Chapter Twenty-One

“I hope you weren’t worried that I was annoyed with you about taking time off work to go to Dublin,” said Victoria the next morning as she buttered a piece of toast. “With Rhian back at work, there was no problem, and she was so grateful to you for trying to find out what happened to Rhodri, I couldn’t possibly have minded. Anyway, it was only a couple of days. And I must say, your asking Rhian to come back to work was brilliant. I’m not sure I would have thought of that. You might not look it, but you really are rather clever.” Penny smiled as she held up her cup and Victoria filled it with freshly brewed coffee. “I’m glad to see you’re looking much better this morning,” Victoria continued. “You were half dead last night.”

“I always sleep really well in your spare room,” Penny said. “That bed is heavenly.”

“So tell me what happened. Was it worth it, going to Dublin?”

“I think so. I found Michael Quinn in a pub and bought him a couple of drinks. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but he’s not doing well. I don’t know where he’s living, but he’s drinking too much, and I don’t think he’s got a proper job. Does appraisals for an auction house, but it’s not steady work. Anyway, I asked him lots of questions. He was evasive, but I’m quite certain he was in on the theft of the chair.”

“What makes you think that?”

“He told me Emyr gave him a drink in the Ty Brith Hall library the day of the antique show, so he knows the layout of the downstairs. I’m pretty sure he was the one who guided the thieves to the Black Chair so they could steal it. And I think he was the one who bumped into Lane and threatened him if he told anyone what he’d seen.”

“And Rhodri?” asked Victoria.

“Rhodri was a student of his, so he must have known him, at least a little, but I can’t bring myself to believe he had anything to do with his death.”

“Hmm. Well, I can see why you wouldn’t want to think that.”

“And then I rang Bethan to let her know where he was, and she was going to ask the Dublin police to pick him up and hold him for questioning. So we’ll see what happens.”

*   *   *

When the last client had left the nail salon, Penny tidied up and placed an order for a couple of new bottles of nail varnish. She did a walk-through of all the rooms, checking that everything was ready for the opening of business the next morning, said good night to Victoria, and let herself out the front door, locking it behind her. As she grasped the wrought iron gate and pulled it open, to her amazement, it swung silently and smoothly on its hinges.

“Hello,” said a voice in the darkness, and out of the shadow stepped retired Det. Chief Inspector Gareth Davies.

“Is this your work?” asked Penny, indicating the gate. “It’s lost its squeak.”

“It has,” he replied. “I’m only sorry it took me so long to get around to it. I told you a long time ago I’d sort it, and I finally made good on that promise.”

“It’s much better,” said Penny. “Thank you.”

“I just wanted to say good-bye,” Gareth said. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to get together for that cup of coffee, but I understand you were away.”

“Yes, I was. You’re here to say good-bye … you’re leaving, then?’

“Contracts were finally exchanged this afternoon, so now that the house is sold, I’m off to spend a few days with my son and his family in Liverpool, and then back to Scotland.”

“I’m glad it all worked out for you,” said Penny. “I wish you every happiness.”

“Would you like a ride home?” Gareth asked.

“No, thank you. I’m meeting someone for dinner.”

With a questioning look he held out his arms, and she moved closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her against the soft wool of his navy-blue overcoat for a moment, and then released her.

He took a couple of steps back, then turned and walked away. The street lamp cast a yellowish light over his tall figure, but as he emerged out of its halo, he blended into the darkness and disappeared.

“Good-bye, Gareth,” said Penny.

*   *   *

“Evening, Inspector.” The waiter greeted Bethan and Penny at the entrance to the recently renovated dining room of the Red Dragon Hotel and showed them to a table. “Good to see you again. You haven’t been in for a while.”

Bethan acknowledged the greeting with a smile as the server handed her and Penny menus.

“I didn’t realise how hungry I am,” said Penny as she studied the menu. “I do this every time. Look at everything on offer and then order the same thing. I’ll have the roast chicken with a jacket potato.” Bethan opted for pasta, and after taking their orders and collecting their menus, the server brought Penny a glass of wine and Bethan a sparkling mineral water.

“Cheers,” said Bethan, raising her glass.

“Cheers,” Penny replied.

“Well, now,” Bethan began. “As you can imagine, the chief constable wants that Black Chair found and returned to its owners in time for the visit by the Prince of Wales, and the people responsible for the death of Rhodri Phillips caught.”

“Of course he does.”

“And besides the chief constable demanding a result, the story is finally going to break tomorrow in the national media. It’s going to be everywhere, and reporters will be demanding to know what’s being done. So I’m under a lot of pressure right now to get a result, and quickly.”

“Yes, you are. So, tell me. Did the Dublin police pick up Quinn? What’s happening with him?”

“They did pick him up, they talked to him, and rather to my surprise, he agreed to come back here to be formally interviewed, so that’s one thing that’s gone my way. Otherwise, it could have been a long process, not to mention the dreaded paperwork an extradition warrant involves.”

“Has he admitted to his part in the robbery? Telling the thieves where they could find the chair?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m convinced he did that. And if I’m right, what would he be charged with? Being an accessory, or something like that?”

“If he gave the thieves information used to plan a burglary, he could be charged with burglary, because he was part of it. But he could be in serious trouble. If he gave them information used to commit this burglary, he could be charged with murder.”

“What! Murder! Oh, surely not. I can’t believe he had anything to do with Rhodri’s death.”

“He may not be the person who actually killed Rhodri, but in law, there’s this thing called secondary liability. It’s complicated, but basically, if you help someone commit a crime, so in this case, robbery”—Penny nodded to indicate she was following—“and then if during the commission of that crime, another, more serious crime occurs—murder—you can be charged as an equal party in the second crime.”

“Yikes. I never knew that.”

“Well, we’ll see what the investigation turns up, but our Mr. Quinn could find himself in very deep trouble, depending on what the CPS recommends.”

“CPS … Crown …”

“Prosecution Service. They review the police investigation, then determine what the charges will be, and then prosecute in court.”

“You know I want to help in any way I can.”

Bethan let out a light, fluttery laugh. “Well, if you were to find out who killed Rhodri Phillips and were somehow able to recover the Black Chair, that would go a long way to solving my problems and would make the chief constable very happy.”

“I’m sure it would.” Penny took a sip of wine. “But your team is interviewing everybody who was at the Hall on Saturday night, so you must be getting a good idea of what happened.”

“I’ve got the big picture, yes, but I’m still missing that one key piece that will make everything else fall into place. It could be that vital little bit of information that somebody has but doesn’t even know they have or how important it is. I hope we’ll get some leads from the interview with Quinn that will open up new lines of inquiry, but I need to make sure that I’m using all the resources available to me. And that includes you.”

“So what would you like me to do?”

“Keep doing what you’re doing. Keep your eyes and ears open and let me know immediately if something occurs to you. You know what I always tell people. No matter how trivial or insignificant a detail might seem to you, it might fit in with something we already know.” The server appeared with their meals, and Penny asked for a second glass of wine. “It might be helpful if we reviewed what we know so far,” said Bethan as she picked up her knife and fork. “What are your thoughts?”

“You used the word ‘key.’ I still think the key to Rhodri’s murder is the chair, and when we find out who stole the chair, we’ll find the killer.”

“Or killers.”

“Or killers. I talked it over with Jimmy, and as a reformed character, he had some good insight. He thinks the chair was stolen to order, probably for a collector because it’s way too hot for the open market. It seems likely that Rhodri was killed during the theft. Rhodri was struck over the head with a rock or brick, most likely from the garden or walkway, so the thieves didn’t come prepared to kill, and I doubt they intended to kill him, but maybe he got in the way somehow. We don’t know yet what his role was. He might have been working for the gang, and maybe he knew too much and threatened to go to the authorities. Or maybe he tried to stop them and that’s why he was killed. So I think we have to keep digging and find out as much as we can about Rhodri.”

“We’ve talked to his family.”

“Have you talked to his friends?”

“We’re still trying to track down his friends. His mother doesn’t seem to know anybody he hung out with, and if his workmates at the hotel know, they’re not saying.”

“I might be able to help you there. Eirlys mentioned that she went out with Rhodri a couple of times and on one occasion, he had two or three other lads with him. I don’t know who they are. About the same age, but she described them as … what was the word she used? ‘Rough.’ In fact, she didn’t like them at all, and although she liked Rhodri well enough, she decided not to see him anymore because of the company he kept. She said they seemed to have some kind of hold over him.”

“I need to speak to Eirlys, then.”

Penny nodded. “I thought you might, and I told her so. She mentioned this to me on Monday, and I probably should have passed it on to you sooner.”

“That’s all right. We’ve been busy enough with the people we already had to interview.”

Penny nodded, then continued, “And we do have to consider there might be an Irish connection to all this. Michael Quinn is Irish. I think he was on-scene the night of the robbery to direct the thieves to the library, where they knew the chair would be. The travellers that set up camp near my cottage just after the theft are Irish. Is there a connection? Are they involved? Or is it just coincidence?”

Bethan set down her knife and fork and folded her hands. She gave Penny her full attention.

“And the one person who knows more than he’s told us is Lane. We don’t know for sure if it was Michael Quinn who spoke to Lane in the hallway during the dinner party, but I think it was.”

“Quinn might confirm that when we interview him.”

“And we don’t know what else Lane saw or heard.”

“I gave him a few days to get himself together, and he’s first on my list to interview tomorrow.”

Their meal was interrupted a few minutes later by the ringing of Penny’s phone. She pulled it out of her handbag and checked the number. “Oh, it’s the nursing home. Must be about Jimmy. They wouldn’t be ringing unless there’s a problem, so I’d better answer it.” She pressed the green button. “Hello? Yes, this is Penny.” She listened, nodded a couple of times, then said, “Right. Can you tell him I’ll be in to see him this evening? Thank you.” She ended the call.

In response to Bethan’s questioning eyebrow, she said, “Apparently Jimmy fell out of his wheelchair. He was shaken up a bit, but nothing’s broken. Not an emergency. He’s resting now. We can finish our meal, and I’ll pop in to see him on my way home.”

“I’ll come with you.”

They finished their main course and, by unspoken agreement, skipped dessert, settled their bill, and were on their way.