The Cold Light of Mourning - By Elizabeth J. Duncan Page 0,61
as she always did, held out her hands at arm’s length for inspection.
“Very nice, Penny, as usual. What colour did you say that is?”
“Melon of Troy.”
“Melon of Troy!” chuckled Mrs. Lloyd. “I never! Well, as you say, Penny, we’re done, so I’ll be on my way. Lovely to meet you, Inspector. If you need to speak to me again, I’m sure you know where to find me.”
Penny gathered up Mrs. Lloyd’s bags, handed them to her, and thanked her as she made her way to the door, where Davies was waiting to open it.
“Thank you, Inspector. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my new nails, would I! Melon of Troy!”
As the door swung slowly shut, Penny joined him and turned the sign to CLOSED. Turning around she faced Davies and smiled up at him.
“Victoria’s just gone to get us some things for lunch but I’m sure there’ll be enough for you, if you want to join us. I was going to go upstairs to make some tea,” she said.
Davies hesitated, glanced down at her, and then peered through the glass window in the door.
“Actually, I had dropped in on the off chance that you might be free for lunch,” he said. “I’d like to go over your statement again, just in case you’ve remembered anything else. Sometimes it helps to talk about things in a neutral environment. I think it’s possible that you know more than you think you know. So far, you’re our most important witness. And I did want to ask you about something, and that’s …” He stopped as Penny leaned slightly closer to him and craned her neck to watch as Victoria turned the corner, a shopping bag in each hand.
“Excuse me,” she said, reaching past Davies to open the door. “I’ve just got to let Victoria in. But do, please, join us for lunch. It’s no bother, and we’d like you to.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” he said, as a breathless Victoria pushed her way past them.
“Oh, God, my arms are breaking,” she moaned. “There were a few items on sale so I got in some extras so we can have them on hand.” Setting the bags down, she smiled at Davies.
“Hello, there, what brings you here? Joining us for lunch, are you?”
Davies looked at the two women, and smiled.
“I guess I am. Thank you.”
Upstairs in the flat, crowded around the small table with cups of tea, sandwiches, salad, cheese, and biscuits, Davies looked at Penny.
“Mrs. Lloyd said something that seemed to startle you. Why was that?” he asked.
“Mm,” said Penny, as she put her egg-and-cress sandwich on her plate. “It was the strangest thing. Just this morning Victoria and I were going back over the events of the Saturday morning when that woman, the bridal impostor whoever she was, came for a manicure and I remembered that she had said something about having peonies at her wedding, so when Mrs. Lloyd mentioned that there had been peonies at the wedding, it made me wonder.”
Victoria looked at her admiringly.
“Penny, you’re brilliant! Don’t you see? It means that whoever killed Meg Wynne must have known what flowers she had chosen. It was an inside job!”
She looked triumphantly from one to the other.
Penny smiled back at her, and then frowned slightly.
“I’d be curious to know, though, more about Meg Wynne’s background.” She glanced at Davies. “You know what hotbeds for gossip villages are. There are rumours going around that she wasn’t on the best terms with her father, that he drank too much, and had a violent temper.”
“Oh, yes,” said Davies, nodding. “We’re looking into him. He’s in the frame.”
And then, silently signalling that the subject of the murder was closed, he reached for another sandwich.
“I’ll just stay here and tidy up,” said Victoria, as Penny and the policeman stood up from the table. “I want another cup of tea, anyway. You two carry on.”
Davies and Penny made their way downstairs and into the salon.
“By the way,” said Penny as they stood in front of the door, “what was it you wanted to ask me?”
“Sorry?”
“When you first got here, you said there was something you wanted to ask me. I wondered what it was.”
“Do you know, it’s gone right out of my head. Can’t have been that important, I guess. If I remember what it is, I’ll ring you.”
Penny fiddled with her watch strap.
“I was just thinking,” she said, “that perhaps Victoria and I could ask around and see what we can find out—”