Good Bad and Pure Evil: Anglesey Mysteries (The Anglesey Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  ‘Who wants coffee?’ Myra asked, sniffling, and wiping a tear from her eye. Her dark hair was grey at the roots as a result of lockdown. Phil and Rowan declined. ‘Cristy. Do you want a brew?’

  ‘No thanks,’ Cristy said, wiping a tear away with her sleeve. Rowan stood up and hugged her. ‘What are you doing here, did my mum call you too?’

  ‘I was with Phil when she called.’

  ‘She said she didn’t call, Phil.’

  ‘I was there.’ Rowan shrugged. He was lost for words. They had talked openly about the abusive nature of her relationship with Price, and he was fully aware of the physical and emotional damage he’d inflicted on her. They lived in a small community and he knew it would be difficult for them to avoid Price when he eventually got out of prison, but he didn’t think they would have to face it so soon.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Rowan asked.

  ‘I’m okay,’ she said to him. ‘It was just a shock to see him, that’s all.’

  ‘How did he get out so soon?’ Phil asked. He and Rowan were roofers and had their own business. They played rugby for Holyhead and were both stocky and solid. They had beards, their hair was curly and shoulder length, scraped back into a ponytail. To look at them, they could have been brothers.

  ‘Because of COVID-19,’ Cristy said. ‘Apparently, the Home Office used an early release scheme to empty the prisons as much as they could.’

  ‘He’s more dangerous than any virus. How could they let an animal like that out onto the streets?’ Myra asked. ‘They should have thrown away the key. He killed people, everyone knows he did, and they let him back out.’

  ‘They couldn’t prove it, Myra. They never found any bodies,’ Frank Dennis said. ‘He was sentenced for conspiracy to defraud.’

  ‘Why are you defending him?’ Myra asked.

  ‘I’m not defending him. What I’m saying is he wasn’t convicted of murder, so when it comes to looking at parole, they can only look at the fraud conviction. What they think he did is irrelevant.’

  ‘Well, it’s all wrong,’ Myra said. ‘He shouldn’t be allowed back onto the island after what he’s done.’

  ‘It’s all academic,’ Cristy said. ‘He is here and there’s nothing we can do about it.’

  ‘There’s plenty we can do. I could kill the bastard,’ Frank said. ‘That would put an end to it once and for all.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ Phil agreed.

  ‘And mine,’ Rowan mumbled.

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ Cristy said, astonished. ‘Why don’t you all go and kill him together.’

  ‘Someone needs to sort him out.’

  ‘Genius. Jon Price ends up dead and I wonder where the police will look first?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘My dad, my brother, and my boyfriend would probably be high on their list of suspects. All three of you can share a cell while you serve life.’

  ‘I’ll make sure they don’t find him,’ Phil said. ‘No body, no crime.’

  ‘Really?’ Cristy asked, shaking her head. ‘Is that who you are?’

  ‘It is where Price is concerned. He needs to pay for what he did to you,’ Phil said.

  ‘Do you know why I couldn’t tell you what he was doing to me?’ None of them replied. Phil looked at the floor.

  ‘You should have told me,’ her dad said.

  ‘Have a guess why I didn’t tell you. One of you, come on.’ They stayed quiet. ‘I didn’t tell you or ask for your help because he’s a psychopath. He would have hurt you too.’

  ‘He’s just another man,’ Phil said. ‘Hit him in the right place and he’ll break just like anyone else.’

  ‘No, Phil. Listen to me,’ Cristy pleaded. ‘He has no empathy for anyone. He’s a killer and he wouldn’t think twice about hurting all three of you just to hurt me.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘I know you’re angry, but you’re not gangsters. You’re not bad men. You’re good men. Violence is not the answer to this because if you go down that road with Jon Price, he’ll hurt you at best and do it just for the fun of it.’

  ‘I’d like to see him try,’ Phil said.

  ‘He won’t think twice, Phil. Those men involved in the fraud case were gangsters from Liverpool and Manchester. They thought Jon Price couldn’t hurt them, and now they’re gone. No one knows where they are. Don’t underestimate him.’

  ‘I don’t know how he got away with it,’ Myra said. ‘How can you kill people and not be convicted of murder?’

  ‘They couldn’t convict him of murder because he disposed of the bodies in ways that they’ll never be found.’ Cristy sat down and folded her arms. She closed her eyes as if recalling her memories. ‘During those last three days when I was locked in his house, he told me things that you wouldn’t believe. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t believe it was true, but I believed him. I believed every word he said, and that’s why I didn’t tell you what he was doing to me because I know what he’s capable of.’ She stood up and tried to smile. ‘People always ask me why I stayed with him. I stayed because he wouldn’t let me leave. He would have killed me before he saw me with another man.’

  ‘We would have protected you,’ Frank said.

  ‘And who would have protected you?’ Cristy asked. Frank looked at the floor. ‘You couldn’t be with me twenty-four hours a day. No one could have stopped him if he wanted to get to me. I knew the police were building a case against him, and I made the decision to bide my time until they sent him away. I know you’re just protecting me, and I love you for it, but leave Jon Price to his own devices. Drop the tough guy acts, will you?’ An uncomfortable silence followed.

  ‘It’s not an act,’ Phil said, flexing his biceps. ‘I am tough.’ He pulled a stupid face.

  ‘You’re a clown.’ Cristy chuckled. ‘Let’s have that coffee, shall we, Mum?’

  The atmosphere was tense. Frank looked like he was going to explode. Myra went into the kitchen, muttering to herself. Phil may have made light of what she said, but she knew her brother and she could sense he was steaming inside. He always had a slow burn before he exploded. Ever since they were kids, she could spot when to stop annoying him. In contrast, Rowan looked like he was out of his depth.

  ‘I’m going to tell Colwyn Gallagher that Price approached you in Tesco,’ Frank said. ‘I know you don’t want a fuss, but the police need to know. Col is the one they send out when someone breaches bail or an injunction.’

  ‘Col Gallagher is a knob,’ Phil said. ‘Jon Price won’t pay any attention to him.’

  ‘He might be a knob but he has a uniform and a warrant card and I’m sure if Price has been let out on early release, he’ll have to adhere to restrictions, especially the injunction,’ Frank said. His face was ruddy and lined with deep wrinkles. Frank clipped his grey hair close to his head. Every year at sea on the deep trawlers was etched on his face. ‘It’s up to the police to enforce it but mark my words, if they don’t, I’ll have that bastard. I don’t care how dangerous he is. He needs to stay away from you.’

  ‘If you tell Col Gallagher, he’ll go and warn Jon not to come near me,’ Cristy said. ‘I know how his mind works. It will be like a red flag to a bull. I don’t want him provoked unnecessarily. It’s been seven years since he went to jail and I know at least three women from the island who have been visiting him inside and plastered it all over Facebook how much they love him.’

  ‘Bloody idiots,’ Myra said.

  ‘I was one of those idiots, Mum,’ Cristy said. ‘He’s a good-looking man and very charming when he wants something. Let them find out who he is in their own time. He will be distracted by them for a while at least. It might have been a genuine coincidence that I bumped into him. He might not give me a second thought.’

  Myra came back into the room with a tray of cups. ‘I wonder if all the others were released too,’ she said.

  ‘Do you mean the ones who went down with Price?’ Frank asked.

  ‘Yes. How many of them went down with him?’

  ‘Five,’
Phil said. ‘I heard they were sent to different jails. Half of them have been accused of grassing on Price and the others were all pointing fingers at each other about missing money.’

  ‘I heard that too,’ Rowan said. ‘The police reported recovering over three million in money and shares from a bank account in his property business name. Rumours have it there should have been a lot more than that. Someone helped themselves before the police found it.’

  ‘Good. I hope they turn on each other. If they all come home at the same time, there could be fireworks,’ Phil said. ‘There are some grudges to be sorted out. Paul Sutton and his work mates testified against him.’

  ‘They were all tradesmen, weren’t they?’ Myra asked.

  ‘Most of them. Some were in the horse trade.’

  ‘A few of Sutton’s men were involved in the fraud. Most of them testified against Price to save themselves,’ Rowan said.

  ‘I can’t see Sutton bowing down to Price,’ Frank said. ‘I was at sea with his old man. He was as tough as old boots, scared of no man.’

  ‘Maybe Sutton will do the job for us,’ Phil said. ‘Whatever happens, Price will have his hands full.’

  ‘Let’s hope so.’ Cristy nodded and sipped her coffee. ‘Now, can we talk about something else?’ She was projecting the image of a calm exterior, but inside, she was terrified. Terrified for herself and terrified for her family. Jon Price was more dangerous than any of them realised.

  Chapter 6

  Father Creegan had been awake for three hours, which had gone by in the blink of an eye. The first person he saw when he awoke was a uniformed police officer. The terrible memories were coming back to him in flashes. He wasn’t certain what had happened. Alan looked through the glass porthole in the door and noted his eyes were open.

  ‘He’s awake,’ Alan said. He turned to the junior doctor who was looking after the priest. ‘Can we speak to him?’

  ‘He was confused and distressed when he woke up. He’ll be a little groggy as the sedative wears off.’

  ‘How is he?’ Alan asked.

  ‘When he came to, we put him through a quick MOT and told him that physically, he’s fine, but the shock will take time to settle. We need to keep him on a drip to rehydrate him and we need to monitor his heart and blood pressure for a few days because of his age.’

  ‘Has he said anything about what happened to him?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Not much. One of the nurses told him that several of his parishioners have called to ask how he is and if they could visit. They’ve been told they can’t because of the virus. Father Creegan was disappointed but said he understood. He also said he was surprised detectives were waiting to speak to him already. He thought you might give him time to recover his composure.’

  ‘We like to get them when they’re still groggy,’ Alan said, seriously. ‘We can get them to admit to all sorts that way.’

  ‘Really?’ the doctor asked, frowning.

  ‘Not really. It was a joke,’ Alan said. ‘But we do need to talk to him.’

  ‘I see. A joke,’ the doctor said, smiling.

  ‘Yes. Between us, a joke,’ Alan said. He winked. ‘You look like the type who can keep a secret. We need to be careful you see.’

  The doctor looked confused. ‘I’ve mentioned the bump on the back of his head and explained the symptoms of concussion to him. He’ll feel the tug of stitches beneath the dressing but he should be fine to talk to you but not for too long and don’t make him anxious.’

  ‘We’ll do our best, doctor,’ Alan said, opening the door. ‘Thank you for your help.’ Kim and Alan entered the room and the uniformed officer remained outside. ‘Father Creegan,’ Alan said in greeting.

  ‘Is there a reason why a constable has been stationed outside my room?’ the priest asked, concern in his eyes. ‘Am I in danger?’

  ‘A firearm was involved in the incident,’ Alan said. ‘So, we have to use belt and braces to be on the safe side. I’m DI Alan Williams and this is DS Davies,’ Alan said. Alan watched the priest studying them, looking from one to the other. His expression was blank, his eyes furtive and curious. They were watery green and deep wrinkles spread from the corners. His lips were thin and reptilian, and the skin on his neck hung like a turkey’s throat. ‘We need to ask you some questions about what happened at the vicarage.’

  ‘Yes, of course you do. That’s fine. It’s to be expected under the circumstances although everything is a little hazy.’

  ‘There’s no rush. Take your time.’

  ‘I’ve been trying to remember things as they happened but it’s all such a blur.’

  ‘Let’s start with what you do remember,’ Alan said. ‘How long were you in that chair?’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Yes. Can you remember what day it happened?’

  ‘Goodness me. Let me think,’ Creegan said. He closed his eyes. ‘Of course. It was Sunday.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes. Sundays are quite important to a priest, inspector.’ Alan smiled but felt the barb in the comment, nonetheless. The priest had taken an instant dislike to him, and the feeling was mutual. ‘The church has been closed to my congregation, but not to me. I spent most of the day there and went home to have some tea about four o’clock.’ The priest checked his watch, instinctively. ‘From what I can remember, it happened shortly after I arrived home.’

  ‘From the church?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Who was he?’ Alan asked. The priest looked surprised by the question.

  ‘I have absolutely no idea,’ Creegan said. His eyes were difficult to read. ‘I didn’t see him, you see,’ he added. ‘Not while his head was intact, anyway.’

  ‘How did he get there?’ Alan asked. ‘Did you stop anywhere on the way home?’

  ‘No. Not that I can remember.’

  ‘Did you stop or didn’t you?’ Alan asked. ‘It could be important.’

  ‘I didn’t stop.’

  ‘Your car was in the garage to the rear of the house,’ Alan said. ‘Did you park it there?’

  ‘If it was in the garage, I must have, but I can’t say I remember doing that.’

  ‘Do you always garage it?’

  ‘Not always. I can’t remember putting it away, but we do these mundane things automatically, don’t we?’

  ‘We do. Take your time. Tell us what you can remember after you got home.’

  ‘I know I was in the bathroom and there was a noise behind me,’ Father Creegan said, touching his bottom lip as if in deep thought. ‘Then someone hit me hard on the back of my head and I must have passed out. When I woke up, I was tied to a chair in my bedroom and there was a body sitting in the chair opposite me.’ He closed his eyes and shook his head as if the memory disturbed him. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s all been such a shock. The poor soul had committed suicide right there in front of me.’

  ‘Did you recognise his voice?’

  ‘No. I didn’t hear his voice.’

  ‘He didn’t speak to you?’ Kim asked, frowning. ‘When he was tying you to the chair.’

  ‘He may have done, but I was unconscious, you see,’ Creegan said, smiling as if he was talking to a child. His teeth were yellowed, definitely a lifelong smoker. ‘I certainly don’t recall him saying anything to me. My memory is a blank.’ He looked confused. ‘Don’t you know who he is?’

  ‘Not yet. There was no ID on him,’ Alan said. He sensed the priest was lying. ‘DNA and dental records will identify him. We don’t have the results back yet.’ The priest nodded that he understood. He looked saddened by the news. ‘Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you, Father?’ Alan asked.

  ‘No. Absolutely not.’ Creegan shook his head. ‘I’ve never given anyone reason to dislike me. I try to help people as much as I can. It’s all part of the job,’ Creegan said, smiling warmly. Alan didn’t like religion, and he didn’t like priests. There was something sickly about this one; something fake.

&nbsp
; ‘Think carefully,’ Alan said. ‘Think back as far as you can. Is there anyone from your past who could bear a grudge against you? Even if you think it might be inconsequential. The slightest thing could help.’

  ‘Someone who could bear a grudge against me personally?’ Creegan held his chin between his finger and thumb. ‘I can’t think of anyone,’ Creegan said, shaking his head. ‘Could someone have something against the church or God himself, absolutely yes? Hundreds of disillusioned souls bear grudges, but not against me, personally. Surely this is a random act against the church?’

  ‘We don’t think this is random. It looks to be more personal than an attack on the church,’ Kim said.

  ‘You think it’s personal because of what?’

  ‘They chose you and they chose your home to do it, not your church.’

  ‘I see. If you look at the hard facts like that, it does appear to be personal.’ The priest nodded, deep in thought. ‘I’ll admit that. I know where this is heading,’ Creegan said. The priest wagged his forefinger. His expression became stern. ‘I’m not a stupid man. I can see how this looks.’

  ‘How does it look?’ Alan asked.

  ‘A Catholic priest, a naked man commits suicide in his bedroom. It all points to me being Jimmy Saville in a dog collar.’

  ‘We’re not saying that,’ Alan said.

  ‘Really?’ Creegan asked. ‘Forgive me, but I think you are. Does it look like I was interfering with choirboys when I was younger?’

  ‘We’re asking you if there’s anyone with a grudge,’ Alan said. ‘That’s all.’

  ‘You think I’ve done something wrong in my past. That is how it looks,’ Creegan said, looking from one to the other. ‘Be honest with me. To you it does, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Sometimes we have to take things at face value. If it walks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks, then it’s a duck. We have to ask some awkward questions,’ Alan said.