The Wrecking Bar

by Meurig Jones

  ‘So you just happen to discover another body, Inspector.’

  Lambert smiled to himself. It was typical of Marden to get straight to the point.

  ‘That’s right,’ Lambert agreed. Not much else he could add to that. He imagined Marden’s irritation sweeping across the airwaves.

  ‘Would you care to elaborate?’

  Lambert gave him the same story as he’d told Hughie, but added the details about the woman visitor and how he had phoned her.

  ‘So what made you decide to interview this Mark Yalding?’

  ‘Because I think he’s deeply connected to this case. And my finding his body confirms that.’

  There was a slight pause before Marden grudgingly agreed. ‘Yes, well, good work, Harry.’ He cleared his throat before continuing. ‘I’m on my way over as soon as. I’m going to deal with the press on this.’

  Lambert knew Marden pretended to find this a chore but suspected he rather enjoyed the attention. He imagined the chief super probably had video and DVD copies of his television appearances. Or was he being unnecessarily harsh?

  ‘Could I make a suggestion, sir?’

  ‘Yes, what is it?’

  ‘The murder weapon that was purchased at B & Q, Llanelli—’

  Marden interrupted. ‘I’d already planned an appeal for witnesses to identify the purchaser, since you mentioned it yesterday.’

  ‘But I was going to suggest that you get someone to buy a copy of the weapon from a DIY store to show it on TV. It might help to jog a few memories.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. And I hope to get to the crime scene within the next half hour. Meanwhile, if you can help it, avoid talking to the press.’

  Lambert had no intention of doing so; it was something he always tried to avoid.

  ‘And before I speak to them,’ Marden continued, ‘you can give me everything you know so far.’

  ‘Will do. And then I’ll need to get over to that pub for two o’clock, meet with this woman, find out who she is and her connection to Yalding.’

  Marden sounded surprised. ‘You arranged to interview her in a pub? Why didn’t you get her address?’

  ‘She was reluctant to give it.’

  Marden’s voice rose indignantly. ‘Sod that for a game of soldiers.’

  ‘I suspect she might be married and doesn’t want her husband knowing about her and Yalding. Sounds like they might have been lovers.’

  ‘And she’ll know he’s dead before long.’

  ‘That’s why I want to tell her myself, to see her reaction, before she sees it on the news. I’d like to take DC Debbie Jones with me.’

  ‘Woman to woman, and all that?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘What about Sergeant Ellis?’

  ‘I was just about to ring him and Kevin Wallace. The victim’s got a lot of private correspondence in his study which I’d like them to go through with a fine-tooth comb.’

  ‘OK. I’d better get moving. I’ll see you in a little while.’

  Lambert closed his phone and returned to the living room.

  ‘Hughie,’ he said, ‘if a wallet turns up when you’ve given the house a thorough going over, would you let me know?’

  ‘If you haven’t found it having looked in all the usual places, what makes you think—’

  ‘I’m not expecting it to turn up,’ Lambert interrupted. ‘I think it’s been taken for a reason.’

  Hughie, holding tweezers and picking a tiny thread from the thigh of the corpse, said, ‘I might posit the opinion that the killer on this occasion has the same revenge motive, but being a bit broke decides to rob his victim.’

  ‘Then why didn’t he take Titmus’s wallet? That had over a hundred quid in it. No, I think there was something in Yalding’s wallet the killer didn’t want us to find.’

  Hughie had stopped listening; he was too busy bagging minute items of evidence, his tongue poking from his mouth like a child. Sick of looking towards the mutilated corpse, and starting to feel nauseous, Lambert turned away.

  Hughie noticed and said, ‘Do this often enough and you get used to it. I can guarantee that by the time justice catches up with the other sex offenders, you won’t give it another thought.’

  Lambert knew Hughie had a point, but it didn’t seem to work that way. However many violent crimes he had witnessed, it didn’t seem to get any better. The inevitable reaction was depression, loss of appetite, sleepless nights and too much alcohol. All of which compounded the problem.

  And now Hughie had reminded him that possibly there was more to come.

  There were still three more sex offenders out there who were targets. And where were they? Could they be found before the killer struck again?

  ‘There are two ways of looking at this,’ Hughie said, interrupting his thoughts.

  Lambert braced himself for one of the forensic man’s sick observations.

  ‘These homicides play murder – no pun intended – with your social life, but they do offer a fair bit of overtime.’

  FIFTEEN

  DCS MARDEN ARRIVED at the scene as he said he would, exactly half an hour after speaking with Lambert on the phone. In the back garden, Lambert gave him the details and latest developments and thoughts on the case, and then left hurriedly by the side entrance. Beyond the police barricade, crowds of photographers, journalists and a few television reporters and cameramen surged forward, jostling each other and shouting questions.

  ‘What’s happening in there?’

  ‘How was Yalding killed?’

  ‘Have you any comments to make about how the case is developing?’

  ‘Is there a serial killer on the loose?’

  ‘Was the victim another paedophile?’

  Ignoring the questions as he pushed his way through the press, Lambert stopped briefly and gave them a strained smile before he spoke.

  ‘Detective Chief Superintendent Marden will be with you in just a moment, and he’ll be pleased to give you the details and answer your questions. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to dash.’

  He barged his way ill-temperedly through the throng and headed for his car. A local reporter who recognized him called, ‘Inspector Lambert! Where are you off to right now?’

  None of your business, he thought as he got into his car.

  He turned the car round and headed for Swansea, putting his foot down as it was now almost noon and there were some things he needed to do back at Cockett. But it was Sunday, and the Sunday drivers seemed to be out in force. He crawled along behind an elderly man until he found an opportunity to overtake.

  When he eventually arrived at Cockett Police Station, he immediately requested the arrest and interview tape of Mark Yalding. Although Marden had given him a transcript of the interview, he wanted to hear the interview itself. The transcript wouldn’t give pauses, hesitations and the sometimes dry voice and tremor of the suspect. From hearing Yalding talking, he would get a better impression of what the man was like.

  He went into the incident room, and while he waited for one of the uniforms to bring him the tape, he boiled the kettle, switched on one of the computers, made himself an instant coffee and sat by the desk with the opened-up computer. He’d just accessed his Inbox when a uniformed officer knocked and entered, hurried over to Lambert’s desk and gave him the tape. Lambert signed for it, giving the young constable a cursory, ‘Thanks, son,’ then clicked the tape into the machine and sat back to listen.

  Conducting the interview was DI Geoff Ambrose and DS Mary Leigh. Also present was Yalding’s solicitor Graham Chapman-Smith. The interview was conducted at 13.30 on the previous Thursday.

  DI Ambrose got straight to the point.

  Ambrose: Mr Yalding, have you heard of Operation Ore?

  Yalding: Of course I have.

  Ambrose: You seem clear on that, yet there are many people who wouldn’t know anything about it.

  Yalding: As you probably know, I work in television, and part of our remit is making documentaries, so
we are very involved in current affairs.

  Ambrose: So it won’t surprise you to learn that the FBI has traced a download of child pornography to your computer, paid for with your credit card. How do you explain that?

  Yalding: I can’t. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it wasn’t me.

  Ambrose: Are you telling us it was someone else using your computer?

  Yalding: No. I mean … I don’t know.

  Ambrose: Do you live alone?

  Yalding: Yes … yes, I live by myself.

  Ambrose: You seem a bit uncertain about that.

  Yalding: No, no, of course I do. I definitely live on my own.

  Ambrose: And so you have no way of explaining how those images came to be on your computer.

  Yalding: Absolutely none.

  Ambrose: You made a documentary about a paedophile ring in South Wales a while back. Was downloading child pornography anything to do with your work?

  Yalding: No. That documentary was in the planning stages at least nine months ago – maybe longer – and we shot it back in February.

  Ambrose: So you had no legitimate reason to download that pornography?

  Yalding: Look, Inspector, no one has a legitimate reason ever to download child pornography. But I have no idea how this has happened. Someone must have set me up?

  Ambrose: Set you up, sir? How is that possible?

  Yalding: I don’t know. Maybe … maybe someone hacked into my computer. These computer geeks, they can do all kinds of things.

  Ambrose: Well, I’m not an expert myself, sir, but these images are on your hard drive. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a hacker sending website images to someone else’s computer hard drive.

  Yalding: Well, these … these things are changing daily. As soon as a virus is eliminated another one takes its place.

  Ambrose: But we’re not talking about viruses. These are images downloaded from a website and paid for with your credit card.

  Yalding: That’s just not possible. I’ve only used my credit cards in restaurants in the past month.

  Ambrose: You’re sure about that?

  Yalding: Yes. No. I did fly to Paris three weeks ago and I used a credit card for that.

  Ambrose: How many credit cards do you have?

  Yalding: Well, I think … um … I think I’ve got four of them.

  Ambrose: You don’t seem that certain.

  Yalding: Only because I paid one off and cancelled it, and did a balance transfer on another.

  Ambrose: Have you used any of your credit cards for online purchases?

  Yalding: Well, yes, I have … in the past.

  Ambrose: And for what sort of services?

  Yalding: Not services. Goods. Products.

  Ambrose: Such as?

  Yalding: Um … a few DVDs and CDs. That sort of thing.

  Ambrose: What types of credit cards do you have? Visa or Mastercard?

  Yalding: I have, I think, one Visa card now, and three Mastercards. Or is it the other way round? No, no, I’m certain I’ve got more Mastercards than Visa. Not the other way round.

  Ambrose: The child pornography was paid for by a Mastercard in your name. How do you explain that?

  Yalding: Oh God! This is a nightmare. I swear to you I haven’t done this. It must be someone else … someone else who’s responsible.

  Ambrose: Any idea who that might be, sir?

  Yalding: No, I don’t. But it must be someone … someone who got into my house.

  Ambrose: Do you mean someone who might break in?

  Yalding: Well, yes, maybe. While I wasn’t there.

  Ambrose: OK, let’s just suppose someone did use your computer when you weren’t there. They would also have had to use one of your credit cards. Do you carry them around in your wallet or do you leave them lying around at home?

  Yalding: Well, I keep them in my wallet. But maybe I’d left one by the phone.

  Ambrose: And why would you do that?

  Yalding: Well, maybe to make a payment that was due.

  Ambrose: But you can’t remember for certain if you did or not?

  Yalding: Well, I think I must have done. What other explanation can there be?

  Ambrose: I have to have a password or a security name for my credit cards. Usually it’s your mother’s maiden name. Have you any idea how someone would know yours, Mr Yalding?

  Yalding: They wouldn’t need to know it. You only need your mother’s maiden name or a secure number when you contact the credit card company to make a transfer or get account information. If you make online purchases you don’t need any of that. Just the card number and the three letter code on the strip on the back. If anyone had my card, they could make an online purchase.

  Ambrose: That’s assuming someone had your card. And also assuming they had access to your home and computer. Does anyone have a key to your home?

  Yalding: I … No, of course not.

  Ambrose: I just thought a girlfriend perhaps.

  Yalding: No. No one has a key to my place.

  Ambrose: You live alone, but do you have a girlfriend, Mr Yalding?

  Yalding: I … No, I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment. But I’m not …

  Ambrose: Not what, sir?

  Yalding: I’m not … I mean, I’ve got normal … I’m a straight bloke.

  Ambrose: Do you mean straight as in the opposite of gay?

  Yalding: Yes, I’m just a normal bloke.

  Ambrose: But not in any relationship of any sort?

  Yalding: Not right now. No.

  Ambrose: How long?

  Yalding: Sorry?

  Ambrose: How long is it since you were in a relationship?

  Yalding: I broke up with my girlfriend two years ago.

  Ambrose: Was there a reason for the break-up?

  Yalding: These things happen.

  Ambrose: And apart from someone breaking and entering your home and happening to find a credit card conveniently waiting for them, you have no other explanation as to how these horrendous child pornography images came to be on your computer?

  Yalding: Look, I’ve told you, I can’t explain how they got there. But I haven’t done anything. I promise. It’s all a mistake. And I wish there was a way out of this nightmare.

  Ambrose: Mr Yalding, I am terminating this interview, as I believe we have enough evidence for a prosecution.

  Yalding: No, you can’t. Oh Christ! This is a nightmare….

  Lambert clicked the tape off. Knowing Yalding’s arrest and interview had happened on the Thursday, prior to the discovery of the two murders, Lambert could see that Ambrose obviously thought he had all the evidence he needed, and coupled with the suspect’s lame excuses about some mysterious intruder in his home, felt he had enough to put forward a case for the CPS. A clear-cut case, one which he could put behind him as he and his family set off on their Florida holiday.

  While he waited for DC Jones, he thought about Yalding’s interview. It was clear-headed and coherent in most parts. Not that this meant a great deal. Many sex offenders were intelligent, and most were cunning and manipulative. But Yalding, when almost handed a lifeline by Ambrose asking him if downloading child porn might have had anything to do with research, had actually refuted this, and even admitted that downloading child porn was inexcusable whatever the reason.

  Then there were the slight hesitations. Like when he was asked if he lived alone. Ambrose had picked him up on that, commenting on him not sounding certain. And that’s when Yalding emphatically denied it, almost as if he was protecting someone.

  Could it be the woman Lambert saw that morning at Yalding’s cottage?

  Then there was the business about the credit card, for which Yalding had no credible explanation. But still he emphatically denied using a credit card. Was this because he’d been caught in the act and thought it better to play dumb? Or was it because he was genuinely confused?

  The final hesitation in the interview, and a slightly more telling pause, came when Ambrose asked
him if he had a girlfriend. Obviously he knew where the DI was going with this, so he protested his staunch heterosexuality.

  From what he’d heard, Lambert was convinced that Yalding had lied to protect this Rhiannon woman.

  He glanced at his watch. It was almost 12.30. DC Jones was due to arrive at any moment. He sipped his coffee and winced. Instant just didn’t do it for him. The computer screen stared accusingly at him, reminding him that he needed to continue what he’d started, even though he knew he was going through the motions and doing what was expected of him. He opened up his brother-in-law’s email, clicked on the attachment and got the address of the Sydney crematorium. Then he found an international florist on the internet and sent a wreath costing over £60. A lot of money for a pointless gesture. But the hardest part was writing the message of condolence. He made several attempts and eventually settled on a simple message:

  ‘In memory of my dear sister, Angela, from her brother, Harry.’

  As he completed the transaction, paying for it with his Virgin credit card, he reflected on how easy it was to buy goods or services online – all one needed was the card details, name and address. How easy was that?

  ‘The traffic’s bloody murder,’ said a breathless DC Jones as she burst through the door.

  Lambert looked up and smiled. ‘Tell me about it. On the way here I got stuck behind a man who thought he was driving a bath chair to Lourdes.’

  Jones laughed. ‘That must be the same bloke I got stuck behind in the outside lane of the M4.’ She spotted the florist’s website before Lambert pressed Exit. ‘Who’s the lucky girl who’s getting flowers?’

  Lambert didn’t think it was any of her concern and said rather brusquely, ‘In this instance, not so lucky. My sister died yesterday and that was a wreath for the funeral.’

  There was a sudden stillness and coldness in the incident room. DC Jones’s vulnerability was like an adolescent’s as her face flushed and she stammered, ‘I – I’m sorry.’

  Feeling guilty for deliberately causing her embarrassment, Lambert cut in, ‘You weren’t to know, Debbie. I’m just going through the motions and doing what’s expected of me. My sister left to live in Australia when I was thirteen years old and never came back.’