by M K Farrar
“No, it’s fine. I understand how traumatic this must be for you. Take your time, and if you need a break at any point, just say so.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“What’s your relationship to the Wyndham family?”
“Just friends, but close friends. Our kids have grown up together.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I have no idea how I’m going to break this news to my two. They’re going to be heartbroken. They’ve gone from living in a world they’ve always seen as being safe to knowing something so...abhorrent can happen to innocent people.” She gulped back another sob.
Ryan felt for her but needed to get her back on track.
“When was the last time you saw Liz Wyndham?”
She wiped her eyes. “At school on Friday. Because Dulcie hasn’t been at the school for very long, Liz picks her up.”
“Dulcie is eleven,” he said. “She just started secondary school?”
“Yes, that’s right, but Sheldon had only just finished. We met when the boys started primary school. We’ve all been friends ever since.” Fresh tears filled her eyes.
“I’m sorry, I realise how hard this must be for you.”
“I just can’t believe someone would do this to them. They were a lovely family. How could someone hurt them like that?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out.” He checked the notes he’d written in his favourite stationery—an A5 Whitelines notebook. He had multiple duplicates of the notebooks in his drawer out of fear the manufacturer would stop producing them and then he’d be completely thrown. He always used a black Paper Mate InkJoy gel pen, too, and kept multiples of the exact same pen.
Alison suddenly straightened. “Oh God, have you told Conrad yet? He’s going to be devastated.”
Ryan frowned. He hadn’t come across the name before. “Who is Conrad?”
Her eyes widened. “Conrad Smales is Sheldon’s father. Hugh wasn’t his real dad. He and Liz split up when Sheldon was only about three or four, I think. It was definitely before he started school, anyway. Liz met Hugh not long after, and they had Dulcie, that’s why there’s the big difference in age.”
That was a vital piece of information they had missed. “We checked the surnames for each of the children and they were all under Wyndham?”
“Sheldon took his stepfather’s name,” she explained. “I don’t think he wanted to feel as though he was different to the rest of the family, and Hugh had been in his life since he was only small.”
Ryan wrote the name down. “That makes sense. I don’t suppose you have any contact details for him?”
“No, I’m sorry, I don’t, though I think he still lives in Bristol. We were friendly enough when the kids were small, but after he and Liz separated, I didn’t really see that much of him. He had his son on the weekends like he was supposed to, but he didn’t socialise with us after that.”
“Not even with your husband?”
She shrugged. “You know what men can be like.” She gave a small, tight laugh. “I mean, you are one. They never made the effort to see one another. My husband would want to go to the pub at the weekend, but then Conrad had Sheldon during those times, so things weren’t as convenient as before.”
This was information that couldn’t wait until the end of the interview.
“Would you excuse me a moment, Mrs Perry?”
“Of course.”
Ryan stepped out of the interview room and took out his mobile. He swiped the screen to bring up Mallory’s name.
“Hey, I’m just outside,” she said. “How’s it going?”
“I need you to track down a Conrad Smales. I believe he lives locally.”
“Who is he?”
“Sheldon Wyndham’s real father.”
“Shit. The teenager wasn’t Hugh Wyndham’s biological child then? How did we miss that?”
“Sheldon took the Wyndham name.” Maybe Sheldon had always felt like an outsider in the family and so had taken on the name to feel like he was a part of things. Perhaps it hadn’t worked? Was that enough of a motive to want his family dead? A broken home? Perhaps resentment towards the stepfather and the mother for bringing a new man into their lives. Maybe hatred towards his half-sister for being the biological child of both parents? People had killed for less.
Ryan continued. “Check for any criminal history, particularly looking at any violence, possibly towards the son. Then I need you to track him down and then break the news to him about the death of his son and his ex-wife. You also need to bring him in for questioning and find out where he was last night.”
“You think he might be a suspect?”
“Until it’s proven otherwise, everyone is a suspect.” He thought of something. “Hey, are you okay to work this late? I know time is getting on.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve got my parents to come and stay over with Ollie. They understand it’s a big case and I’m needed here.”
“Will they be all right with him?”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. They can always call me if they need me.”
Ollie had been suffering with night terrors since an accident at home, and Ryan had witnessed the effect it had been having on Mallory. They were used to not getting a huge amount of sleep in their job role, but with Ollie waking her almost nightly because of his bad dreams, the lack of sleep had been taking its toll on her.
“Okay. Let me know if anything comes up in his history and if you manage to track Smales down.”
“Will do.”
He ended the call and went back to the interview room. “Sorry about that.”
Mrs Perry gave a small smile. “No, it’s fine. He has a right to know.”
Ryan took his seat once more. “Did Liz ever mention problems between her and her ex?”
“Just the usual stuff when people separate, complaints about him not doing enough or paying enough towards his son. I think things got easier after she’d met Hugh, and he picked up some of the slack.”
“But there was no violence or anything like that?”
“No, not that I’m aware of.”
Ryan jotted it down and then folded his hands on the table. “What about the relationship between Sheldon and his biological dad? How did they get on?”
“I don’t think there was much of one recently, to be honest. Maybe they texted each other occasionally, but they didn’t see much of each other. Conrad made the effort when Sheldon was younger, but Sheldon grew up, and I don’t think he particularly wanted to spend much time hanging out with his dad.”
“What about his stepdad? Did Sheldon get on with Hugh?”
She shrugged. “They fell out, of course. I mean, what parent doesn’t fall out with a teenager from time to time. They like to push boundaries, don’t they?”
“What did you make of Sheldon in general? I know teenagers can be difficult. How did he come across?”
“He was a sixteen-year-old boy. He could be moody, but can’t they all at that age?”
“We noticed his room was full of heavy metal posters and horror films. Slasher flicks. Did he ever make you think that he was into things like that?”
“No more than any other teenage boy. My son’s room looks exactly the same.” Her eyes widened. “If you’re thinking that Sheldon killed his family, let me tell you now that he wouldn’t have done that. He just wouldn’t, especially not to his sister.”
“They weren’t full siblings, though, were they? They had different dads?”
“Biologically, no, but they were as good as full siblings. They grew up together. I don’t think he’d ever have hurt her or his mum.”
He wasn’t about to tell her that Sheldon had been the last one to be killed and that there was a chance he had his family’s blood all over him. It was a convenient scapegoat for someone to make it look like an emo teen from a broken home had decided to take his anger and sadness out on his family, but then there was the alarm that hadn’t been disabled and that there was no sign of a break-in to ta
ke into account.
She stared at him intently. “Really, whatever you’re thinking about Sheldon, please stop it and focus on finding the real killer.”
“We’re just keeping our minds open to all possibilities, Mrs Perry. What about the relationship between Liz and Hugh? How did they get on?”
“Fine, as far as I’m aware. They’re just a normal married couple. They had their disagreements, but nothing serious.”
“Do you know if there were any issues like debt, or affairs, or alcohol or drug use? Maybe gambling problems?”
She jerked back, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “God, no. They weren’t that kind of couple at all. I mean, they had a drink at the weekend and probably had a credit card or two, but certainly nothing that someone would murder the whole family over, if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Again, just covering all bases.” He glanced down at his notes. “I noticed there was an alarm system on the house. Do you know who might have access to the codes?”
“No one I can think of. I don’t even have them. I assume the kids must have known it to get in and out of the house when they weren’t home, but that’s all.”
“Do you think Sheldon might have given someone else the alarm codes?”
“It’s certainly possible. You know what teenagers are like—they’re not the most reliable of creatures. But he would have had it drummed into him that it needed to be kept a secret. Liz was quite paranoid about making sure it was set every time she went out and that no one saw her doing it.”
He sat up, remembering that Sergeant Frome had mentioned that Liz Wyndham had put in a police report claiming that someone had been watching the house. “You describe her as being paranoid. Is that normal for her?”
She frowned as she thought. “Maybe a little, but I think she got worse recently. She was always worrying about strange things like a white van she didn’t recognise being parked on the road or thinking one of the neighbours was spying on her. She didn’t even want to have a home phone line because she said people could call it and if she didn’t answer then they’d know she was out.”
“Did something happen in particular that started the behaviour?”
She ran her hand over her face, appearing exhausted from the emotion and all the questions. Ryan felt bad that he was putting her through this after she’d just lost her friend, but it was important they know as much as possible.
“I...I’m really not sure. I just always took it as being who she was, but then this terrible thing has happened to her and her family.” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Do you think she was right to be paranoid? Do you think she somehow knew this was going to happen to her?”
“Honestly, it’s still really early in the investigation so that’s impossible for me to answer. At this point, we simply need to explore all the options. This white van you mentioned, did Liz ever describe it to you, or maybe mention if she saw who was driving or if there were any passengers?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, she just said a white van. I didn’t ask for any more details.”
“Is there anyone else she might have spoken to about her fears? Another friend, maybe?”
“Possibly, though I think I was always the person she was closest to. Her husband knew about it, but he used to get a bit irritated with the whole thing. I think he only agreed to the alarm system to try and keep her happy. Not that it did them much good.” She suddenly thought of something and clapped both hands to her mouth. “Oh God, did you tell her mother yet? She lives up north and she’s on her own. This is going to absolutely devastate her.”
“I’ve got local officers in her area to go to her house to inform her about what’s happened. Do you think she would have confided in her at all?”
“I doubt it. She wouldn’t have wanted to worry her. She lives alone and she’s so far away, it’s not as though she could have done anything to help anyway. Losing her daughter and her grandchildren in such a horrific way is going to destroy her. How can anyone go on with their lives after a loss like that.” Tears were streaming down her face now, and the piece of tissue was in tatters.
“You’d be surprised at what people can handle when they have to,” he said, hoping it would bring her some comfort.
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I hope you’re right. I just can’t imagine never getting to see them again.”
Ryan hoped he was right, too. He’d been in the position of having to deal with more than he thought his heart could ever handle. He might have survived it, but he hadn’t been the same person since.
Chapter Six
It didn’t take long for Mallory to find Mr Conrad Smales on the system. The unusual name helped her narrow it down, as did the Bristol address. He didn’t have any kind of criminal record. With a little more digging, she brought up a mobile phone number attached to a social media profile and learned that he worked for a local haulage company.
She tried the mobile number first, but it went straight to answerphone. She gave it five minutes, in case he was on another call, and tried again. Still, the automatic answerphone cut in. It wasn’t that she planned on giving him the terrible news about his son and ex-wife over the phone, but since he worked for a haulage company, she assumed there was a good chance he wouldn’t be home.
When she didn’t get any luck via the phone, she drove to his address. The flat was the ground one in a converted Victorian terrace, much like the one his ex-wife had owned, except hers had been the whole property.
She rang the bell and then knocked on the door.
No answer came, and she didn’t get any impression of there being life on the other side of the door.
“Mr Smales?” she called out. “Police. I need to speak to you.”
It was evening now, and most of the neighbours were home. She caught a woman in her fifties peeping out at her and motioned for to open the window.
“Can I help you?”
“Have you seen the man who lives here recently?” Mallory asked.
“No, sorry,” she said and shut the window again.
Mallory sighed.
Still there was no answer. He must be out on a job. She hoped he wasn’t going to hear the news from another source. No one should hear that their loved ones had died in such a horrific manner from a newspaper or social media post.
Unless, of course, there was another reason why she was unable to get hold of him and he’d made himself scarce because he knew of the family’s death. Maybe he even had something to do with it.
Her next port of call would be the haulage company he worked for which was located in Cabot Park. She hoped they’d be able to tell her where Conrad Smales was right now.
Before she got back in the car, Mallory checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a call from her brother. Their parents were with him now, which eased her mind some, but she still worried. He’d woken up at three a.m. shouting, and she’d known he’d had his reoccurring dream about the fire. Something that might have only affected her a little had left a long-lasting mark on her brother’s emotional well-being. He refused to use a toaster now, and was even nervous of the microwave, which meant they were down to him only being able to prepare himself cold sandwiches or cereal when he was home alone. She tried to convince herself that sandwiches and cereal were perfectly fine meals, but it hurt her heart that Ollie had gone backwards in his independence when he’d been doing so well.
Mallory was thirty-one now, and though she never would have admitted it out loud to anyone, a part of her was starting to wonder if she’d ever have a normal life of her own. Would she ever meet someone who would be willing to take Ollie on as well? She knew it would be a big ask, but she and Ollie came as a package deal, and she would never choose someone else over her brother. Despite knowing that, there was a tiny part that felt saddened by the idea, and maybe just the tiniest bit resentful. She wasn’t a perfect person—she was just doing her best—but she hoped she didn’t turn into a bitter old hag over it one day.<
br />
She drove the twenty minutes across the city to Cabot Park. At least at this time, the traffic was light, and she did the journey with ease. She assumed there would be someone still on the premises. Haulage companies worked twenty-four-seven.
Mallory pulled the car up outside. Several large trucks were parked on the forecourt, but there was no sign of any people. She climbed out and hugged her jacket tighter around her body. It was starting to get cold at night now. The air held the distinct salty, and slightly fishy tang of the estuary which was just on the other side of the industrial estate.
The office building was a grey single-storey portacabin. A yellow light glowed from behind the window, so she assumed someone was still working, though the office door was closed. She approached the building and tried to peer through the window, but the view was blocked by a set of dirty blinds. A number of dead flies balanced precariously on the slats.
Mallory stopped at the door and knocked. She was surprised when a deep male voice called out to her.
“Yeah?”
She tried the handle and cracked open the door, then reached to her pocket for her ID.
A man in his forties with a furrowed forehead and a pot belly that pressed into the edge of the desk he sat before deepened those furrows with a frown. “Help you?”
“I hope so. My name is DS Lawson, and I’m trying to track down one of your employees, Conrad Smales.”
“What do you want with Conrad?”
“Police business, I’m afraid. He’s not in trouble or anything, but I do need to find him. I assume he works here then?”
“Yes, has done for years. He’s not working right now, though.”
“When was his last shift?”
“He did a run yesterday and had today off.”
“Where was his run to?”
The man frowned. “Hang on, let me check.” He rifled through what appeared to be a logbook and then announced, “Newcastle.”
“What time did he get back?” Mallory asked.