Slated for Death (16 page)

Penny left the room and a few minutes later a staff person entered the room, and asked Jimmy to move. He refused to budge, shooing her away with his hand.

“I'll move when the police get here,” he said, “and not until.”

When DCI Davies, followed by Sgt. Bethan Morgan, entered the room, he moved.

 

Twenty-seven

Florence Semble put the phone down and joined Mrs. Lloyd in the sitting room. “That was Penny,” she said. “She's going to drop by in a few minutes to return your clipping.” She sat down. “Now I want to talk to you about the St. David's Day gala.”

“Oh, a gala now, is it? Last week it was just a concert.”

“Well, gala. Concert and reception. We haven't got our tickets yet. Are you going?”

“I don't know that I'd want to go down to a mine to listen to some music. I'd feel a little anxious being in that hollowed-out space with all the weight of a mountain above me.”

“That doesn't sound like you, Evelyn. Why, you're the most adventurous person I know.”

“I am?”

“Course you are,” said Florence. “Born to be wild!”

Mrs. Lloyd laughed. “Well, I don't know about that.” She thought for a moment. “Perhaps we could buy two tickets—just to show our support—and not go?”

“That's not a good idea, Evelyn. If everybody did that, they'd have a sold-out concert with nobody to perform for. And we'd be dogs in the manger … keeping two tickets we knew we weren't going to use out of the hands of two people who might have enjoyed the concert. But it is a nice thought and I know your intention was good.

“No,” Florence continued. “We'd be better off to buy the tickets and give them to people we know will go. Or, we should buy the tickets and go ourselves.”

“All right. I'm persuaded. Let's take two tickets and we'll go.”

“Good decision, Evelyn. Penny's dropping off our tickets in a few minutes.”

“You what? I've only just decided that we're going.”

“No, Evelyn, you've only just decided that you're going. I'd already made up my mind to go, and told Penny to bring two tickets just in case you wanted to come with me.”

“I wonder what kind of music there'll be,” said Mrs. Lloyd.

“Well, loads of Welsh music since it's St. David's Day,” said Florence. “And maybe a bit of pop music, too. The guest singer is Karis Edwards. Do you remember her from the 1980s? Sang with a pop group called The Characters.”

“I don't know anything about 1980s music,” said Mrs. Lloyd. “As far as I'm concerned, there's been no decent pop music since the Beach Boys. Remember them Florence? Oh, how I longed to be a California Girl!” She laughed. “But of course, the Beatles are probably top of the pops with you, what with your little friendship with that John Lennon.”

“We weren't friends, Evelyn, as you very well know. He was a student at the art college when I worked there, that's all. Although I've often thought it interesting that the art school's most famous student should be known around the world for his music, not his art. But never mind. We…”

She was interrupted by the doorbell.

“Right. That'll be Penny. I'll go.”

A few moments later Penny and Florence entered the sitting room. After greetings were exchanged, Penny set the newspaper cutting down on Mrs. Lloyd's worktable.

“That was interesting, Mrs. Lloyd, thank you,” she said. “How's your memoir project coming along?”

“Well, it's taking much longer than I thought it would,” Mrs. Lloyd replied. “So many documents and so on to sort through. I never realized how rich and full my life has been.” She laughed. “Well, not as full as yours. I never travelled much. Stayed here at home. When I was young we thought a three-day coach trip to Brighton was all the thing. Nowadays, it seems everyone's on a cheap flight to Spain to drink themselves under the table for a week.” She made a little scoffing noise.

“I've been wondering about something, Mrs. Lloyd. Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Doreen Roberts?”

“Harm Doreen Roberts? Why would you ask that? Why would someone want to harm her? Is there something fishy about her death? I thought she just passed away peacefully.”

“Well, something new has come to light, and the police aren't sure now if she committed suicide or someone…”

“Now it's suicide is it? I wouldn't have thought she'd be up for that, but really how can you know what someone is thinking? She may have been feeling low enough to do that, I wouldn't know. And as for someone harming her, I can't think of anyone now who might have wanted to, but back in her younger days, well, I'm sure two or three wives would have happily had a go.”

“Wives? Really?”

“Yes, really. No man was off-limits for our Doreen. In fact, the man she married, Aled Roberts, he was married when she started working at the mine and apparently it wasn't long before they were carrying on. Then his wife died and a few months later they got married. And a few months after that Glenda arrived. And it wasn't nine months after, I can tell you that.” She raised her eyebrows and nodded in a knowing way. “You can imagine what people thought of that back then. There was talk. How times have changed. These days, girls see having a baby at seventeen as the way to sign on for a lifetime of benefits.”

Penny ignored the last remark.

“Doreen worked at the mine?”

“Yes, she worked in the office. Not exactly sure what she did there, but she used to come into the post office almost every day with parcels and letters. I used to see her regularly. Except for the times I didn't.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she was a little ahead of her time, was Doreen. You see, back then, most single women worked and then quit when they got married. But a few kept working after they got married, but then quit when they had a baby. Doreen kept on working after Glenda was born. Her mother looked after Glenda. And she did the same thing after Rebeccah was born. And then a year or two after that, she had another baby, but sadly, that baby died.”

“Oh, that is sad.”

Florence was about to say something when Penny's phone rang. She knew from the ringtone that it was Victoria, so she excused herself, saying, “It might be business. Sorry, I'd better take this.” She listened for a moment and then said, “That's great news. I'm so happy to hear this. Right. See you later.”

Mrs. Lloyd beamed at her. “Always glad for good news, Penny.”

“Indeed, this is wonderful news. Taff, Ifan Williams's dog, was found on the riverbank this morning in terrible shape, and we weren't sure if he was going to make it. Turns out he's improving rapidly and will be going home later today. The vet thought he'd have to keep him overnight in the surgery, but now they think Taff will do better at home.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news,” said Florence. “We hadn't heard about Taff, but we're so glad it's all turned out well.”

“Well, the thing is, though, that understandably Ifan wants to stay home tonight and look after Taff, so Victoria's going to take choir practice. I thought I'd go along and sit in.” She looked from one to the other. “But first, apparently I have to get over to his place now to pick up the music Victoria will need. Did you know that I've taken over organizing the gala since Glenda died?”

“No, I didn't know that, Penny, although I'm glad to hear it,” said Mrs. Lloyd. “A nice opportunity for you to give back to this community that has taken you to its bosom all these years.”

“Well, yes, it is,” said Penny. “But there's not much time for me to give back and still a lot of do. I've got the whole shebang to organize.”

“I'd like to help you, Penny,” said Florence. “If you need me to, I'd be glad to organize the food and drink at the reception afterward. Or is it before? I can't remember. Does it say on the tickets?”

“It's after. The concert's down the mine, as you know, and then afterward there'll be a reception aboveground in the caf
é
part of the venue.”

“Well, I would like to help you out by volunteering to look after that reception,” said Florence. “You just have to tell me how many people and what's the budget and you can leave the rest to me.”

“That's brilliant!” said Penny. “And I know you'll do a great job.” She checked her watch. “Look, I've got to go now, but I'll catch you later, Florence, and we'll go over all the details and sort out the logistics. In the meantime, maybe you could give some thought to what you think we should serve. Wine, of course, and…”

“Leave it with me, Penny. I'll sort it. And you'll like it.”

“Wonderful! Thanks so much, Florence.”

“I'll see you out.”

Florence returned to the sitting room to find Mrs. Lloyd in a frosty mood.

“Well, when I said people should do more and give back to the community I didn't necessarily mean you, Florence,” she said. “After all, you've only been here five minutes.”

“And why shouldn't I help out?” asked Florence. “I'm good at catering and I want to do my bit.” Seeing Mrs. Lloyd's downcast face and suspecting she was put out because she felt left out, Florence went on, “Maybe you could do your bit, too, Evelyn. Penny's in a bit of a bad place here, and she'd appreciate every bit of help she can get. Why don't you offer to take tickets at the door?” Mrs. Lloyd brightened. “And that way, you'd get to arrive early and you'd see everybody arrive.” Mrs. Lloyd brightened even more.

 

Twenty-eight

“Come in, Penny,” said Ifan Williams, whose broad smile told her all she needed to know. “Here, let me take your jacket.” Penny handed her jacket to him and then walked into the kitchen. Taff was asleep in a cozy dog bed, a small blanket draped over him, his nose just touching his pink-bandaged front leg. As Penny crouched beside his bed and gently stroked his head, the dog's cognac-coloured eyes opened and the blanket moved over his thumping tail.

“He's saying thank-you,” said Ifan. “As do I.” He switched on the kettle. “I hope you can stay for a cup of tea.”

“Yes, I certainly can,” said Penny. “I can't tell you how glad I am that Taff's going to be okay.”

“The vet said what saved him was that he was found before he went into shock and the break wasn't as bad as it might have been. Never again will I complain about the cost of vet fees,” he said. “You moan about the cost of a checkup or annual jabs and then you stand by, useless, and watch as that same vet has the equipment, never mind the education, skill, and experience to save your dog's life…” He dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve, gave Penny a sheepish smile, looked away, and then continued. “Sorry. He means everything to me, does Taff.” He bent down and stroked the dog's ears. “All right, old son?” He straightened up and turned his back to Penny while he fussed with the tea things. A few minutes later he set two mugs down on the table along with a small plate of chocolate digestives.

There was something about his home, his life, and Ifan himself that put Penny in mind of Father McKenzie in the Beatles' song “Eleanor Rigby.”

“Milk?”

Penny nodded.

He added a splash, then passed her the mug. He pushed a rose-patterned bowl toward her and she helped herself to a teaspoon of sugar.

“Of course I'll never forgive myself for letting him off his lead like that,” said Ifan as he stirred his tea. “I don't know what I was thinking. Or maybe the point is I wasn't thinking. I can't tell you how glad I am that Bronwyn and you came along when you did.”

“And then, of course, Taff had the good sense to climb out where we could find him,” said Penny, “although from what Bronwyn told me, it was really her Robbie who found him. We just sorted out the logistics to get him to the vet in time. But the great thing is he's doing so much better and all that matters now is that he's home with you, where he belongs.”

Ifan smiled. “Yes. Home with me. I like the way that sounds.”

They sipped their tea in silence and then Penny remarked, “Well, we understand completely that you need to be at home tonight. After we've finished our tea, perhaps you could hunt out that music Victoria will need this evening. Mustn't stay too long.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” said Ifan. “It's just here, in the dresser.” He pulled a bundle of papers held together with an elastic band from the top of a teetering pile of documents, file folders, and envelopes sitting on top of an attractive Welsh dresser that took up most of one wall in the kitchen.

“That's a beautiful dresser,” Penny remarked.

“It's been in my family for generations. I've known it all my life, so I never really take any notice of it. The place is full of antiques. My parents lived in this house and my grandparents before them. It's all pretty much the way it was when they lived here.”

He handed the papers to Penny. “Did Glenda drop this off on the morning she died?” Penny asked. “She came by the Spa and left an envelope for Victoria.”

“No, she gave it to me when we met at the mine for the site visit,” he replied. He thought for a moment and then, as if making up his mind, continued. “Look, I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead and all that, but I have to say I'm really glad you've taken over the management of this concert. She was an absolute cow to work with. At least she was to me, anyway. Always giving me black looks and blaming me for things I had no control over, like she did when we were putting on the Jublilee concert. I vowed then I'd never work with her again, and yet, there we were, with another concert underway.

“Working with her caused me a lot of stress. I just wanted to get on with the music and not have to listen to her, going on and on about things that are nothing to do with me and getting blamed for everything that went wrong. I'm glad I don't have to deal with her anymore.”