A Knight on the Town

by Hermione Moon

  “She must have been very upset,” Arthur says.

  “I know, that’s the main reason why we let it go,” Fenella replies. “We eventually managed to persuade her that Copper didn’t get the poison from anywhere here, and she apologized, and we agreed to put it behind us. But of course you can’t forget something like that.”

  “No, it must have been quite hurtful.”

  “It was. We love dogs,” Fenella says. “I’d be devastated to think of something happening to one of them while they were staying with us.”

  “Another cookie?” Dylan asks, lifting the plate and offering it to us. Arthur and I both take one, and he lowers the plate back to the table. Fenella reaches out to help herself, and as she does, the sleeve of her sweatshirt slides up her arm, revealing a small tattoo on the inside of her wrist. It’s a black triquetra, and from what I can see, it also has the letters M and S beneath it.

  My heart skips a beat. Arthur taps his fingers on mine beneath the table, so I know he’s spotted it too.

  “Did your other friends know about your argument?” I ask, unable to think of another way to find out who Valerie went to lunch with on Saturday.

  Fenella shakes her head and takes a bite of the cookie. “I didn’t tell them, anyway. Valerie might have, but nobody mentioned it. We were all too busy talking about the party. Leah and Nancy wanted it to be a medieval costume party, because they worked with Valerie sometimes as actors in the Living History group at the abbey. I wasn’t so keen, but of course it was Valerie’s birthday and it was three against one, so I was outnumbered.”

  “Is that Leah Perry?” I ask. She runs the local bookshop in town.

  Fenella nods. “And Nancy Armstrong.”

  Nancy works at Mackenzie’s Jewellery Shop, the place I got Arthur’s ruby made into a ring. I know both her and Leah to say hello to.

  “I am sorry for your loss,” I say. “It must have come as quite a shock this morning. I suppose you’ve been here, working hard.” It’s a clumsy way to check her alibi, and I wait for her to object.

  But she just says, “Yes, Dylan and I get up at six to let the dogs out and give them breakfast. Our son, William, starts work around eight, and we’re busy grooming and exercising them for a few hours. To think that I was walking some of the dogs as if I didn’t have a care in the world when Valerie was falling from that balcony…” She stops talking and sighs.

  I finish off my coffee, and Arthur does the same. “We’d better leave you to it,” I say, rising.

  “I’ll give you a quick tour of the kennels,” Dylan says. “Then you can let us know when you want Merlin to stay.”

  We shake hands with Fenella and head off to the kennels with her husband.

  “Please don’t judge her,” he says as we walk along the garden path. “I know she didn’t seem that upset at Valerie’s death, but she is really. She’s very close with the other women, but that argument with Valerie really upset her.”

  “Of course. I understand,” I reply.

  He leads us into the main building, and we discover Merlin sitting at the edge of a room where half a dozen dogs are playing with a young man. Merlin looks like a wallflower, and glares at me as I stifle a chuckle.

  “This is Gwen and Arthur,” Dylan says. “Merlin’s owners.”

  “He’s been very good,” says the young man who must be William, Dylan’s son. He holds my gaze, his smile widening. He’s good-looking, tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, probably in his early twenties. Fenella said she’d just turned forty, so she must have been very young when she had him.

  To my surprise, he winks at me. I drop my gaze, uncomfortable with that flirtatious gesture. I’m hardly old enough to be his mother, but I’m not used to being hit on by men younger than myself.

  Dylan shows us around the kennels, pointing out where the dogs sleep and the area where they’re groomed, but I already know I’d never bring Merlin here. I wait for as long as seems polite, then say we really must go, and Dylan takes us outside. I don’t look at William again as we leave.

  Waving goodbye, we head back to the car. I remove Merlin’s leash and open the door for him to jump onto the back seat.

  “Don’t be cross with me,” I tell him, bending to kiss his nose.

  “He’s not cross with you,” Arthur says as I go around the car and get in. “He didn’t like it there, that’s all.”

  I buckle myself in. “Why not?”

  “He didn’t like William. Or maybe that was just me.” Arthur gives me a wry look. “I saw him wink at you,” he says, buckling himself in. “I was tempted to ask if he’d lost his rattle.”

  I laugh and start the car. “He was very young.”

  “It was inappropriate of him,” he states, somewhat flatly.

  “It was. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. I know men are attracted to you. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  Heat fills my face, and I look away and steer the car out onto the road.

  “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’ve embarrassed you.”

  “No, it’s okay.” It gives me a warm glow to think he wants me to himself, but I don’t want him to think it’s okay to be overtly jealous. “So what did you think about them all? It was a strange story about the dog being poisoned, wasn’t it?”

  Merlin yelps in the back, and Arthur chuckles. “Valerie accused them of poisoning her other Spaniel,” he explains to him.

  “Do you think they did it?” I ask him.

  “I would imagine they’re very careful about having poison on the property,” he says. “They’re right, it was probably more likely that the dog found something in the garden or out in the park.”

  “Valerie obviously hurt Fenella’s feelings, though.” I take the first turning at the roundabout. “Do you think Fenella resented her enough to kill her?”

  “Who knows?” Arthur says. “She didn’t look like a murderer, but then neither did Mary Paxton.”

  “Good point. What did you think about her alibi?”

  “Walking the dogs? I would think she would easily have been able to slip away for half an hour.”

  I nod. “I could tell you spotted the triquetra tattoo on her arm, by the way.”

  “Yes. I wonder whether Leah and Nancy have them, too?”

  “We might have to investigate,” I reply.

  He grins at me. “Sounds fun.”

  “Fancy a trip to the jewellery shop?”

  “Sure,” he says, so I take the turnoff into town, park the car in the car park by Glastonbury Market Cross, and we walk up the high street.

  “By the way,” Arthur says, “my surname is now Penn, is it?”

  I pull a face at him. “I’m sorry. I’m not great at thinking on my feet.”

  “It’s not a problem. It made me smile.” He holds out his hand, and I slide mine into it.

  Chapter Ten

  Leaving Merlin outside, Arthur and I go into Mackenzie’s Jewellery Shop.

  It’s quiet and cool, with just a couple of customers—a woman looking at an array of watches, and a young guy browsing engagement rings.

  Nancy is talking to the woman, so I go over to the counter at the end and wave to James as he looks up from the room where he works out the back. He rises and comes out with a big smile. He’s shorter than me, and wider, with a shock of thick grey hair and a bushy grey beard. He could have starred in Mel Gibson’s Braveheart. All he needs is a kilt and an axe.

  “Gwen! Good morning, how are you?” I love his strong Scottish accent.

  “I’m good, thank you. You?”

  “Well, thanks.” His gaze slides to Arthur, and his smile broadens.

  “James,” I say, “this is Arthur Penn, for whom you made the ruby ring.”

  Arthur holds his right hand up to show him where it sits on his little finger, then smiles and holds out his hand, and James shakes it.

  “We’re lucky it fitted,” James says. “You’re a big guy, Arthur. Do you need me to resi
ze the ring?”

  “No, it’s perfect, thank you. You did a beautiful job.”

  “Well, thank you. It’s certainly an interesting stone. Scottish, if I’m not mistaken, and with a very interesting crystalline structure, almost like amber encasing a fly.” His eyes are shrewd. I don’t know what he suspects, but I’m sure it’s not that Arthur’s soul is imprisoned inside the gem.

  “I don’t know much about precious stones,” Arthur says cheerfully. “It’s a nice colour.”

  James smiles. “What can I do for you today?”

  “Arthur needs a watch,” I say. “I thought we’d have a browse.”

  “Of course.” The shop is now empty, and he gestures to his assistant. “Nancy will be pleased to show you whatever takes your fancy.”

  We move across to the watch cabinets, and I smile at Nancy Armstrong. She’s around the same age as Valerie and Fenella—late thirties, early forties, small and slight, with blonde hair cut in a bob, and wearing a white blouse and black skirt. The blouse is long-sleeved, so I can’t see if she has a tattoo on her wrist. Pearls adorn her ears, and a couple of expensive-looking rings rest on her fingers. She’s not wearing a wedding ring, though.

  “Hello, Nancy,” I say, and she smiles back. She comes into the café for a coffee sometimes, but we’ve only ever exchanged pleasantries. “Come on Arthur,” I tell him, tugging his arm to pull him to the cabinet. “Come and choose a watch.”

  He bends over the cabinet, looking at the selection, and I roll my eyes at Nancy. “We might be a while,” I tell her, “he’s terrible at making up his mind.”

  “No worries,” she replies, “we’re quiet at the moment. Take as long as you need.”

  “Not at work today?” James asks from where he’s doing some paperwork by the till. “Don’t tell me you’ve actually got a day off.”

  “I have. I was showing Arthur around,” I tell them. “It was meant to be a fun day, but it didn’t start off very well.”

  “Why?” Nancy asks, taking out a tray of watches as Arthur indicates one that he likes. She removes it and gives it to him. “What happened this morning?”

  “Oh, we happened to discover something at the abbey.” It suddenly occurs to me that Nancy might not know. I don’t want to be the one to tell her.

  But her face pales, and she presses her fingers to her lips. “Oh no. You weren’t the ones to find Valerie?”

  “Yes.” I watch James look over in alarm, and he comes around the cabinets to stand next to Nancy, concerned.

  “You poor thing,” he says, “that must have been awful. We heard about it earlier.”

  “It was quite a shock.” I help Arthur with the clasp of the watch, and he clips it shut, then turns his arm, studying how it looks.

  “We were friends,” Nancy whispers. “I still can’t believe it.”

  “I told her to go home,” James scolds, “but she wouldn’t go.”

  “I’d only sit at home thinking about it.” Nancy takes the watch back from Arthur and passes him another to try.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell her. “I didn’t realize the two of you were friends. I wouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, it’s okay. You weren’t to know. Do the police know what happened yet? Did Valerie kill herself?”

  “They’re investigating now.” I shake my head at Arthur as he studies the second watch, and he nods his agreement and takes it off, then taps another one. “We bumped into her sister-in-law, Kianna, this morning. She was telling us that Valerie’s been depressed.”

  “Yes.” Nancy undoes the buckle on the leather strap and passes it to Arthur. “She hasn’t been herself for a while. We were trying to cheer her up because it would have been her fortieth birthday next week, and we were going to hold a fancy-dress party. She and I were part of the Living History group at the abbey. I work there on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons.”

  “That must be an interesting job,” I say.

  “Yes, we all really enjoy it. Leah—that’s our other friend who’s part of the group—came up with the idea. She suggested that Valerie and Bradley could dress up like a king and queen, and then we could hold a medieval-style banquet. It would have been such fun.” Her eyes glisten, and she swallows hard.

  “I’m so sorry,” I tell her gently. “Do you think she killed herself?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. She was very down.”

  “Do you know why? Was it to do with turning forty?”

  “I don’t think so. All of us are around the same age. I’ll be hitting the big four-oh at the end of the year. She certainly wasn’t alone. We talked about it quite a bit, and she seemed okay with it. It was only the last few weeks that she’d been a bit low.”

  “It must be very hard for you to lose such a good friend. Were you very close?”

  “I’d known her a long time.”

  It’s not the straight answer I was expecting, and I exchange a glance with Arthur, who seems taken with the watch with the leather strap. “What’s this number?” he murmurs, pointing to the small box with the number twenty-four.

  “It’s the date,” I whisper back. “The twenty-fourth of March.”

  “Amazing,” he says. He turns to James. “I’ve never seen inside a watch. I don’t suppose you have any I could look at?”

  James’s eyebrows rise. “Of course. I’ll fetch you one.” He disappears for a moment, then comes back with one he’s working on. The back is missing, revealing its mechanism. He and Arthur bend over it, and he gives Arthur an eyepiece so he can study it in detail. I smile, thinking how sometimes Arthur is like a child, fascinated with everything he sees.

  I look back at Nancy to find her watching him. I can tell by the look on her face that she finds him attractive. Her gaze comes back to me, and she looks down and starts putting the other watches away.

  “Working as part of the Living History team must be fun,” I say, brushing aside my irritation.

  “It is.” She slides the tray back into the cabinet. “They’ve recently expanded the team, and they’ve been training us so we can give better guided tours of the site.”

  Something makes me glance across at the door, and I see Merlin sitting there, looking through the glass at me. He sneezes. My gaze slides back to Nancy.

  “Who’s in charge of the team?” I ask.

  She concentrates on the catch of the last watch. “They interviewed for the role a few weeks ago. Valerie got it.” She puts the watch back on the stand and replaces it in the cabinet.

  “Did you go for the position?”

  “We all did.” She closes the cabinet and locks it. “Valerie was always able to talk her way into anything though; it wasn’t a surprise that she got the job.” She gives me a smile, but she’s unable to hide the flicker of resentment she obviously feels.

  I have an idea then, and I point to a clock on the wall, almost out of her reach. “I really like that clock. Could I have a closer look at it, please?”

  “Of course.” She stretches up to retrieve it. As she does so, the sleeves of her blouse fall back. I take a step to the side, just in time to see the black triquetra tattoo on the inside of her wrist before the sleeve covers it again. “Here you go.” She places the clock on the table, and I study it for a moment, umm and aah, then tell her I think I’ll leave it.

  “That is just fascinating,” Arthur says, straightening from where he was examining the workings of the watch. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It’s so intricate.”

  “It’s rare for someone to appreciate the beauty of the mechanism in this day and age,” James remarks.

  “Oh, Arthur’s a man out of his time,” I joke. I join him at the counter and take out my credit card. “You’re sure you like this one?” I ask him.

  He nods, so Nancy rings up the amount on the till, and I pay for it.

  “Well, thank you,” I say as Arthur puts the new watch on. “And I’m sorry about Valerie.”

  “Me too,” Nancy says.

  “It must
have been a shock,” I add. “Were you here when you got the news?”

  “Yes; I got to work at about a quarter to nine. My coffee break was at eleven, but I didn’t take it because a customer had just told us what had happened, and we were all talking about it for a while.”

  I nod. “Well, I am sorry for your loss. We’ll leave you to it now.”

  “Take care, you two,” James says, and we wave and leave the shop.

  “Did you see the triquetra?” I ask Arthur as we walk slowly down the high street, Merlin at my side.

  “No,” Arthur says. “Oh, interesting, so she had one, too.”

  “Yes. Very mysterious, isn’t it? And it’s odd; even though Valerie had all these friends, she seems to have had a knack for rubbing them up the wrong way.”

  “Do you think that Nancy could have had a hand in her death?”

  I frown. “I don’t know. It’s a big jump from being resentful because someone else got the job you wanted to murdering them.”

  “True. So Nancy had been working there all morning.”

  “Presumably that gives her an alibi?”

  “I guess. I’m sure James would have said if she happened to go out at some point.” He lifts his hand and looks at his watch.

  “Do you like it?” I ask him softly.

  “I love it. But you have to stop spending your money on me.”

  “Not yet,” I tell him. “We need to get you some more clothes first.” I take his hand and lead him toward Lilliput’s—a small shop that sells menswear. “Come on. Let’s get you some basics.”

  I can think of worse things to do than watch Arthur trying on clothes. When he sees the array of clothing available, it’s like watching a kid in a sweet shop. Soon he’s trying on jeans, T-shirts, shirts, and sweaters, and each time he comes out of the changing room and poses to show me the result.

  We take the final selection to the till, and I add several packets of boxers and socks, and a bottle of nice aftershave. I try not to gulp as the assistant rings up the total and pass her my credit card. I’ll have to dip into my savings again, but when it comes down to it, I’m not saving up for anything special, and Arthur can’t go without clothes.