The Cold Light of Mourning - By Elizabeth J. Duncan Page 0,59
doing the injecting, like this.” She twisted around quickly to her left. “The toxicology tests are still in the works. They might pick up traces of something on the needle.”
They looked at each other and Morgan put into words what they were both starting to think.
“So, am I right in thinking that he tried to kill her three ways? Blows to the head, strangulation, and some kind of weird lethal injection? It doesn’t make sense. Does it? What kind of person would do that?”
Davies winced.
“It doesn’t seem to make sense, but that’s what our job is. We have to find the sense in it.”
After a moment’s silence Morgan continued.
“And there’s one other weird thing. They found a small piece of curved, red plastic, about two inches long, all tangled up in her hair, at the wound site. They can’t guess what it is or where it came from, but from the look of it,” she pulled a photo from the envelope and placed it on his desk, “it might be a handle of some sort. See how it’s curved? What do you think?”
Davies peered at the photo and shrugged.
“Oh, and forensics called. They’ve been through everything found in the grave including the two mobiles. One belonged to Meg Wynne, the other belonged to a—” She paused while she flipped over a couple of pages in her notebook. “To a Simon Redfern. Reported stolen or lost last month in Putney, apparently.”
Davies gave a small snort of disbelief.
“Putney!”
“Yes, sir, it’s located in the London borough of Wandsworth.”
“I know where Putney is, Bethan, I’m just staggered that something like that would turn up in our case. And who’s this Simon Redfern when he’s at home? How does he figure into all this?”
“Well, that’s just it, sir. He’s an eleven-year-old boy. His mum reckons the phone was nicked off him at the playground, or fell out of his coat on the bus or something like that.”
Davies put his chin in his hand and shook his head.
“Is it just me being old fashioned or is it normal for an eleven-year-old to have a mobile phone?”
Morgan snickered.
“With respect, sir, it’s you being old fashioned. Kids much younger than eleven have them. Come to that, everybody has one.”
Davies shook his head. Everybody already knew his views on mobile telephones, so there was no point in going into it.
“Anyway,” continued Morgan, “we know that one mobile belonged to Meg Wynne and the other one has two unidentified sets of fingerprints on it. Adult prints, not young Simon’s.”
“Well, look into it. Have they traced the calls on them yet? And we still need to interview the staff at the Hall.”
Morgan continued riffling through her notebook.
“About the second phone. I wondered if maybe a grave digger could have dropped it in. Might have found it or picked it up secondhand somewhere. I’ll ask them when I speak to them if they can shed some light.”
“It’s possible, I suppose.”
Davies set down his coffee mug and cleared his throat.
“Bethan. Sergeant.”
“Sir?”
“I’m going out for a bit. You carry on here.”
“Anywhere nice, sir?”
“Nowhere special. Llanelen.”
“Ah, right.”
“Yes, I’m going to have another word with her, you know, Ms. Brannigan.”
“That would be Penny Brannigan, would it sir?” asked Morgan.
“Don’t be cheeky, Sergeant.”
“No, sir. But if you don’t mind my saying, sir, you might want to get a haircut before you go.”
Davies patted the back of his neck.
“Really?”
“Well, yes, sir, she is in the grooming business after all, and well, women notice these things.”
“I’m due for one anyway, I guess,” he said as he prepared to leave. “Right, well, I’ll ring you later, let you know how I got on.”
Morgan watched him go and once he was safely out of the room, smiled to herself. She shook her head gently and her dark curls shone in the morning sun.
This is going to be good, she thought. He just doesn’t know it yet.
As lunchtime approached, Penny turned to Victoria and suggested that she pick up some salad and sandwiches from the local supermarket.
“I’ll just finish up here with Mrs. Lloyd, and then we can go upstairs, make some tea, and continue where we left off this morning,” Penny said.
A moment later Victoria caught her drift.
“Oh, right. Right. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She was just pulling the door shut behind her as Davies made his way down Station Road. He watched her turn right and set off in the opposite direction before he approached the door to Penny’s shop. Peering in, he watched as she took a