Evanly Bodies - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,41

a pizza parlor in Llandudno, we'd know better what direction to take."

She spread her hands in a gracious gesture, still clutching her handkerchief in one of them. "There's nothing more I'd like than to help you, Inspector," she said, "but I can't think of any possible link. I'm sure Martin's students eat pizza, of course. It seems to be a mainstay of the student diet these days, doesn't it? But I don't think you'd have got Martin to touch a slice."

Bragg nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Rogers. You've been very help ful. You're free to go, only please don't leave the area without notifying us. We may need to ask you more questions as this inquiry progresses."

"Thank you, Inspector." She nodded to the officers then left the room.

For a moment there was silence, then Bragg sighed. "Back to square one," he said. "Damn. I was so sure it was the widow. Damn and blast that bloody pizza parlor. Oh well, I suppose we better get down there and see for ourselves."

Papa Luigi's was in a row of shops behind the train station. The others were a laundromat, a corner grocery, Yvette's Beauty Salon, and the Taj Mahal Take-out Curries. It was in the old part of town that had been built in Victorian times and probably seen better days. Now it had a seedy air about it. The larger houses opposite were all divided into flats, and some looked in desperate need of a coat of paint. News of the murder had obviously leaked to the population because there was quite a crowd loitering with interest-boys on dirt bikes, mothers with prams, and some scruffy-looking youths with various facial piercings.

"The couple lived over the shop," Bragg informed the others as they parked on a double yellow line and emerged from the car.

"Then you'd think the wife would have heard the shot," Evan said.

"Yes, you'd have thought so. And so should the people above the other shops." He pointed out several brown-skinned faces peering down from above the curry take-out.

"Perhaps gunfire is so usual in this neighborhood that nobody thinks twice about it," Pritchard ventured.

"This is Wales, boy, not Chicago," Bragg said dryly. "I don't know where you live, but I've yet to find a corner of Wales in which gunfire is a usual occurrence." He looked around at the youths, lounging against a betting shop on the other side of the road. "I'm not saying a place like this won't have its share of drugs and violence and gangs. Hello-" he broke off. "It looks like forensics have beaten us to it this time."

Evan spotted the white police vehicle tucked in behind a delivery van. There was crime scene tape across the front of the shop.

"Let's take a look around first, to get our bearings before we go inside," Bragg said. He led them across the street. The crowd watched with interest. Beside each of the shops there was a front door. The one beside Luigi's was open, presumably leading up to the flat over the shop. The curtains upstairs were closed, however. Bragg led them down the side street to the alley that ran behind the block of shops. It was wide enough to take deliveries, and, indeed, there was a van parked behind the laundromat. Each of the shops had a back door that opened onto the alley. On the far side of the alley was a high wooden fence, concealing the small back gardens of the houses beyond. And the toot of a diesel horn and then the approaching rumble was a reminder that the railway lay just on the other side of those houses.

There was tape across the alleyway. Bragg was about to duck under it when a man in a dark, roll neck sweater stepped out to block him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Who the hell are you?" Bragg demanded.

"Police Constable Parry, and this is a crime scene. You need to step away."

"Police Constable Parry, are you? What's this then?" Bragg pointed at the black combat pants and sweater.

"New uniform," Parry said. "Now if you'll just go back the way you came."

Bragg whipped out a warrant card. "I'm Detective Inspector Bragg, son."

"Inspector Mostyn didn't tell me you were coming." The young policeman stood his ground.

"Inspector Mostyn?"

"In charge of this case."

"The hell he is. Wasn't he told we'd be taking over?"

"Taking over?"

"We're the Major Crimes Unit from headquarters. Where is he?"

"In there with the forensic team. Shall I tell him you're here?"

Bragg's ears had turned distinctly red.