When Blue was satisfied with his swim he bounced over to Gwen and shook his coat, spraying her with water.
‘Thanks!’ she giggled, wiping the water from her arms. ‘I suppose we’d better start back.’ She stood and clipped the lead to his collar before leading the way back to the path.
‘We could walk a little bit more. There’s no reason why I should be afraid.’ If anyone hears me talking to the dog they’ll think I’m nuts. She glanced around in all directions. There’s no one here, I’m alone. The thought gave her no comfort.
She walked further along the path until she came to a set of steps. With each step up her unease grew, her mouth felt dry and the lead slipped in her hand as perspiration covered her palms. I should turn back. She paused. Oh, this is ridiculous, it’s not as if I remember anything. She continued up the steps and tried to imagine what it would have been like if Beth had survived. Would we still be friends? I guess so, probably spending our days in each other’s houses, drinking tea and complaining about our husbands. She stopped when she reached the top of the steps, to catch her breath and scan her surroundings. To her right she could see the disused quarry, and the scars left on the landscape by decades of people hacking away the limestone.
She continued along the path until she came to a second set of steps. Blue happily tugged her upwards, eager to explore new territory. Her legs started to ache as she reached the top step and was grateful when the path levelled off. She stopped for a moment to peer down the ravine. Jagged rocks protruded from the cliff face. The height made her legs weak even though a wooden fence protected walkers from falling.
Gwen knew the path ran alongside farmland and onto the mountain, as she had often walked this route with Beth. Sometimes they would walk onto the mountain, pick up the road, and walk back into the village just to fill the time. Mostly they stayed in the shack, hidden from prying eyes where they would discuss boys and sex whilst drinking a flagon of cider. If I go any further I’ll get to the shack. A cold shiver ran over her body and she rubbed her arms. Just a little further.
She looked down again at the stream far below, wending its way towards the village and tried to steady her breathing. ‘Come on.’ She tugged on Blue’s lead. The old corrugated tin shack came into view set back on the side of the path. A snippet of a memory twisted Gwen’s stomach. She could see Beth walking ahead of her, hips swaying, bangles jangling on her wrist. They should have pulled the shack down. Tears gathered in her eyes and she blinked them away as she approached the shack. Two wooden sleepers had been used to make crude steps to the door, the rotten wood crumbled at the edges. Gwen stepped up and put her hand on the door. Her legs shook, threatening to buckle. You have to look. She pushed open the door and stepped inside. Blue sniffed around sending dust particles dancing in the air. It looks the same. Her eyes travelled over the dirt floor, then to the walls where the old rusty tools still hung on nails. No sign that anything happened here. She took a step closer to the wall. The axe is missing. A gap lay between a saw and a rake. Why didn’t they take them all away?
‘Oh Beth, who did this to us?’ She closed her eyes and tried to conjure Beth’s face. When she opened them again she saw Beth lying on the floor, her hair matted with blood, eyes staring glazed and lifeless. A pool of blood seeped into the dirt floor. A strangled cry left Gwen’s lips as she backed out of the shack. So much blood, she thought as her foot missed the step and she felt herself falling.
Chapter Three
Detective Inspector Meadows turned off his computer, sat back in his chair, and sighed. His report was now ready to hand over to DCI Lester in the morning. Operation Sweetcorn had been a success. The cannabis-producing operation concealed in a disused factory had been closed down and several arrests made. Now Meadows was bored. He knew it would be quiet working as part of a small team in the Welsh Valleys, but thought he would settle in and enjoy the breathing space after working in a major crimes unit in London. Since relocating back to his home town a year ago, though, he had done nothing but deal with drug operations and the occasional fraud. He wanted something to challenge his intellect and keep him awake at night.
Meadows grabbed his jacket and headed downstairs, where Sergeant Dyfan Folland was manning the reception desk.
‘How’s it going, Dyfan?’ Meadows leaned against the desk.
‘Pretty quiet, apart from some guy complaining about a missing wife. Apparently she put the roast on, went out for a walk, and hasn’t been seen since.’
‘So the guy’s hungry. Is that what’s classed as an emergency in the Valleys now?’ Meadows chuckled.
Dyfan’s laughter was cut short by the telephone ringing. He picked it up and addressed the caller in an authoritative voice.
Meadows stood and listened to the exchange. He saw Dyfan’s expression turn from irritation to interest as he scribbled down details before ending the call.
‘That was the missing woman’s uncle. David Collier.’
The name stirred Meadows’ memory.
‘Were you still living here when those two girls were attacked in Bryn Melyn?’ Dyfan asked.
‘Yes, I was taking my A levels at the time. Gwen Collier and Bethan Hopkins. I used to catch the same bus into school as them.’
‘Well, it’s Gwen that’s gone missing.’
‘Perhaps I should call in on the family. It’s understandable they’re concerned after what they went through.’
‘I suppose, but I can’t see what this has to do with what happened then. Unless they think the murderer has materialised after …’ Dyfan screwed his face up in concentration. ‘Must be … twenty-five years.’
‘Twenty-eight.’ Meadows corrected him. ‘Still, I think we should check it out. What’s the name of her husband?’
‘Matthew Thomas.’
Meadows felt his body stiffen. ‘So she stayed with him.’
‘Do you know him?’
‘Used to be in school with him. He was a right arsehole.’
‘Well, if the way he spoke to me on the phone is anything to go by, he hasn’t changed much.’ Dyfan grinned.
‘Give me the address and I’ll head up there now. I’ll call and give you an update.’
‘She still lives in Bryn Melyn.’ Dyfan copied down the details.
Meadows took the paper from Dyfan and looked at the address before leaving the building. Matt Thomas, he thought as he drove. It will be interesting to see him after all these years. He let his thoughts drift back to 1987. Matt had made his life a misery with his constant bullying. Always surrounded by the same group of boys who would strut around the school looking for their next victim. Gwen and Bethan were two years younger. He could picture them now, sitting on the school bus gossiping and giggling. Gwen always gave him a smile whenever they passed in the school corridors. News of the attack had spread quickly through the school, followed by flowers left at the gates for Bethan, and prayers for Gwen’s recovery as girls sobbed and clung to each other. After that came the speculation of who was responsible. Then the worry that there was a killer on the loose. Parents became anxious. Teenagers stayed indoors, afraid to go out after dark. Meadows left the Valleys a year after the attack and when he returned to visit some years later, the murder of Bethan Hopkins had been forgotten and the people of the village had moved on with their lives.
I don’t suppose Gwen ever got over what happened, he mused as he parked the car and looked at the Thomas’ house, a detached, red brick house with a neatly bordered lawn. Two cars sat on the driveway, one with private number plates, the other an old hatchback. Looks like Matt has done alright for himself.
The daylight had faded and a waning moon struggled to illuminate the sky. The lights had been turned on in the house but the curtains left open, and through the window a figure could be seen pacing back and forth. Meadows took a deep breath and got out of the car. The front door swung open as he approached the house and a wiry, grey-haired man appeared. He wore grey slacks with an open neck shirt.
‘He
llo, I’m DI Meadows.’ He showed his identification.
‘It’s about bloody time. Do you know how many calls we’ve made? You should have come out hours ago.’
Meadows ignored the outburst. ‘And you are?’
‘David Collier, Gwen’s uncle. You better come in.’
Meadows stepped over the threshold, followed David into the sitting room, and took in the scene. A teenage boy and girl were sat on a cream sofa. The boy glared at Meadows while the girl kept her head down as her fingers worked furiously over the screen of her phone. A man in his forties with receding blond hair stood in the centre of the room and eyed Meadows suspiciously.
‘Police Matt,’ David said.
‘DI Meadows.’ Meadows watched Matt closely for signs of recognition. It didn’t take long.
‘Meadows?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Winter Meadows?’
‘That’s right.’ Meadows walked further into the room.
‘Bloody hell, you’re a policeman. Well, there’s a turn-up.’ Matt’s lips curled into a sneer.
‘Detective Inspector, actually. It’s been a long time, Matt.’ He noticed Matt had put on a few pounds over the years, which together with the receding hairline gave Meadows a shot of satisfaction. He knew Matt would be eyeing his lean six-foot one frame and full head of black hair with envy. He struggled to keep his face neutral. This isn’t the time for one-upmanship.
The kitchen door opened and a lady walked in, short ash-blonde hair pushed behind her ears. She wore a pair of Capri pants and a short-sleeved pink sweater.
‘It’s the police, love,’ David said.
Meadows saw the colour drain from her face and her hands flew up to her mouth. David moved quickly and put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her in close. ‘It’s OK, there is no news,’ he soothed. He turned to Meadows. ‘This is my sister-in-law, Sue.’
Meadows held out his hand in greeting. ‘I’m sorry if I startled you. To be honest, we don’t usually get involved in a missing adult at this early stage, but given events of the past I appreciate how concerned you must be. At the moment this is just a courtesy call so I can take some details and establish if the situation warrants further investigation.’
‘Well, that’s good of you.’ Matt snarled.
‘Please, take a seat,’ Sue said as she shot Matt a warning look. ‘Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?’
‘No thanks.’ Meadows sat down in an armchair.
‘Maybe a herbal drink then,’ Matt grinned.
I see he hasn’t changed. Meadows ignored the comment and took out his notebook and pen. ‘Perhaps you can start by telling me what happened this morning before Gwen left the house?’
‘Nothing happened, she took the dog out for a walk and didn’t come back. She usually only goes out for about an hour.’ Matt slumped down in the chair opposite Meadows.
‘And how did she seem when she left?’
‘Just her normal self.’
‘Had there been an argument?’
‘No,’ Matt’s jaw clenched.
‘Has she been worried or depressed recently?’
‘What is this?’ Matt snapped. He jumped up from the chair and started pacing the room. ‘What’s the point of all these questions? You should be out looking for her.’
‘They’re just standard questions, I’m trying to establish Gwen’s state of mind when she left the house.’
‘He’s trying to help, Matt,’ Sue said sharply.
Meadows got the impression that Sue Collier didn’t have much time for her son-in-law. He rubbed his chin then looked Matt in the eyes. ‘What was she wearing when she left?’
Matt shrugged his shoulders.
‘Ariana,’ Sue said. ‘What was your mother wearing this morning?’
The girl looked up from her phone and eyed Meadows as if she only just realised he was in the room. ‘Cropped jeans and a green vest top, probably her Crocs, she always has those things on her feet.’
Meadows smiled at the girl. She looks like Gwen. Same delicate features, cornflower blue eyes set against porcelain skin. I wonder if her hair is caramel-blonde underneath the dye. ‘How did your mum seem to you this morning?’
‘OK I suppose. I guess she was a bit pissed off.’
‘Ariana!’ Sue scolded.
‘Go on,’ Meadows encouraged.
‘We had a party last night for Mum’s birthday. She didn’t really want one and there was a lot of mess for her to clean up. Then Dad got drunk and …’ she glanced across as Matt, who shot her a thunderous look, ‘well, nothing, she probably had a hangover.’
‘Perhaps she was a little fed up and went to see a friend,’ Meadows suggested.
‘No, she’s not like that. Anyway, she wouldn’t deliberately stay away and worry her mother,’ David said.
‘We’ve called everyone she knows and no one has seen her today. The kids have been out to all the usual places she walks the dog,’ Sue added.
‘Have you got a recent photograph of Gwen?’
It was Sue who moved to the mantelpiece and took down a photo frame and handed it to Meadows. Doesn’t look any different. His eyes roamed over her face; her hair was a shade lighter and fine lines showed around her eyes and mouth. ‘Do you mind if I take this with me, I’ll get some copies made and return it to you?’ He looked over the notes he had written. ‘What type of dog does Gwen have?’
‘It’s a Siberian Husky, white. I bought him for Gwen, I thought she might feel more secure if she had a dog,’ David said.
‘We’ll keep an eye out for the dog and check the dog warden, see if he has been picked up.’
‘Blue would never leave Mum. He follows her everywhere.’ Ariana’s voice quivered.
Meadows turned to Matt. ‘Is Gwen on any medication?’
‘She takes a low dose of Citalopram and occasionally tranquilisers to help her sleep. She’s suffered with anxiety ever since the attack.’ Matt squirmed, obviously uncomfortable talking about the subject.
‘You don’t think this has anything to do with what happened then, do you?’ Sue fingered her necklace with trembling hands.
‘I shouldn’t think so.’ I hope not. Meadows gave Sue what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Where does Gwen go to when she walks the dog?’
‘The park or the rugby field. If it’s warm she walks up the mountain to the river. We’ve checked everywhere. Ariana and Alex have been up the mountain.’ Matt started pacing the room again.
‘What about the quarry footpath?’
The atmosphere in the room darkened. Sue visibly flinched and Matt stopped pacing and glared at Meadows. The silence hung in the air until Alex spoke up.
‘Mum never goes up there. She even forbids me and Ariana to go anywhere near the quarry.’ The same steely eyes as his father’s challenged Meadows to argue.
‘Gwen hasn’t been up there since the attack. She would never go up there alone,’ Sue added.
Meadows stood. ‘I’ll log the details at the station, check the hospital, and alert uniform to watch out for Gwen and the dog. Can you give me Gwen’s mobile number? I take it she took her phone with her.’
‘Is that all?’ Matt stepped closer to Meadows. His eyes blazed. ‘Shouldn’t you be calling in a search team or something?’
‘At this point, we don’t know exactly where Gwen went. It’s a large area to search and it’s dark. I can assure you we will do all we can to find Gwen.’ Meadows turned his attention to Sue. ‘Did Gwen ever recover her memory?’
‘No, she went to a psychotherapist for years, but nothing ever came of it. To be honest, I think it’s a blessing that she doesn’t remember.’
Meadows nodded. ‘Please contact the station if you hear anything from Gwen. I will be in touch soon. I understand how difficult this is but I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for Gwen’s disappearance.’
David saw Meadows to the door. ‘Thank you for coming out. I’m sorry about Matt, I guess he’s just worried about Gwen.’
‘That’s
understandable. How old are the children?’
‘Alex is seventeen and Ariana fifteen.’
The daughter is the same age as Gwen when she was attacked. ‘They are both fully aware of what happened to their mother and Bethan Hopkins?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘OK. Good. I will be in touch as soon as I have any news.’ Meadows shook David’s hand and headed for his car. Once inside he called the station and gave Dyfan an update.
‘So what do you think?’ Dyfan asked.
‘Well, it sounds out of character for her to go off and not get in contact with her family. The husband is pretty wound up.’
‘Any domestic problems?’
‘Not that I’ve been made aware of. There was a strange atmosphere in the house and I get the impression the daughter would have said more if Matt hadn’t been there. Maybe something happened at the party last night.’
‘She could have run off. It happens. There isn’t much you can do tonight and your shift finished hours ago. Go home and get some rest.’
Meadows ran his hand through his hair. He had a bad feeling about this. ‘I think I should check out the quarry. It’s the only place the family hasn’t looked.’
‘Do you want me to send up a couple of boys?’ Dyfan offered.
‘Nah, I’m here now. Won’t take me long. I have a torch in the car. I’ll call in when I’ve finished the search.’ Meadows hung up and drove the short distance to the entry of the quarry then stepped out of the car. From this elevated position he could see most of the village. She couldn’t have gone far without being seen. He scanned his surroundings. The rugby pitch was just off the main road leading into the village. She would have been seen going there and there’s no cover. The park was on the mountain road, again visible by passing traffic and the surrounding houses. The kids had searched the mountain so that only left the quarry footpath. Meadows sighed. He didn’t relish the thought of walking the path in the dark. The place used to give him the creeps in the daylight.
The Silent Quarry Page 2