Page 47 of A Game of Lies

Ffion looks around the empty cottage, careful not to touch anything. Outside, two local officers have arrived and their conversation drifts through the open door.

‘Creepy, isn’t it? I couldn’t live here, not on my own.’

‘Not exactly on her own, not with all these animals.’

‘That’s what makes it creepy! What evenisthat?’

‘I think it might be a polecat.’

‘And that is one ugly dog.’

Ffion lets out an indignant huff on Dave’s behalf. It’s no wonder the lad has issues.

Don’t panic, I’m fine, reads the text from Angharad. Elen had forwarded it to Ffion’s phone after she’d called her.But can you ask Dr Alwen to come? I’ll explain everything later. It’s urgent.

Angharad eschews modern medicine. Her kitchen shelves are lined with herbs she swears will cure all ills, and Ffion knows full well what she thinks of the town’s medical practice. The only reason she’d call for a doctor is if she were desperate (which she surely wasn’t if she told Elen she wasfine) and if that were the case why hadn’t she called Dr Alwen herself?

Ffion checks the stairs and hall for marks, or smears of blood from the cut on Angharad’s head. There’s nothing there. But the moment Ffion enters the tiny living room, her nerve-endings jangle. There are two empty mugs, one on either side of the sofa. A kitchen chair lies on its side in the centre of the room, a laptop beside it.

Ffion picks up the laptop. The machine has gone to sleep, but, when Ffion presses a button with a sleeve-covered finger, the screen springs into life. The frozen logo ofYoung Productionsappears – the final frame of last night’s episode ofExposure.

There’s no doubt in Ffion’s mind that Ryan Francis was here with Angharad last night.

The question is: where is he now?

SEVENTEEN

SATURDAY | LEO

When Leo arrives at Angharad’s cottage, CSI are packing up.

‘We’ve swabbed and lifted prints from two coffee cups.’ A woman in tortoiseshell glasses pulls off her paper suit and balls it into a bag. ‘Your colleague found blood on the corner of the table in the living room, so we’ve swabbed that, too, and taken photos.’

‘How soon can you have a comparison with the MisPer’s forensics?’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Ffion looks up from Angharad’s kitchen table when Leo comes in. ‘I haven’t sat down in almost seven hours,’ she says defensively.

‘Good morning to you, too.’ Leo pulls out the chair opposite her and sits down. Just as he puts his phone on the table, it rings, Gayle’s number flashing on the screen. He switches it to silent and ignores Ffion’s curious glance.

‘Why are you here?’ she says. ‘Angharad’s assault is a North Wales job.’

‘Committed by a suspect currently missing fromourside of the border,’ Leo says mildly.

‘I suppose you think we don’t know how to manage a crime scene. Because of course round our way it’s all sheep and—’

‘Ffion?’

She glares at him.

‘What’s going on?’

‘A GBH, if I can swing it, although most likely an ABH, almost certainly downgraded to a common assault once it gets to—’

‘With us,’ Leo says quietly. ‘What’s going on with us?’

The ensuing silence is broken by the whine of an animal in one of Angharad’s pens. Leo wonders who will feed them, in Angharad’s absence. When Ffion finally looks up from the table, she’s biting the inside of her cheek. Dark circles ring her eyes. Leo decides now is probably not the time to mention that her jumper is inside out.

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