A Small Hill to Die On: A Penny Brannigan Mystery (8 page)

“Your hands. Can I ask you what you use…”

But with a gentle pressure Penny found herself outside and the door closed firmly behind her.

Fifteen

She arrived at the Spa to be greeted by a smiling Rhian. “I’ve just been copied on an e-mail Victoria sent you,” she said. “Change of plan. She’s coming home early. She’s due to arrive at Manchester tomorrow and should be here by teatime.” She grinned at Penny. “I expect you’ll be glad to see her.”

“Oh, won’t we all. Things can get back to what passes for normal around here.” Penny paused. “Have you got the key to her flat? We should get in a few basics for her—milk and a packet of biscuits—so she can at least have a nice cup of tea when she arrives home.”

“I’ll sort that out on my lunch hour tomorrow,” said Rhian. “And some fresh bread and cheese and thin-sliced ham. And tomatoes. And yogurt, too. That Greek kind she likes.”

“Good idea,” said Penny. “I’ll leave you to take care of all that, then. I think I’ll just see how everyone else is getting on, and then I’ll be in my office if you need me. I’ve got some spreadsheets that need updating and they take ages to do. You know what Victoria’s like. She’ll want to see them first thing.”

She glanced in the manicure room, where Eirlys was busy with a customer. The doors to the treatment rooms were closed, indicating the masseur and beautician were with clients, so she didn’t disturb them. She peered in the hair salon, where Alberto, their recently hired hairdresser, was trimming a woman’s hair. Penny watched as he held the hair between two fingers and, using his fingers as a guide, carefully snipped the ends. Their eyes met in the mirror above the customer’s head and they exchanged smiles.

“All right?” Penny asked.

Alberto nodded.

Penny then locked eyes in the mirror with the dark brown ones of Alberto’s client.

“Hello, Mai,” she said, entering the room and placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I’m so terribly sorry about your daughter.”

“Thank you. You must think this very strange, me being here, but I needed a trim and just didn’t have the energy or imagination to go anywhere else. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not. Not at all.” Your money is as good as the next person’s, thought Penny.

“I’ve been wanting to speak with you. To ask you some questions. Not about business. When we finish here, would it be all right if I spoke to you? In private, if you don’t mind?”

“Yes, of course. Just let Rhian, our receptionist, know when you’re ready. I’ll be in my office and she’ll show you in. I’ll see you there.” She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Alberto. “About twenty minutes,” he said as he ran his fingers through his client’s hair to get a sense of whether the ends were equal.

“That’s good enough,” Mai told him. “I don’t want it any shorter.”

Alberto reached for his blow-dryer.

*   *   *

Penny looked up to see Mai standing in the doorway of her office. “We have a quiet room down the hall,” said Penny. “Let’s go there.” They slipped into the room and sat down in the chocolate-brown chairs, facing each other. Penny leaned forward, clasping her hands between her knees, and waited.

“Well, first, I need a bit of practical help,” Mai began. “I need domestic help up at the Hall. I can’t manage that great big place on my own. Do you know anyone who could do a bit of cleaning and that sort of thing? The woman who used to be there decided not to stay on.”

That would be Gwennie, who now works for me, thought Penny, and no, she won’t be going to work for you.

“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t know anyone. Have you tried advertising locally? Or even in
The Lady
? That’s the place to get domestic help, I believe.”

Mai shook her head. “I thought you might know someone who could use a few hours’ work for a good wage. With both my children gone, you’d think I’d have more time, but I can’t seem to…”

Mai struggled to compose herself.

“I am not doing well,” she said. “It’s a terrible thing to lose a child. I had to identify the body. All the way there I kept hoping it wouldn’t be her. And then to finally see her, lying there. Seeing what I knew to be true but not wanting it to be true. Thinking this is my daughter, dead. But how can it be?”

She lifted her eyes to Penny and then looked away quickly.

“I can’t sleep. I can’t focus on my work. I don’t care about the new shop. My son spends most of his time now in Birmingham, although he comes and goes. Sometimes he’s here and sometime’s he’s not. I never know where he is or when he’ll turn up. I’ve lost control of him. I’m very afraid of the crowd he’s with in Birmingham, but I can’t get through to him. My life is in ruins.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You must think it very strange that I would come here and tell you all this, but as you see, I’m desperate.”

“Did you want me to help find out who killed Ashlee?”

Mai looked surprised. “No, why would I want you to do that? The police will do that.”

Penny raised her hands in a fluttering gesture. “Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve been involved in solving a murder before, so I thought when you said you were desperate that you…”

Shaking her head, Mai said, “No, sorry. I don’t know anything about that. It’s just that the police told me it was you who found the body. I thought it might help me if you would tell me how you came to find her.” Her face looked thinner and older, as if crumpling from within. Her dark eyes seemed shot through with pain. “Tell me everything you saw. Everything.”

Penny nodded and described, as simply and tactfully as she could, how she and Alwynne had been sketching and Trixxi had led her to the body. “I knew right away who it was, I’m afraid, or at least I had a very strong sense that it was Ashlee because of the snakeskin manicure.”

“So it was the manicure?”

“Yes, you see her right hand was exposed and I could see the fingernails. It was the snakeskin manicure I’d done earlier that week. So I told the police I was pretty sure I knew who it was. And I’m very sorry that it did turn out to be your daughter.”

“Do you have children?”

“No, I don’t,” said Penny, “so I can only imagine what you must be going through.”

“Well, multiply that by a hundred. By a thousand.” She ran her fingers softly down her newly styled hair. “She was pregnant, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know.”

“I don’t understand that, either. She didn’t have a boyfriend.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m only telling you that because I wondered if maybe when she came to you for the manicure she might have said something to you about a boyfriend. I know from my own experience that clients will sometimes confide the most personal and intimate things when they’re getting their nails done.”

Penny shook her head. “No, she didn’t say anything to me about a boyfriend. In fact, I even mentioned boys to her—something along the lines that she might meet a nice lad here in Llanelen—and she said she wasn’t interested in boys.”

“Then I don’t understand why someone would want to kill her. It’s beyond me why someone would have it in for her. What could she possibly have done? She was only nineteen. I told the police this. She had no enemies. In fact, as far as I knew, she barely had any friends.”

She must have had at least one, thought Penny. A gentleman friend.

Sixteen

Victoria had left detailed instructions on how to close up and cash out at the end of the day, and while she’d been away, Rhian had taken care of that. But because Rhian had left early to keep a dentist’s appointment, Penny was left to total up the day’s takings and cash out. Most of the transactions were either credit card or debit. Entering codes on the device that processed credit card and debit transactions, she printed out a list of all the entries for the day. Then she took all the money out of the cash drawer, carefully counted back in fifty pounds for the next day’s float, and added up the rest of the cash. There were only a couple of hundred pounds because most customers paid by debit or credit card, although Mai, she noted, had paid cash. She put the money, along with a deposit slip, in a grey canvas bag, filed the receipts, and switching on the alarm near the entrance to Victoria’s flat, she let herself out the side door.

Even though she wasn’t carrying a lot of money, she still felt nervous and would be glad when she had dropped the bag safely into the bank’s night deposit slot. As she crossed the cobblestone square to the bank, a small figure emerged from Handz and Tanz. It seemed that he, too, was on his to way to deposit the day’s takings. He made his way across the square, a large grey canvas bag tucked under his arm. It was about four times the size of the one Penny was carrying. Perhaps they don’t take cards, Penny thought, or business must be booming. But she knew it wasn’t. Except for a few girls lined up at a bus stop sporting the distinctive orange glow of a fake tan, she didn’t know anyone who was patronizing the new place. And hadn’t Eirlys said the place was empty? She watched from the shadows as the figure unlocked the night deposit collection box at the side of the bank, dropped in his bundle, and disappeared into the night. A few moments later she did the same and then set off through the quiet streets for the short walk to her cottage.

As she turned down a side street, a couple taping something to a lamppost caught her eye, and after hesitating for a moment, she crossed the street to see what they were doing. The young woman had clearly been crying. She smoothed a piece of paper around the post and held it while her companion taped it in place.

“It’s our dog,” the woman explained. “She’s gone missing. Have you seen her?”

Penny looked at the poster, which featured a photo of a small black-and-white dog. “Her name’s Katniss and we’re desperate to get her back.” The woman pointed to the phone number at the bottom of the poster. “If you do see her, please ring us on that number.”

“I hope you find her,” Penny said, adding she would certainly be on the lookout for the dog.

*   *   *

Glad to be home, Penny took Trixxi for a short walk, fed her, and then rummaged around in her fridge to see what she could find for her own dinner. She hadn’t paid much attention to food in the past and her fridge often bordered on empty. But at Victoria’s suggestion she had started to buy her groceries online, and now that they were delivered right to her door, she had no excuse for a bare pantry or barren refrigerator. She pulled a cheese and tomato quiche out of the freezer, set the oven to preheat, and wandered into her sitting room. She checked the phone. No messages. She picked up her handbag to sort through the papers she’d brought home and discovered the small parcel that Dilys Hughes had given her that morning. As she unwrapped the paper, a light fragrance escaped. She pushed the edges of the paper back and found a small muslin bag tied with a red ribbon. A little tag hung off it. She turned it over and read,
Lavender and verbena. Place near pillow for restful sleep.
The words were written in an old-fashioned script. She held the little bag to her nose and gave it a tentative sniff. It seemed quite nice, really. The package also contained an envelope. Written on it, in the same cramped handwriting, were the words
Valerian. For sleep. Mix one teaspoon in glass of warm water and take at bedtime.
Do not exceed dosage in one night.
She set the parcel down and went to see to her dinner.

At bedtime, she placed the fragrant little bag near her pillow. The scent was soothing, she had to admit, and while she thought the lavender and verbena harmless enough, she decided not to take the valerian. However, as the sleepless minutes ticked away into a frustrated hour, and then the beginning of another one, she got up and put the kettle on. I’ll try just half a teaspoon with a cup of tea, she thought.

Seventeen

Stronger and a little earlier now, the morning light crept under the window blind, casting a steady beam of brightness across Penny’s bed. She stirred and stretched, then looked at her bedside clock. Eight o’clock! She remembered taking a drink of the valerian brew and nothing after that. She must have slept right through the night. Instantly awake, and going over in her mind the list of things she needed to do to get ready for Victoria’s return, she realized she felt more energetic and refreshed than she had in days. Weeks even.

*   *   *

“You look amazing,” Penny told Victoria when she arrived home that afternoon. “Italy must have really agreed with you. Had a good time, then?”

“It was brilliant. I wasn’t really ready to come back, but you have to go home sometime.” Penny nodded. Victoria pushed a smart paper shopping bag across her desk. “Here, I brought you something back from Florence. I hope you like it.”

“Oh, thank you!” Penny peeked into the bag, and pushing the white tissue paper aside, she pulled out a sleek black leather handbag. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I love it.”

“With your lifestyle, I’m not quite sure where you would wear it—it’s not something you’d take sketching with you, but you might find a time and place for it,” said Victoria. “Perhaps Gareth will take you to a dress-up kind of do where it would be appropriate.”

“It’s always good to have nice things,” said Penny. “Our lives are so casual and underdressed now, but I’m sure I’ll get good use of it.” She smiled at her friend. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

Victoria bobbed her head in acknowledgment as her eyes tightened and a bleak look flashed across her face.

“What’s the matter, Victoria? You don’t seem very pleased to be back. Did something happen out there? Eirlys thought you might have met someone.”

“I did, actually,” said Victoria. “He plays the cello.”

She poured herself another cup of tea and then held up the teapot to Penny, who shook her head. “I love the cello. So mellow and mournful, all at the same time.”

“But it was just a holiday romance, wasn’t it?” asked Penny. “You’re not thinking of packing it in here and moving out there to be with him, are you?”

Victoria set the teapot down.

“No, I’m not. I might have, possibly, had things been different, but…” She shook her head.