The Cold Light of Mourning (17 page)

Twenty-four

P
enny sipped the last of her wine and shook her head as she set the glass down.

“That’s a lot to take in,” she said. “So what you’re saying is that Meg Wynne Thompson was killed twice, that either the strangulation or the blows to the head would have been enough. And then there’s the needle. What to make of that?”

Davies nodded. “Exactly. I had a word about this with my nephew Martin,” he said. “You know, the one who emigrated to join the RCMP. Martin’s been sent to America to take a course in profiling and he told me that overkill like this can mean a couple of things.

“First, it sometimes means that the killer hasn’t killed before, so doesn’t know what he’s doing—doesn’t know how much force he needs to use to get the job done, so to speak. Second, the frenzied nature of it probably means that the killing was personal. So for some reason, Meg Wynne had antagonized the killer to the point where there’s so much emotion embedded in the attack that whoever killed her used far more force than he needed to.”

Penny nodded. “Right. I can see that. Killings like this are usually domestic, aren’t they? Close to home.”

“That’s right,” Davies agreed. “They are.”

After a few moments, as Penny pondered what he had told her, he looked at his watch.

“Almost time we were heading back,” he said. “But there’s plenty of time for coffee, if you’d like one. Or pudding. I don’t eat sweets much anymore,” he said as he patted his middle, “but you go ahead if you want something.”

“I think not,” said Penny, patting hers. “I need to be getting back, too. I’ve left Victoria on her own running the salon and I told her I wouldn’t be gone too long. She’s my new apprentice!”

She placed her napkin on the table and smiled at Davies.

“Thank you,” she said simply. “I enjoyed that.”

“So did I,” he replied, and after a brief pause added, “What have you got on over the next few days? Will you be available if I need to speak to you again?”

“Oh, I think so. When you have a business, you’re pretty well tied to it, but Victoria and I are planning to go up to Llandudno for the afternoon to get some stock at the Cash and Carry. I’m making some changes to my business plan, you see. I’ve been thinking for a while about getting in someone to take over more of the day-to-day running of things so I can grow the business, and with Victoria there now, it just makes sense for her to do that.”

“Really?” said Davies. “Good for you. Hope it works out.”

“Speaking of Victoria,” Penny said, “she’s going to be playing at Rhys Gruffydd’s funeral tomorrow. Apparently most of the wedding party is coming back to be there. Thought you’d like to know.”

Davies nodded and looked up from his wallet where he was sorting out his credit cards.

“Please remember what I told you about getting involved in this, Penny. Whoever he is, he’s dangerous. When you’ve killed once, why not kill a second time, or even a third?”

While they’d been having lunch, the weather had started to improve. The sky had lightened and the drizzle was letting up. The air felt fresh and charged, and Penny felt an unexpected lifting of her spirits.

They drove in an easy silence for a few minutes, until Davies tapped her on the knee and pointed at something outside his rain-spattered window.

“Look!” he said. “Ordered especially for you.”

Leaning forward to see past him, Penny gasped.

A magnificent, shimmering rainbow arced across the sky stretching from Snowdon across the valley. As its bright red blended into a spectrum of colours ending in vibrant violet, it gave off a subtle glow that transformed the view into a surreal glimpse into a magical world. A gentle mist rose from the green fields and Penny felt a rare and welcome sense of well-being.

“Oh, wow,” she said. “And look again now! There’re two of them! See! Over there! To the left!”

Davies slowed the car until he found a spot where he could pull over safely. He reached into the glove box and pulled out a digital camera.

“Let’s get some photos. We might want to remember this.”

“For sure!” called Penny as she jumped out of the car. “Hurry, Gareth, before they disappear.”

She slowed as she reached the top of a small embankment and as Gareth photographed the rainbows for her, she breathed in the freshly cleansed air that smelled so sweetly of recent rain.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Well, how did it go?”

Penny took her jacket off, hung it carefully on the coatrack, and turned to face her friend.

“Well, if you mean did I have a good time, then yes, very nice, thank you. We went to Betws-y-Coed and saw the most beautiful double rainbow on the way home. It was spectacular. The kind of thing you’re really lucky to see once in a blue moon, if that isn’t mixing up too much freaky nature into one thought.

“But if you mean did I find out anything, then yes, I did, a little. He told me how Meg Wynne died and it was pretty brutal I can tell you. Oh, and he warned us off again. Says whoever it was killed Meg Wynne could easily kill again.

“What happened in the shop while I was gone? Did you get the list made of the things we have to get in Llandudno? Are you ready for the funeral tomorrow? Should we have a chat about what you might look out for?”

Victoria laughed.

“You must have had a good time. You’re positively ranting. How much wine did you have?”

She gave Penny a hug and then stood back to look at her.

“I’m glad you had a good time. Will you be seeing him again, do you think?”

“Later in the week, possibly, depending on how his work goes. Might go out for a drink.” After a moment she added, “I think he’s just interested in me for now, because of what he thinks I know. When all this is wrapped up, we probably won’t see him again.”

She shrugged and raised her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

“Anyway, why don’t you fill up the kettle and tell me how you got on in the shop. Did you get a chance to sort out the inventory and make a list of the things we need?”

The next day, Victoria returned from the Gruffydd funeral to find Penny restlessly poking about in the kitchen.

“It was all very tasteful,” she said, in reply to Penny’s raised eyebrows. “Everything had been planned down to the tiniest detail.”

She paused for a few moments and watched as Penny opened the door to the fridge, peered at its contents, then closed the door and moved on to the cupboard where the biscuits were kept. She shook her head in response to Penny’s offer of one.

“No, I couldn’t eat another thing,” she said. “There was so much food in the church hall afterward. Gwennie had done it all, I heard—sandwiches, little cakes, pastries, everything. She did a beautiful job. It was all just perfect.”

She eyed the biscuit box and held up a hand.

“Mm, tempting, but I mustn’t. Anyway, I was all psyched up to suss out the wedding girls, but they were pretty obvious. In those clothes, and looking so smart and Londonish, they really stuck out.”

“Were they wearing their high heels?” Penny asked.

Victoria laughed. “Oh, absolutely. You should have heard Mrs. Lloyd go on about them. In her day, girls knew the difference between town shoes and country shoes. You have to admit she’s got a point, though. So impractical. Not to mention uncomfortable, I shouldn’t wonder. Still, they say you get used to it but why on earth would you want to, I ask myself.

“Anyway, I had a little chat with them and told them you and I were working together now in the shop. They said you gave them the best manicure—better than anything they get in London. Said it lasted for a week, with no chipping and if they can, they’ll ring for an appointment. I gave them a business card.

“Which reminds me, should we think about updating the cards? I thought maybe you could come up with a new design—put a spectacular red fingernail on it, or something. Jazz them up. Splash of colour.”

Penny nodded. “We need to sit down and go over everything. I’m updating the business plan, so we can certainly add that in. We’ll use up the old ones first, though. No point in wasting them when we haven’t changed phone numbers or moved or anything. But we’re getting off topic. Let’s go back to the funeral. Who else did you talk to?”

“Oh, right. Well, Emyr, of course, and his friend, David Williams. It turns out that I knew David’s family many years ago, when I used to spend my summers here. He was just a cheeky lad, then, always up to something but so charming he always got away with it. He was called by his Welsh name, Dafydd, back then. Apparently he’s done really well for himself in London. He’s got a big life there, bags of money, by all accounts.

“Oh, and a pretty fancy girlfriend. A woman picked him up after the funeral in a BMW. I didn’t get a good look at her, though, and don’t know if I’d recognize her if I saw her again. She was wearing big sunglasses and a head scarf like a 1960s Italian movie star. La dolce vita.”

“Be nice to know who she is,” said Penny. “As for David, he was Emyr’s best man at the wedding. Apparently very supportive and helpful, he was, by all accounts, when Meg Wynne went missing, but I think we’ve already been over that.

“Was the other one there? Robbie? I wish we knew more about him.”

Victoria thought for a moment.

“I don’t think he was, but I’m not sure I would have known him. The good thing about playing at the funeral, though, was that I had a really good seat at the front and got to see the faces of the people who were there, as opposed to sitting in a pew and looking at the backs of their heads.”

“Oh, sorry!” exclaimed Penny. “I should have asked—how did your playing go? What songs did you do? Were you a hit?”

“Do you know,” said Victoria, “I think I was. I did John Lennon’s ‘Beautiful Boy’ and Emyr started to cry. Is that good or bad, do you think? I can never tell.”

“I think it’s good,” said Penny, “although just thinking about it makes me want to cry, too.”

She thought for a moment.

“Well, since you’ve already eaten, why don’t you get changed and we’ll go for a walk? I’ve been cooped up here all day and the exercise will do us both good. And I’d like to pick up a few things on the way back.”

Victoria cheerfully agreed, telling Penny she might want to put on a jumper as the wind was cool.

A few minutes later they set off, and rounded the corner into the town square.

Penny stopped short and placed her hand on Victoria’s arm.

“What is it?” said Victoria, looking at her. “You look as if you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you okay?”

Penny slowly lifted her hand and pointed in the direction of the town clock at a small woman in a light green spring coat, with a carrier bag in each hand, who was making her way toward them.

“Sorry,” gasped Penny. “She looks so much like Emma the first day I saw her, I was just taken aback for a moment.”

“Oh, that’s only Gwennie,” said Victoria. “She’ll have been tidying up after the funeral. Hello, Gwennie,” she called out.

“Oh, Mrs. Hopkirk, I’m that glad to see you!” she said rushing toward them as the bags flopped against her legs. “I was so busy seeing to the refreshments at the reception I didn’t have a chance to tell you how much I enjoyed your playing.” She looked up admiringly at Victoria and then stole a sideways glance at Penny. “I’m just taking a few sandwiches and cakes home to my sister. They’ll enjoy them for their tea, I thought. But tell me, what did you think of the service?”

She paused to catch her breath.

“I thought it was lovely,” said Victoria. “Gwennie, have you met my friend Penny Brannigan? Penny does our manicures.”

“Oh, Miss Brannigan, how do you do?” said Gwennie politely. “I’ve often thought I’d like to stop in your shop and have my nails done but then I think what with all the washing and cleaning, what would be the point? I remember you always did them for Mrs. Gruffydd on her special occasions. Like Christmas. Always got them done, then, she did.”

Gwennie and Victoria chatted away for a few moments while Penny, in a world of her own, stared at Gwennie’s distinctive coat. Undoubtedly the height of fashion in its day, the coat was full-length, unbelted, and unfitted. With a full, generous cut, it flowed straight down from the yoke and featured a stand-up collar, raglan sleeves, and small, brown leather buttons. She would have known it anywhere, because she had seen it so many times on its previous owner.

Finally, she spoke.

“Gwennie, do you mind me asking you where you got that coat?”

“What? This old thing? I bought it years ago at the charity shop, just over there,” she said, pointing to the one that faced the square. “But it’s very good quality and there’s still lots of wear left in it,” she said somewhat defensively. And then, eager to continue discussing the details of the funeral, she turned back to Victoria.

“I told young Mr. Emyr that you would do a beautiful job, and you did,” she gushed. “He’s been through such a lot lately, and is very grateful for all the kindness and support of his friends. I told him we’d had such a lovely chat in the kitchen that day you came by and how concerned you’d been over that awful business with poor Meg Wynne.

“I do hope you’ll drop by again for a cup of tea with me, Mrs. Hopkirk. You’ll always be very welcome and I do enjoy a bit of company. It looks like I’ll be working more hours up at the Hall as young Mr. Emyr needs that much looking after, now that he’s on his own. Of course, he’s in and out and I expect he’ll be off to London or somewhere soon so I don’t know what’s going to happen, really I don’t.