A Killer's Christmas in Wales

by Elizabeth J Duncan

  “Right. Well, before we panic, call the jeweler and see if you left it there.”

  “No,” said Penny emphatically. “I didn’t take it out of my bag. He had already done the appraisal, so he didn’t need to see the brooch. In fact, he made it.”

  “Oh, right. OK, well then, go home and look for it there. Perhaps you only think you put it in your bag, and it’s sitting on the table or counter or wherever you had your bag. Is that possible?”

  Penny pursed her lips and closed her eyes. “I suppose it might be possible if I didn’t remember so clearly setting it in my bag. I will look at home, though, just in case.”

  Victoria made an apologetic little gesture that included a shrug and something approaching a grimace.

  “Was it very valuable, or dare I ask?”

  Penny handed Victoria the appraisal document. Victoria’s lower jaw dropped and she breathed in sharply.

  “The awful thing is I know I should call the police, but I can’t bear to tell him I lost it,” Penny said. She hesitated. “One thing, though, did cross my mind, and that is that the jeweler who did the evaluation told me he had made the brooch. I was thinking maybe I could ask him to make a duplicate, and then I wouldn’t have to tell Gareth.”

  “No,” said Victoria. “You don’t want to do that. You know you don’t.”

  “No, I guess I don’t. But I really don’t want to tell him, either.”

  Victoria brightened. “Look, how about this? Go home and see if it’s there. I really hope it is, but if it isn’t, then call Bethan, and ask her to come and see you. You can talk to her about it. She’ll know what to do and how to handle this.”

  Penny considered the suggestion.

  “Here’s the thing, Penny. It’s an expensive piece of jewelry. If it’s been stolen, the police need to know that. There may be others. And besides, telling them is probably the only way you’ll get it back.”

  Seeing the wisdom in that, Penny agreed and reached for her coat and then gave a little start.

  “Oh, no,” she said. “I’ve just remembered something. Mrs. Lloyd and Florence came in for a chat. We were in the quiet room, and at one point, Florence excused herself to go the loo. If Rhian was away from her desk and Florence spotted the bag just sitting there, she might have…”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. Go home, and if it’s not there, call Bethan.” She started to leave and then turned back.

  “And contact Jimmy. He’s got connections that might be useful.”

  A few months ago, at a seniors’ home in Llandudno, Penny had met an elderly man who, in his younger days, had been one of the best break-and-enter artists in the area. If anyone could find out quickly who was trying to fence a stolen diamond brooch, it would be Jimmy.

  Sixteen

  Sergeant Bethan Morgan closed her notebook and leaned forward.

  “All right, Penny. Have you told me everything that happened since you unpinned the brooch from your dress this morning? You’re sure you didn’t leave anything out? Even the smallest detail can be important.”

  “Yep. That’s everything that happened.” Penny unclasped her hands. “As you can imagine, I’ve gone over and over it in my mind. I haven’t been able to think about anything else.” She took a moment to collect her thoughts while Bethan waited to see what she would say next.

  “What about Florence? I guess you’ll have to speak to her,” Penny said.

  “Yes, I will. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Florence may have seen someone when she was out in the hall.”

  “I didn’t think of that. But, tell me, do you think she could have taken it?”

  “Penny, I don’t think anything at this point. One of the first things you learn in this job is not to assume or make quick judgments. We’ll keep an open mind, investigate, and see what turns up. Now then, when Florence returned from the loo, did you notice any change in her demeanor? Was she fidgety? Seem uneasy? Anxious to leave?”

  Penny thought for a moment. “No, I don’t think she was any different.”

  Bethan wrote a few words in her notebook.

  “And what about Gareth? Will you tell him?” Penny asked.

  Bethan gave her a wry look. “You know I have to. He’d be very annoyed when he finds out later and he didn’t hear it from us. And of course, he will find out. There’ll be a report and he’ll read it. But for now, let’s see what happens, shall we?” She gave Penny a soft, reassuring look. “I can tell you he’ll be very understanding, not to mention extremely motivated to find the brooch and the person who took it.”

  Bethan looked at her watch. “Right, well, I’d best get on it. But I’m really glad you told me. We’ve had a few incidents of theft reported and, you never know, this might tie in with those.”

  “Thefts? What kind of thefts?”

  “Little things taken from shops. Nothing nearly as valuable as this.”

  She stood up. “Thefts like this are crimes of opportunity,” she explained. “Someone saw your unattended bag, unzipped it, saw the little box on top, and just snatched it. It was all over in seconds. The receptionist pops out for a moment, the coast is clear, the thief is in and out. And he counts on the theft not being discovered for a while, and in the meantime all kinds of people have come and gone. And you might have even forgotten the details of when you last had it.”

  “Those other thefts,” said Penny, “I don’t suppose you could tell me about them. Or let me have a look at the file?”

  “Have a look at a confidential police file? Absolutely not,” replied Bethan with a smile. “That would be completely against proper police procedure. But I don’t suppose anyone would notice if I happened to take a photocopy.”

  She took the evaluation form Penny offered her, glanced at it, and then tucked her notebook in her pocket as they made their way to the front door.

  “We’ve been that busy with the opening of the new spa that Christmas has completely slipped my mind,” said Penny. “But it’s almost upon us. We’d love to have you join us, if you can.”

  “I thought you’d never ask! I’m on duty so I can’t get away to my parents in Porthmadog. I’d love to come.”

  She stood in the doorway breathing the cold, clean air and then lifted her eyes toward the top of the hills that encircled the town. The dark clouds shrouding the tops of the hills had become more ominous.

  “I’m off to have a word with Florence now. I’ll let you know how we get on. And try not to worry too much.”

  * * *

  “I hope you’re not suggesting that I took the brooch!” Florence’s eyes flashed with indignation. She met Bethan’s eyes and then gestured at Mrs. Lloyd, who was seated on the sofa. “Now, Evelyn, I’ve been here with you for weeks now and have you noticed anything missing?” Realizing what she had just said, Florence tried to backtrack. “Well, not the letter opener; I didn’t have anything to do with that, either.”

  “No, I’m not suggesting you took the brooch. I’m asking if you took it. There’s a difference,” said Bethan calmly. “And suggesting that if you did take it, or if you know anything at all about its disappearance, that things will go better for you if you tell me everything you know. But you are not under caution or anything else. I’m investigating a missing piece of jewelry and I have to ask questions.”

  “Well, I most certainly did not take it,” Florence replied in a softer tone, “and I guess I can see why you have to ask. You think I had the opportunity because I stepped out of the little room for a bit on my own.”

  Bethan nodded. “That’s right. Now, if you didn’t take it, let me ask you if you saw anything while you were out in the hall that can help us get Penny’s brooch back.”

  Florence pondered the question and then shook her head slowly.

  “No, I didn’t see anything, but now that I think about it, I felt something. It was cooler, as if the door had just been opened and a blast of cold air had come in. But it didn’t really register at the time and I went back to that little roo
m where Evelyn and Penny were.”

  “OK,” said Bethan, offering Florence her business card. “Call me if you think of anything else, no matter how unimportant or trivial it might seem. Let me be the judge of what’s important.”

  “Yes, Officer, I will.” Florence looked at the card and then gave Bethan an honest, level look. “I like that Penny Brannigan. I wish I could help. If I could help her get her brooch back, I would.”

  “Well, I believe you, Florence,” said Bethan, adding, “Don’t get up. “I’ll show myself out.”

  A few moments later, while the front door was quietly being opened and then closed, Mrs. Lloyd turned to Florence.

  “Well, Florence, I expect you’ll have had enough of us here in Llanelen and you’ll be more than ready to take up that offer at the Adelphi Hotel in Liverpool. I’ve practically accused you of murder, and now the police are here suspecting you of stealing a valuable brooch.”

  Florence almost smiled. “Leave? I haven’t seen so much excitement in years. How could I possibly leave until I see how all this turns out? It did seem a bit strange, though. I felt I was being grilled harder over the stolen brooch than I was over the murder.” She stood up and retied her apron. “Now, should we have a little chat about what we are going to do about Christmas? I expect we’ll be having a quiet little dinner here, just the two of us, unless you have some friends you’d like to invite. And I saw a poster in a shop window about a presentation of A Child’s Christmas in Wales and I’d very much like to go. I’ve seen that on the telly, but it would be a proper treat to see it for real. With proper Welsh voices as the poet intended.”

  “Yes, we should go,” agreed Mrs. Lloyd. “Everyone will be there. And no doubt there’ll be refreshments afterward.”

  “It’s good to see you getting back to being your old self, Evelyn.”

  “Well, what choice is there, really? We must keep calm and carry on, as they used to say during the war.” She reached for the latest copy of Cheshire Life magazine. “I’d love a cup of tea, Florence, if you were thinking of putting the kettle on, and do you know, I believe I could do justice to one of those lovely scones you baked this morning.”

  This time Florence cracked a small, brief smile.

  * * *

  For the second time that day Penny walked from her home to the spa, this time quickly and deep in thought. Surprisingly and suddenly, the sun had come out, adding a warm, welcoming touch to the day and, for the moment at least, pushing the rain clouds to one side. Although most of the snow had disappeared from the streets, some remained, brown and crusted, pushed up against the sides of the buildings. But the pavement was bare and dry, and quite a few people were out and about.

  As she passed the old manicure salon, she glanced in the window and saw Eirlys, the young manicurist who had been hired a few months ago and who had done so much to bring in younger customers, bent over a large packing crate. Penny pushed open the door. The shelves were now bare, the furniture was gone, and the room held surprisingly few memories. Eirlys straightened up and ran her hands down the sides of her jeans.

  “Hi, Penny. I’m almost done. Victoria was here for a while, but after you called, she rushed off to the spa and hasn’t come back.”

  “That’s fine, Eirlys.” Penny looked around. “You’ve done a great job here with all this.”

  “There were just a lot of small items to pack up, and Victoria helped with some of it,” Eirlys said as she put the lid on the last box. “Are you feeling sad to be leaving your salon?”

  “No, surprisingly I’m not, considering how many years I spent building up the business and working here. I’m really looking forward to all the exciting things we’re going to do in the spa.” She smiled at her young assistant. “Well, you’re almost finished here, so let’s lock up. Have you taken a break today?”

  Eirlys shook her head.

  “Right, well, tell you what. Take the rest of the afternoon off, and we’ll see you at the spa bright and early tomorrow, all ready for our first day. Mrs. Lloyd is your first customer, and you know she’ll expect everything to be just so.”

  Eirlys grinned. “What I’d like to do, if it’s all right with you, Penny, is eat a little something, take a bit of time to get cleaned up, and then come to the spa this evening and help you set up the new manicure space. I’ll need to know where everything is in the morning anyway, and Mrs. Lloyd isn’t the only one who likes everything just so.”

  “Eirlys, that sounds like a wonderful idea. Shall we say seven P.M.? I don’t know where we’d be without you.”

  “Lost?”

  “That’s exactly the word I was looking for. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  * * *

  As Penny pushed open the door to the spa, a trim woman in a bright red hat who had been speaking to Rhian, the receptionist, turned around and gave her a warm smile.

  “Oh, there’s Penny that I was telling you about, one of the owners,” Rhian said. “She’ll be able to help you.”

  The woman thanked Rhian and took a step closer to Penny.

  “Hello,” she said. “My name’s Dorothy Martin, and I just dropped in on the off chance I might be able to get a manicure. I’ve never had one in my life and I thought it’d be fun. But I didn’t realize that you haven’t opened yet, so I’ll just be on my way.”

  “No, wait,” said Penny, intrigued by her soft midwestern American accent. “It’s true we aren’t really open until tomorrow, but if you don’t mind a bit of chaos, I can do you now, if you like. Most of our nail polishes won’t be arriving until later this evening, but I have a few colours here that might suit you, as long as you’re not too fussy.”

  “I’m certainly not fussy, and I’d appreciate that very much,” Dorothy said.

  “Well then,” said Penny. “Come through and we’ll get started.”

  The two women conversed for about fifteen minutes on their shared experiences as North American expatriates living in the U.K. Penny admitted she’d never really acquired a taste for curry, and Dorothy said that even after all these years she was still quite shocked by the strange ingenuity of British crime.

  “In the States, people just tend to shoot each other and get it over with, but here they’ll fiddle with the electricity so the missus will electrocute herself while she’s trimming the hedge.”

  “Yes!” Penny said. “I’ve noticed that myself. In fact, we’ve just had a murder here at Conwy Castle that you might have heard about. A man, an American in fact, went off the wall walk with a letter opener in his back. Two ladies who might have connections to the case have asked me to see if I can find out anything.”

  “I’ve solved a few murders myself, oddly enough,” said Dorothy. “Why don’t you fill me in and I’ll see if anything comes to mind.”

  After listening carefully while Penny described the events at the castle and mentioned Detective Chief Inspector Davies’ role, Dorothy thought for a moment. Then: “This is really going to be a difficult one. Open space and everyone coming and going. But, you know, I’ve always found in our kind of murder that often the important thing is not what’s present at the scene but what isn’t there. Or sometimes your lead will come from someone whom you would expect to behave in a certain way but instead does something that’s really out of character.”

  As Penny applied the finishing top coat, Dorothy smiled at her.

  “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Penny, but your eyes lit up when you mentioned that policeman of yours. I married mine, and it was absolutely the right thing to do. We’re very happy, Alan and I.”

  “That’s the second time today someone has hinted at that.”

  “Well, no pressure then!”

  Penny helped Dorothy gather up her belongings and then showed her out.

  “Let me know how you get on, Penny,” she said. “Alan and I are heading home to Sherebury for Christmas, but if you’re ever out our way, we’d love to see you. You and Gareth, too, of course.”

  Pe
nny thanked her and waved as Dorothy went on her way. She spent a few moments organizing her office, thinking about her brooch, and for the hundredth time regretting the momentary carelessness of leaving her handbag unattended on the reception desk. She was now paying dearly for that.

  Somehow she managed to get through the day with her missing brooch always lurking just beneath her thoughts, waiting to surface again the moment a crack in her concentration appeared. In the evening, grateful for an enthusiastic Eirlys who had taken great care in arranging the nail varnishes on their display shelves, they had finished the final preparations for the new manicure salon. The job done, Penny saw Eirlys safely home and then continued on to her own cottage.

  As she pushed open the door, something jammed under it caught her attention. She bent over and picked up a plain beige envelope which she carried through to the kitchen. Setting her bag down on the countertop, she noticed the envelope was not addressed to anyone. She ripped it open and pulled out two sheets of paper, stapled together, with a yellow Post-it note stuck on the first page.

  She read the message on the Post-it note.

  Told him about brooch, he was upset for you, he’ll be in touch. Here’s photocopy of the report on recent thefts.

  Bethan

  Penny smiled at the underlined for you. She hadn’t thought for a moment that Gareth would be angry at her, but he must be disappointed.

  She peeled off the Post-it note and sat on the sofa to read the report. Written in official police language, the gist of it was that various items had been reported missing from several Llanelen stores, including a charity shop and two or three private residences.

  She looked at the list of missing items: a plate with a daffodil pattern; a biography of John Lennon; a small Royal Doulton figurine in the shape of a shepherdess in a blue dress; one candlestick, part of a pair; a small framed print of Lloyd George’s cottage…