Chapter 7 HOME SHORES
Touching eleven, morning sun filtered through the trees lining Brynmill Park, waking up the detached three-bedroomed house sat on the furthest bend of Averil Vivian Grove.
With the biting wind stirring dead leaves around a BMW and Nissan, Gray stood on Jason’s driveway, taking in the home under daylight as crime scene tape rattled behind him. A white tent leading into the home stopped neighbours from looking in, but the silence in the close called out how shock kept most away from facing the morning and the horrors found next door.
Gray had been here for a while, walking the kitchen, the lounge, bathroom, bedroom, then through to the conservatory where photos he’d taken caught a stack of schoolbooks piled on the table. As the neighbour’s car had pulled into their driveway, a security light allowed him to walk the garden, all the plants and flowers given the same grey coloured grief as if they knew they were on their own. Even the shed door rested back on a new lock as if unhappy with its part in everything. Gray had taken photos: the angle of the shovel knocked on the floor, cans knocked off the units. Whoever had searched inside had made it frantic, fast.
For all the feelings he knew he lacked, so much bled through into his skin from the scene itself.
The only street CCTV came from the park, but that faced away from the property, offering protection for families playing on there, but not much beyond that. Gray hadn’t been surprised. The Council operated the system around Swansea, but they were mostly reserved for in around the major towns. Jason’s home was too rural for that.
The soft rattle of milk bottles came from behind, calling out a late mid-morning delivery off the milk van, but Gray focused on Jason’s neighbour’s house. The Bishop’s was the only one to have CCTV, and the camera angled itself partway over Jason’s drive.
Watching the milkman make his way up Bishop’s drive, Gray gave a sniff. He already had a copy of the CCTV on his phone and had yet to watch it, but he knew the Welsh, even when it came to talking to police.
A nod came Gray’s way off the milkman as Gray slipped under the crime scene tape, and he offered a small one back as he took the walk up Bishop’s driveway.
The camera followed his movements, so was motion-sensor activated. Good.
He kept his knock on the door light, but from how the blind had shifted as he’d started his walk up the drive, someone kept a close eye on movement next door.
The door came open, but it stayed safely latched on the chain, and a man in factory coveralls looking as though he’d worked overtime on his ten-till-six-in-the-morning night shift peered at him through the gap. This was who Gray had heard pull up an hour ago.
“Su’mae.” Gray offered over his ID. “Are you able to answer a few questions, Mr Bishop?” He kept to North Wales dialect throughout, and after a moment, a narrow of eye and check at his ID, the door came open and he was waved in. A hot cup of tea sat on the coffee table as he was led into a spacious living room, and Bishop glanced over his shoulder.
“Get you one? It’s too cold to be standing out there this morning, right?”
It surprised Gray to hear North Welsh come back at him, but that would only help. There’d be no North and South Wales divide. No doubt a call had long since gone back to whichever policeman had left his calling card for Bishop to use if he spotted anything… unusual outside the Tucker’s, which Gray’s unmarked car would have been. But now he seemed more relaxed since opening his door and taking North Wales talk into his own property. “Hm. A coffee, please.”
Bishop picked up his mug and thumbed behind him to the open plan kitchen, and Gray followed him through. “Where in North Wales do you come from?” asked Bishop. “I’m Trearddur Bay area.” He winced. “The really cold part.”
Gray smiled. “Betws-y-Coed.” He lied, but then this was personal talk. “The even colder part.” That wasn’t a lie.
“Ouch.” Bishop winced as he put the kettle on to boil. “And I thought I was the only farm boy in the city.” He made Gray a coffee and handed it over as a frown crept in. “Still can’t believe what happened between Jase and Amanda.” His look went upstairs. It was the look of a father and lover, where worry went their way first, his last. “I’m glad the kids were at a party with the wife.”
Gray rested against the unit and pulled out his phone. “You handed over the CCTV to my colleagues? Will you go through it with me? Tell me if you spot anything out of place?”
“Oh, of course.” Bishop came in next to him, almost “one farm boy to another” close as Gray pressed play.
“Thursday…. I’d been called in early for a twelve-hour stint at the factory, so six til six.” Bishop frowned at the phone as the footage started playing. “Damn hot that day. Jason was in the garden, Amanda the conservatory, I think. Sounded happy enough.”
Gray gave him a look. “Was that normal for them?”
Bishop took a sip of tea. “Being in the garden, yes. Or more Amanda trying to get Jase out of it. They argued like most of us, but they argued like an old couple who’d spent a lifetime together, where they knew neither would walk away because tensions were relieved, lived, then forgotten as soon as the argument was done.” He offered a soft smile. “Nothing like the Rhodes four doors down. But, well… young and in their twenties, they are.”
Gray offered a smile, took a sip of coffee. “Did you ever catch a scent of weed? Any other drug drifting over the fence?” Chemicals in the shed were mostly those used to mix pesticides, but addicts got creatively destructive at the best of times.
“Erm.” Bishop frowned. “Go back a few years, yeah. Not lately, though. More so with the weed than anything.”
Gray nodded. “Good to know. But here, with the feed, the police only received a seventy-hour period.”
“That was all that was requested from my security provider.” He tugged out his phone. “Do you want the name of the app I use and my details to access it? It should give you coverage for as long as I’ve had it installed, roughly two years. Usually activity triggers push notifications, recording, and microphones, but it was all normal that day.”
“Yes, thank you.” He offered a smile. “That would be helpful.”
Bishop wrote it down on a slip of paper and handed it over.
Gray slipped it in his wallet and set the footage on fast play.
“Here.” Bishop pointed at the timer. “Amanda came home around four like most days. I’d just seen the kids off.”
Gray shifted the feed through to four o’clock. Amanda’s Nissan pulled in, and a woman got out a moment later, only to go to the boot and pull out an armful of books. No one was with her, but that didn’t discount the mark being inside. Forensics had found no trace of fingerprints. In fact the lack of DNA in the property despite bone marrow obviously being taken said the mark could have been there for a long time before it was too late to notice.
That was damn good skill, leaving no DNA.
“Jase gets back usually around five. But I wasn’t quite sure that day because I was answering the call to go in to work.”
Gray shifted the feed. A BMW pulled up next to Amanda’s, and Jase got out. He was a big man, easily ready to give Raif a run for his money, and the contrast between him and Monique was startling. A smile went the Nissan’s way, then the front door came open and Amanda went over to him. Something was said, a rest of hand off Amanda to Jason’s abs, a dip down to pick up a book, forcing Amanda’s bag to slip off her shoulder and drop in the car before they both headed in. Normal actions. Loving. Any close couple greeting each other from a day’s work.
“The last the CCTV saw anyone was about 5.30.”
True to form, Jason made his way to his car. Bishop had a good memory, but Gray knew details would be relived for a long while yet.
On the feed, Jason did a quick 360, and Gray missed it the first time but caught the second streak across his path of something that missed Jason by mere inches. He froze the footage, then zoomed in.
A stone?
A pebble. The angle was wrong to look like it had fallen from Bishop’s or Jason’s roof, maybe the house next to Bishop. This looked like it had been thrown. Hard.
Stone throwers. Gray cocked a brow and stored that away for a moment, then pressed play again.
Jason’s look rested towards the road, but the CCTV footage didn’t follow what took his attention from the roof and caught his eye. Not unusual as only half of Jason’s property was covered.
“Didn’t you say audio was triggered on activity?”
“Hmm? Yes.” Bishop leaned in closer. “Is he speaking there?”
When Gray pressed play, no audio came through, but his body language called out interaction. Yeah, he was talking there. Odd how the CCTV didn’t pick up the audio and the stone throwing, but then the latter would have given a deliberate time cut that would be noticeable. Audio issues could be explained, but cutting the stone footage would have been a deliberate act. Those he would need to check out. “Any idea who he spoke to? Who comes and goes at this time?”
Bishop shrugged. “Just at the side of his is one of three access ways to the park. Kids are always coming and going, harassed parents too.”
Handy that the park was close for Bishop and his kids, but he could understand why the CCTV wasn’t angled its way. Gray would check on council CCTV at this time to see who came and went on the park instead.
Jason was also side on to the camera, facing away, so no lipreading could be taken from it. Whatever was said was brief, and Jason turned back to the car.
A touch on the handle saw him pull back and shake his hand before sucking his fingers, then he seemed taken with the handle for a moment before looking around the floor. He picked something up and studied it before taking it over to the set of bins and tossing it in the garden waste.
Nothing was mentioned in the initial postmortem report about marks on Jason’s fingers. Whatever had happened, must have been too small.
Gray slipped the phone away and took another sip of coffee.
“Have you noticed anyone around here that shouldn’t have been over the past few months?” he asked eventually.
Bishop shook his head. “Like I said to the other coppers, kids… parents and their kids with the park. There’s always ones from the next estate coming over. But outside of that?” He shrugged. “Just the usual: delivery drivers from Amazon and the likes. Jason was pretty hands-on with most things, so repairs he did to his own and helped me with mine.”
Gray placed his mug behind him. “Okay. Thanks, and for the coffee. The chill really isn’t helping this morning.” From his wallet, he took a card with just a name and number on. “Can you give me a call if you think of anything else? Something usually comes back when you least expect.”
“Sure.” Bishop took the card and slipped it on the windowsill. “Sorry I couldn’t be much help.” He frowned. “But they really were a lovely couple, and with a bairn on the way….”
That made Gray pause. “Jason told you?”
Bishop gave a shake of head. “Amanda told my missus. They were pretty close. It’s knocked her about, especially over the baby.”
“Did Jason know?”
Bishop smiled sadly. “No. Amanda had arranged with me and the wife for us to go around theirs on Saturday whilst they were out. Do the whole surprise thing.” His smile fell. “The bunting’s still in our shed.”
Interesting. The pesticide in the stomach didn’t seem to target a foetus. “Okay, thank you.” Gray slipped his wallet away. “Give me a call if you remember anything else.”
“Definitely.” Bishop took the hint and headed back to the front door. “Let me know if you need anything whilst you’re around there.”
“Thank you, I will,” said Gray.
“Oh, wait. There was the singing.”
Gray glanced back at Bishop. “Singing?”
He stood looking up at the bathroom window, and he cocked a sad smile. “Hmm, usually I’d have a word with him over playing his playlists a little loud, but it was quiet that day other than him belting it out in the shower.” Bishop looked Gray’s way, thoughtful. “‘Every Breath You Take’, by The Police, if I remember right.” He shrugged. “He was an opera guy, so it just seemed… odd for his usual tastes.”
Gray nodded and made a mental note as the door closed behind Bishop. Then he made his way back under the crime scene tape, the brown waste bin in the corner his focus. After slipping on his gloves and opening the door to the garage, he wheeled the bin inside. Collection came once every month, and the bin didn’t feel heavy enough to gather enough foliage for more than a week’s worth. With Jason being a botanist and most of his greenery taken care of in the compost bins he’d seen around the back, it meant this bin was only for general cleanup.
After closing the door to the garage and laying a plastic dust sheet on the floor, Gray tipped the contents out.
Twigs, some weed clippings Jason no doubt knew the names off by heart, a mixture of dust and dirt, but not much more.
Gray shifted a touch through the dirt, and a thorn caught on his glove.
He held it up to the light. About the size of a fingernail, sharp. As Gray shifted the dirt some more, six more sat amongst the debris.
He slipped the thorns inside an evidence bag and got to his feet.
For a moment, his look went around the garage, how the dark edges were chased away by the light, then he headed into the lounge. The Echo device sat close to the landline, and Gray looked at it for a moment.
“Alexa, replay last song.”
“Nessun dorma” from the final act of Giacomo Puccini's opera drifted through, and Gray tilted his head. That wasn’t “Every Breath You Take.”
“Hmm.” Gray asked Alexa to stop, then shut the property down and headed out. As he made it to one of the cars, his shoe caught a pebble, and he leaned down to get a look at it. Jason was too garden proud to leave stray pebbles around, and Gray picked it up with another evidence bag, then eased up, looking at the direction he’d seen the pebble thrown on the CCTV.
The house next to Bishop’s.
Slipping the bagged pebble in his pocket, he headed on over, at first doing a walk past the bay window, then to a pebbled feature housing a small fountain. Gray toed at the pebbles, then glanced back at the house. Blinds were closed, and his first ring of the bell was met with quiet. It was too late in the morning for them to be sleeping in, so either they’d gone to work and not aired the home or—
“Holiday.” Bishop came running over, keys in hand. “They’re away for two weeks, the Carvers.” He struggled to catch his breath. “I’m meant to be on house-sitting duty.” He offered Gray the keys. “Do you need to look around?”
“Just the perimeter, if that’s okay? Could you give them a call to ask their permission?”
“Of course.” Bishop turned away for a moment, tugging out his phone as Gray knelt and picked up one of the pebbles. He slipped it in a fresh evidence bag, then wrote Carver on the sample bag.
“You’re good to go,” said Bishop, coming back over. “I let them know yesterday what happened.” He winced. “It’s worrying them that you want to have a look around theirs, but the police have already said they might need to talk to them when they get back anyway.”
“Thank you. They will,” said Gray, and he nodded to the gate.
“Right.” Bishop let himself in, and a few moments later, the back gate opened up. “I’ll… just give the nod my way back at mine, and I’ll lockup once you’re done.”
Bishop knew when to back off, and Gray thanked him for it as he nodded. He let him head off, then he pushed on through the gate. A small alleyway with a few weeds welcomed him in, but after that, a garden as loved as Jason’s opened up. Gray’s interest stayed with the house, more the walkway around it, and he paced back and forth, eventually coming to rest by the drainpipe. He looked up to the roof, the access the pipe gave, then back down to the floor.
In amongst dried vomit, three pebbles from the front yard made a home there.
Tilting his head slightly, Gray crouched and took out an evidence bottle and bag.
The stones went in the bag, and he scraped at the ground for an emesis sample, then held up the stones to study them against the sun.
Stone throwers. He’d grown up with the best when it came to Light’s mother, and she’d learned from Gray how to throw and do the worst damage.
Those thrown at Tucker had missed.
Maybe deliberately? Maybe not.
But someone had been up there, watching, and they had a conscience, one deep enough to get them vomiting and throwing a warning Jason’s way. Maybe. DNA tests would hopefully lead to whoever had been here to see if that were the case. The drainpipe became his focus, and he took time working a section free, catching a smudged handprint. No footprints were around the drainpipe, but he took a few photos all the same.
Samples taken, he headed out and closed the gate behind him, sending a small nod Bishop’s way, then headed for his own car.
He’d spend the next few hours at MI5, testing the thorns and other samples he’d taken, checking the latter over DNA against the database to see if a match could be found. He’d also run checks on the security system’s audio. The question was still there: how had they known Jason would leave at that particular time to go to the car if the thorns had been their main spike point? They must have had listening devices in the home. Gray had done a full sweep with his own equipment to check: the house had been clean. But that just meant they had a good cleanup crew.
Gray gave a hard sigh. They were definitely organised.
As he turned out of the road, a call came through on his personal phone.
“Are you heading back, boss?” said Ray.
“Not until later tonight. Problems?”
“Yeah,” Ray said quietly. “It could wait, but I’d rather discuss it whilst the manor is empty. It’s to do with Jack.”
Fuck. Secrets. Yeah. Gray had a few of his own. “On my way.”
A call to Shaun to let him know he was done and that he could tell Monique came next, mostly to let her know investigations were ongoing of a third-party involvement influencing Jason’s actions, but also to stress that this was confidential and not to be discussed. He’d also recommended that Shaun assign a press liaison officer to her and her family in case this broke on the news. But it left Gray tapping at the steering wheel.
Jan was around Jason’s family, a family who already been touched by one of Gray’s own. He knew Jan wouldn’t like it, but once Shaun told Monique, Jan would be denied any contact with her until this was all sorted.
Gray sighed heavily, already knowing the backlash that was going to cause.