Murder on the Hour (25 page)

“Oh, yes. Did she find a place to stay?”

“She did. A nice little room right across the street from us, if you can believe it. That was quite the traumatic experience for her. Something you'd never dream would happen to you. You're just going about your business, finding a place to live, and you happen upon a murder scene.”

“No, you wouldn't expect that to happen to you in a million years,” agreed Penny.

“I'm sure she thinks about it a lot. She was in such a state when we found her. The police interviewed her soon after, I think, while her memory was fresh. I wonder if she's remembered anything since. Sometimes things come back to you when you least expect it, don't they? Somebody says something, or you see something and it reminds you of the very thing you've been trying to remember.”

“Yes,” said Penny thoughtfully, “yes, sometimes things do come back to you, with a little prompting.”

“I thought when it happened that Florence and I might be able to solve the mystery but of course we don't have the resources that the police do, so we decided to leave it to the professionals,” said Mrs. Lloyd with a slightly crafty look at Penny. If she picked up on the little dig, Penny did not show it. “But I have my suspicions, though.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Well, that married man I saw Catrin with. Brad Driscoll, it was. As I said to Florence it's the oldest reason in the book. The mistress says, ‘I want you to leave your wife and marry me,' and the man says, ‘I can't do that because of the children,' and the mistress says, ‘Then I'll tell your wife about us,' and he feels he has no option but to kill her.” Mrs. Lloyd gave Penny a sorrowful look. “To silence her, you see.”

“Well, that's certainly plausible,” said Penny, “but of the two, I would have picked Tegwen as the more likely killer. She goes to Catrin's home to confront her because she thinks Catrin is having an affair with her husband, they argue, and in the heat of the moment, it all gets out of hand and poor Catrin ends up dead.”

“Oh, no, Penny. As I explained to Florence, if she found out her husband was having an affair, her first thought would be to kill him, not Catrin.”

Penny laughed. “I can't help thinking, though. Is Brad Driscoll really the kind of man worth killing for?”

It was Mrs. Lloyd's turn to laugh. “Is any man?”

With the manicure finished and Mrs. Lloyd on her way, Penny rang Davies to tell him that according to Mrs. Lloyd, Jessica had not gone on honeymoon, and could have been at her parents' home on Sunday night when the churchyard was vandalized.

“I know,” he said. “I saw her there today. Look, I can't really talk now, I'm in the car, but perhaps we can meet up later.”

“Let's,” said Penny. “Because something Mrs. Lloyd said has given me an idea.”

*   *   *

“Jessica told us she'd come home Saturday night when we went round to ask about the piece of paper found in her bedroom,” said Davies. “Oh, and by the way, I'm sorry, but she wasn't long in figuring out who must have seen it there. We dropped poor Eirlys in it, I'm afraid, but I told her that it wasn't Eirlys who told the police about it. We still haven't been able to establish how it got there or more importantly, who put it there. Now tell me your idea.”

“Mrs. Lloyd said something like someone can make a chance remark or do something that triggers a memory, and that got me thinking, so I just wanted to put it to you in case you think it might have some merit.”

When she had finished explaining what she had in mind, Davies nodded.

“We're just a little bit ahead of you,” he said. “We've been thinking the same thing. What is that old proverb? ‘If you want to catch a fish, stir the waters'? Now, I can use your help in setting it up, but once events are in motion, you have to promise me you'll stay well out of it and let us do our work. And you'll have to follow instructions exactly. No thinking for yourself. You're very well meaning but you have to leave it to us.”

“Of course,” said Penny. “Now we just have to—”

Davies interrupted her. “Sorry, ‘of course' isn't good enough. I know what you're like. I need your absolute assurance that once this starts to go down you'll stay well out of it. Don't stick your oar in. Don't interfere. If you do, you could jeopardize the whole operation. Now, do I have your word?”

“Yes, you do,” said Penny.

“Now how can we make sure our suspects know about this, I wonder. It needs to be done in a casual, conversational kind of way. They mustn't suspect anything. Do they ever go out for dinner, I wonder?” Davies asked. “We could mention it in a way that they would overhear.”

“The best way might be through Haydn Williams,” Penny said slowly. “I could find a reason to visit him, let him know that Jean's remembered something critically important to solving the case. He'll be sure to pass it on to Hughes. Oh, and then there's Jean, of course.”

“We've already spoken to her. She's agreed to help but is understandably rather anxious. But remember, you need to stay well out of it. If you don't, Jean could be in great danger.”

 

Thirty-seven

The next afternoon Penny and her sketching partner, Alwynne Gwilt, with a sheaf of drawings under their arms, once again walked up the unpaved road that led to Haydn Williams's farm. Finding an excuse to call on him had been the easy part. Getting him to commit to a time had been the challenge.

“Hello, Haydn. It's Penny here, Penny Brannigan, yes. Alwynne and I were wondering if you'd be home tomorrow. We just wanted to pop in for a few minutes and show you the sketches we did at your farm. Thought you might like to see what we came up with,” Penny had said while DCI Davies listened, his arms folded and eyes closed. At the end of every sentence he nodded encouragement.

Penny listened for a few minutes while Haydn explained all about the busy day he had planned. He and Evan Hughes were thinking of buying an award-winning ram together and were going out to inspect it. He wasn't exactly sure what time they'd be back, but finally suggested four o'clock. He should be back by then but if not, they should just make themselves at home until he arrived. The kitchen door was always open and they wouldn't have to worry about Kip as he'd be with the men. He never missed the chance of a ride in the Land Rover, did Kip.

There had been some discussion about whether Penny should go alone, but Davies had decided it would look more natural if Alwynne accompanied her. And although he didn't anticipate any trouble, the situation would be safer with the two of them.

Haydn wasn't home when they arrived, so following his instructions they let themselves in. They didn't have long to wait until the sound of the Land Rover rocking its way up the rutted lane was followed by excited barking and then Kip raced into the kitchen, followed by two men.

Haydn greeted them, and headed straight for the cupboard to pour himself a whisky. He offered a drink to his companion, Evan Hughes, who shook his head.

Penny and Alwynne had laid their sketches out on the table and the two men bent over to examine them.

“I like this one,” Haydn said, pointing to a sketch by Alwynne, who unable to resist, gave Penny a teasingly triumphant smile.

“What about mine here with the little black sheep?” Penny asked. “Oh, it's nice, too,” said Haydn. “Did you enjoy yourselves that day? Do you get out sketching much?”

They talked about the sketches for a few minutes and then Penny skillfully brought the conversation round to the real point of their visit.

“I heard there's been a development in the Catrin Bellis case,” she said.

“Really?” said Haydn with a quick glance at his friend. “What's happened?”

“Well, apparently the police are going to do a reenactment of the crime. You know, with actors. They film it and show it on telly in hopes it will jog someone's memory. They're doing it because apparently there's a witness who arrived on the scene soon after it happened and they're hoping she'll remember an important detail. She may have even seen the killer. Who knows?”

“How do you know all this?” asked Hughes. “You seem very well informed.”

“Oh, everybody in our Spa's talking about it,” said Penny with a smile she hoped didn't betray how nervous she was. “You know what women are like. At the Spa we're always first to hear all the interesting bits of news making the rounds.

“But this time it's going to be a little different,” she continued. “Although they use actors, the real person who discovered the body will be on hand in case seeing it all so vividly helps her recall an important detail.”

“Do you know who this person is?” asked Haydn.

“Yes, her name's Jean. She works in the library.”

“And when are they going to do all this?” asked Evan.

“Tomorrow, just after one o'clock, same time as Catrin's body was discovered. They do it at the same time as the actual crime so everything looks the same and hopefully, people are in the same place as they were on the day it happened. You know, if you were just coming back from lunch for example.

“And apparently the actress playing Jean will even be wearing her clothes. They like everything to be as near as possible to the real thing.”

Penny packed up the sketches. “Well, Haydn, thank you again for the lovely day we had sketching here.”

“Do you need a ride into town?” asked Hughes. “I'm going in anyway to pick up my wife.”

“Oh, no, thank you,” said Alwynne. “We've made arrangements, thanks. My husband will be here in a few minutes to pick us up.”

*   *   *

“How did it go?” Davies asked. Alwynne's husband had dropped Penny off at the Spa and she'd walked the short distance to the police station where Davies was waiting for her.

“Very well, I think. It was even easier than we thought it would be because Evan Hughes was there, too. I explained everything and they both seemed interested but I couldn't really get a reading on either of them.”

Davies rested his chin in his hand and said nothing.

“Do you think the killer will turn up?” Penny asked.

“Oh, yes,” said Davies. “I'm very confident he'll be there. It'll be just too good to miss. You've heard how arsonists like to attend their own fires? It'll be like that. And besides, I think we're dealing with someone here who has a pretty good opinion of himself. Most murderers aren't really all that clever.” He grinned at her. “We just let them think they are. And we let them think we're a little thicker than we really are.”

“There's something I've been wondering about,” said Penny. “If the killer escaped through the back door, as seems likely, why are you filming at the front of the house?”

“We'll be filming the front door as the killer goes in, and the secondary location at Mrs. Lloyd's,” said Davies. “The killer likely went in the front door, and out the back, so we hope someone saw him or her in one or other of those places.

“Right,” he added. “Let's do this and see who comes out of the woodwork.”

 

Thirty-eight

Thyme Close had been blocked off to vehicles, but people on foot were being allowed in and told to stand behind the metal barricades that had been erected on the pavement opposite the front door of Catrin Bellis's house. A small film crew milled about, setting up a camera on a tripod, laying cable, and checking details on a clipboard.

Penny and Victoria stood behind the barricade, with Jean Bryson between them, both hands clutching the top of the barricade. Penny stole a glance behind them and nodded to several acquaintances, including Haydn Williams and the Hughes family.

As spectators continued to arrive, DCI Davies positioned himself at the back of the crowd, now two and three deep in places. In his casual clothes, he blended in with everyone around him; only his eyes, constantly scanning the crowd would have suggested he was anything other than a curious onlooker.

Jean Bryson's eyes were busy, too. She peered anxiously toward the end of the street, then turned her gaze to Catrin Bellis's front door, then back to the end of the street.

And then, after a crew member called for quiet and the crowd fell silent, a woman turned into the street and all eyes turned toward her. Wearing Jean's coat over her purple plaid skirt and lavender-coloured blouse, she walked slowly down the street, occasionally glancing at a small piece of paper in her hand. The woman in Jean's clothing checked the paper one last time and then walked up the path that led to Catrin Bellis's front door. She pushed gently on the door and then entered the house.

A moment later, two other women entered the street and Penny stifled a little gasp. It was Mrs. Lloyd and Florence themselves. She raised an amused eyebrow to Victoria, who made a little gesture with her hand.

When Mrs. Lloyd and Florence had almost reached the end of the street, the woman playing the part of Jean Bryson ran screaming out of Catrin's house, Mrs. Lloyd and Florence turned around, and the woman ran up to them. The three stayed as they were, frozen in place, until the director called “cut.” The crew examined their monitors, exchanged a few words with one another, and then, apparently satisfied that they'd captured all the action, began to pack up their equipment. Many people in the crowd who'd been been filming the filming lowered their mobile phones. DCI Davies walked around the edge of the crowd to join Penny, Victoria, and Jean.

“Is that it?” asked Penny.

“Yes, for now,” he replied, not looking at her. He touched her arm and spoke in a low voice. “Get ready. Here we go. Don't say anything now.” And then, in a louder, normal voice, he said, “We're moving now to Rosemary Lane to capture the second part of the event.”

Jean, standing beside him, clutched at his arm and turned slightly so her profile was visible to the people behind them. “Before we go, Inspector, I've just remembered something. Seeing this has brought it all back, just like you hoped it would. I did see someone. He was in the kitchen.”