Constable Evans 02: Evan Help Us (18 page)

Bronwen smiled at his confusion. “Half-day holiday for parent conferences. I’m supposed to be down there, going through report cards, but I had to take a quick break.”

“Funny, I was just thinking about you,” Evan said.

“That’s nice.” Bronwen’s cornflower blue eyes met his.

Evan nodded. “I was thinking how I’m always able to see things more clearly when I can talk them through with you.”

Bronwen sat on the rock. “Alright. Try me.”

“You’re supposed to be meeting parents.”

“Not for an hour.” She patted the rock beside her. “Come on. Sit down. I’d like to help, if I can.”

Evan sat. “I suppose you heard that Ted Morgan was killed this morning?”

Bronwen nodded. “And that they took away Evans-the-Meat, hollering and yelling.”

Evan sighed. “He was the obvious suspect. Everyone saw him threaten to kill Ted last night.”

“But you don’t think he did?”

“I didn’t think so,” Evan said. “Now I’m not so sure. I was just thinking—what do I really know about him, apart from being a rabid Welsh nationalist and having a hot temper and liking good beer?”

“Why did you think he hadn’t killed Ted Morgan?” Bronwen asked. “Just loyalty?”

Evan shook his head. “It wasn’t his type of crime. A little pearl handled revolver. A bullet between the eyes?”

“You think Evans-the-Meat would have cut him in half with the cleaver?” Bronwen suggested. “Or throttled him with his bare hands?”

“More likely,” Evan agreed. “And only when he was good and drunk and his temper was up. Not later, when he’d cooled down. But now I’m wondering, Bron. Annie Pigeon reported a prowler. What if that was Evans-the-Meat? He told me his wife is away a lot. What if he is the kind of man who peeps through windows at attractive women?”

“It would be easy enough to slip from his place to her back yard through the bushes,” Bronwen agreed. “But surely people would know. Everyone knows everything in a place like this.”

“Maybe it’s just Annie he’s after,” Evan said. “A sexy woman suddenly arrives in Llanfair when his wife is away? She’s the type that turns heads.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Bronwen said dryly.

Evan ignored the comment and went on. “And maybe Annie wasn’t quite telling the truth when she said that she’d forgotten about the gun.”

“The gun? It belonged to that woman?”

“She said she’d forgotten she owned it. She suggested the prowler must have found it when he broke in. But I’m wondering if she didn’t take it out when Evans-the-Meat was watching, so that he knew where to find it when he needed a weapon to kill Ted Morgan.”

“It’s possible,” Bronwen agreed.

“The one thing that doesn’t make sense is the colonel.”

Bronwen looked up, surprised. “The colonel?”

“Evans-the-Meat would never have killed him, would he?”

Bronwen’s eyes opened even wider. “You’re saying that the colonel was killed? We all thought it was an accident.”

“We kept quiet about it until now. We didn’t want to alarm anybody. But someone hit the colonel over the head and pushed him into the river.”

“And you don’t think Evans-the-Meat could have done that?”

Evan shook his head. “He liked the colonel, didn’t he? Besides, he was excited that the colonel had just discovered the site of an ancient ruin and that Llanfair might soon have its own historical monument.”

“But he didn’t want more tourism, remember.”

“That’s not a strong enough reason to kill the colonel. He might have wanted to stop Ted Morgan’s theme park, but that was different.” He paused, trying to remember clearly. “Besides,” he added, “Evans-the-Meat couldn’t have killed the colonel. He was in the pub long after the colonel left. I’d swear to that.”

“Which must mean that there are two killers, within two days, in a little place like Llanfair. That doesn’t seem likely.” Bronwen pushed her hair out from her face and started to get to her feet. “I’m sorry, but I really should be heading back. My first appointment is at two-thirty. Freddie Price’s mother. I’ve got to find a way to tell her politely that she spoils her son.”

Evan smiled and stood up too. “We’ve all got our own problems. I’ll walk down with you.”

They started down the trail.

“So what are you going to do?” Bronwen asked over her shoulder.

“I don’t know. As Sergeant Watkins said, if I want to remove Evans-the-Meat from the prime suspect list, I’ve got to come up with someone better.”

“Like who?”

Evan shrugged. “The ones who benefit from Ted Morgan’s death are his sister and brother-in-law. But they didn’t even know the colonel. And they didn’t know Annie Pigeon and they didn’t know that she owned a gun.”

“What makes you so sure that you’re looking for a local person?” Bronwen asked. “If both the colonel and Ted Morgan came from London, why wouldn’t their killer have come from there too? I’d get the London police to start looking into their lives down there.”

“The D.I. has already started that ball rolling,” Evan said. “All this has nothing to do with me, really. I found the bodies and called in the detectives. Now I’m supposed to go back to being the village bobby and mind my own business.”

“But you’re not going to, are you?” Bronwen flashed him a challenging smile.

“I’d like to find out the truth for myself,” Evan admitted.

They had reached the path leading to the schoolhouse. Bronwen paused. “I’ll help any way I can. You know that, Evan.”

“Thanks, Bron. See you then.”

“I’m looking forward to Saturday.”

“Saturday?” For a second his mind was blank.

“The Italian restaurant. Don’t tell me you’d already forgotten. Our first real date?” She looked hurt.

“Oh no. I hadn’t forgotten. It’s just I’ve had so much on my mind, these past few days. The Italian restaurant—that will be nice.”

“You sound as if it’s a visit to the dentist,” Bronwen chided.

“No, really. I’m looking forward to it too,” Evan insisted. “I’ll look out my good suit.”

Bronwen laughed. “The one you only wear for funerals? It’s just dinner, Evan. Nothing more serious.”

She tossed her long braid over her shoulder and strode out toward the back gate of the schoolhouse. Evan smiled as he watched her go. This reluctance to get involved with a woman again was stupid, he told himself. It was about time he got out there and started enjoying life. Forget about a murder investigation that was none of his business …

*   *   *

He was glad when the clock ticked around to opening time at the Red Dragon. There had been no more word from HQ and Evans-the-Meat hadn’t reappeared. Evan hoped the butcher hadn’t got himself into deeper trouble with his loose tongue. For once he had a good excuse for going to the pub. Most of the other men would be there and one of them might know something. One of them might even be the murderer, and murderers were supposed to be cocky, weren’t they? They enjoyed talking about the crime and asking how the police were coming along in their investigation. Evan would be alert for any of that.

The main bar was almost empty. Betsy was standing alone, lost in thought. She was dressed, for once, in a simple flowery dress with short sleeves. A shaft of sunlight was falling on her, giving her an aura of innocence and purity which she didn’t often possess. Evan stood for a second, watching her. Maybe he had been too hasty in deciding that she wasn’t his type.

As if sensing his eyes on her, Betsy looked up and smiled. “Rough day, eh, Evan bach?” She began filling a pint mug without being asked. “Here, get this inside you. It will make a new man of you, although I can’t say that there was much wrong with the old one,” she added, her eyes travelling over him with approval.

“Thanks, love. Cheers,” Evan said, draining half the mug of McAffrey’s in one swallow. “I needed that.”

“Everyone’s been talking about it,” Betsy went on. “No one can rightly believe it. Ted Morgan—he seemed like a chap who was full of himself, didn’t he? I’ve been looked at by enough men to know when a chap thinks he’s hot stuff. And that’s how Ted Morgan looked at me—even though he was almost old enough to be my father and I’d never have gone out with him anyway, even if he was rich.”

Evan drained the rest of the glass. “It doesn’t look as though he did pull the trigger himself.”

“That’s what I was wondering. I hear they took poor old Evans-the-Meat away for questioning. What do they think he might have to do with it?”

“He did try to throttle Ted Morgan in full view of everyone last night.”

“Oh that? That’s just Evans-the-Meat. You know how he is. All hot air, but harmless really, isn’t he? They should know that. Same again?” she took the glass without waiting for an answer and began to fill it. “I just hope he doesn’t act daft and start saying things he’ll regret later,” she went on. “You know, like threatening to kill the Queen of England or accusing the inspector of being an Englishman.”

Evan smiled. “You’re right. He can be a bloody fool at times, can’t he? But you don’t think he could really kill someone, do you?”

“By mistake, maybe, but I don’t see him going up to someone’s house and shooting them.”

“Somebody did.”

“I don’t know why they’re looking here,” Betsy said. “I mean, none of us knew Ted Morgan, did we? He went away before I was born and I don’t think he’s kept in touch with any of the people around here. Who knows what he had been doing for twenty years?”

Evan nodded.

“Probably some disgruntled woman that he walked out on,” Betsy said. “He was a flirt, alright. He looked at me like he wanted to undress me, if you know what I mean. What’s the betting she followed him here and gave him what he deserved.”

“Have you noticed any disgruntled women wandering about Llanfair?” Evan chuckled. “Someone would have seen her.”

“Not necessarily,” Betsy said with a knowing look. “It was the night of the big meeting, remember? Everyone was at the hall. Anyone could have come into the village, gone up to Ted Morgan’s cottage, and waited for him there. There were lots of strange cars parked and people driving away, weren’t there?”

“Betsy, you know, you should have been a detective,” Evan said.

“I’d settle for marrying one some day.”

“Do you want me to ask Sergeant Watkins if there are any single blokes down at HQ?”

Betsy made a face. “If I weren’t working here, I’d throw this glass all over you,” she said. “You can’t keep running for ever, Evan Evans.”

“I have enough complications in my life right now without worrying about women,” Evan said.

“Then you should go up to London and see who had a real reason to kill Ted Morgan,” Betsy said.

“How can I? I’m not a member of the C.I.D. I’m the community police officer for Llanfair district, nothing more.”

“There’s nothing to stop you from doing some snooping in your spare time, is there?”

Evan grinned. “Maybe you’re right.”

“And if you felt like taking someone with you to London … someone who’s been dying to see a West End show and do some shopping in Oxford Street?”

“I’ll see if Sergeant Watkins is free this weekend,” Evan finished for her.

This time she threw an ice cube at him. Evan dodged and nearly backed into someone who had just come in. “Oh, Annie, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there,” he muttered. “I was being attacked.”

“So I saw,” Annie said. “I can’t stay. I left the little one watching the telly, but I saw you going into the pub and I wanted to buy you a drink, to thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

“Me? It was nothing, Annie. I was just doing my job.” Evan was beginning to feel hot and uncomfortable. He was very aware of Betsy’s critical stare.

“Oh you did far more than that and you know it,” Annie went on. “You’ve been such a comfort to me, to know that you’re there, just in case.”

“In case what?”

“I need protecting, I suppose,” she said simply. “I thought I could get along just fine without a man in my life, but there are times when it’s good to have a big, strong bloke around.”

“Can I get you something, miss?” Betsy asked in Welsh.

Annie looked blank.

“She doesn’t speak Welsh, Betsy,” Evan said. “She’s just moved here.”

“She’d better learn in a hurry if she wants to know what people are saying, hadn’t she?” Betsy said, also in Welsh.

Evan turned to Annie. “She was asking what you were drinking, and I’m paying, by the way.”

“But I wanted to treat you.”

“Treat him to what?” Betsy muttered in Welsh.

“I won’t hear of it,” Evan said.

Annie gave him a dazzling smile. “I do like a man who’s forceful and masterly. Thanks then, I’ll have a quick lager and lime.”

“A lager and quicklime?” Betsy asked with the barest hint of a smile.

Evan decided there was nothing wrong with Betsy’s brain. She might act like a dumb blonde sometimes, but her wit was sharp enough when needed. She poured the drink and Evan handed it to Annie.

“Have you got time to sit for a minute?” Evan asked.

She glanced at the door. “I really shouldn’t leave her too long, but we could sit by the window, couldn’t we, so I could keep an eye on the front door. I told her not to move until I get back. She should be fine.”

She led the way to the table in the window and sat down.

“I was that shook up today,” she said. “Finding out that my gun was missing and knowing what they’d think. I felt so stupid that it didn’t cross my mind before, but honestly, I don’t think I even remember seeing it when I unpacked. I just shoved all my undies into the drawer and the gun must have been with them.”

“What if it wasn’t?” Evan asked. “What if someone had taken it before you moved? Is that possible?”

“Who would do that?”

“I thought you might be able to tell me.”

Annie shook her head. “No one that I can think of. I was staying with a girlfriend. I told you, I hadn’t even thought about that gun for years. But it was lucky that I thought I heard a prowler, wasn’t it? Or you’d never have been at my house all evening and they might have suspected me.” She took a sip of her drink. “But I hear they already got the bloke that did it. Do you reckon he was the one who broke in when you and I were on our little walk on Sunday?”

“I’ve no idea,” Evan said. “They took fingerprints from your cottage today, didn’t they? We’ll just have to see if any of them match.”