Page 32 of A Game of Lies

‘You took that well,’ Ceri said, nodding at Efan and his mates, who were roaring with laughter.

‘He’s not worth getting wound up over.’ Ffion picked up her drink, only to put it down when she realised she was shaking.

‘He needs putting in his place, he does,’ Ceri said darkly.

It was Mam who told Ffion, a few days later, that Efan Howells had come a cropper with next door’s prize black bull. ‘Someone let him into the top field and he charged at Efan,’ she said. ‘He only just got out in time.’

Ceri claimed to know nothing. ‘It’s karma, is all,’ she said, but Ffion saw a glint in the postwoman’s eyes.

Enough with the praying!Ffion hears now, as Miles replays the clip.

‘He always has it that loud.’ Caleb appears at her side. ‘Says he needs toimmersehimself in it.’ He opens his mouth, then closes it, before repeating the movement.

‘What’s with the guppy impression?’

‘I just …’

‘Spit it out, mate.’

‘Well … isn’t it against the law to promise someone something, then not do it?’ His expression morphs between hurt and anger. ‘Because Miles promised I’d have a production assistant credit, and then he gave me some bollocks about the graphics going wrong, but it wasn’t there last night either and—’

‘Caleb.’ Ffion touches his arm. ‘I totally get why this is frustrating, but I’m a detective, not an agony aunt.’

‘But it can’t be legal!’

‘You need a union or something, not the police.’

‘He promised,’ Caleb says, in a growl that is almost a threat.

‘Give it up, mate.’ Ffion walks away. Caleb’s on a hiding to nothing. Miles Young doesn’t strike her as a man who keeps his promises.

ELEVEN

THURSDAY | LEO

In the centre of the camp, flames lick at the fresh logs Lucas just added to the fire. The air is crisp on the mountain, and the smoky haze above the flames puts Leo in mind of November nights, bonfires and sparklers. Only the canopy of green around them reminds him it’s almost summer.

Leo and George are examining the damaged cameras when Lucas appears. Owen immediately rounds on the vicar. ‘You were told to stay in the tent.’

‘We will, we will.’ Lucas’s calm manner invites confidences, and Leo wonders whether he’s the sort of priest who takes confession. ‘If we let the fire go out, though, it won’t be hot enough to cook on later.’

Reluctantly, Owen lets him continue. He stands guard by the fire as Lucas works, supposedly to prevent Leo or George imparting information ‘from the outside world’ that might influence the show. The cameraman is Miles’s henchman, Leo realises – self-appointed or otherwise – and, judging by his smirk as he frog-marches Lucas back to the other contestants, he enjoys it a little too much. In contrast, Dario hangs back, seemingly uneasy with the situation – or perhaps with the police presence.

Beside the fire is the pillar that holds the small metal box containing the contestants’ secrets. Created from a section of tree trunk with the bark removed, it’s buried so deep in the ground it may as well be set in concrete. Galvanised staples and a heavy-duty padlock secure the box, which Leo now sees is more like a small safe, to the top of the plinth.

‘Look at these marks.’ George points to a series of gouges around the staples. Similar-sized scratches appear around the lock of the safe. ‘Someone tried to force the box open, and, when that didn’t work, they tried to lever it off the base.’

Leo looks around. ‘How many cameras have been smashed?’

‘Three,’ Owen says. ‘All the ones pointing at the fire.’ He indicates the first lot of damage, showing George the circle of broken glass beneath the unit. ‘Whoever did it knew exactly where they were – they stayed completely out of shot. All you can see is something hurtling towards the screen, then it goes black.’

‘What time did it happen?’

‘The first one went at eleven minutes past two this morning.’

‘How easy would it have been for someone to come into camp from the outside?’ George looks at Dario, who flushes.

‘I can’t be everywhere at once! A walk around the perimeter on the hour, that’s what Miles said, and even that’s against my human rights – how am I expected to function properly on half an hour’s kip here and there?’

---