Murder on the Hour (12 page)

“Are you warm enough?” she asked. He made a little murmuring noise by way of an answer and not long after, rather to her surprise, and despite the hardness of the ground beneath her, Penny felt herself drifting off to sleep.

It was still dark when she awoke, stiff, sore, and wondering where she was. As it all started to come back to her, Dilys, Michael's injury, the cyclists, the loss of her phone, she struggled to sit up. Without her phone she had no way of telling the time, but the birds had started their dawn chorus so daylight would be coming soon. Michael's breathing was quiet and regular. She lay back and waited for the light, planning what she had to do and envisioning herself doing it. She should have got Michael's car key off him last night so she wouldn't have to wake him now. She'd have to get into his car and find his phone to call for help. How would she describe this place so rescuers could find him? He'd asked her to tie something to a tree on the trail to mark where he was. Thank God she was wearing a scarf. She wondered how soon after sunrise hikers or bikers might be out on the trails.

The blackness began almost imperceptibly to fade to dark grey until she could just begin to make out shapes. A tree trunk here, a branch there. As the sky lightened into dawn and a pale pink filtered between the tree branches, Penny touched Michael on the shoulder. He moaned and tried to turn over.

“Michael, I'm leaving now to find help. Give me your car keys.”

He shifted to one side so he could reach into his pocket and handed the keys to her.

“Good luck,” he whispered. “Sorry, I'm so parched I can barely speak. Come back soon, with water if you can.”

“No matter what happens, you mustn't move,” said Penny as she laced up her hiking boots. “I'll be back as soon as I can with help but you need to stay here.”

“I don't think you need to worry about that. I couldn't leave even if I wanted to.” His eyes remained closed and his breathing was ragged. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring, encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Brushing the low overhead branches out of her way, she headed for the trail. She pulled off her scarf and tied it to a tree to mark the spot where rescuers would find Michael just off the path. With a bit of luck and the wind at her back, she reckoned she could be at the parking lot within half an hour as the path sloped downhill. The cool, early morning air invigorated her and she set off at a brisk pace, driven by hunger and a rising sense of fear for Michael's safety.

Forty minutes later the parking spot beside the lake came into view. One lone car remained. Clutching Michael's automatic car door opener she pressed the button. At the chirp of the door unlocking she wrenched open the passenger door and dove inside. The phone wasn't in view. She ran round to the driver side and checked the pocket inside the door. There it was. Oh, dear God, let there be battery power, she prayed. As she picked it up, it flickered to life. Fortunately, it was a basic, old-fashioned phone that didn't need a password. She entered a familiar number.

“Bethan, listen, it's me Penny. I need your help. The mountain bike trail above Lake Sarnau that leads up to the little lakes. A man is injured. Broken leg, I think. Can't walk. We need mountain rescue. Probably the air ambulance.”

She listened for a moment. “I know it's early and it's a long story. I'm at the lake where the cars are parked. He's farther up the trail. Should I wait here so I can lead you to him or should I go back and wait with him? Here? Okay. And bring food and water. He's badly dehydrated. Please come as quickly as you can. He's not doing well. How long will it take you to get here?”

At least thirty minutes Bethan estimated. That's thirty reassuring minutes, Penny thought. What Bethan really means is it could be up to sixty very long minutes with nothing to do, unless Michael has a book or magazine stashed somewhere. She opened the boot. Empty, except for her sketching materials. She pulled out her satchel, opened the door to the backseat, and sat sideways on it, with her feet on the ground and began to sketch. But within minutes she put the pencil down, stood up, checked the time, and walked some way down the road. She walked back to Michael's car, sat in the front passenger seat, and checked her watch again.

Finally, after what seemed an endless wait, the sound of approaching vehicles alerted her to the arrival of a police car and ambulance. She climbed out of the car, remembered to lock the door and waving, ran toward the response vehicles. As the police car got closer she could make out Bethan in the driver's seat, with DCI Gareth Davies seated beside her.

Bethan parked the car and got out. Without saying anything, she handed Penny an egg and bacon sandwich, coffee, and a bottle of water. Penny opened the bottle and drank gratefully. A paramedic wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

“I've got more food for our injured hiker,” Bethan said. “If you can point us in the right direction, and the way is straightforward, the paramedics suggest that you wait here for the mountain rescue team so you can direct them where to go. We'll go on ahead with the paramedics to assess the situation and do what we can to make him comfortable or begin treatment if necessary, but we won't be able to bring him down until mountain rescue arrives.”

Penny directed them to the path, told them to stay on it, and to look for her scarf, a loose weave Indian cotton in graduated colours of orange to hot pink, tied to a tree. And just off the path at that point, to their right, they should find Michael waiting for them. “Oh, and please keep your eyes open for my phone,” she added. “I dropped it somewhere up there.”

The police officers and paramedics set off and the rescue mission began.

She went back to the sketch. She wished she'd been able to do this last night when the face of the biker that had hit Michael was still fresh in her memory, but this morning was better than not at all.

 

Seventeen

“I don't think I've ever been so happy to brush my teeth and take a shower,” Penny said to her friend and business partner Victoria Hopkirk that afternoon. “Poor Michael. He's going to be all right, but he will be laid up for a bit with that leg.”

“And you're sure you're all right?” Victoria asked. “It must have been quite an ordeal. Were you frightened?”

“Not for me, no, but I was for Michael. He got worse as the night went on and with nothing to take for the pain, he was in a lot of discomfort but he tried to keep that from me. He really put on a brave face. I can't tell you how relieved I was when the police and paramedics arrived.”

“And the police must have been really pleased to recover that quilt,” said Victoria.

“Oh, they were,” agreed Penny. “Almost as glad as I was that Bethan found my phone. I was just thinking about Michael and so focused on him I forgot to tell Bethan we had it, so they were amazed to find poor Michael huddled under it. The paramedics said he'd have been much worse off without it. At least he was warm. It's been sent for forensic testing by now, I expect.”

“About the quilt,” said Victoria. “And you and Michael spending the night together. Under it.” She hesitated and Penny gave her a slow look of surprise.

“Certainly not! With Michael in the pain he was in? But it did make for a bit of an awkward moment when Gareth and I met up again in the parking lot when it was all over.”

“Oh, I'll bet. But he accepts that it's over between the two of you, doesn't he?”

“I think so. I hope so. He asked a few questions on the way home about what we were doing up there. I told him we were sketching and walking and saw Dilys and followed her.”

“But that must have been really uncomfortable for the two of you up there all night.”

“It certainly was.” Penny covered her mouth as she yawned. “Sorry. I'm dead tired.”

“I expect you are. Just one more thing, though. I want to hear all about Dilys turning up again and with that quilt, of all things. I wonder where she's staying now. She might have another product or two we'd be interested in.”

“The police are definitely going to want to know where to find her. Or more importantly, they'll want to know where she found the quilt and how it got from Catrin's house to wherever she found it.”

“Could Catrin have dumped it on her way home from the Antiques show, disappointed, maybe, that it wasn't worth what she thought it was?”

“She could have, I suppose, but that doesn't seem very likely to me. Even if it wasn't terribly valuable, it was pretty and it had been in her family for years, so I don't see her doing that,” said Penny.

“Yeah, doesn't sound right to me, either,” agreed Victoria.

“For what it's worth, here's what I think could have happened. Whoever killed her took the quilt, slashed it open to get something hidden inside, and then that person dumped it. He'd got what he wanted, and didn't need the quilt anymore.”

“What makes you think something was hidden inside?” Victoria asked.

“When the appraiser at the show was evaluating the quilt she ran her hand down the side, and then said something to Catrin that I couldn't catch. But someone in the audience standing closer than I was could have heard it. And then the next time I see the quilt, the seam was ripped open. I think there was something in there and someone took it.”

“It does sound suspicious,” Victoria said slowly. “But maybe Catrin slit the quilt open herself when she got home.”

Penny stifled a yawn. “That's possible, I guess. Sorry. I'm going up for a nap and then I'm going to call Michael and see if he needs me to bring him anything in hospital.”

“You like him, I take it.”

“Yes, I think I do. He's interesting and I'd like to get to know him better. And I do find him attractive. But we got off to a pretty bad start. I feel terrible about what happened to him. We'd all feel better if some good can come out of his terrible ordeal, so be sure to keep your ears open and if you hear anything about Dilys, let me know.”

Victoria stood up. “I'll be on my way, then, and let you get some proper rest. Do you need me to get anything for you? Milk, in case you want a cup of tea when you wake up?”

“No, I'm all right for that sort of thing, thanks, but there is something you could do, if you don't mind,” said Penny. “Would you ring Emyr and see if he knows where Dilys is staying?”

“Right. I'll give you a call at teatime if I learn anything. You should be up and about by then. Enjoy your nap. I'll see myself out.”

A few minutes later Penny tumbled into bed. After the night spent on hard, cold ground, she luxuriated in the feeling of stretching out between smooth, clean sheets. How much we take for granted, she thought as she drifted off to sleep. And just as her eyes closed, she was jolted back into wakefulness by the image of the boy on the mountain bike bearing down on Michael, the look of fear and pain on his face as the bike hit him and the sight of the teenage boy riding off, knowing he'd hit someone, and not even bothering to look back. And then, finally overcome by exhaustion, she fell asleep.

*   *   *

She awoke a couple of hours later, somewhat disoriented from a deep sleep in the afternoon, but after a coffee, felt decidedly better. She wondered how Michael was doing but hesitated to ring him. If she called the ward to ask how he was doing, the nurse would ask her if she was a relative and then probably refuse to give her any information. She couldn't ring his mobile—assuming there was still a charge on it—because patients were allowed to use their mobiles only in designated areas of the hospital.

And then she thought of the best solution. She rang the hospital and asked to speak to the ward where he was located. When someone at the nursing station responded, she asked if she could leave a message for him. “Tell him I called to see how he's doing,” she said, “and that I'm coming to see him tomorrow morning. Ask him to text me, if he can, if there's anything he'd like me to bring.” She thanked the woman and rang off. If he wanted something, like his phone charger, she'd work out a way to get it.

She had just finished the call and was thinking about supper when Victoria rang. She'd spoken to Emyr, who'd said that he had no idea where Dilys was living, but he'd seen her around, carrying her trug basket filled with plants. From the dark soil clinging to their roots, he thought she was going to replant them somewhere. That might mean she'd found herself a little cottage or at least someplace where she could garden.

Penny thanked her, then told her she'd be taking a bit of time off in the morning to visit Michael in hospital.

 

Eighteen

The next morning Penny caught the bus to the local hospital. The journey involved two changes, with waiting, so it was midmorning by the time she arrived.

Michael was sitting up in bed, his left leg propped on a couple of pillows. He smiled sheepishly at her.

“I wasn't sure what to bring you,” Penny said, “so I brought you good old fruit and flowers.”

“Oh, very kind,” said Michael. “Have a seat.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Penny.

“Not too bad.”

“And your leg?”

“Actually, it was my hip they were most concerned about because I landed on it but it's not broken. They've just got the leg propped up to take some of the weight off it. My leg's badly bruised and I'll be a bit sore for a few days, but it could have been much worse. And they said the cut on my head didn't need stitching. They tell me I need to rest the leg and hip for a day or two before putting weight on it. The good news is I can go home tomorrow.”

“Do you need me to bring you anything?” Penny asked.

“No, I'll make do with what I've got here,” he said. “But my car. I'm a bit worried about it. What happened to it, do you know?”

“I handed over the keys and a police officer drove it to one of their lock ups where it'll be safe. It couldn't stay up there by the lake—could have been vandalized or stolen—so when you're ready to collect it, you just have to show your registration papers at any police station and they'll release it to you and tell you where you can pick it up.”