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Authors: Elizabeth J. Duncan

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BOOK: Slated for Death
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“Right, everybody,” she said. “Here's Bevan to lead us to our concert space so we can get everything set up. Be sure to stick together.”

Carrying their bags of material needed for the concert, and as their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they set off one last time down the maze of dark tunnels that led to the concert area, pausing for a moment to gaze at the underground lake, its surface calm and the water cold and clear. The air was fresh, not stale or stuffy as you might imagine, and cool with a hint of dampness like an early October morning after a steady overnight rain.

In the great concert space, rows of folding chairs had been set out in straight lines with a narrow aisle down the centre. A separate row of chairs had been set up near the stage and at a right angle to the audience for local dignitaries and special guests. Penny had arranged for Jimmy to sit at the end of this row nearest the audience. Because Mrs. Lloyd, who was taking tickets would be the last to arrive, and because Florence, who was handling the catering would need to slip out early, chairs had been reserved for them.

Penny smiled to herself as she taped the seat card printed with Florence's name to the backrest of the chair beside Jimmy's—he admired her tremendously and seating her beside him would add to his enjoyment of the event. Mrs. Lloyd would sit beside Florence and Bethan Morgan beside her with Davies on Bethan's right. The extra four seats were reserved for media and the local councilor who had promised he would do his best to attend, which Penny took to mean he'd come if he had nothing better to do and didn't receive a better offer.

Because real burning candles were out of the question for safety reasons, hundreds of battery-operated tea lights lined each side of the aisle and had been placed on every small ledge, nook, and cranny that could hold one. Volunteers had switched them all on a few minutes ago and now their little white artifical flames flickered all around the massive chamber as a visual tribute to the miners who had once worked this space by the light of tallow candles they'd had to pay for themselves.

The fake candles looked real enough, Penny thought, as she admired them, and they certainly helped create the right atmosphere for a special event in such a unique setting.

A small area to the left of the stage, draped by black curtains that so blended in with their surroundings as to be invisible to the audience, had been set up as a kind of green room. Penny pulled the curtain back and peered in. A small lamp rigged up with a heavy-duty extension cord and fitted with a low-wattage bulb shone a pool of weak light over a small table. Karis Edwards sat beside the table, eyes closed, a bottle of water clutched with both hands resting in her lap. She seemed to be meditating or simply contemplating the performance ahead. If she sensed the curtain had been pulled back and someone was observing her, she gave no sign. She remained as she was, still and closed off.

As the sound of excited voices from the tunnel signalled the arrival of the first group of audience members Penny let the curtain drop and approached the volunteers who would act as ushers. “Right. Show time! Torches on and let's get everyone seated as quickly as you can. We want this lot seated before the next group arrives. And be sure to give everyone a program.”

“How will they ever read the program in this light?” asked one.

“It's a souvenir for later,” said Penny. “The choir leader will announce the songs as we go.”

The first arrivals, many of whom were experiencing the mine for the first time and all of whom were wearing daffodils on their lapels, entered the concert space and exclaimed in wonder at the massive cavern lit by dramatic theatre-type lighting enhanced by twinkling candles. They took their seats and as the next group arrived, Penny's shoulders relaxed a little and she let out a long, slow breath of relief. Every seat was filled; this concert just might come together after all.

The last train brought the final guests to be seated in the reserved-seating row. As Penny led the way, Mrs. Lloyd acknowledged her friends and acquaintances in the front row with gracious smiles and nods. Jimmy was helped to his seat, and Florence tucked his blanket around his legs.

Penny stood to one side of the stage with Ifan Williams as an expectant hush fell over the concert chamber. A moment earlier she'd asked him how Taff was doing and was rewarded with a huge smile. Still wearing the smile, he walked to the edge of the slate stage, introduced himself, and welcomed the audience to this special concert on St. David's Day, the national day of celebration of all things Welsh. He paid a moving and emotional tribute to all the miners who had spent their working lives creating this majestic space that they were now enjoying; several audience members, descendents, perhaps of those very men, dabbed at their eyes. Penny was surprised by his eloquence and confidence. Where she hated public speaking, Ifan was thriving on it. He was poised and professional, completely unlike the somewhat awkward and ill-at-ease man she had thought him to be.

He kept his remarks brief and a few moments later he cued the audio technician and musicians to start the performance of the first song, “
Cwm Rhondda
.” This was followed by “
Ar Lan y M
ô
r,
” a popular folk tune about the pleasures of the seaside, and then he invited the audience to join in the singing of the third song, the much-loved “
Calon L
â
n
.” A crowd favourite at Welsh national rugby matches, the song extols the virtues of a pure, clean heart.

Halfway through the song, Penny pulled back the curtain of the backstage area and gave Karis her three-minute stage call.

As the last strains of the song faded away, the crowd broke into applause. Ifan waited. Then, when the cavernous room was quiet, he introduced Karis Edwards and she glided onto the stage, greeted by polite clapping.

Dressed in a simple slate-grey, floor-length wraparound dress she stood in the spotlight, smiling, confident, and composed. As she sang the first few words of her song a capella, the music seemed to float in the air above the audience's heads and then soar upward to the slate ceiling. Her powerful voice filled the chamber with musical magic and a reverent hush fell over the audience as if they knew they were about to hear something extraordinary. She kept them waiting a moment longer than necessary and then the musical accompaniment filled in as she hit the well-known “And I will always love you” to rapturous applause. As the final note faded, the audience was on its feet, cheering wildly. Karis, who seemed a little surprised by the warmth of the applause, stepped back, bowed, blew them a kiss, and then began her second song.

Jimmy leaned forward in his chair staring at Karis. Davies watched him out of the corner of his eye and then spoke in a whisper. “What is it, Jimmy?”

“I've seen her before. She was at the home the day Doreen Roberts died. She was wearing a blue sort of uniform. The others wear purple.”

“Are you sure?'

Jimmy nodded. “Quite sure. Of course, it's a bit difficult to see properly in this light and at this distance. If I could get a closer look at her I might be more certain.”

“After the concert we'll introduce you to her so you can get a closer look.”

Karis performed her next two songs while Penny watched from in front of the curtain. With the end in sight, she could feel the tension in her shoulders starting to drain away.

And then, before she knew it, the concert was almost over. The choir performed “
Rhyfelgyrch Gw
Å·
r Harlech
,” inspired by the siege of Harlech Castle during the Wars of the Roses in the fifteenth century. The applause was rapturous and, finally, there was just the encore performance to go. Penny held her breath. She could almost feel the musicians starting to relax a little.

Karis stepped out from behind the curtain into the spotlight to be greeted by loud and sustained applause. Her face lit up and as the music began she raised her arms as if to embrace the audience. They loved her. The first notes signalled the start of the song Victoria had chosen to end the performance. It was another big song, “I Dreamed a Dream” from
Les Mis
é
rables,
and Karis was ready to give it everything she had.

As the song ended with its melodramatic yet haunting last line, Karis waited for the music to fade out, then smiled at the audience, accepted their applause, raised her arms to them, bowed, and then disappeared.

In the small, curtained-off space, technicians and a few musicians crowded around her to offer congratulations as Karis, flushed with excitement and on the adrenaline high of a winner, smiled and thanked them all. Penny and Victoria exchanged relieved smiles and then Victoria made a small “see you upstairs” gesture and turned back to her harp. Penny realized this was the first time she'd seen Victoria perform. The experience had been oddly moving, as if she were seeing an unknown side of someone she knew well. Penny wondered if Victoria felt the same way when she looked at one of her paintings. Penny gave Victoria a thumbs-up.

Karis took a swig from a water bottle just as the curtain parted and Davies entered, pushing Jimmy in his chair. The chair rocked and bobbed as it tried to negotiate the uneven ground.

Penny immediately went over to them, smiled her gratitude at Davies, and bent down to kiss Jimmy's cheek. He'd had a bath that afternoon and his hair had been washed and was neatly combed. She was glad to see him wearing a warm overcoat with a cheerful red plaid rug over his knees. As her lips touched his freshly shaven face, she inhaled an old-fashioned aftershave, something like bay rum, with a hint of lime. An uncle of hers had worn a similar type of cologne many years ago and smelling it now immediately transported her many years into the past and many miles across an ocean. As she straightened up, the smell of the Giorgio fragrance hit her again. She had smelled it in the mine tunnel after the dress rehearsal but she'd also smelled it at the nursing home. That was the smell that had been in Doreen's room when she'd discovered the body. And here it was again, right beside her.

Karis smiled at Davies and then lowered her eyes to Jimmy, who leaned forward, frowned, and reached back to touch Davies's arm. Her eyes flicked back to Davies, widened slightly, and her posture stiffened. She raised one hand in a small gesture and took a step back. Penny would later say that from that moment, everything seemed to happen in slow-motion and that events unfolded quickly—in confusion and in sharp, detailed relief at the same time. Karis gave Jimmy a dark, hate-filled stare and something unspoken crackled between them. She knows, Davies thought. Karis knows that Jimmy's worked it out that he's seen her before. At the nursing home around the time Doreen died.

Karis turned, brushed past Penny, pulled the curtain back, and melted into the first of the crowd of happy, chattering concertgoers who were being herded out of the concert chamber and into the tunnel.

“It's Karis you want,” Penny said to Davies. “That heavy perfume she wears—Giorgio—it was in the room when I found Doreen's body. It's unmistakeable. Karis was there and I think she killed her.”

Davies yanked the curtain aside and spotting Bethan, waved to attract her attention, and then called her name. The din of the crowd noise made it impossible for him to make himself heard. Penny hesitated a moment, exchanged a quick glance with Jimmy, and bolted after Karis.

“What is it? What's happened?” Bethan shouted, excusing herself and gently pushing people aside to reach Davies.

“Jimmy recognized Karis as having been at the nursing home when Doreen Roberts died,” Davies said in a low voice, “and more importantly, she obviously recognized him. Penny thinks she can place her in Doreen's room at the time of Doreen's death. Karis is spooked and it looks like she's doing a runner. She'll try to work her way through the crowd, and knowing who she is, they'll be happy to let her through.”

Bethan looked wildly at the area outside the chamber and could see only the crowd shuffling along in the semidarkness.

“Oh, Christ,” she muttered. “Can we not ask them to let us through?”

“We have to be very careful here,” said Davies. “We don't want to alarm the crowd or cause panic. The results of that would be disastrous. It's better to let her go than risk a crush.”

By now the crowd was out of the chamber and into the tunnel, being led along to the train. As only about twenty-eight people could board the train at one time, and the rest would have to wait in the large open area nearby, Davies realized too late that for crowd-control purposes it would have been better to hold the crowd in the concert chamber, counting them out in groups of about twenty-five and escorting small, organized groups to the train. When the train reached the surface, the next group of twenty-five could then be brought forward ready to meet the train when it returned to the lower level. However, since no one had anticipated this kind of emergency, about a hundred people, two or three abreast, were now surging through the semidarkness of the tunnel. He didn't have a hope of getting through them and even if he did, he had no idea in what direction Karis had gone.

Davies turned back to Jimmy who said something that made his blood run cold.

“Penny's gone after her.” Davies looked around wildly.

“What do mean? Did Penny…?”

“She just took off after her. Why would she do such a daft thing?” Before Davies could reply, Jimmy continued. “Never mind. Don't answer that. Just get on it. You've got to do something. There's no telling what that Karis woman might do.”

 

Forty-three

In the now almost empty concert chamber, a few musicians and Bevan Jones and his team were clearing up. Davies approached Jones as workers stacked chairs and a technician dismantled the sound system. He placed his hand on Jones's arm.

BOOK: Slated for Death
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