“Yes, we should go,” agreed Mrs. Lloyd. “Everyone will be there. And no doubt there’ll be refreshments afterward.”
“It’s good to see you getting back to being your old self, Evelyn.”
“Well, what choice is there, really? We must keep calm and carry on, as they used to say during the war.” She reached for the latest copy of Cheshire Life magazine. “I’d love a cup of tea, Florence, if you were thinking of putting the kettle on, and do you know, I believe I could do justice to one of those lovely scones you baked this morning.”
This time Florence cracked a small, brief smile.
For the second time that day Penny walked from her home to the spa, this time quickly and deep in thought. Surprisingly and suddenly, the sun had come out, adding a warm, welcoming touch to the day and, for the moment at least, pushing the rain clouds to one side. Although most of the snow had disappeared from the streets, some remained, brown and crusted, pushed up against the sides of the buildings. But the pavement was bare and dry, and quite a few people were out and about.
As she passed the old manicure salon, she glanced in the window and saw Eirlys, the young manicurist who had been hired a few months ago and who had done so much to bring in younger customers, bent over a large packing crate. Penny pushed open the door. The shelves were now bare, the furniture was gone, and the room held surprisingly few memories. Eirlys straightened up and ran her hands down the sides of her jeans.
“Hi, Penny. I’m almost done. Victoria was here for a while, but after you called, she rushed off to the spa and hasn’t come back.”
“That’s fine, Eirlys.” Penny looked around. “You’ve done a great job here with all this.”
“There were just a lot of small items to pack up, and Victoria helped with some of it,” Eirlys said as she put the lid on the last box. “Are you feeling sad to be leaving your salon?”
“No, surprisingly I’m not, considering how many years I spent building up the business and working here. I’m really looking forward to all the exciting things we’re going to do in the spa.” She smiled at her young assistant. “Well, you’re almost finished here, so let’s lock up. Have you taken a break today?”
Eirlys shook her head.
“Right, well, tell you what. Take the rest of the afternoon off, and we’ll see you at the spa bright and early tomorrow, all ready for our first day. Mrs. Lloyd is your first customer, and you know she’ll expect everything to be just so.”
Eirlys grinned. “What I’d like to do, if it’s all right with you, Penny, is eat a little something, take a bit of time to get cleaned up, and then come to the spa this evening and help you set up the new manicure space. I’ll need to know where everything is in the morning anyway, and Mrs. Lloyd isn’t the only one who likes everything just so.”
“Eirlys, that sounds like a wonderful idea. Shall we say seven P.M.? I don’t know where we’d be without you.”
“Lost?”
“That’s exactly the word I was looking for. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”
As Penny pushed open the door to the spa, a trim woman in a bright red hat who had been speaking to Rhian, the receptionist, turned around and gave her a warm smile.
“Oh, there’s Penny that I was telling you about, one of the owners,” Rhian said. “She’ll be able to help you.”
The woman thanked Rhian and took a step closer to Penny.
“Hello,” she said. “My name’s Dorothy Martin, and I just dropped in on the off chance I might be able to get a manicure. I’ve never had one in my life and I thought it’d be fun. But I didn’t realize that you haven’t opened yet, so I’ll just be on my way.”
“No, wait,” said Penny, intrigued by her soft midwestern American accent. “It’s true we aren’t really open until tomorrow, but if you don’t mind a bit of chaos, I can do you now, if you like. Most of our nail polishes won’t be arriving until later this evening, but I have a few colours here that might suit you, as long as you’re not too fussy.”
“I’m certainly not fussy, and I’d appreciate that very much,” Dorothy said.
“Well then,” said Penny. “Come through and we’ll get started.”
The two women conversed for about fifteen minutes on their shared experiences as North American expatriates living in the U.K. Penny admitted she’d never really acquired a taste for curry, and Dorothy said that even after all these years she was still quite shocked by the strange ingenuity of British crime.
“In the States, people just tend to shoot each other and get it over with, but here they’ll fiddle with the electricity so the missus will electrocute herself while she’s trimming the hedge.”
“Yes!” Penny said. “I’ve noticed that myself. In fact, we’ve just had a murder here at Conwy Castle that you might have heard about. A man, an American in fact, went off the wall walk with a letter opener in his back. Two ladies who might have connections to the case have asked me to see if I can find out anything.”
“I’ve solved a few murders myself, oddly enough,” said Dorothy. “Why don’t you fill me in and I’ll see if anything comes to mind.”
After listening carefully while Penny described the events at the castle and mentioned Detective Chief Inspector Davies’ role, Dorothy thought for a moment. Then: “This is really going to be a difficult one. Open space and everyone coming and going. But, you know, I’ve always found in our kind of murder that often the important thing is not what’s present at the scene but what isn’t there. Or sometimes your lead will come from someone whom you would expect to behave in a certain way but instead does something that’s really out of character.”
As Penny applied the finishing top coat, Dorothy smiled at her.
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Penny, but your eyes lit up when you mentioned that policeman of yours. I married mine, and it was absolutely the right thing to do. We’re very happy, Alan and I.”
“That’s the second time today someone has hinted at that.”
“Well, no pressure then!”
Penny helped Dorothy gather up her belongings and then showed her out.
“Let me know how you get on, Penny,” she said. “Alan and I are heading home to Sherebury for Christmas, but if you’re ever out our way, we’d love to see you. You and Gareth, too, of course.”
Penny thanked her and waved as Dorothy went on her way. She spent a few moments organizing her office, thinking about her brooch, and for the hundredth time regretting the momentary carelessness of leaving her handbag unattended on the reception desk. She was now paying dearly for that.
Somehow she managed to get through the day with her missing brooch always lurking just beneath her thoughts, waiting to surface again the moment a crack in her concentration appeared. In the evening, grateful for an enthusiastic Eirlys who had taken great care in arranging the nail varnishes on their display shelves, they had finished the final preparations for the new manicure salon. The job done, Penny saw Eirlys safely home and then continued on to her own cottage.
As she pushed open the door, something jammed under it caught her attention. She bent over and picked up a plain beige envelope which she carried through to the kitchen. Setting her bag down on the countertop, she noticed the envelope was not addressed to anyone. She ripped it open and pulled out two sheets of paper, stapled together, with a yellow Post-it note stuck on the first page.