Never Laugh as a Hearse Goes By: A Penny Brannigan Mystery (5 page)

A Library staff member passed amongst them, offering glasses of wine, followed by another server who held a tray of elegant canapés. Minty circulated from little group to little group, making introductions where necessary and exchanging a pleasant word or two with everyone.

“Ah, Miss Russell, have you met my wife, Bronwyn?” Thomas Evans introduced the two women, who smiled at each other.

“No, I don’t think I have. So nice,” Minty said. “I know Reverend Evans from his name on the Llanelen records and reports, of course. Mind you, I haven’t been to Llanelen in years. Is the tea shop still there, just beside the bridge? Lovely scones, as I recall.”

As Bronwyn was about to reply, the conversation level dropped and died away as two men entered the room. All heads turned toward them. One, a tall man in his early sixties with thinning grey hair that looked as if it had missed its shampoo date two or three days ago and wearing a clerical collar, looked around the room with cheerful confidence bordering on arrogance. The heavyset man by his side seemed much younger.

“Oh no, he hasn’t,” muttered Minty. “I distinctly informed Reverend Shipton that the bishop had forbidden him to bring his, er, friend. Companion. Partner. Whatever.” The bishop, who was deeper down the room toward the fireplace, looked up from his conversation with Warden Graham Fletcher and seeing the two men, broke off abruptly and walked toward them. A small cluster of throbbing veins appeared at his left temple.

“Reverend Shipton,” he said with an arctic edge to his voice.

The taller of the two men smiled at him. “Yes, good evening, Bishop, and I’d like to introduce my partner.” He grinned at the man standing next to him. “This is Azumi Odogwu.” Mr. Odogwu smiled shyly at the bishop, revealing very large, gleaming white teeth set in a shiny, very dark face.

The bishop did not offer to shake hands. He turned and looked around the crowd until he saw who he was looking for, standing beside Thomas and Bronwyn.

“I did tell him, Bishop,” Minty said in a low voice a few moments later. “I made it very clear that it was compulsory that he attend but that you had forbidden his male partner to accompany him. I told him his partner would not be welcome.” The bishop scowled.

“Well, Minty, you will just have to tell him again and this time, in a way that leaves no doubt I mean what I say and that I expect him to respect my wishes.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. “And now I must make my welcoming speech.”

“Oh, but tell him now … in front of all these people? I don’t think I would feel comfortable doing that, Bishop. Could we not wait until after the reception and then I could have a quiet word with him? Do you not think that would be much better? We wouldn’t want to make a scene and spoil the occasion for everyone else. The conference is just getting started.”

“Very well. But his friend is not to spend the night here.” Minty could hear the quotation marks framing the word
friend
. “That would be unthinkable. And make sure Nigel Shipton has been assigned a single room. Single, if you understand my meaning.”

He strode off and resumed his position in front of the fireplace, commanding the room. All eyes turned toward him and everyone listened attentively as he made his opening remarks.

When he had finished, Bronwyn gave Minty a kind, sympathetic look. “If you’d like, Miss Russell, I’d be glad to help you find the right phrases to use for this unpleasant task. I borrowed a magazine recently from the library and there was an article in it on how to defuse a difficult situation with thoughtful words. How you can say what you need to say tactfully and kindly, without harshness or in a way that could cause hurt.”

“Please, Bronwyn, do call me Minty. And yes, I’d be very interested in hearing what the article had to say.” She smiled gratefully and as the party chatter resumed around them, a server approached carrying a tray. She lowered it so the little group could examine its contents.

“Oh, yes please. Prawns!” said Bronwyn. “I love them. How about you, Minty? Will you have one?”

Minty shook her head and held up her hands, waving them slightly.

“No, I couldn’t possibly. I have the most dreadful allergy to shellfish. All seafood. Even just a bite of one of those prawns would make me terribly ill. I have to be very careful.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” said Bronwyn, helping herself to a prawn mounted on a little stick with a cherry tomato where its head used to be. “A cousin of mine had an allergy to nuts and what a nuisance it was. She carried a device around with her so she could give herself an injection in case she should accidentally be exposed to nut oil, which is apparently more common than you might think. Do you have such a thing?”

“It’s called an EpiPen,” said Minty. “It delivers a dose of epinephrine. And yes, I have one, and I always make sure it’s in date.” She patted the worn brown handbag slung over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without it. I’ve had to use it once or twice and I believe it saved my life.”

She glanced around the room. The small reception was beginning to thin out but Reverend Shipton and Mr. Odogwu were still there.

“Well, I’d better have a word with them before they escape,” Minty said to Bronwyn in a low voice. “You know, everything about this beautiful building speaks to forward thinking, inclusion, tolerance and liberal values. The irony of what I am about to do is not lost on me.”

Thomas and Bronwyn watched as she made her way to the two men, one tall, one short, one white, one black.

As the concerned couple exchanged sympathetic glances, Thomas muttered something. “Sorry, dear, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I said, ‘Talk about sending a boy to do a man’s job.’”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I probably shouldn’t say what I really think about the bishop sending his secretary to speak to them, but the words ‘dirty work’ and ‘cowardly’ come to mind. Minty strikes me as a wonderfully competent woman and he’s very lucky to have her.”

With her back to the Evanses, Minty continued her conversation with the two men. Her tensed shoulders were raised slightly and occasionally she raised a hand, palm outstretched, in what looked like a pleading gesture. Reverend Shipton glared at her, and his companion looked up at him with a worried frown and then back to Minty.

A few moments later the two men left the room. Minty watched them go and then returned to the Evanses. She glanced at her watch and then gave the couple a wan smile, accompanied by a small shrug. They exchanged a few words and she moved on. A few minutes later she was chatting with the warden, who was circulating with a tray picking up abandoned glasses and napkins.

Bronwyn linked her arm through her husband’s. “Well, I guess that’s all the excitement for now. Let’s go up to our room. I fancy a bit of a lie down before dinner. This wine has made me a little sleepy.”

“Not too sleepy, I hope,” said her husband, giving her a big smile and a little squeeze.

Minty watched the last of the guests depart. When the room had emptied, she sat in a comfy wing chair and reached for her handbag which she had set down on a side table before tackling the unpleasant task of speaking to Reverend Shipton. She took out the document she had wanted to discuss with the bishop and looked over the numbers again. She looked in his direction, then folded the paper and thoughtfully replaced it in her bag.

On second thought, maybe the bishop wasn’t the right person to discuss those numbers with. Maybe the rector of a certain parish would be far more interested in them. She tipped her head to one side. And maybe a quiet word with Pamela Blaine, the bishop’s wife, might be a good idea, too. She felt the glimmer of a daring idea beginning to form.

*

“Oh, look, there’s Penny and Gareth.” Walking down the long front corridor that led from the dining room and the Gladstone Room at one end, to the vast library chamber itself at the other, with the reception area about halfway between, Bronwyn and Thomas caught sight of Penny and Davies in the reception area and waved to them.

“Hello, Penny,” Bronwyn said as the two men shook hands and the four greeted one another warmly. “Just arriving are you? Did you have a good journey? You probably haven’t had much of a chance to see anything, but isn’t this place stunning?

“Very beautiful indeed,” agreed Penny.

“Well, we’ll leave you to get settled in. We were just going up to our room to get ready for dinner. There’s already been a bit of a set to,” Bronwyn said in a low voice as the four moved toward the green-carpeted staircase. “We’re just coming from the opening reception. The bishop was simply furious that one of the rectors, Reverend Shipton, brought his partner with him. A young man from Nigeria, I heard someone say.” Gareth Davies raised his eyebrows and managed to suppress a knowing smile.

Thomas Evans nodded at him but said nothing. “Oh dear me, yes, you can imagine how that went down,” Bronwyn continued. “The secretary, Miss Russell, Minty is her first name, had the unpleasant task of telling them that Mr. Odogwu, that’s the man from Nigeria, must not stay the night. I don’t think Shipton liked it one bit and how the poor fellow will get back to Abergele, if that’s where he lives, I have no idea. Shipton’s from Abergele, He, of course, has no choice but to stay. If he wants to keep his job, that is.” She looked to her husband. “Isn’t that right, Thomas?” He nodded again.

“Well, we would have asked if you’d like to join us for a drink but if you’re just coming from the reception you’re probably not really in the mood. I expect you had something to drink at the reception. But I hope we’ll see you at dinner,” said Penny.

“Yes, that would be lovely,” said Bronwyn. “It would be very nice if the four of us could sit together, but I’m afraid we can’t. It would look rather odd if we didn’t join the rest of the party.” She shrugged. “At least for this evening. You know how it is on the first night.”

“Of course. We’ll see you soon. Perhaps after dinner we can discuss the presentation for the morning. The Robinson Room at 10, is it?”

*

At 6:45
P.M.
Penny and Davies joined the queue just inside the dining room area. The menu for the evening meal, with three choices including a vegetarian option, was written on a white board and, after taking a few moments to decide what they wanted, guests approached the servery counter where friendly staff served meals cafeteria style. Guests then carried their trays through to the dining room, stopping to pick up cutlery and napkins before choosing where to sit.

Several square tables closest to the windows that overlooked the garden at the rear of the building had been pushed together to form one long, rectangular table that was to be occupied by members of the clerical party. The bishop, his wife, and Minty Russell sat together at one end of the table. A few moments later Bronwyn and Thomas entered the dining room and seeing empty spaces at the long table, walked slowly over to it, balancing their trays. Within a few minutes all the spaces at the table filled and everyone fell silent as the bishop rose to say a few words.

Penny and Davies, who entered the dining room just as the bishop finished saying grace, chose a round table off to the side of the room where they were fairly private but could still see everything.

“I wonder if Mr. Odogwu has gone home,” Penny remarked as Gareth filled her water glass.

“Possibly,” he said. “Or heaven forbid, they’ve disobeyed the bishop’s orders and he’s having a lonely ham sandwich on his own in his room.” He was seated facing the party so just had to shift slightly in his chair to see them. “That must be Shipton, the one sitting by himself at the end of the table. It’s probably killing him to sit at the same table as the bishop. He can’t seem to bring himself to have anything to do with any of them.”

Penny turned her head sideways and leaned slightly forward. Shipton’s thin, serious face seemed flushed with barely hidden anger or frustration as he took a vague swipe at wild wisps of grey hair carelessly arranged in a half-hearted, reluctant comb-over. His dark rimmed glasses were held in place by a black cord looped over the back of his neck. He took a sip of water and turned to Thomas Evans on his left and tipped his head as if listening. He then nodded vaguely and looked off into the distance. His eyes came to rest on Penny and she turned awkwardly back to look at Gareth. Their eyes met and each gave a little nod. They were thinking the same thing about Mr. Odogwu’s motives for being in a relationship with Shipton—but neither wanted to say it out loud. Anyway, there was no need to. So Penny moved their thinking on.

“We’ve got our presentations in the morning and perhaps after lunch we could spend some time in the library and then go for a walk in the afternoon. Do a little exploring.”

Davies slid his hand across the table and rested it lightly on top of Penny’s.

“Yes, I’d like that. As for this evening, Bethan will be sending me some updated statistics that I’ll need for my paper. But we could have coffee in the lounge with the others after dinner. Or maybe check out the Library.”

“I think I’d rather wait and see it in daylight. I’ve heard it’s quite magnificent and I really want to see it at its best.”

Davies nodded and then checked his watch. “The presentation shouldn’t take me too long to finish.” He smiled at her. “I’m so glad we decided to come here. Are you? It’s just the break we needed. Give us both the chance to relax a bit and spend some time together. It’s a bit early to tell, I know, but are you enjoying yourself?”

Penny smiled back at him. She hoped it was the break they needed but she wondered if coming here had been the right thing to do. Something was starting to whisper to her that it was all going to end in tears for her, just as it was bound to for Reverend Shipton. It certainly wasn’t his good looks and charm that the young, handsome black man found so appealing. It was more likely the burgundy European Union passport that the rector kept in his office drawer, and the bountiful benefits that flowed from it.

The walls of the dining room were decorated with framed covers from vintage Penguin paperback books with their distinctive colors: green and white for crime fiction or orange and white for general fiction. As she gazed at the covers a green and white one caught her attention and smiling, she pointed it out to Davies.