Free Slated for Death by Elizabeth J. Duncan

it made his kid sick. Went on about how the kid has asthma and how he couldn’t breathe on account of the air freshener and they had to take him to A and E.”
    â€œWe don’t sell air freshener on our stall.”
    â€œWell, you know that and I know that, but apparently he didn’t. His wife bought air freshener at the market and he assumed it was from us, I guess.”
    Rebeccah bit her lower lip and frowned.
    â€œI hope he didn’t report us to the trading-standards people.”
    â€œBut the funny thing is, I think they knew each other. Because when he left, Mam said something like, ‘See you tomorrow.’”
    â€œAnd tomorrow was…”
    â€œThe day she died.”
    The two said nothing and Rebeccah carried on with the meal preparation. She quartered a small tomato and picked up a wedge of cheddar cheese.
    Peris looked up from his phone. “How much do you think we’ll get?”
    She set down the knife and faced him. The wind rattled the windowpane and fat raindrops, barely visible through the condensation, raced in rivulets down the glass.
    â€œâ€˜Get’?”
    â€œWell, yeah. First Mam and now Nain . They must have left something between them and it’ll come to us now, won’t it? How much do you think we’ll get?”
    â€œDo you know, Peris, I haven’t given that a thought. I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that my mother died today.”

 
    Thirteen
    â€œRight, well, thanks for letting me know. Yes, I’ll tell him.” Sgt. Bethan Morgan pressed the button to end the call and looked at her supervisor, DCI Gareth Davies.
    â€œSir,” she said. “We may have a problem.”
    He waited.
    â€œThe GP went to the nursing home, examined Doreen’s body, and saw nothing that indicated further investigation would be necessary. He’s signed the death certificate and notified the coroner.”
    Davies raised an eyebrow. “And?”
    â€œAnd whilst he was examining her, he found a small piece of slate in her left hand. Of course, he didn’t think anything of it. Why would he? Just thought it was something she was holding when she died. He often sees people clutching something that meant something to them—rosaries, or a photo, even a bit of clothing.”
    â€œOh, God, no,” said Davies, rising from his chair. “Call the nursing home and tell them not to move the body and not to disturb anything. Tell them we’re on our way.”
    â€œI already did that. We’re too late. The body was removed from the room as soon as the doctor left and all her things have been packed up and the room’s been cleaned and readied for the next occupant.”
    Davies sank back in his chair.
    â€œWe’ll have to talk to Penny. She saw the body. Let’s see what she remembers. See if she can tell us anything. I’ll talk to her and you go to the nursing home and go through the belongings. If the piece of slate is still there, we’ll need to find out where both of them came from.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œI know that’ll be a big task; there are so many old quarries around here, but a geologist at the University of Bangor may be able to help.”
    *   *   *
    â€œSorry to bother you, but we’ve had a setback with our investigation into the death of Glenda Roberts,” Davies said as he sat down on the sofa in Penny’s comfortable sitting room.
    â€œI’m always glad to help,” Penny replied. “You know that.”
    â€œI do.” Davies smiled at her. “This is official, I’m afraid. I’m going to have to ask you a few questions.”
    Penny raised her hands in a go-ahead gesture.
    â€œI need you to tell me everything you can about what Doreen Roberts looked like when you found her. The position of her body. What your first thoughts were. Start with the run-up to finding her. Put that in