Slated for Death (21 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth J. Duncan

BOOK: Slated for Death
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“Did she?”

“Apparently. There was a program about The Characters on television recently. Very driven, was our Karis. Came from Swansea. She was the only musicial one in the family. The program made the point that this group paved the way for the Spice Girls in the 1990s. The big difference was that the Spice Girls had so much merchandising and marketing going on. Made millions from all the stuff—everything from watches to makeup that every little girl in the UK had to have. The Characters didn't do that, so when the music stopped, so did the income. They really missed the boat on the merchandising and lost out on a fortune.”

“Well, that's got to hurt. And it's a little strange when you think about it because there was a lot of merchandising around The Beatles and that was twenty years earlier. So people in the business knew about the importance of the product sales and all about the kinds of stuff that would sell besides the records.” She smiled. “Remember the Beatles' lunch boxes? It's really strange the manager of The Characters didn't insist on all the products. There must have been some negligence there.”

“How have you found her so far?”

“She's only just arrived, but it hasn't been going all that well, to be honest. Victoria was supposed to take her to lunch, but she stormed out of the Spa because she didn't like what Victoria had to say about her choice of music. Victoria's rehearsing privately with her this afternoon, or at least they're supposed to, so I hope they can put their disagreement behind them and Karis will behave professionally so they can get on with it. We're all a bit anxious about this whole concert thing. I'll be really glad when it's over and I expect everyone else will be, too.”

They walked on for a few more minutes, enjoying the quiet peace of the countryside against a background chorus of birdsong.

“We'll take another look at Rebeccah and the young lad to see if we can rule them out of the investigation. I will admit, this case has got messy.” As if in unspoken agreement, they slowed down as they approached the modern footbridge that spanned the River Conwy and he pointed to a bench. “Shall we?” They watched the sparkling river for a few moments as it flowed peacefully on its endless journey to the Irish Sea. The fields on the other side of the river, empty now, would be filled in a month or so with ewes and their spring lambs. Many people who live in North Wales, and not just farmers, see lambing season as the real beginning of a new year and as a landscape watercolour painter with a deep love of the countryside and a keen eye for its natural beauty, Penny counted herself among them.

After they were seated, Davies picked up where he'd left off.

“We have so many loose ends to tie up on this investigation. First there's Glenda Roberts. Murdered down the mine, possibly with a slate splitter. That's still to be confirmed, but we have good reason to think so. Then there's her mother, Doreen Roberts. Died of what could be an assisted suicide in her nursing home. If it was an assisted suicide, and the empty canister and plastic hood suggest that it was, who was present when she died? And then we have the counterfeit goods that Glenda was distributing and Rebeccah was selling. Is there a connection between the two deaths and the knockoff goods? I don't know. We've heard there were some complaints about them, and we've established that the counterfeit goods come from Manchester, so we're working with the police there. They've been very helpful.”

He sat back, folded his arms, and looked down river.

“I did hear something more about the knockoffs,” Penny said. “Peris said that a man was yelling at Glenda about some air freshener that he thought had been sold off her stall. It was fake, and contained something hazardous. The man said it triggered a reaction in his son and the boy ended up in hospital.”

“Did he say when this happened?”

“Shortly before Glenda died, I think.”

“I don't suppose he said who it was.”

Penny shook her head. “No, sorry.”

“Well, we'll try to find out,” said Davies. “I'm not surprised, though, that someone was angry. People are suffering ill effects from these counterfeit products and the problem's getting worse.

“The knockoff business is huge. And growing. There's a street in a rather rough Manchester neighbourhood that looks like all the shops are shuttered, but they actually sell every kind of counterfeit product you can imagine and some you wouldn't think of. We know Glenda went there to buy fake goods, which she sold on to the local traders to sell on their stalls, but it's hard to get any information out of the people who run the operation. They actually have lookouts posted in the street who warn shoppers and vendors when the police are coming and the goods simply vanish. And nobody's talking, of course. At least not to us, but there's nothing new about that.

“The really troubling thing is they've now moved into counterfeit wines and spirits. The vodka is made in Eastern Europe, smuggled into this country without paying duty, and the quality is so bad, it can actually cause blindness. The labels are often a giveaway, as Florence discovered with the lavender. I've seen Chardonnay spelled with an
S
! The other thing they do is create new brands. Lil Mouse vodka! Whoever heard of that?”

Penny smiled.

“Anyway,” Davies continued, “we're working on several lines of inquiry and Glenda's involvement in the counterfeit industry certainly opens up a world of possibilities.

“So what have we got? Two deaths. A murder and a suicide? A murder and a natural death? Or two murders? And linked somehow with pieces of slate found in two dead hands.

“But we haven't been able to establish a clear connection between the two deaths and probable or even possible motives. Are we looking at one puzzle? Two? More than two? And then there's Ifan Williams, who despised Glenda and admits he was on the mine tour when Glenda was killed. There are just so many persons of interest and potential persons of interest in this complicated case. I'd love to hear your thoughts.”

“My thoughts? I thought your investigation had to go where the evidence led, not where some theory might take you,” said Penny. “Confirmation bias and all that.”

“Oh, I think there's room for some insight and speculation,” smiled Davies. “A fresh point of view can be very helpful and I've always valued your input. We're not supposed to discuss operational details with people outside the case, but you've always been really helpful to the investigations and I trust you. So tell me, what do you make of all this?”

“Well, I don't have a lot of information … not nearly as much as you do, I expect, but I think all this is connected to something that happened down that mine a long time ago. I think that's why each of the dead women had a piece of slate in her hand. The killer was sending you a message. Old sins cast long shadows. But right now I'm more concerned about Rebeccah. I'm wondering if she's at risk. Could she be next?”

Davies seemed to take a keen interest in the sun sparkling on the river as he considered his answer. Although the air was cool, the brightness of the day spoke of long, warm days to come. A pungent tang of damp earth seemed to rise from the riverbank. The water was a deep blue, reflecting the paler blue of the sky and drawing the eye to the deep greens and dark purples of forested hills that rolled away to meet the horizon and then disappear into the mist.

“She may be. I hope not. I'll ask Bethan to talk to her.”

Penny stood up. “I should be getting back. Victoria's meant to be taking Karis to lunch and with Rhian gone, I'll need to be there.” Davies stood up and the two set off at a steady but comfortable pace.

“Rhian's away?”

“Her grandfather is dying. She's gone to be with her family.”

“Oh, right. I'm sorry to hear that.”

Penny hadn't yet told him what Dylan had disclosed about the murder of Aled Roberts down the mine all those years ago and although she would have liked to, she'd promised she would tell no one until Dylan was gone. This was not her secret to share. Not yet.

“Can you think of anything else that happened when you found Doreen Roberts?” Davies asked. “Anything at all.”

Penny scanned the scene in her mind. “No,” she said slowly, “I've told you everything I saw in her room.”

“All right,” said Davies. “Now, about Karis. It would be helpful if we ran a DNA test so we can see if there's a family connection. We'll need samples from both Rebeccah and Karis.”

“Won't that take too long?” asked Penny. “If they're in danger, waiting around three months for DNA results won't help.”

“Oh, we've come a long way,” Davies replied. “We can fast track our request to get a result back in just a day or two.”

Penny thought for a moment. “I can get you a skin sample from Karis Edwards tomorrow, if you want me to. All you have to do is send Bethan to the Spa. I'll let you know what time.” She reached into her pocket for a tissue. “By the way, is it okay to collect people's DNA samples without their permission?”

“We prefer to ask them to give us a sample, and most people are willing to do that, but if we think there's going to be a problem, or if they refuse, we can get the authority to collect it.”

“I suppose being unwilling to provide a DNA sample tells you something in itself.”

Davies smiled. “It can. My thinking in this case is that Rebeccah would give a sample willingly and Karis would not. I'll get Bethan to ask Rebeccah for a sample when she talks to her.”

By the time they arrived back at the Spa any chance Davies might have had of bringing up the death of Penny's fianc
é
, Tim Crawford, was gone and he wasn't sure now what mentioning it would accomplish. He placed a hand on her shoulder and bent down to kiss her cheek with the same tenderness as when he had greeted her. He loved the smell of her and drank it in. Her hair, her skin. She smiled up at him as he released her, and she then turned and walked up the path. He watched her until she entered the building, but she did not look back.

Eirlys was waiting for her on the reception desk. “Victoria's gone for lunch, after all, with the client,” she said. “That Karis Edwards. She came here, asked for Victoria, and the two of them left together.”

“Right,” said Penny, mildly surprised. “Well, that's good, I guess. Now, I've got to talk to you about something that's going to happen tomorrow. But first, let's look up what time Karis Edwards is coming in for her manicure.”

 

Thirty-seven

“I'm Karis Edwards, here for my manicure.”

“Good morning,” said Eirlys. “Penny herself will be looking after you this morning. I'll let her know you're here.”

A moment later Penny emerged from the manicure room, greeted Karis, and walked with her down the hall.

“Just give me your coat and we'll get started,” said Penny, pointing to the client's chair. She handed Karis's coat to a young woman in a pink smock. “This is Bethan,” Penny said. Bethan set a bowl of fragrant, warm water on the white towel in front of Karis and Penny gently dipped her client's fingertips in the bowl.

“Is the water temperature all right? Not too hot, I hope.”

Karis nodded. “It's fine.”

“So,” said Penny conversationally, “is your program sorted for your concert?”

“It's just a few songs in a small town,” said Karis, with an indifferent shrug. “Not sure it rates being called a concert.”

Penny struggled to contain herself. “Well, we've all gone to a lot of work to put this event on,” she said. “Especially after the original organizer died. And the people in our small town have paid good money to hear you sing.” She added a slightly icy emphasis to the words “small town,” which Karis either did not notice or chose to ignore. Oh, man, this is going to be heavy going, thought Penny. Over the years she'd become very good at reading body language and Karis was stiff and closed. Penny had learned that sometimes the right question could really break the ice. “Do you have a pet?” worked wonders with a new client who would immediately break into a broad smile and tell Penny all about her amazing cat who kept the household in stitches with its clever antics and had its own channel on YouTube. But she suspected it would take more than cat talk to connect in any meaningful way with the woman sitting across from her.

When clients were uncommunicative Penny tried to sense if they preferred to have their manicure in silence or if they wanted to chat and just needed a bit of drawing out. She wasn't sure what Karis wanted, so grasping for conversation, commented, “That's a pretty ring.” Karis pulled her left hand out of the soaking water and manipulated the ring between her middle and small fingers to centre the purple-coloured stones. “Thank you. It was my mother's.”

Penny placed the hand she had been working on back in the soaking water and picked up Karis's other hand. She began shaping the nails and silence once again settled over them, broken only by the whispery sound of the emery board brushing against a fingernail. When she'd finished the filing, she looked over her shoulder to speak to Bethan, who was pretending to busy herself sorting bottles of nail polish that Eirlys always kept perfectly arranged. “Bethan, would you mind helping Karis choose her polish?”

“I think a bright red,” Karis said, looking up. Bethan pulled four bottles and showed them to her. “That one, I think,” Karis said, pointing at one.

Penny picked up a pair of sterile clippers and began trimming around her fingernails, letting bits of discarded skin drop onto the towel. When she had finished both hands, she rolled up the towel and handed it to Bethan who exchanged it for a fresh one. Penny arranged this over the table, running her hands over it to smooth it out, gave Karis a reassuring smile, and began applying a base coat as Bethan left the room. Bethan carried the towel to the reception area where Eirlys held open a plastic bag. She placed the towel in the evidence bag, sealed it, and initialed it in the appropriate box. She handed her smock to Eirlys, thanked her, and left the Spa. Within the hour, the towel was being unrolled in the North Wales Police Service lab and the bits of skin it contained prepared for DNA testing.

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