Elizabeth Duncan - A Killer's Christmas in Wales

“If you’re not back, we’ll keep it warm for you.”

“Let’s hope it won’t come to that.”

“Can’t you just tell us what’s happened?” Penny asked.

“Later, when we know more.”

Gwennie reentered the room carrying a large bowl of roasted potatoes and Brussels sprouts, which she set down beside Penny.

“Shall I carry on with the carving while you pass the vegetables?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you, Gwennie, I think that would be best.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Penny. We’ll save some for them, and it’ll be no bother to warm it up when they return.”

“I’m so sorry about this, Gwennie. And everything looks so wonderful, too.”

The others murmured their agreement.

“That’s how it is, Miss Penny. At the Hall, back in the old days, dinners were often interrupted when one of the Labs decided that was a good time to have her puppies or it was lambing time or any number of things. But we just carried on, the way you do. Dinners can always be reheated. Now then, who’s for a nice bit of drumstick?”

“So this woman’s body in the spa, then,” said Jimmy. “They found out she’s related to that man who went over the wall at Conwy Castle, is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s right,” said Victoria. “They think the woman’s body had been there since the 1960s. And then all these years later, her son turns up dead, too.”

A thoughtful look crossed Gwennie’s face.

“If you’ll excuse me now, I’ll see to Trixxi in the kitchen.” She hesitated. “Miss Penny, would it be all right if I used your telephone? I’d like to ring my sister.”

“Yes, of course, Gwennie.”

The two police officers entered the church office where the Evanses, who had finished counting the Christmas offering, were waiting for them.

“We’re so very sorry to call you out today, of all days,” Reverend Evans began, “we weren’t really sure what to do, but we thought you’d want to see this.” He pointed at the little red box.

Bethan pulled an evidence bag out of the kit she kept in her car and wrapped it around the box. “I’m assuming you touched this? If so, we’ll need to get your fingerprints for elimination.” She looked from one to the other.

Reverend Evans nodded. “Yes, I think we both touched it. At least, we might have.” He looked at his wife. “Would you need us to do that today? It’s just that we’re meant to be having Christmas lunch with Mrs. Lloyd and Florence and we’re already so late.”

“No, that’s all right,” said Davies. “You can pop into the station tomorrow and they’ll take your prints.”

“But why are you so interested in the box?” Bronwyn asked. “There’s nothing in it. We couldn’t understand why someone would put that in the collection plate. It was the note we thought you should see.” She reached out to pick up the note but then pulled back as if she had touched a hot stove.

“Sorry,” she said. “Forgot I shouldn’t touch it in case of fingerprints. But that note,” she said, gesturing at it. “See what it says.”

Using a pencil she had picked up from the rector’s desk, Bethan unfolded the corners of the note. She and Davies read it, and then Davies looked at the rector.

“You did right to call us and we’re very glad you did. Tell me how you came by this. It’s very important.”

Penny filled a cup with coffee, added a splash of cream, and handed the cup to Victoria, who took it over to Jimmy, seated on the sofa.

He took an appreciative sip and then set the cup down on the small table that had been placed in front of him.

“Very nice, thank you, Penny. Just the way I like it. And I enjoyed lunch very much.”

“Well, when you’ve finished your coffee, Victoria and I’ll drive you over to Mrs. Lloyd’s. I hear Florence is looking forward to seeing you again.”

Jimmy’s face lit up.

“Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of your time,” Davies said to the Evanses, as Bethan bent down to give Robbie a pat. “Shall we give you a lift over to Mrs. Lloyd’s and then we’ll all be able to get on with our dinners.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you,” said the rector. “I don’t like taking the car out in winter, so if you’d be kind enough to drive us, that would be wonderful.” He exchanged glances with his wife. “Then the three of us can easily walk home. I’ll just ring Florence to let them know we’re on our way.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a police car before,” Bronwyn remarked when she and the rector, with Robbie between them, were arranged in the backseat of the police car.

“I’m sure you’d remember if you had.” Bethan smiled as she put the car in gear and drove off. The rector smiled and reached for his wife’s hand.

Bronwyn laughed good-naturedly “Well, in any event, I know Robbie’s never been in one.”

“First time for everything, my dear,” said the rector. “Now, I wonder if we should be hoping that no one we know will see us driving by, or just for the fun of it, should we hope that someone we do know does see us?”

“And if we do see someone we know,” replied Bronwyn, “do we stare straight ahead and look very worried or should we smile and wave?”

As they pulled up in front of Mrs. Lloyd’s home on Rosemary Lane, Bethan spoke softly to Davies. He nodded, then turned to his passengers in the back.

“We’re just going to pop in for a quick word with Mrs. Lloyd and Florence. They might have noticed something in the church this morning.”

“No, I didn’t see anyone put anything in the collection plate, except what you’d expect, regular collection envelopes and money,” said Mrs. Lloyd. “Did you see anything untoward, Florence?”

Florence slung a tea towel over her shoulder and then held a hand up to her cheek. “Let me think.”

The rector took off his coat and folded it over his arm as Bronwyn bent down and unclipped Robbie’s leash.

“Would it be all right, Mrs. Lloyd, if he just had a little wander about to get his bearings?”

“Yes, of course. Florence has put down a bowl of water for him in the kitchen.”

“Sorry to be taking so long,” said Florence, glancing at Bethan. “I was just going over everything in my mind, like. I remember the sidesmen passing the collection plate, but there was nothing amiss when we were in our seats. On the way out, however, I took one last look at the altar decorations and noticed an envelope about this big”-she made a small square with her hands-“sitting on top of one of the collection plates. “Brown, it was. It wasn’t a regular collection envelope, and I thought maybe someone had donated something special, it being Christmas and all. But I didn’t think any more about it.”

Bethan leaned forward slightly.

“Did you see who put it there?” she asked. “Think carefully now. You’ve been doing really well with this.”

Florence’s eyes shifted to the rector.

“It was just after the rector had left to go to the rear of the church to say good-bye to folks and some people had left their seats. There was a cluster of folk there, and I don’t know many of them. The only person I saw that I recognized was Bowen, the bank manager.”

She tipped her head to one side.

“And now that I think of it, that’s a bit odd because he was sitting behind us, wasn’t he, Evelyn?” Mrs. Lloyd nodded. “Yes, he was. We said good morning to him and his wife as we walked past them on the way in.

“So it does seem strange, now that I think of it,” continued Florence, “that instead of making his way to the back of the church when the service was over, that he had gone to the front.”