MURDER IN PEMBROKESHIRE an absolutely gripping crime mystery full of twists (Tyrone Swift Detective by GRETTA MULROONEY (free reads .txt) 📗

Swift wasn’t going down the road of empathising with a killer. ‘No idea. Did you ask Afan to meet you on the coast path?’

‘That’s right. Away from the community, by Carreg Trefin. A place to talk and sort stuff out. I just wanted a bit of time to keep things under wraps, try and find a way out of selling up. I reckoned I could talk to Bruno and Bryn in confidence, find a resolution. But Afan was so bloody preachy and insistent. He said it wasn’t fair on everyone, conducting negotiations behind their backs. He wanted to call a meeting of the whole community to discuss it.’ He sighed.

‘Afan and his bloody principles,’ Swift nudged.

‘Exactly. If he could just have backed off a bit . . . I’d been mending a planter and I had the screwdriver in my pocket. Suddenly, I was fed up of people telling me what to do. Nag, nag, nag. Voices all the time, badgering me. I love this place — I have done since the moment I set eyes on it. It called to me then and it still does. Bruno might have a blood connection to it, but I have a spiritual one. Jasmine takes front of house with her harp playing, but it’s my heartstrings that are plucked when I contemplate leaving here. I had my wife calling the shots at home, Bryn and Bruno ganging up on us, Afan on his high horse, Giles forever contacting us and bleating on. He’s an adult, why can’t he get himself out of his own mess? Why should I be uprooted because he’s made bad decisions? I was furious. This is my home, but it was as if I had no say, no importance. Something went pop in my skull. I went for Afan, shoved the screwdriver into him just to shut him up. We were near the cairn. I dragged him in there. And left him. He’d dropped his phone on the ground. I knew you were arriving, so I sent you the email. I’m not even sure why I did that, because I didn’t really care what happened. Then I came home.’

Swift was trying to link events and people. ‘Did you throw away the screwdriver and Afan’s phone?’

‘No. I chucked them on the ground. I thought of jumping into the sea at that point, but I couldn’t do it.’

Swift had most of the pieces now, but not all of them. He said to Jasmine, ‘You gave your husband an alibi for that time frame.’

She shivered and clutched the collar of the dressing gown. ‘I was asleep. I usually am around that time. I had no reason to think that Peter wasn’t here. Oh, Peter, what have you done?’

He said weakly, ‘Plenty. But I didn’t kill Caris. If I had, I’d confess.’

Peter had nothing to lose now, no reason to lie. Swift realised who Caris’s killer must be. A sudden alarm seized him as he considered the consequences of her body being found. He didn’t want to leave the Merchants, but he had no choice.

‘The police will be back here very soon,’ he said. ‘I have to go. Stay here, in this room, until DS Spencer arrives.’

He dashed to his car, hoping that he was wrong about what might take place. If he was right, he prayed he wouldn’t be too late.

* * *

Swift coasted the car quietly near to Cuddfan. There were no lights on in the house but as he stepped onto the path, he heard a faint yelp. Then silence again.

He edged forward to the studio, approaching it from one side, past an overflowing rain barrel. There was a strong smell of rotting vegetation and the ground squelched beneath his boots. He saw a dim light inside. A high scream and then another pierced the air and he moved quickly to the door, taking in the grim scene at a glance.

Guy Brinkworth had Elinor by the throat and was slamming her head against a wall. Blood streamed from her mouth onto his hands. He could just hear Guy yelling, ‘You stupid, stupid bitch! Do you realise what you’ve done! Fucking poking your nose in! Why can’t you just shut up?’ Elinor tried to twist away but Guy leaned in, pinning her back against the wall. Swift saw a shadow to one side of the door. Frankie lay dead on the floor, a drill bit sticking from his throat. His eyes were open and glassy.

Swift tried the door handle, but it was locked. He hammered on the wood, shouting, ‘Stop! The police are on their way! Guy, stop! Open the door!’

Guy glanced behind him for a second. His expression was feral and intent. He seemed to stare through Swift, and then turned back to attacking his wife. Swift took a few paces back and aimed a couple of kicks to the side of the door lock. The wood gave way, and he aimed another hard kick with his heel. The door burst open and Swift was inside. Guy released Elinor and she slumped forward. He spun round and faced Swift. His hair was loose, streaming around his face and he was pale, his eyes burning.

Swift panted, ‘Stop, Guy. It’s over. Stop now.’

‘I’ll say when it’s over. I’ll say!’

Guy launched himself forward. As Swift dodged, his wet foot slipped on the wooden floor and he went down, hitting his head on the side of a display cabinet. Guy was on top of him, hands around his throat, squeezing. Swift’s vision blurred and the light grew dimmer. He went deliberately limp, but Guy tightened his grip and the blood pounded in Swift’s head. He heard Elinor scream and as he passed out, he was aware of a bang. He imagined that thunder had rolled into the room.

* * *

Swift had never been