Good morning, Chief Inspector,” said Penny as Davies cautiously pushed open the door. “Do come in. This is Mrs. Lloyd, one of my regular clients. Mrs. Lloyd, this is Detective Chief Inspector Davies. He’s leading the Meg Wynne Thompson investigation.”
Mrs. Lloyd gave the police officer a careful once-over and then nodded pleasantly. “Ah, Inspector,” she said. “Very clever of you to find me here, especially as this isn’t my regular day, is it Penny dear? No, I was wondering why you hadn’t been to see me before this, but never mind that, you’re here now. What would you like to know?”
Mrs. Lloyd sat back expectantly while Davies collected himself and Penny tried to hide her amusement. Slowly he approached the table where she was sitting.
“What exactly do you have to tell me?” he asked.
“Well, I would have thought you’d be around to take a statement,” Mrs. Lloyd said. “You and that lady officer of yours. I know you’ve been talking to people, and I was there and saw everything, and yet you haven’t spoken to me yet.”
“You were?” Davies asked incredulously. “What did you see, exactly?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Lloyd impatiently. “I was in the church when they made the announcement that the bride was missing. I was almost in the front pew so not much got past me.”
“It never does,” said Penny, looking intently at Mrs. Lloyd’s nails.
“Well, that’s very true,” agreed Mrs. Lloyd with a modest degree of smug satisfaction. “I was the postmistress here for many years, and as you probably know, Inspector, in the post office we’re trained to be observant. In an important position like that, you hear and see just about everything. Of course, discretion comes into it, too, but you learn to tell the difference between what’s important and what’s not.”
“Rather like police work, perhaps?” suggested Penny, smothering a smile.
“Exactly!” exclaimed Mrs. Lloyd.
“Now, then, Inspector, shall I start at the beginning and tell you everything that happened that morning? Why don’t you pull one of those chairs over here and sit beside me?”
Fifteen minutes later, Mrs. Lloyd was wrapping up her version of events as Penny was applying the top coat to her nails.
“And so, that was just about it, Inspector. The rector made the announcement and we all made our way across to the hotel for some refreshments. It was all such a pity. And such a waste, too. The church had never looked more beautiful. It seemed like there were stands of lovely flowers everywhere. Pink, they were, and very blowsy and fragrant. Peonies, I think they were but where anyone would get peonies now, I don’t know. They’ve been over for weeks.” Penny started and dropped her brush, leaving a little puddle of clear fluid on the work surface which she quickly wiped away with a cotton ball.
Mrs. Lloyd took no notice, but Davies’s shoulders hunched forward slightly.
“Sorry,” said Penny, recovering. “I think that you’re done now, Mrs. Lloyd. Just sit there for a moment while they dry.”
But Mrs. Lloyd was now deep into her recollections of the wedding that wasn’t.
“I wonder in a situation like that what happened to the flowers? They weren’t in the church on Sunday, were they? Were they donated to a local hospital or hospice do you think?”
She looked from one to the other.
“Or maybe to one of the old folks homes. Yes, that’s probably where they went. Someplace where they could do a bit of good.”
She blew on her nails.
“And, my goodness, what about all that lovely food? Went home with the hotel staff, I shouldn’t wonder. Well, as I said, what a shameful waste it all was. Not that it was the poor girl’s fault, of course, as things turned out, but I did ask myself at the time if it wasn’t simply a matter of cold feet. Although with a catch like Emyr, that would be hard to fathom, wouldn’t it?” She looked brightly at the two of them, and then, as she always did, held out her hands at arm’s length for inspection.
“Very nice, Penny, as usual. What colour did you say that is?”
“Melon of Troy.”
“Melon of Troy!” chuckled Mrs. Lloyd. “I never! Well, as you say, Penny, we’re done, so I’ll be on my way. Lovely to meet you, Inspector. If you need to speak to me again, I’m sure you know where to find me.”
Penny gathered up Mrs. Lloyd’s bags, handed them to her, and thanked her as she made her way to the door, where Davies was waiting to open it.
“Thank you, Inspector. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my new nails, would I! Melon of Troy!”
As the door swung slowly shut, Penny joined him and turned the sign to CLOSED. Turning around she faced Davies and smiled up at him.
“Victoria’s just gone to get us some things for lunch but I’m sure there’ll be enough for you, if you want to join us. I was going to go upstairs to make some tea,” she said.
Davies hesitated, glanced down at her, and then peered through the glass window in the door.
“Actually, I had dropped in on the off chance that you might be free for lunch,” he said. “I’d like to go over your statement again, just in case you’ve remembered anything else. Sometimes it helps to talk about things in a neutral environment. I think it’s possible that you know more than you think you know. So far, you’re our most important witness. And I did want to ask you about something, and that’s …” He stopped as Penny leaned slightly closer to him and craned her neck to watch as Victoria turned the corner, a shopping bag in each hand.
“Excuse me,” she said, reaching past Davies to open the door. “I’ve just got to let Victoria in. But do, please, join us for lunch. It’s no bother, and we’d like you to.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” he said, as a breathless Victoria pushed her way past them.
“Oh, God, my arms are breaking,” she moaned. “There were a few items on sale so I got in some extras so we can have them on hand.” Setting the bags down, she smiled at Davies.
“Hello, there, what brings you here? Joining us for lunch, are you?”
Davies looked at the two women, and smiled.
“I guess I am. Thank you.”
Upstairs in the flat, crowded around the small table with cups of tea, sandwiches, salad, cheese, and biscuits, Davies looked at Penny.
“Mrs. Lloyd said something that seemed to startle you. Why was that?” he asked.
“Mm,” said Penny, as she put her egg-and-cress sandwich on her plate. “It was the strangest thing. Just this morning Victoria and I were going back over the events of the Saturday morning when that woman, the bridal impostor whoever she was, came for a manicure and I remembered that she had said something about having peonies at her wedding, so when Mrs. Lloyd mentioned that there had been peonies at the wedding, it made me wonder.”
Victoria looked at her admiringly.
“Penny, you’re brilliant! Don’t you see? It means that whoever killed Meg Wynne must have known what flowers she had chosen. It was an inside job!”
She looked triumphantly from one to the other.
Penny smiled back at her, and then frowned slightly.
“I’d be curious to know, though, more about Meg Wynne’s background.” She glanced at Davies. “You know what hotbeds for gossip villages are. There are rumours going around that she wasn’t on the best terms with her father, that he drank too much, and had a violent temper.”
“Oh, yes,” said Davies, nodding. “We’re looking into him. He’s in the frame.”
And then, silently signalling that the subject of the murder was closed, he reached for another sandwich.
“I’ll just stay here and tidy up,” said Victoria, as Penny and the policeman stood up from the table. “I want another cup of tea, anyway. You two carry on.”
Davies and Penny made their way downstairs and into the salon.
“By the way,” said Penny as they stood in front of the door, “what was it you wanted to ask me?”
“Sorry?”
“When you first got here, you said there was something you wanted to ask me. I wondered what it was.”
“Do you know, it’s gone right out of my head. Can’t have been that important, I guess. If I remember what it is, I’ll ring you.”
Penny fiddled with her watch strap.
“I was just thinking,” she said, “that perhaps Victoria and I could ask around and see what we can find out—”
Davies interrupted her. “No, don’t go there,” he said sternly. “I know you feel you’re involved in this case, and you’ve been very helpful. But the last thing we need now is a couple of amateur detectives—you and your chum upstairs. We’re the police, we’ve got resources, and we know what we’re doing.”
As Penny raised her eyebrows, he smiled.
“Well, most of the time, anyway. But, see, don’t try to work this one. Leave it to us, and if you do think of anything else, just let me know, and we’ll look into it.”
He reached into his inside pocket.
“Here’s my card,” he said, handing it to her.
“I’ve still got the other one you gave me,” said Penny stiffly. “I don’t need that one, thank you very much.”
Davies reached for the door and started to leave. He turned back to her and gently touched her shoulder.
“Remember what I said. We don’t know who it was yet, but we do know he’s dangerous. And thanks for the lunch. My turn next time.”
When he was gone, Penny did a little dusting, put some instruments in the sterilizer, and then went to rinse her soaking basins. When she stepped away from the sink, Victoria was standing there watching her.
“What did he say?” she asked.
“He warned us off. Said we’re not to go poking around. Too dangerous. Probably thinks we’re just a couple of silly women. Mr. ‘We Know What We’re Doing’ policeman,” she said indignantly.
Victoria thought this over for a moment.
“Do you like him?” she asked.
“Do I like him? Where did that come from?” exclaimed Penny. “Like him? I guess. Why do you ask?”
“Because he fancies you.”
Penny laughed. “No, he doesn’t! He just wants to know what I know.”
“Yes, he does,” said Victoria. “I’ve seen the way he softens when he looks at you. And he looks at you more than he has to. He likes watching you. I don’t think he’s quite realized it yet, though.”
“Hmm,” said Penny. “I don’t know what to say to that. It’s been so long since anybody’s fancied me, that I don’t really know if the one or two hormones I’ve got left would be up to that kind of excitement.”
They both laughed, and then she looked thoughtfully at Victoria.
“But I’ve been thinking some more about this case, and I’ve had an idea. We can’t go to wherever it is that Meg Wynne’s parents are, and we can’t go to London where the bridesmaids are, but we can go to Ty Brith. We need to get into the Hall so we can snoop around and see what we can find out.”
“And just how are you going to do that?” asked Victoria.
“Oh, no,” said Penny. “Not me. I’ve got no reason to go to the Hall. But you do. And as reasons go, it’s heavenly.”
Victoria groaned. “Well, just don’t keep harping on about it.”
They looked at each other and laughed, leaning into each other, the way friends do.