‘Was there anything worrying Rosie? Or had she seemed different recently?’
‘No. She was just the same ... Nothing seemed to bother her,’ Emma explained.
‘College was okay?’
‘Yeah, she was really smart. The teachers loved her.’
‘Any boyfriends or relationships?’
‘No. A few lads had asked her out, but she said they were immature. She had a bit of a thing for older men ...’
Is that something to look at? Ruth thought.
‘What about home? Was she happy at home?’
Ruth could see the change in Emma’s face as she glanced up at her father. Ruth waited for a moment as her question hung in the air.
Now that’s struck a chord ...
‘Emma? Was Rosie happy at home?’ Ruth asked a little more urgently.
‘No... not always ...’
‘Why not?’ Ruth asked. It was the first hint that something was wrong in Rosie’s life.
‘Her dad’s a prick,’ Emma spat under her breath.
It was uncharacteristic of Emma, from what Ruth had seen so far, and it was said with a degree of emotion.
‘Emma!’ Steven said. ‘You can’t say that.’
‘Well, he is a prick, Dad. You don’t like him. You said he was a wanker the other day.’ Emma was getting angry. Steven looked embarrassed, but what his daughter had said was clearly true.
‘It’s all right. Do you think you could tell me why you don’t like Jason Wright, Emma?’ Ruth asked.
‘He’s just ... nasty. You know? Shouts at Rosie and her mum. He’s horrible,’ Emma said.
Ruth looked over at Steven. ‘Do you have much to do with your neighbours, Mr Haddon?’
‘Sometimes. Kathy, Rosie’s mum, she keeps herself to herself but she seems friendly enough. Jason works for me. He’s my farm manager. Most of the time he’s okay, but he’s got a temper on him,’ Steven explained.
‘Is he ever violent?’ Ruth asked.
Steven shrugged. ‘Not that I know of ...’
‘Yeah, he is. He tried to stop Rosie going out once and dragged her by the arm. She had bruises on her wrist and her shoulder hurt.’
‘Was that the only time he has been violent to Rosie?’ Ruth asked.
‘I think so. She threatened him so she said he had stopped speaking to her for the last few weeks.’
‘Threatened him? What do you mean?’ Ruth asked.
‘She said if he ever touched her again, she would call the police and have him arrested.’
CHAPTER 2
Eighteen hours
The clouds now obscured the sun that had been shining through the window as Ruth finished another coffee. In her gut, she could feel the growing tension of finding Rosie before something horrible happened. And the fact that the clock was running was making everyone tense.
Even though it was summer, the sky was slowly becoming a uniform steel grey. Sitting down in her chair, Ruth arched her back to stretch it. Her thoughts went back to lying in Sian’s arms earlier that morning. Warm and safe.
Ruth had a daughter, Ella, and even though she was now in her early twenties, Ruth remembered how difficult she had been when she was sixteen. Sometimes Ella had been rude, emotional and selfish. Was Jason Wright grabbing his daughter’s wrist a sign of anything else other than frustration? But the portrait that Emma and Steven Haddon had painted of him didn’t sit comfortably with her.
Ruth’s train of thought was broken by Nick knocking at her door.
‘How was Emma Haddon?’ he asked.
‘Worried and upset. But I wouldn’t expect anything else.’
‘Yeah, I spoke to the mum, Jennifer Haddon, earlier.’
‘Anything interesting?’
‘She’s a MILF – I would.’ Nick grinned.
‘What is wrong with you?’ Ruth asked, rolling her eyes. She was used to Nick’s laddish humour and knew it was a front.
‘According to most people, everything.’
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you and Amanda having a baby soon?’ Ruth asked.
Nick and his girlfriend Amanda had only been together since Christmas, so Ruth assumed that the pregnancy wasn’t planned. Nick hadn’t said as much but he had seemed shocked. He was clearly in a happy place now, which was in stark contrast to where she had found him when she first arrived in North Wales. She was pleased for him. However, she could see that the responsibility of the pregnancy weighed on him sometimes.
‘I was just looking. Anyway, the lovely Jennifer and Kathy Wright aren’t close but get on okay. However, Jason Wright isn’t winning any popularity contests in that house anytime soon.’
‘What did Jennifer Haddon say?’ Ruth asked.
‘She described Jason as “a controlling bully”,’ Nick said.
Ruth nodded – it fitted with the picture she had too. ‘Emma Haddon told me that Jason Wright had bruised Rosie’s wrist and hurt her shoulder. He sounds like a nasty piece of work.’
‘Yeah, I got that general impression too. We need to interview him asap, don’t we?’ Nick asked.
‘I think a voluntary interview today might be sensible.’
At that moment, Merringer came thundering across the incident room towards them. He must have been in a hurry as he had one side of his shirt hanging out of his trousers. That’s what she loved about Merringer: his slightly nerdy gawkishness.
‘Boss, call from SOCO. They’ve found blood at the yard at Haddon Farm. They need you there as soon as,’ Merringer said breathlessly.
Christ! That doesn’t sound good.
Grabbing her jacket, Ruth looked at Nick. ‘Let’s go.’
‘You smoke, I drive? I know,’ Nick said with mock resignation.
It was their little saying that had somehow come about since they started working together a few years ago.
‘Just don’t tell anyone I’m smoking,’ Ruth said as they went.
‘It’ll cost you,’ Nick said, arching an eyebrow.
‘I won’t tell Amanda that you’re a sleazebag that flirts with every attractive witness you meet?’ Ruth suggested.
Nick nodded. ‘Seems fair. You’re on, boss.’
RUTH AND NICK SPED from the A55 down to Capelulo. In an abduction case like this, Ruth knew that everything had to be done with speed and sharp focus. A missed lead, clue or piece of evidence could be catastrophic.
Passing the sign to Abergele, Ruth looked out at the flat, dry farmland that stretched away to the south until it hit the ridges of Snowdonia Park. Due to the heat haze, the northern mountains and hills of Snowdonia were a blurred, undulating shape on the horizon. As Nick and Ruth turned west, the larger headland of Penmaenmawr came into view. To her left, Ruth could see a smooth arc of green hills and uplands extending east to west.
Nick knew the area nearby because of the Fairy Glen Waterfalls, which he had visited on a school trip. They were over twenty-five feet high, and the water fell down a ragged rock face that had been formed during the last ice age. It was the Victorians that had given the falls their name after a series of fairy sightings in the 1880s.
As their car bumped along the farm track, Ruth wound down the window. The scent of tree blossom mixed with the thicker smell of farmland. She reached into her bag to get a cigarette.
‘That’s four today, boss,’ Nick said, reprimanding her.
Ruth gave him the finger. ‘Fuck off, Dad!’’
‘Charming.’ Nick raised his eyebrow sardonically.
Sheep and lambs moved out of their way and scuttled towards a wooden gate and wire mesh.
Up ahead, they could see two marked patrol cars and the SOCO forensic van parked in a field. In the distance, a uniformed officer was taping off the scene with blue-and-white evidence tape. This was now a crime scene.
Nick and Ruth pulled off the track, parked in the field and made their way towards the barn. A few local rubberneckers had already arrived to see what was going on.
How long will it be before the
bloody press arrive?
By the main gate, there were already some candles, flowers and a teddy bear. Messages that had been written or typed had been stuck to the wood of the gate with #FindRosie featuring on many of them.
A female uniformed officer was standing beside the tape about twenty yards from the barn.
‘Are you running the duty log, Constable?’ Ruth asked.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ the Constable replied.
Ruth and Nick showed their warrant cards. ‘DI Hunter and DS Evans, Llancastell CID. No one comes in or out of this crime scene without signing in, Constable.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Ruth looked over at the locals, who were deep in conversation. ‘Could you politely ask our bystanders to move back from this area, Constable? Just in case we find anything else.’
‘Will do, ma’am.’
Haven’t they got anything better to do with their time? Ruth thought.
Ruth and Nick ducked under the tape as a man bounded over to greet them. As he pulled down his mask, she could see it was the chief forensic officer, Alexander Travis. They had worked together on the Andrew Gates case at Christmas.
‘Afternoon, Alex,’ Ruth said. ‘What have you found?’
Alex held up a small plastic bag that contained seven pink pills. ‘My junior officer just found this over by the firepit.’
Ruth took the bag and looked at the contents. Each pill had a heart shape stamped at its centre. She knew what they were. ‘Ecstasy?’
‘At a guess, yes. I’ll test them at the lab,’ Alex said.
‘Looks like Rosie and her friends were up here to do more than just drink a bit of cider,’ Nick said.
‘You’ve found some blood?’ Ruth asked.
‘Yeah. Over by the courtyard gate, through the barn,’ he explained, gesturing to the grisly discovery.
‘Is it human?’ Nick asked.
‘Not sure. One of my officers is just running it through the precipitin test,’ Alex pointed to an officer in a forensic suit and mask by the van.
A SOCO handed them white forensic suits, nitrile masks, shoes and purple gloves, which they snapped on.
As they entered the large barn, the wind picked up a little, and the thick timber joists and frame groaned. Glancing around, Ruth saw the wooden ladder that had been pulled down to access the hayloft.
‘Anyone been up there?’ Ruth asked.
‘Yes. We didn’t find anything,’ Travis explained.
The air in the barn was warmer and thicker than outside. A couple of flies buzzed and swirled by the stained window.
‘Out here,’ Travis said as he guided them through the barn and out the other side into the sunlight.
They came out into an uneven stone yard that was covered with the remnants of dry mud and straw. The yard was bordered by a semi-circle of derelict outbuildings and feed sheds. Ruth glanced at the rusting farm equipment that rested sadly against boarded-up wooden doors.
‘Apparently, this is the old part of the farm. It hasn’t really been used since they modernised in the nineties,’ Travis explained.
‘Perfect place for a party,’ Nick said.
‘Didn’t have you down as a closet raver, DS Evans,’ Ruth quipped.
Travis stopped by the long steel gate that led out to a track road, which disappeared into the fields.
It was then that Ruth spotted what Travis wanted to show them. A small patch of blood that had left a dark stain on the stone. It was now marked with a yellow plastic evidence tag.
Squatting down, Ruth looked at the blood. It was definitely fresh.
Then she followed her eyeline across the blood stain and over the dirty surface of the yard towards the gate. She spotted something that didn’t look right underneath an old rusty farm trailer that was about ten yards away.
Walking over, Ruth took a torch from her pocket. She crouched down again and used her torch to look underneath.
More blood? A lot more blood.
‘Nick, can you help me move this?’ Ruth said with some sense of urgency as she stood and grabbed the trailer.
‘Course,’ Nick said as went and took the other end.
Giving it a yank, the trailer rolled back a few yards. Underneath where it had stood was an enormous blood stain that covered an area of at least six feet by four feet.
Jesus Christ! It looked like a good few pints of blood. Ruth’s heart sank.
‘This is not good, boss,’ Nick mumbled grimly as he crouched down to get a closer look.
‘No, it’s really not,’ Ruth said.
If this is Rosie’s blood, then something very violent and horrific happened here, Ruth thought.
‘And this blood is fresh too. No more than a day or two,’ Travis said as he inspected it.
‘It rained three or four days ago, if I remember correctly, so that narrows down the time-frame,’ Ruth said, thinking out loud.
‘If this is human blood, I would like to get in a blood pattern analyst. Something doesn’t quite add up at the moment.’
There was movement and a SOCO officer strode purposefully out of the barn. The officer removed his mask so as to speak clearly.
‘Sir, the test came back as positive for human blood.’
Ruth and Nick exchanged a look – it wasn’t what they wanted to hear.
‘Thank you, Martin. I’ll be with you in a minute,’ Travis replied quietly. ‘I’ll check this patch too, but my educated guess is that it’s the same.’
Travis looked at them both as his mind processed the test results.
‘What does this tell us, Alex?’ Ruth asked.
‘At first glance, I think it would have taken three to four pints of blood to create a blood stain of that size and consistency,’ Travis explained. ‘So, whoever’s blood this is was either dead or unconscious when they left this farm.’
CHAPTER 3
Twenty-three hours
Ruth looked out of the windows of CID. It was still light, and specks of the white and orange lights of Llancastell twinkled in the distance. They had just passed the summer solstice. When she was younger, Ruth always loved how the evenings seemed to go on for ever. However, today time seemed to be racing away and it was close to being twenty-four hours since Rosie Wright went missing.
Striding over to the incident whiteboards, Ruth looked up that them. At the centre was a large printed copy of the photograph of Rosie Wright. It struck her how much Rosie looked like her mother. The blue eyes, slim nose and rosebud mouth were identical from what she could remember from her meeting with Kathy Wright. Rosie had posed for the photograph with an over-the-top grin and the fingers on her left hand showing the peace sign. She looked the epitome of youthful joy and carefree exuberance.
Where the hell is she? What has happened to her? And why?
Forensics wouldn’t be able to match the blood sample from the barn to Rosie’s DNA until later that night or even the morning. However, Ruth’s instinct told her that it was Rosie’s blood. And that meant Rosie was either in serious danger or worse.
The house-to-house and search of the farm had turned up nothing. Rosie hadn’t used her phone since she disappeared. The dog unit and local volunteers had searched the nearby woods and heathland. A police helicopter had completed a ten-mile-radius search with thermal imaging cameras and found nothing. Of course, if Rosie Wright was lying dead in a shallow grave or in a river somewhere, the cameras wouldn’t pick anything up. Even in summer, a dead body will be stone-cold in four to five hours.
Social media was already awash with the story. Of course, exposure had its pros and cons. Press coverage meant that the public were aware of Rosie, what she looked like and the fact that she was missing and might have come to harm. However, the downside was that every crazy, nut and attention-seeking lunatic came out of the woodwork. That meant time spent on false leads and real leads missed.
Ruth’s train of thought was broken by movement. Nick was still at his desk on the other side of the room.
‘Ge
t yourself home, Nick,’ she said.
‘Will do in a minute, boss.’
‘Haven’t you got a pregnant girlfriend at home?’ she asked.
‘Why do you think I’m here?’ Nick replied with a grin.
‘Bloody hell. And there’s me thinking you’re a thoughtful man in recovery,’ Ruth joked, and then she looked at him for a moment.
‘What?’ Nick asked.
‘It’s scary, isn’t it?’ Ruth said.
‘What’s that?’
‘Bringing a child into the world. Probably worse if you see what we see every day,’ Ruth said.
‘It’s all scary. I haven’t had a proper girlfriend since I was about twenty. And as for bringing up a kid ...’ Nick puffed his cheeks at the thought of it.
‘You’ll be a great dad. I promise it’ll be the best thing you ever do with your life,’ Ruth said.
Nick nodded, smiled and came past to look at the boards. It was clear Nick wasn’t going to be drawn any further into a long conversation about the meaning of life.
‘If she’s still alive, we’re running out of time, boss,’ Nick said.
Ruth looked up at the map of Capelulo and the surrounding area.
‘I know ... This is the only way from the farm up to the main road,’ Ruth said, pointing to a track on the map.
‘Yeah. There’s just that track that we came down today.’
‘Okay. And if that blood turns out to be Rosie Wright’s, then she was either dead or unconscious when she was taken from that yard.’
‘From what the esteemed Mr Travis said.’
‘So where did she go? Who took her? And how did they leave Haddon Farm with no one seeing anything?’
They both looked at the map for a moment – there was only one way in and one way out: the track that led down from the main road.
SAM FENDER’S ‘ALL IS On My Side’ was playing from somewhere inside Ruth’s home as the last remnants of daylight faded outside. It was late, and Ruth and Sian were cuddling in the kitchen as Ella walked in.
‘Oh God, get a room!’ Ella exclaimed, hiding her eyes in feigned horror.
The Devil's Cliff Killings Page 3