to one side, on chairs taken from the dining room, and Davies leaned against the wall, balancing a cup of tea in one hand on a saucer he held in the other.
“Right,” said Bethan, glancing at the papers she was holding. “Let me begin by explaining what happened to Alys Jones in the early morning hours of Saturday, December 5, 1970.
“Sometime not long before daybreak, Alys Jones was apparently on her way to her vehicle, an MG, which had been parked just here,” she said, pointing to a map. “In those days the road was unpaved, and the surrounding area was mainly fields, but now, of course, the area has been built up and includes the housing estate just behind the cottage where we are now.”
She pointed toward Penny’s back door.
“The police received a distress call about six thirty A.M. from a local resident, who had discovered the victim lying in the road. When emergency services reached her, her vital signs were very weak and she died en route to hospital.
“She was the victim of a hit-and-run accident, and the perpetrator was never caught. We don’t know if it was an accident or if she had been deliberately targeted. However, while there was nothing in her past to indicate this was anything other than a tragic accident, the investigation revealed that the driver had made no effort to avoid her. There was no indication of braking or swerving, and for that reason, the accident was regarded as suspicious.”
She paused and looked from one still, focused face to the next. Davies took a slow sip of tea. The clink of china as he set the cup back on its saucer seemed magnified in the silence.
“Of course, forensics weren’t as good then as they are today,” Bethan continued, “and evidence might have been available that, looked at today, could reveal something. But measurements were taken at the time, and it was determined that the point of impact was here.” She pointed to an X on the map. “However, the body was found lying some ten metres farther along the road. We aren’t sure if the victim managed to somehow make her way that distance, or”—she paused for effect and to allow her small audience to prepare themselves—“if the body had been caught and carried along on the car and then fell off. From her injuries, it didn’t look as if the body had been dragged.”
“What about the car or vehicle that hit her?” Victoria asked. “Was it ever located?”
“No. The local garages were notified and asked to be on the lookout for someone bringing in a damaged car for repairs, but nothing turned up.”
After a moment’s silence, she continued.
“House-to-house inquiries were also conducted, including, of course, this one. No one heard or saw anything.”
She looked at Penny.
“Would you like to come up and take a closer look at the photos?”
The others watched respectfully as Penny approached the board. She peered at the grainy black-and-white photos for a moment, and then Bethan pointed at one.
“Start with this one, Penny,” she said. “This photo is a general look at the scene and will give you an idea of where everything was in relation to everything else. So you can see her car still parked just here.” She pointed to the MG. “And the body was found farther along, about here.” Bethan’s finger slid along the photo and stopped.
Penny scanned all the photos, then looked inquiringly at Bethan, who shook her head.
“No, no photos of her here. She was found alive and the priority was to get her to casualty.
“Now many questions remain unanswered,” Bethan continued when the group had settled back in their chairs. “We know the victim had a family connection to this town, but we don’t know what she was doing here at that time. Why she was where she was at that time of day, if you know what I mean.”
Penny rubbed her hands together as if she were experiencing a slight chill and glanced at Davies.
“I think I can answer that,” she said. “Alys had spent the night here, in this cottage, with Emma.”
No one said anything.
“And even though their relationship was not platonic, I’m having a hard time trying to understand why Emma didn’t tell the police that Alys had stopped here that night. That piece of information might have helped with the inquiry. And surely, she would have wanted to know who did this.”
Alwynne looked startled, as if she had just realized the implications of what Penny had