The Cold Light of Mourning (21 page)

Thirty

P
enny put the phone down and shook her head. Victoria raised her eyebrows over her teacup.

“Well?”

“He’s not buying it,” Penny replied as she pulled out a chair. “Says the woman has implicated Emyr and what’s more, we’re his best witnesses because of what we saw in Llandudno that day.” She snorted. “His best witnesses! I don’t think so!”

She thought for a moment.

“So, we have to find out why Williams did it and some way to prove that he did it. And, we’re going to have to be very careful, because we know how dangerous he is. I think he attacked you because he heard, maybe from Gwennie, that we were poking around and asking questions. When you think about it, Victoria, you were present at your own murder. You just didn’t die.”

Victoria shuddered and then started gathering up the breakfast things.

“What have you got on today?” Penny asked over the clinking of dishes being stacked.

“I’m going to pick up some books from the library. They didn’t tell me much when I was discharged from the hospital, and I want to know more about what happened to me and what kind of recovery I’m in.”

“Now that you’re not using anymore,” teased Penny.

“Right,” agreed Victoria grimly.

“That reminds me,” said Penny. “If you’re going to the library anyway, would you mind returning a couple of books for me? I got about three quarters through one of them and decided it was a waste of time. I could tell what the ending was going to be, so I read the last few pages, and sure enough, I was right. Too predictable.

“Oh, forgot to mention. Gareth said he’d drop by later to see how you’re doing.

“Right, well, best be off. Those nails won’t paint themselves.”

The door to the flat rang after dinner and a few moments later Penny was showing Gareth into the sitting room where Victoria was curled up on the couch, a small blanket over her knees, engrossed in one of the library books.

“Hello, Victoria,” he said. “Just wanted to drop by for a few moments to see how you’re getting on. All right, are you?”

She smiled up at him.

“Getting there. Feel a bit more like my old self every day.”

“That’s the ticket,” he said, and then, turning to Penny, asked if he could have a quiet word in the kitchen.

“There’s this retirement do on Friday,” he said, “and I wondered if you’d like to go with me. I know I should have asked sooner, but with all that’s going on …

“Should be a good night out. Old Roddy’s been with the force a long time, and we’re giving him a proper send-off. Nice meal, a few drinks, and we’re even laying on a dance.”

“And will there be speeches?” Penny asked innocently. “Can’t beat a good retirement speech, I always say.”

Davies laughed. “Oh, I think I can safely say that you won’t be disappointed. And with us being Welsh and unable to stop ourselves, there might even be singing.”

His smile faded.

“Just one thing, though. I wondered if we could see this as just a night out. Let’s not discuss the case. Let’s just enjoy ourselves. Deal?”

“Deal,” Penny agreed. “Is it a formal do?”

“Not too dressy, but it’s at the golf club, so you know, something nice but not too formal.” He smiled at her.

The phone rang just as he finished speaking.

“I’ll get it,” called Victoria. After her hello, there was silence.

“We’ll call you back,” she said, then added in a low voice, “give me your number.”

An awkward silence hung over them as Victoria entered the kitchen.

“Well,” said Davies, looking from one to the other, “best be on my way, then.”

Penny showed him out of the flat and then returned to find Victoria looking at the piece of paper in her hand.

“That was Gwennie,” she said. “Emyr’s just turned up. He’s been in Cornwall and didn’t know the police are looking for him. Gwennie’s beside herself. She wants to know what we think she should do.”

Penny thought for a moment.

“Call her back,” she said, “and tell her that Emyr should call Robbie Llewellyn right away. He may not be the right solicitor for this, but he might be able to recommend someone. And tell her we’re coming over and we’ll explain everything we know to Emyr.”

And as an afterthought, she added, “Oh, and make sure she tells him we know he didn’t do it and that he’s been framed and we think we know who by.”

Accompanied by Robbie Llewellyn and another solicitor, Emyr turned himself in the next day. A photo of him, looking glum and despondent, appeared in the next edition of the newspaper.

“I wouldn’t be feeling too confident, either,” said Penny, “if the best I had going for me were two middle-aged women with no resources or experience in this kind of thing.”

“There’s that,” Victoria replied, “but he did seem genuinely touched by our belief in his innocence.”

“And it’s not just us,” agreed Penny. “No one in the village thinks he did it.

“You know, it’s going to be hard not to say anything to Gareth about this on Friday night, but I sort of promised not to go there. He just wants a nice night out, without any of this rearing its ugly head.”

“Well, you can understand that,” said Victoria. “To him, it’s just his work. He wants to forget about all that and enjoy himself with you.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to wear, by the way?”

“No, not really. Any suggestions?”

“I was thinking … have you got a little black dress? You can’t go wrong there. With the right shoes, maybe some pearls—”

“You’re right!” said Penny. “I feel a trip to Marks and Spencer coming on. Maybe get a sexy new slip to go with it. I’ve got shoes and a bag that’ll do. Great!”

As her last customer left on Friday afternoon she heaved a sigh of relief and made her way upstairs for a bath. She dressed slowly and carefully. Her new dress, on a pink satin hanger, hung on a hook on the back of the door. She liked the way it draped easily from the shoulders, with a small cap sleeve to just cover the upper arms. Feeling excited about the evening ahead, she held it against her face and breathed in the newness of it. It had been a very long time since she’d had the right occasion and the right man to justify a new dress.

She liked her sexy new black slip, too. Do young women still wear slips, she wondered. Goodness knows, she’d seen lots of them about who should have been wearing one. Maybe that was just her, showing her age and generational thinking.

She glanced at the clock and realized she’d better get a move on. Gareth would be here any minute.

She walked over to the closet and reached up to the top shelf to bring down the little black handbag she rarely used. In fact, the last time she’d had it out, she realized, was Emma’s funeral. The bag was wedged in between a couple of boxes and as she tugged on it, the boxes shifted and threatened to fall. She dropped the handbag to grab the heavier, bigger box and steady it. As she touched the box, the unzipped handbag fell to the floor, turning over in mid-air and spilling its contents. A packet of photographs tumbled out and several of them slipped out of the envelope and skittered across the hardwood floor.

Oh no, thought Penny as she bent over to pick them up. Those were the photos Alwynne from the sketching group wanted me to look at and I completely forgot about them. What was it she wanted to know? Something about different views of the high pasture and sheep and a dog and how she could blend the two views into one picture, was it?

Penny glanced at the photos and slowly sank to the floor, where she sat, legs tucked under her. She looked closely at the photos and then, holding her breath, pulled the others out of the packet.

“Penny! Gareth’s here,” called Victoria.

“Tell him to come in!”

“Are you decent?” Victoria asked as she pushed the door back and showed Davies in.

“It doesn’t matter,” said Penny. “He needs to see these,” she said.

“What do I need to see?” he asked.

“These!” she said, handing him the photos. “They’re those old-fashioned ones with the date stamp on them. Look at the date. It’s the Saturday that Meg Wynne disappeared. Look at where it is and look,” she said, pointing to the photo, “look there. It’s Trixxi, Emyr’s dog. Not just any old black Lab. She’s wearing that red bandana. It’s definitely Trixxi. She was up on the high pasture that morning. And look at this one,” she said, fumbling to find another photo. “Down here, in the corner. There’s a figure. See? You can get it enhanced and that’ll tell you who was there, with the dog! And I’ll bet you anything, it’s David Williams.”

Davies nodded, gathered up the photos, and put them in the inside pocket of his suit coat.

“You look very nice,” he said unable to resist giving her lightly freckled décolletage a quick once-over. “Is that what you’re wearing, though, or is there something else that should go over it?”

Penny looked down, placed her hand on her chest, and started to laugh.

“Stop looking and help me up,” she said, “and I’ll finish getting dressed.”

“Good,” said Davies. “And then you can tell me where you got these.”

“I thought we had a deal that we weren’t going to discuss the case,” teased Penny.

“We aren’t,” said Davies. “Not after you’ve told me where you got them, who took them, and why we’re just seeing them now. And then we won’t discuss it anymore.”

The retirement party was in full swing when they arrived. As they made their way through the crowded room several older men called out to Davies, who smiled broadly as he led Penny to a table where Bethan and three others were seated.

Bethan’s face lit up when she saw Penny and she gestured to the empty seat beside her. Davies pulled out the chair and when Penny was seated, took his place on her other side.

“Bethan likes you very much,” Davies said, leaning closer to Penny to be heard above the background din of crowd noise. “I think she’ll be sorry when this case is wrapped up and she might not get to see so much of you.” Penny smiled at him, and then turned to Bethan.

“You look really nice tonight, Penny,” Bethan said. “That black dress really suits you!”

When the dinner and speeches were over, and as the upbeat sound of Rod Stewart’s “Maggie Mae” started up, Davies led her onto the dance floor. As they danced, they sang the familiar words along with the rest of the dancers. After a few upbeat songs, the opening piano sequence of Carly Simon’s title song from
The Spy Who Loved Me
slowed down the pace and they turned toward each other.

He put his arm around her waist and as they moved gently back and forth in time to the music, she looked up at him.

“I was thinking during dinner that it’s rather fun to be in this company,” she said, gesturing around her. “Almost everyone here is a police officer and yet everyone looks so normal and ordinary. You’d never know.”

Davies pulled her closer and she relaxed in his arms, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the moment. She breathed in the scent of him, a masculine blend of a garden after the rain and cigar smoke.

Around midnight, they said their good-byes and drove home. As they made their way along the quiet deserted road, Penny looked over at him in the pale light from the dashboard.

“It was a great evening,” she said. “Thanks for taking me.”

He nodded and reached for her hand.

“I was really proud to walk in there with you,” he said. “You looked,” he took his eyes off the road for a moment and glanced at her, “really lovely.”

They pulled up in front of the shop and Davies switched off the ignition. They sat for a moment and then turned to each other.

“Are you coming up?” Penny asked.

“Stay where you are for a second,” he replied. “I’ll get the door for you.”

Penny looked at her watch and groaned. Seven-thirty on Saturday morning and the shop had to be open in an hour and a half. She rolled over and then, as memories from the night before tumbled into place, she threw back the bedclothes and smiled. She thought about the longing in his eyes when he looked at her, the warmth of his embrace and the way he had kissed her, at first gently and then, with insistence. She realized how excited she was at the thought of seeing him again, but just as she was mentally getting ready to reach for him, she heard the sound of running water and was jolted back to the reality of Saturday morning.

She pulled on her dressing gown and walked into the kitchen where Victoria was filling the kettle.

“Morning,” she said.

“Hi,” said Victoria. “Well, you certainly look like a woman who had a good night!”

“It was great,” said Penny, leaning on the counter. “Remember when you were eighteen and having the best night of your life and you just didn’t want it to end? It was like that. I didn’t want it to end, and I don’t think he did, either.”

Victoria opened the tea caddy and held out a tea bag to Penny who shook her head.

“No, coffee, please.”

“What time did he leave?” asked Victoria. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

She broke into a grin. “Or did he leave? Maybe you’re hiding him in your room!”

“No, sadly, he went home about two,” said Penny. “They’ll have a busy weekend. He said they’d be talking to Alwynne and Bethan will have to go over everybody’s statements and of course, they’ll have to get the photos enhanced. I guess all we can do is await developments.”

The morning dragged on slowly and Penny found it hard not to keep looking at her watch. Every time the door opened she looked up expectantly, and hoped she had managed to hide her disappointment when each new arrival turned out to be the next client.