Elizabeth Duncan - A Killer's Christmas in Wales

“Would you mind if we skip the drink and just go? I’d rather be off now so we can get there a little early.”

“Of course.” He helped her on with her winter coat, and together they walked to his car. The night was cold, with the promise of snow before morning.

Davies, who had been banned from the spa for weeks in the run-up to the big reveal, was astonished by the transformation. While the conversion had maintained the character and charm of the old stone building, inside it was now unrecognizable. Gone were years of decay and decrepitude, peeling paint and worm-eaten floorboards, replaced by light, style, and the promise of a wonderful experience.

“Hello, Victoria,” he said as she greeted them at the door. “You look lovely tonight, too.” With her shoulder-length blond hair tied back in a small black velvet bow that complemented her little black dress, makeup expertly applied, and wearing rather high heels, Victoria looked expensive and well cared for. The spa’s clients would identify perfectly with that look.

“Thank you, Gareth. Coats over there,” she said, gesturing to a small room off the main hall where a large coatrack brought over from the hotel had been set up.

“Now then, the bar’s over there and Eirlys will be along in a few minutes with food. But Penny will look after you. I’ve just got a few last-minute things to see to.” She smiled at both of them and disappeared.

“Let me show you around,” Penny said. “We’ll start over here, at the manicure salon. It’s like the old place, only better.”

Besides the manicure salon, their ground-floor tour included a hairdressing salon with two stations, three massage/treatment rooms, walk-in supply cupboards, and a restaurant-quality kitchen filled with gleaming stainless-steel appliances. As they entered, a small woman in a white uniform artfully arranging canapés on a silver tray stopped what she was doing and stood back from the table holding her tiny hands in front of her bosom.

“Don’t let us interrupt you, Gwennie,” said Penny. “Just giving Inspector Davies here a quick look round before the guests arrive.” She took a closer look at the prepared trays waiting to be sent out and then gave Gwennie a broad smile.

“They look wonderful, Gwennie. You do such wonderful work. But those trays you’re using, they aren’t ours. Did you…?”

“Yes, I did, Miss Penny. They’re from the Hall and the finest silver they are, too. I asked Mr. Emyr if we could use them tonight and he said certainly we could. Said I could borrow anything I needed.” She sighed. “It’s not as if he ever does entertaining, rattling around like he does all by himself in that big house. When he’s home, that is.” Her meerkat-like eyes moved from Penny to Davies. “I don’t know what’s to become of him, or the Hall, to be honest. Since his fiancée died last summer, he’s just had no interest in anything. He travels a lot, but his heart doesn’t really seem to be at home or anywhere else, far as I can tell.”

“Well, you know that we want you to come and work for us,” Penny said. “Victoria’s explained everything to you, and we need you. If there’s not enough work at the Hall to keep you busy, there’s plenty for you to do here.” She shot a guick glance at Davies who was reaching toward the tray Gwennie was working on.

“Yes, sir, do take one,” Gwennie said to him. “Two, if you like. There are lots more. And these ones with the smoked salmon spread are quite nice.”

She checked her watch.

“And Eirlys is coming in to pass them round, is she? I’d expect to see her any minute now. It’s almost time.”

A light bustle in the doorway signaled that Eirlys had arrived, and with a broad, excited smile, she bounded into the room.

“Hi, Penny, Gwennie,” she greeted the two women, adding, “I wore the white blouse and black skirt just like you told me to, Gwennie.”

“Hi, Eirlys,” said Penny. “This is my friend Detective Chief Inspector Davies. I don’t think you’ve met him.”

“Oh, hello,” said Eirlys, extending her hand. “I’m happy to meet you.”

“Right, well, we’ll leave you to it,” said Penny as Gwennie held up the tray so Davies could sample a couple more canapés before they moved on.

“Where would you like me to start?” Eirlys asked Gwennie.

“First things first, young lady,” said Gwennie as she set the tray down. “What’s the first thing we do in the kitchen before we touch food?”

“Oh, right,” said Eirlys as she immediately turned and walked toward the sink.

Penny and Gareth left the room to the sound of running water as Eirlys washed her hands.

The reception area had begun to fill up and several guests were sipping wine and gazing around in awe.

“Well, it certainly has that wow factor,” Mrs. Lloyd was saying to Harry Saunders. “You would never have believed what this place used to look like. Disgusting it was. It’s amazing what money can do, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes, Evelyn,” he replied, pursing his lips. “Absolutely amazing.”

Florence Semble trailed after them, left out of the conversation. But she didn’t mind. She’d been to lots of parties on her own, and she wasn’t so much interested in the socializing as she was in the food.

She helped herself to a small sandwich from the tray that Eirlys was passing around and, after examining it critically, took a delicate nibble and then ate the rest of it. Across the room a flash of red caught her eye, and recognizing Penny, she headed over to her.

“Oh, hello, Florence,” said Penny, “so glad you could make it. How are you? Getting something to eat? Can we offer you a drink?”

Florence took a step closer and shook her head. “No, thanks, nothing to drink for me right now. But I was hoping to have a word with you. When it’s convenient, like.”

Penny and Victoria exchanged glances and Penny stepped away.

“Is there something the matter, Florence?”

“You know me well enough by now, Penny,” she said in a low voice, glancing slightly behind her. “Some folks might think I’m a little blunt, but I speak as I find and you always know where you are with me, so I’m going to come right to the point.” She looked across the room where Mrs. Lloyd, holding Harry’s arm, was talking animatedly with the rector and his wife, Bronwyn.

“Is there someplace we can go for a quiet word?”

“Yes, there is,” said Penny. “Just through here. Follow me.”

She led the way down a well-lit hall and into a small room that faced the river. She switched on a lamp and then turned to face Florence.

“We had this bit of extra space so I decided to make it into a little reading room. Please, have a seat.”

The room was a serene little haven with two comfortable chairs, bookshelves displaying a few best sellers, and a low coffee table with new fashion and style magazines. It would be the perfect spot for a quiet chat over a cappuccino with a new friend, or if a guest wanted a private place to check e-mail, think, or read.

“Oh, this is very attractive,” Florence said, impressed despite herself. “But it’s Evelyn I wanted to talk to you about. Evelyn and that man.”

“Harry Saunders.”

“Yes, Harry Saunders.” His name curdled on her lips. “That’s the one. He’s a charmer. What used to be called a cad. He’s wormed his way into her affections and she can’t see it. It’s so obvious he only wants her for her money.”

“Well, maybe he does,” said Penny, “but I don’t think there’s anything you or I can do about it.” She thought for a moment. “You know, maybe you should speak to Mrs. Lloyd’s niece, Morwyn. Have you met Morwyn? They’re very close and perhaps she could have a word with Mrs. Lloyd.”