Elizabeth Duncan - A Killer's Christmas in Wales

Mrs. Lloyd nodded. “Well, nice if you like that sort of thing. Secondhand.”

Penny caught Victoria’s eye and stood up.

“Well, sorry to dash, but we have to be on our way. Victoria’s very anxious to get over to her cousin’s. Mustn’t keep the kids waiting any longer. Come on, Victoria, let’s be having you.”

After hurried good-byes and leaving a somewhat startled Mrs. Lloyd standing in her doorway waving them off, Penny settled into the passenger seat and scrabbled about in her handbag for her mobile phone.

“What on earth was that all about?” demanded Victoria. “We didn’t even say a proper good-bye to Thomas and Bronwyn.”

“No, and I’m sorry about that,” said Penny, “but we had to get out of there. Don’t you see?”

“See what?”

“Glynnis Bowen. She gave the John Lennon book to Florence. That book was on the list that Bethan gave me of things that had been stolen from the charity shop. It was just so easy to remember a John Lennon book because everybody knows who he was.”

She reached into her pockets. “Oh, where the hell is it?”

“What? Where’s what?”

“My phone. I can’t find my phone. Where’s yours?”

“In my bag on the backseat.”

Penny twisted around and tried to reach it. “Argh. I can’t get it.”

“Well, we’re almost back at yours, you can ring when we get there. Who are you so keen to ring by the way, as if I didn’t know.”

“Gareth. I have to ring him and tell him about Glynnis.”

“Tell him what?”

“That she killed Saunders and poor Brian Kenley.”

“How do you work that out?”

“Well, I don’t know why she killed Saunders, but she killed Brian because she was afraid that the photographs he took at Conwy Castle the day Harry Saunders was killed could incriminate her.”

“And you know all this because…” said Victoria as she turned into the narrow lane that led to Penny’s cottage.

“Because she stole the letter opener from Mrs. Lloyd. She must have taken it the day of Mrs. Lloyd’s open house and then forgotten about it. And there it still was at the bottom of her bag on the day we went to Conwy Castle. And she stole the daffodil plate from the charity shop and gave it to Brian Kenley, just like she gave the book to Florence. And that’s what I couldn’t work out that day I went to see him, just before he was killed.”

“All this is so hard to follow. You couldn’t work out what?”

“I couldn’t work out why he didn’t seem bothered that the plate got broken. But now I see the reason he didn’t care was he hadn’t had it very long and it was just an old secondhand plate that Glynnis had given him. He couldn’t have cared less about it getting broken, but I think he was upset because it happened when Glynnis was there. And then when I went over to see him, full of apologies about breaking his plate, he really had no idea what I was going on about.”

“I’m not so sure I do, either,” said Victoria, pulling up in front of the little path that led to Penny’s front door. “Anyway, here we are. Do you mind if I don’t come in? I do need to get over to see the children and I expect Gareth and Bethan will be back soon.”

“No, that’s fine,” said Penny. “Gwennie and I’ll do the tidying up, and you and I can catch up later or tomorrow. Right. Got to find my phone.”

“It’s only me, Gwennie,” Penny called out as she pushed open the front door, to be greeted by a tail-wagging Trixxi. “Just got to make a phone call, and then I’ll come through to help you.”

She picked up her phone from the small desk near the window and pressed the key to ring Davies. Damn! It went to voice mail. “Hi,” she said, “it’s me. Call me the minute you get this. It’s important.” She paused a moment and then, just before pressing the key to end the call, added, “Really important.”

She went through to the kitchen to find Gwennie seated at the small table eating a turkey sandwich. The dishwasher was chugging away, and the leftover food had been wrapped up and put in the refrigerator. A few large pots soaked in the sink.

“Hi, Gwennie.”

“Hello, Miss Penny. You’re back then. I wondered if I might have a word with you.”

“Of course. May I join you?” Penny pulled out a chair and sat down.

“I’ve been thinking about what you were saying at lunch about the woman’s body that was found in the ductwork in the spa and how she was related to the man who got himself murdered at Conwy Castle.”

Penny nodded.

“Well, I remember back when I was a girl and my mother worked at the Hall and she mentioned once that the girl who worked in the kennels and stables had gone missing. And she had a boy, about six or seven, I think he was, a bit younger than me. I’m not sure if the dates are right, but it might be worth looking into. I called my sister and she remembers Ma talking about it. Caused a lot of anxiety at the Hall when she went missing. Mr. and Mrs. Gruffydd did what they could to try to find her. The girl’s sister looked after the young lad, and eventually they moved away.”

Gwennie took a sip of water. “Been a long time since I thought about that, but it might be worth mentioning to your police fellow and he can look into it.”

“What was her name, Gwennie? Can you remember?”

“Juliette. I always thought that was such a pretty name. Juliette Sanderson, she was.”

“I’ll definitely tell Gareth, Gwennie. Thanks very much for this. It would be wonderful if we could give her name back to her after all these years.”

She got up from the table. “I’d better just go and try to ring him again.”

“And I’ll make a start on those pots,” said Gwennie, as the dishwasher changed gears, paused for a moment, then whirred into the final rinse cycle.

Penny turned back to Gwennie.

“I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done today, Gwennie. And it was wonderful of you to arrive early to make a start on things.”

“I didn’t arrive particularly early,” said Gwennie as she took a step toward the sink. “I said I’d be here at eight and I was here at eight.”

Penny tipped her head.

“But I heard you moving about down here around seven thirty.”

Gwennie shook her head.

“It wasn’t me, Miss Penny. You must have been dreaming. Trixxi and I had our walk at seven thirty, just like we do every morning, and then we came here.”

At the mention of a walk, Trixxi looked up at Penny with large, hopeful brown eyes and wagged her tail as Gwennie ran hot water into the sink and reached for the washing-up liquid. Penny hurried into the sitting room toward the desk where she had left her phone, but just as she picked it up, a small figurine caught her eye. As she took in the little shepherdess, holding her crook as a cuddly lamb peeked around her ruffled blue skirt, a rough voice barked out, “Switch that phone off and put it down.”

She turned slowly to see Glynnis Bowen emerging from the kitchen, her left arm roughly around Gwennie’s waist, and her right hand holding the tip of the carving knife to Gwennie’s ribs.

“You heard me. Switch it off and put it down,” Glynnis ordered. Penny put the phone down beside the shepherdess figurine and then turned to face Glynnis.

“Glynnis. Please, let Gwennie go. She’s done nothing to you.”

“Of course I can’t let her go,” Glynnis said. “She’d go straight to the police, and I’ve had enough of them for one day, thank you very much.” She laughed, a strained, high-pitched, desperate kind of noise.

“Oh, yes, they’ve taken Huw in for questioning.” She practically spat out the name.

“Huw?” exclaimed Penny. “Why on earth? But he’s not…”