where he could watch the front room window, seat belt off, ready to move at a moment’s notice.

  Yvonne set her face against the biting wind, her lips pressed tight together. Her instinct told her that whatever happened to the Harries family, happened with Ashley Brennan’s knowledge. Earl Casey wanted something from Brennan. She believed that something was Will Harries’s whereabouts.

  Her cane aiding her balance, she made her way along the uneven pavers. The grass on either side had missed a cut or two, during the summer, and was littered with plastic bottles, crisp packets, and disparate bicycle and car parts.

  Ducking under the empty washing line, stretched across the path, she reached the back of a breeze block shed, the roof of which connected to the front of the house by an overhang, creating a basic porch.

  She knocked on the door, avoiding the broken pane of frosted-glass to the right.

  Someone inside was in two minds over whether to answer, approaching then stepping back.

  “Ash? Ash Brennan? It’s DI Giles. I’d like to talk to you. It won’t take too long. Can I come in? It’s important.” She held her breath, head tilted, listening for his response, praying he would answer.

  “What do you want?”

  “To talk, Ashley. It’s about your friend, Will. I only want to speak to you about him.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Please, Ashley, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Your friend’s life could depend on it.”

  He walked forward; she saw his hands through the glass as he reached to undo the catch.

  When it opened, the body in front of her appeared pale and dehydrated, looking like he hadn’t long got out of bed. Feet bare, his t-shirt, half-tucked into his jeans, his fair hair needing a good comb.

  “I’ve got to go soon.” He licked the sweat from his top lip. “I’ve got to collect my methadone from town.”

  “No problem. My car is just over there.” She pointed towards the square. “If you like, we can give you a lift.”

  On seeing his hesitation, she added, “It’s an unmarked car.”

  He nodded. “All right.”

  There was a moment’s awkward silence.

  Ashley eyed her cane. “Want a seat?” He moved a PlayStation hand control and a plastic bag, to make room, on a well-worn sofa in muddy-blue.

  “Thank you.”

  Ashley drew up a plastic chair, and the DI cast her eyes around the diminutive, open-plan sitting room and kitchen area. His sofa faced the cooker and kitchen cupboards with wonky doors.

  The middle of the room was empty, save for the dirty, marble-effect vinyl flooring which looked as though it had been there since they built the houses, in the seventies, and on which Ashley had strewn his meagre belongings. It wasn't much. She felt for him.

  “Thank you for seeing me, Ashley. I came to talk about Will. I think you know where he is.”

  Ashley shook his head, avoiding eye contact. “I haven’t seen him.”

  “So, if I were to go through your phone, I wouldn’t find messages to him?”

  Ashley’s face reddened, creasing up in a pained expression. “I…” He took a deep breath.

  “What is it?” Yvonne kept her voice soft, she tilted her head to better see his eyes.

  “I don’t have my phone.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Someone stole it.” Mucous clogged his throat. He hawked it back.

  “Who stole it?”

  Ashley shrugged. “I didn't see who it was.”

  The flickering of his eyes and the sheen on his brow told the DI that he was very well aware.

  “Don’t worry. I already know who stole your phone, Ashley.”

  His eyes widened as though he was trying to work out if she was telling him the truth.

  “Earl Casey took it, didn’t he? He came here with his gang and they took your phone. Why did they do that, Ash?”

  He stood up. “I have to go. If I don’t pick up my prescription soon, I won’t be able to get it at all.”

  The DI eased herself up, to stand within two feet of him. “Why did they want your phone? Is it because of something you had on in it? A name?”

  He moved away from her.

  “Ashley, I believe Will is in danger. I don’t know what he's involved in, but I think you helped him disappear. Did he steal from the gang? Did he take their money?”

  “No.” Ashley shook his head. “Will isn’t like that.”

  “What then? He must have something they want?”

  “Drugs. He had some of their stash and lost it. It was their own fault. They forced Will to take it. He didn’t want to. They made him do it. He tried to look after it, tried to keep it hidden. It all went tits-up when his dad found out about it.”

  “What about your phone? If you’ve been contacting him and Earl Casey has the messages, Will’s in a lot of trouble.”

  Ashley balled his hands into fists. “A raw, grating sound came from his throat. It’s a mess, and it keeps getting worse.”

  “Where is he, Ashley? Tell me where he is.”

  Ashley’s face screwed up, as though he was about to cry. When he spoke, the words tumbled over each other. "He’s hiding with friends of mine. Traveller friends. They’ve been looking out for him. He’s okay."

  “What about his parents? Where are they? Are they all right, too?”

  “His mum’s fine. Stres
sed and worried, but she’s all right. She’s looking out for Will.”

  “What about Will’s dad?”

  “Someone hurt him. His head’s bandaged up. The travellers are taking care of him, too.”

  “Where are they, Ash? Where are your traveller friends?”

  He stared through the window, mouth hanging open. Sweat formed large beads on his forehead.

  “Ashley? If Earl Casey and his gang get to them first, God only knows what they will do. If we can get to them before the gang does, and get Casey picked up, we can sort this whole mess out, and nobody gets hurt. Please, Ash.”

  “They’re in a mobile homes in a field, next to Devil’s bridge.”

  “Is that up near the coast?”

  “Yeah.” Ashley hung his head.

  “Right. Let’s get you to the car. I will phone this through to my colleagues so they can shoot over there and get Will and his family to safety. I can drop you at the pharmacy, and myself and my sergeant will go up there, too. We’ll speak to you again, when we get back, we will need to take your statement.”

  She led him to the car park. Ashley climbed into the back of the Astra.

  “Dewi, we’re dropping Ashley in town. Will and his family are at Devil’s Bridge. We’ve got to organise the rescue mission.”

  “Station?”

  Yvonne nodded. “As soon as we drop him off.”

  While they drove, she put a call through to the DCI to let him know they would be needing armed backup, and fired off instructions to Callum to ready the team’s gear.

  Dewi put his foot down.

  28

  Blood loss

  Will had slept little. It was as though the stash was calling from the trunk, screaming through the house for someone to find it. How was he going to act normally at breakfast?

  His mum called up the stairs, letting him and his father know the food was ready, as though they could not smell it for themselves. It made him retch, the fear that was knotting every organ in his body. The same fear, which had soaked his bedsheets and made his hands clumsy and ineffective. The fear that gnawed at him. Eyes were everywhere.