A Small Hill to Die On: A Penny Brannigan Mystery (16 page)

“Of course you don’t. But it’s getting late and you’ve been through a lot. If you do want to go home, I’ll check if it’s okay with him if I stay with you.” She gave Penny a knowing smile. “I’m sure it will be fine with him, if that’s what you want. They can spare me and he’ll want what’s best for you.”

Penny reached inside her coat and pulled out a laptop. “Here, take this,” she said, handing it to Bethan. “I found it in the small room where they held me. I figured you’d want it. It seems it was important enough to be the only thing they kept under lock and key. And that room, you’ll want to get the forensics team to give it a good going-over. I’ve got an awful feeling something really bad happened in there.”

As they reached the car, an explosion from behind made them turn around. They watched in horror as a shower of sparks flew up and the loud crackling of licking flames signaled that the stable was now fully engulfed.

Then, above the roar of the fire they heard a police officer shouting. Penny and Bethan looked at each other.

“What did he say?” Bethan asked. “I didn’t catch what he said.” Penny grabbed the young police officer’s arm. “It sounded like, ‘Get back. You can’t go in there.’”

*   *   *

The commotion at the stables and the bright orange light wavering over the treetops had awakened Pawl and Dilys Hughes. Tying the sash of her dressing gown around her waist as she entered Pawl’s bedroom, Dilys tried to soothe him. “Now, Pawl, it’ll just be something happening up at the Hall, but it’s nothing to do with us. We’re all right here. You go back to sleep now.”

Pawl moaned and lay back against his pillow as Dilys closed the door quietly and returned to her room. An eerie, uneven light began to seep through the window, casting flickering shadows on the wall, and lapping at his bed like an orange-red sea. Frightened, he climbed out of bed and shuffled over to the window. A warm, iridescent glow bathed the contours of his face as he looked toward the source of the light. Clearly visible through the black, skeletal tree branches, angry flames shot through the roof of the stable, lighting up the night sky and filling the air with dense, black smoke that was obliterating what had been a canopy of bright stars on a clear, frosty night. He let out an anguished cry that sounded as if it came from a terrified, wounded animal. Grasping the furniture to steady himself, he made for the door.

*   *   *

“Who just went in there?” demanded Davies. “Everyone had been ordered to keep back. What the hell’s going on here?” He turned to the fire brigade’s senior divisional officer, who was managing the firefighting efforts.

“I don’t know who he is or how he got past us.” The emergency radio crackled as he contacted the firefighters in the building. He listened for a moment and then turned to Davies. “He ran into the old kennel part shouting something. They’re trying to get him out, but he’s resisting.”

They turned to a distraught woman shivering in a dressing gown.

“That’s my brother, Pawl,” she cried. “I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t. He just ran in there. Oh, dear God.” She bent over, breathing hard.

“The firefighters are trying to get him out,” Davies told her. “Whatever would have possessed him to run into a building that’s on fire?”

“He’s got dementia and he’s confused. He’s living in the past. He used to be in love with the kennel maid here and he probably thinks she’s in there and the poor old fool rushed in to try to save her.” She covered her face with her hands and started to cry. “Look,” said Davies, “the firefighters are doing everything they can. I expect they’ll be bringing him out in a moment.” Davies motioned to a woman police officer. “Get her a blanket and take care of her,” he said in a low voice.

The intense heat from the fire drove the little group back. Their faces reflected the bright light of the fire as a group of firefighters emerged from the building, their heavy equipment forcing them to walk slowly and awkwardly. They carried a large bundle, which they set down on the ground. One of them waved to the paramedics, who rushed over. Dilys started forward, but Davies put a restraining hand on her arm and shook his head.

“Let them do their work,” he said, as a paramedic bent over the still figure.

And then the paramedic turned and gestured to someone, who brought a blanket to cover Pawl’s body.

Thirty-two

“How are you feeling?” Victoria asked the next morning.

“Not too bad, I guess, all things considered,” said Penny. “It could have been much, much worse, I know that.” She took a sip of coffee and set her cup down. “I didn’t sleep very well, though. I would just be drifting off, finally, and then I’d be right back there. It was so vivid. My heart would be pounding and I’d feel the same emotions I felt at the time, in a very real way.” Before Victoria could say anything, Gwennie, who had arrived at the cottage unannounced and started cooking breakfast, approached the table, offering a boiled egg and toast. Penny shook her head, but Gwennie set the plate down in front of her anyway.

“Come on now, you’ve got to keep your strength up, Miss Penny.”

Penny smiled up at her. “Why do people always say that, I wonder.”

Victoria waited until Gwennie returned to the kitchen. “Because there’s some truth in it? And it makes other people feel better. Sorting out a cup of tea or whatever gives them something to do. Lets them feel useful.”

Penny gazed at the lightly speckled brown egg Gwennie had placed in front of her, and Victoria gestured at it. “Go on. Gwennie’s watching and it will make her feel better if you eat a bit of it. She came over here specially because she wanted to try to make you feel better. This is her way of showing you that she cares about you.”

“I didn’t think of it like that,” said Penny, “but you’re right.” She smiled at Gwennie and began tapping the top of the egg with the back of a spoon. “Just eat what you can,” said Victoria, “and then we’ll give the rest to Trixxi.” At the mention of her name, Trixxi looked up hopefully from her basket beside the Rayburn and thumped her tail.

Penny nibbled at the edge of a piece of toast, which Gwennie had cut into soldiers, strips perfect for dunking into the runny egg yolk. Victoria took a sip of coffee. The silence stretched on until Victoria finally said, “Well, you know we’re dying to hear what happened. Do you feel up to telling us?”

“Us?”

“Well, Gwennie and me.” Victoria tilted her head toward the kitchen. Gwennie set her cloth down, put her hand in her apron pocket, and took a few steps toward the table.

“The lady police officer, Bethan, she called me last night at my sister’s, asking if there was a secret room up at the Hall. I told her where it was and she said they’d send the police there to find you. I told them how to unlock the door.” Gwennie nodded. “So I was glad they found you and were able to get you out.”

“They didn’t get me out, though, Gwennie. I figured it out for myself.”

A wide smile spread across Gwennie’s face.

“Did you now, Miss Penny! Good for you.”

Victoria looked confused and she glanced from one to the other. “What? Tell me what happened.”

“They locked me in this little room, which I found out later was just off the kitchen. When the door locked, the mechanism sounded mechanical or automatic, not something that used a key. I wasn’t sure if the room had been in use when the Gruffydd family lived there or if the Vietnamese people had had it installed, but I thought it probable that it was the result of that major renovation done in, oh, when was it, Gwennie? Mrs. Lloyd told me that Emyr’s mother and father had the place all done up in the 1960s, I think.”

“That’s right, but they had the kitchen done again about twenty years later. Nothing goes out of style faster than a kitchen.”

“Right, so anyway, I sat there for a while and thought about it, and I figured that if the room had been installed when Emyr was a boy, his mother would have put in a way for him to get out if he was ever locked in. So I realized that the button to unlock the door would be low, child height, so he could reach it.”

“Good for you,” Gwennie said again. “Good thinking I call that.”

“So I looked around the room, low, for something unusual, and behind the shelves at one end, I found what looked like a push-button light switch. I thought it might be a panic button. If it was pressed, a bell would ring somewhere in the house to set off an alarm that someone was locked in that room. But anyway, I pushed the button, the lock clicked, the door slid open, and believe me, I didn’t waste any time getting the hell out of there. I realized pretty quickly I was near the kitchen so I got out by the back door and was heading around behind the stables, and then I saw the fire and everything else going on. I thought the safest thing to do would be to head toward the firefighters, but the police were there, too, so at that point I knew I was safe.” She looked from one to the other. “Something very bad happened in that room, I’m sure of it. It had all been freshly cleaned, and the cleaning solution must have been very powerful. The smell was overwhelming.”

“Did you tell Gareth?” asked Victoria.

“Yes, I told him last night. And you’ll never believe what I found there. An earring and I’m pretty sure it belonged to Ashlee. It was wedged down into the crack between the floorboards—not just dropped but placed. I think she was held in that room and had the presence of mind to leave an earring behind so that if the police found it later, they’d know she had been there.” Penny was on the brink of telling them she thought Ashlee had been murdered in that room, and then stopped. She could tell Victoria later, but Gwennie might find it too distressing. So instead, she asked Gwennie a question.

“Gwennie, it seems an odd place to have a secure room. What was it used for?”

“Oh, the family used it for anything they wanted to be secure. Confidential papers, Mrs. Gruffydd’s jewels, that sort of thing. It’s really just a large walk-in closet. It was a bit of leftover space from the renovation when the butler’s pantry was put in. I think it was meant to be a wine cellar, but they never installed whatever it is you need to control the temperature and humidity. Mr. Gruffydd, Mr. Rhys, that is, Emyr’s father, he enjoyed a glass of wine, but Mrs. Gruffydd wasn’t much of a drinker. She had a sherry every now and then, but that was about it. Or sometimes, on a summer afternoon, a gin and tonic in her lovely garden.” Gwennie’s eyes misted over. “Oh, how I miss her. How I miss those days. Everything seemed so much more beautiful then. We didn’t know how good we had it.”

The moment passed and with a small sigh she returned to the kitchen.

“Do you think you’ll be all right if I go into work this morning?” asked Victoria. “I was thinking you might want to go back to bed.”

“I might,” said Penny. “But this afternoon I want to drop in on Dilys. I want to make sure she’s all right or see if she needs help with anything.” She got up from the table and joined Gwennie in the kitchen. “Gwennie, I’m going to check up on Dilys this afternoon and I wondered if you’d mind putting up some sandwiches or something for her. I expect she’ll have a lot to do, sorting out the death of her brother.”

Gwennie nodded. “Yes, I brought a few things with me, knowing you’re not very good at getting in your groceries, although you’re better than you used to be, I’ll give you that. Very sad it was, what happened to Pawl.”

“Yes, it was. Thanks, Gwennie.”

Victoria checked her watch. “Look, here’s an idea. Why doesn’t Gwennie stay here with you for a bit, and I’ll go back to the Spa for the morning and make sure everything’s all right.” She peered out the small window that overlooked the front garden. “It looks like rain. I’ll pick you up just after lunch and drive you to see Dilys. We’ll go together. After everything that happened yesterday, I don’t think you should be on your own, do you?”

Penny shook her head. “No, probably not.” She gave her friend a grateful smile.

“Have you spoken to Gareth this morning?”

“Mmm. He rang about an hour ago. Said they’d held everyone in jail overnight and would start interviewing them today.” She took another bite of toast. “You know, I’m hungrier than I thought I was. I had breakfast yesterday and that was pretty much all I ate. When I got home last night, I was just too tired to think about food. Just wanted to have a shower and crawl into bed.” She brushed the hair from her forehead. “Thanks for stopping over last night. I was so glad to have you here.”

“Not the time to be alone,” Victoria agreed. “Your spare room’s really comfortable. I like the way you’ve put out the little toiletries and even a new toothbrush. Most people’s spare rooms are just a place to keep rubbish they really should get rid of. Stuff that’s not really good enough to be in the rest of the house.”

She stood up. “Well, I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll call Gareth and let him know you’re not on your own, and then I’ll be back about one thirty and we’ll go find Dilys and see how she’s doing.”

Penny smiled her thanks and picked up her spoon. “Before you go, would you mind asking Gwennie if she’d do me another egg?”

Thirty-three

A pair of white-suited forensics experts entered the small strong room in Ty Brith Hall, knowing exactly what they were looking for, and in a spray bottle they had what they needed to find it. Luminol. The bottle made a light swooshing sound as they sprayed the carpet and then pulled it back and sprayed the floorboards underneath it. They sprayed the walls. They turned out the light and they waited. A moment later, the carpet, floor, and walls began glowing with an eerie, iridescent blue-green light.

“That stuff gets me every time,” one criminalist said to the other, who began photographing and videotaping their findings, including boot prints and spatter patterns. The darling of forensics television shows, luminol reacts with iron in hemoglobin to produce a telltale glow whenever it comes in contact with blood.

The glowing pattern of bloodstains on the walls revealed that a particularly vicious beating had taken place here as an instrument of some kind was raised again and again, casting the victim’s blood onto the walls. The carpet had been soaked, allowing the blood to seep through and into the cracks in the floorboards. And in what would no doubt prove invaluable to the investigation, the patterns of two distinct boot treads glowed on the carpet.