CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It was still dark when Julie woke, but by the time she had fed the cat, dressed
and swallowed a cup of coffee, the sky was turning pink and the pine trees on
the hill were a jet-black serrated line against the wisps of colour. Despite
the promise of another hot and sunny day, there was still a chill in the air,
and Julie zipped up her jacket as she closed the door and stepped out onto the
drive. She thrust her hands into her pockets and set off up the lane.
Lizzie was going to be interesting, later on. That poor husband of hers looked
like a small and insistent dog who had been kicked very hard, and she wasn’t going to be a pushover herself, despite the tears. Julie kicked at a loose
stone and sent it skittering into the grass verge. What was she doing up there
in that cottage? Was there someone else up there with her, if so who? And where
had they gone?
The black and white horse was still asleep, but he stirred when he heard her
voice, anticipating a breakfast of carrot, if he was lucky. He was. He crunched
his way through a carrot the size of Julie’s wrist and snorted, spraying her face with a damp mist.
‘Oi, Cam, you great dollop, there’s no need for that.’ Julie stroked his nose. ‘Someone ought to teach you a few table manners.’
‘Well, you could do that yourself, the offer’s still there,’ came a voice from behind her. ‘When you’ve finished faffing about up the Elan Valley, we’re going out for a ride.’
Julie turned and saw Menna, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
‘You’re turning into an early bird. It must be the country air,’ Menna said.
‘It’s more like too much stuff whirling around my tiny brain.’ Julie laughed. ‘Couldn’t you sleep either?’
‘Gwyn likes to get up with the sun. The theory is that we go to bed early and get
up early, but it never quite works like that. It comes from his days up at his
parents’ place. No electricity see, and his dad was a tight old bugger. He hated running
the generator, so they went to bed when it went dark.’
‘Bet that was fun in December.’
‘It was never what I’d call fun up there. It’s a wonder Gwyn ever got the hang of electricity and the telly.’
Julie laughed. ‘I just can’t imagine life without lights, especially not here. I’ve never been anywhere so dark in my life.’
‘You’re not wrong there. They have a saying in Welsh, As black as a cow’s stomach. That says it all.’
‘There are some delightful sayings in Welsh, not. It sounds so poetic and then
you get the translation.’
‘How are you doing with the poor girl on the Monks’ Trod?’
‘Don’t ask.’
‘That good?’ Menna laughed. ‘Well, I’ll be round once it’s all solved. You’ve put off taking this lad out for too long already.’
‘I might hold you to that.’ Julie smiled, but as she turned to set off back down the lane, the smile faded.
What had happened to Rosa? Who knew she was staying at the B&B in Llandrindod? Was it just chance she was there? She stopped walking. What
had the manager at the Met said? Had Rosa been looking for any B&B, or was she actually looking for that one, for Mrs Pritchard? Or Mr Pritchard,
for that matter. She smiled at the thought of Rosa and the upright Mr Pritchard
being an item but the smile drained from her face almost immediately. What if
James Pritchard was involved in this, somehow? Was that why he had gone
missing? The timing wasn’t exact, but it might fit. She started to walk, then jog in her rush to get
home.
*
Adam was wheeling his bike down the drive when she got back.
‘I wondered where you were.’
‘You know me, case-related insomnia.’
‘And has the horse come up with anything useful?’
‘More than you know. Do you want breakfast?’
‘I’m going to go for a quick spin round the block. I’ve got to be in early this morning. Lots of end of term shenanigans to sort out.’ Adam clicked a cleat into his pedal. ‘Will you have gone when I get back?’
Julie nodded. ‘I think it has the makings of one of those days. I’ll let you know if I’m going to be late.’
‘Have fun.’ It took less than half a minute for Adam to disappear round the bend and into
the folds of the hill.
*
Swift was in reception as Julie arrived at work.
‘You’re early, Sir.’
‘You too, Julie, but you’ve still missed the Slaithwaites.’ He waved several pieces of paper full of neat, handwritten notes. ‘We’ve arranged that they’ll come back later on, once we’ve had a chance to read this lot. Mrs Slaithwaite is nothing if not reticent.’
‘Oh fabulous, just what we need. Why is she being difficult, do you think? Do you
think she had anything to do with Rosa’s death?’
Swift shook his head. ‘Unlikely, I’d have said. But I’d love to know who else might have been involved.’
‘I might just be able to help you there. Can I go back and see Mrs Pritchard in
Llandrindod this morning?’
‘You don’t think she’s involved?’
‘No, but I think the errant Mr Pritchard might be able to tell us a thing or two
though and I have a feeling he might just have been in touch.’ Julie waved at Brian Hughes and followed Swift through the doors and down the
corridor. ‘Shall I take Morgan with me?’ Swift hesitated and she knew he was itching to join her himself. ‘We need to do a bit of bonding, Sir, I think he’s in danger of getting up to his old tricks where I’m concerned.’
Swift nodded. ‘He does seem a bit out of sorts, just lately. Do you think a trip out with you
will help?’
‘Well it might help us to talk a bit more.’
‘Point taken.’ Swift laughed. ‘I’m not very good at sitting in the office. But make sure you’re back by half eleven. I want you in on the Lizzie Slaithwaite interview. You
can get her on side, you being a woman and a northerner at that.’
‘I think I’ll take that as a compliment, Sir.’
*
If Morgan Evans was pleased at being allowed out of the office again, he was
hiding it extremely well. It took until they were passing the primary school in
Llanelwedd before Julie managed to illicit more than a grunt in response to her
cheery questioning.
‘How’s the revision for your exam coming on?’
Morgan hesitated, but finally took it in the spirit in which it was meant. He
grimaced. ‘Oh God, Sarge, how do you remember it all? It goes straight through and out the
other side, with me, it does. Nothing of it sticks at all.’
‘How are you revising? Have you got a plan?’
‘Nothing so organised. I just keep looking and looking at it.’
Julie glanced across at him. He did seem genuinely concerned.
‘Well I can never remember anything unless I write it down. I had packets and
packets of those little coloured cards, one colour for each major subject. If I
could remember what colour card it was likely to be written on, it made it
easier to recall the facts.’
Morgan laughed. ‘Has anyone ever told you, you’re really weird, Sarge?’
‘Only all the time. Helen, the DC I used to work with in Manchester, she thought
I was totally bonkers. I didn’t even tell her about the flip chart paper in strategic places in the flat.’
‘I get the feeling this is going to be a little bit scary. What did you do with
that?’
‘I had three sheets for each colour of card and I wrote everything from the cards
on the flip chart paper as bullet points, in tiny writing, so the three huge
pieces of paper had everything I had to know about that subject that was also
on the little cards I could take out with me.’ Julie was aware that Morgan was staring at her with his mouth open.
‘How long did it take you to do all that, do you think?’
‘In total? Hours and hours. And then Adam would fire questions at me from all
over the flat too. Evidence and Procedure from the living room, Crime from the
kitchen…’
‘Isn’t there an easier way of doing it?’
‘You could probably do a lot less than I did, but passing the exam isn’t really the point, is it?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘It’s having all that information in your head, knowing as much as you can.’
Morgan sighed. ‘You really are a perfectionist. I bet you buy the new editions of the manuals
every year.’ He laughed at his own joke.
‘Actually, Morgan, I do.’
‘God, Julie, I wasn’t serious.’ Morgan shook his head. ‘Your old partner might have been right.’
‘Helen is right about a lot of things, Morgan. Trust me.’
*
The manager at the Metropole was absolutely definite. Rosa hadn’t asked for Mrs Pritchard by name, or the name of the B&B. It had definitely been at his suggestion that she had gone to Bryn Awel. He’d only mentioned it to her because he thought Mrs Pritchard might do Rosa a
cheaper deal, given the circumstances. Thank goodness for people with wonderful
memories, thought Julie, even if it did blow a huge hole in her theory. Or did
it? They left Julie’s car in the hotel car park and walked from there to the row of impressive
houses where Rosa had stayed.
Mrs Pritchard seemed different this time. She still wore the pristine uniform of
lambs’ wool turtleneck and pearls, but today she looked completely exhausted. Her
eyes, above pale grey circles, seemed deeper set and less alert. Running a B&B must have been harder work than she’d thought. Julie introduced Morgan Evans.
‘What can I do for you, Sergeant?’ Mrs Pritchard made no move to let them into the tasteful grey and cream
hallway.
‘I’ve just a couple more questions about your husband’s disappearance, if you wouldn’t mind.’
‘I don’t know any more than I told you last time. I don’t know what more I can add.’
‘Were you getting on well before he left?’
‘Well,’ Mrs Pritchard looked down at the toes of her shoes, ‘James was tired. Things at work were getting on top of him, he said.’
‘But you were happy enough at home?’
‘We were happy, yes. Or he was.’
‘And you weren’t so happy, perhaps?’ Julie cringed at Morgan’s tone, but Mrs Pritchard appeared not to have noticed. She shook her head.
‘Who knows what that even means, Constable?’
‘And you’re absolutely positive you’d never seen Rosa before, either here in Llandrindod or anywhere else in the
area?’ Julie asked.
‘Totally sure.’
The door behind her opened slightly, and despite Mrs Pritchard’s desperate attempt to pull it shut, the face of a small boy appeared in the
gap. The boy’s skin was horribly pale, his eyes dark and doe-like above the prominent
cheekbones. Julie almost gasped out loud.
‘He’s a guest,’ Mrs Pritchard said, ushering the child back into the hall and closing the door
behind her. ‘His grandfather can’t keep up with him.’
‘Is he all right?’ Julie asked.
‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ Mrs Pritchard smiled.
‘Quite,’ said Morgan.
‘Is there anything else I can help you with, Sergeant?’
‘Not for the moment,’ Julie said. ‘Thank you for your time.’
Morgan and Julie walked down the path and onto the pavement. Mrs Pritchard was
still standing on the doorstep, watching them go.
‘That all seems fairly plausible, Sarge.’
‘I’m not so sure. Did you think she was desperate to get the child out of our way?’
‘Probably just didn’t want him running onto the road.’
‘Mmm. Maybe.’ Julie glanced over her shoulder one last time before they turned the corner.
Mrs Pritchard was still there, watching.
They were almost back at the car when Julie’s mobile rang. It was Swift.
‘Are you still in Llandod?’
‘Yes, why, what’s up?’
‘Can you get yourselves up to the Elan Valley?’
‘Now, Sir?’
‘As soon as you can. I’ve just had a cryptic phone call from Mal.’
‘That sounds intriguing.’
‘It is. He says he’s found something unexpected in his cess pit.’
‘Oh God, that’s all I need. Is that something connected with Rosa’s death?
‘I would say that’s probably highly likely.’ Swift cleared his throat. ‘I’ve asked Dr Greenhalgh to get there as a matter of urgency.’
‘Ah, are we talking another body here, do you think?’
‘That was my first thought from Mal’s painstaking technicolour description.’
Julie grimaced. ‘Understood, Sir.’
‘Thank you, Julie. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
*
The tractor was parked in the centre of the yard, its bucket at just above head
height. Between the large oblong teeth, an arm dangled. What skin was visible
appeared discoloured and was covered in small amounts of what Morgan referred
to in his notebook as ‘matter’. As they crossed the yard, Julie could hear the low rumble of Dr Greenhalgh’s Alfa, which slowed only to rattle across the cattle grid before speeding into
the yard and stopping in a cloud of dust.
‘I didn’t know what to do with it.’ Mal was standing beside the tractor, his cap in his hands. I thought it would
be better to bring it down here, but I left the bucket as it was. I didn’t want to dislodge anything.’
‘Quite right.’ Kay Greenhalgh nodded her approval. ‘I wonder if you would be kind enough to lower the bucket for me, so I can see
exactly what I’m dealing with.’
Mal climbed into the tractor and started the engine. He lowered the bucket very
gently. Even so, foul-smelling fluid slopped onto the concrete, forming puddles
from the dark splashes. He switched off the engine but it was several moments
before he climbed down from the cab.
‘Is he dead?’ he asked Dr Greenhalgh, who by now was clad in a white paper suit, blue
overshoes, gloves and a mask. She nodded.
‘Very definitely. And from the state of him, I’d say he’s been in there a few days, at least.’ She leaned forward to get a better look and Morgan retched. ‘Are you all right there, Constable?’
Morgan nodded. ‘Sorry.’
‘No need to apologise. He is particularly fragrant, I’ll grant you that.’ She turned to Mal. ‘Now, could you tell me exactly how you found him?’
‘I was digging out the pit, see. It all gets a bit backed up so I went and gave
it a bit of a poke. He was my second bucketful. I didn’t even notice him until that arm flopped over the edge of the bucket. It gave me
a bit of a moment, it did.’
‘I can imagine. And how often do you have to poke your cess pit?’
‘Just now and again.’
‘So, you’ve no idea how long he’s been in there?’
Mal shook his head.
‘Could it have been accidental?’ Julie asked. ‘Could he just have fallen in?’
‘Well,’ Dr Greenhalgh lifted the end of a thick piece of twine and held it aloft, ‘it’s possible. I’d have said that this might have made him more than a little unsteady on his
feet.’
‘Ah,’ Morgan said. ‘So he was strangled?’
‘He’s been garrotted. The twine is attached to this piece of excruciatingly sharp
wire. I’ve never seen anything quite so vicious. It’s a wonder his head’s still attached. See here, where it’s sliced through his windpipe.’
Morgan had the good sense to move away before revisiting his breakfast.
‘So it’s not suicide then?’ Julie asked.
‘Oh hilarious, Sergeant. No, definitely not suicide. I can’t give you any timings yet, because of the increased temperature brewing in the
cess pit, but I’d be surprised if he hadn’t been here for about five days or so.’
‘Anything else you can tell us?’
‘I’d say he must have been killed here, rather than just dumped.’
Morgan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘Well, he couldn’t have walked here, could he, not with that neck wound.’ She pointed down at the dark stains on skin and clothing, still visible despite
their immersion in the fetid liquid of the cess pit.
‘He could have been carried, though, couldn’t he?’
‘I don’t see how you could do that successfully.’ Dr Greenhalgh traced the wire round to the right hand side of the corpse’s head with a single finger. ‘Not without the head becoming detached.’ There was a squelching sound as the head moved away from the neck under the
slight pressure, breaking the temporary seal.
Julie tried not to smile as Morgan once more departed across the concrete. Poor
Morgan. He really wasn’t cut out for the visceral side of policing. ‘Any clues as to who he is, Kay?’
Dr Greenhalgh shook her head. ‘I’d rather get him back to the table before I start rummaging for ID. Everything’s a bit precarious, but I’ll get onto it as soon as I get him back to the office.’
*
It took more than three hours before Kay Greenhalgh was satisfied with her
notes. Julie took photographs and made her own notes for Swift. Where was he?
This was so unlike him.
‘It looks as though his transport’s arrived,’ Julie said. A large black van with tinted windows slid into the yard and three
dark-suited men sloped out. If they were concerned at the heinous state of
their client, it didn’t show as they worked silently and methodically, aided by the three Scene of
Crime officers.
The van had already left by the time Swift arrived. Dr Greenhalgh was back in
civvies and getting into her car. When she saw him she climbed out again. ‘Craig! Where the hell have you been? You’ve been hours. You’ve missed all the action.’
Swift wrinkled his nose, looked at the digger and the latest pile of vomit,
which Sarah was scrubbing with the aid of a yard brush and hose, and nodded. ‘Thank heaven for small mercies then, is it, Doctor?’
‘Are you alright? It’s not like you to be late to an investigation. I know you always like to see the
deceased in situ.’
Swift glanced at her. ‘I had an urgent appointment. It took longer than expected.’ He looked away, down the drive. ‘I might have to ask your professional advice at some point.’
He stopped abruptly and turned away as Julie reached them.
‘Everything in hand, Sergeant?’
‘It is, Sir. We’ve got loads of videos and photographs.’ She showed Swift a photograph on her phone and he grimaced.
Kay Greenhalgh twinkled at him. ‘You lads, you’ve no blinking stamina.’ She got back into her car and slid the window down. ‘Julie’s got everything under control, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can with first impressions.’ She put the car into gear. ‘Phone me,’ she said to Swift, then she whirled the Alfa round, waved and set off down the
long drive like a guided missile.
Swift watched her go, and turned to Julie. ‘Did she beat you to it?’
‘Not quite, but she wasn’t far behind us.’
‘It’s a wonder she’s not been banned. She was at the hospital when I phoned her. You must have had
a twenty mile head start.’
‘Well fortunately, she does everything at top speed. She’s promised an update by the end of the afternoon.’
‘Do we know who he is?’
‘No. But I know who I think it might be.’
‘Quigley?’
‘He’d be top of my list, Sir.’
‘Mine too. What’s happened to Morgan?’
‘He’s getting cleaned up. He was a bit overwhelmed. Several times. To be fair, it
was pretty gruesome.’
‘I think I’m glad I was late.’
‘Did you speak to Rosa’s parents, Sir?’
Swift nodded. ‘They confirmed the ID beyond a shadow of a doubt from a scar on her knee. She
fell off her bike on a gravel path after her dad decided it was time to take
the stabilisers off.’ He looked away from her, up to the hill. ‘They’re absolutely destroyed by her death.’
‘Maybe they feel guilty?’
‘Maybe they do, Julie, but we don’t know what Rosa put them through, do we?’ Swift sighed. ‘Come on, let’s go and see what Mal and Sarah have to say.’
Sarah was close to tears. She insisted on putting the kettle on and filling
plates with food, but she was obviously very shaken. Julie helped her with mugs
and teaspoons.
‘Thank you, . I wouldn’t trust myself with the china, not today.’
‘Are you all right?
‘Do you know, I don’t think I am. How do you manage to do this every day?’
‘It’s not every day, Sarah, thank goodness. This sort of thing is pretty rare, even
where I’m from.’ Julie took the teapot from her, which stopped the quiet rattling of its lid. ‘I don’t suppose you know who he is?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t even recognise anyone you knew really well if they were in that condition,
would you?’
‘Has there been anyone hanging round the farm in the past few days?’
‘Nobody. We had a new fish man come up the day before yesterday. He seemed very
nice, but the freezer’s full of lamb, so we didn’t buy anything. Apart from him, the postman and the lads who come up to help
with the sheep, there’s been nobody here.’
Mal came in from the scullery, wiping his hands on a large loop of towelling,
rubbing carefully between his fingers.
‘I’ve never seen anything like that in my life,’ he said. He put the towel on the side and lowered himself into a chair. ‘And I don’t ever want to see anything like it again.’
‘Was he floating in the pit?’ Swift asked. Sarah retreated to the sink and Julie went to stand with her.
‘He must have been. I hadn’t got very far, just scraping at the surface I was. I should have seen him.’ Mal rubbed his eyes. ‘Do you think I did him any damage?’
‘I don’t think there’s any doubt that he’d been dead for quite some time,’ Swift said.
‘Even so, I wouldn’t like to think I hurt him.’
Swift put his hand on Mal’s arm. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘He was way past that.’