whatever, who spenther life in foster homes until he rescued her from a life of drudgery.’
Dewi leaned over to fasten McKenna’s seat belt. ‘You sound like you’ve taken against the man, sir. Did you see his wife?’
‘No.’
‘Is the house posher inside than out?’
‘It’s very discreetly the home of very rich people who don’t need to bother about any of the things which trouble us ordinary mortals,’ McKenna said. ‘And they have open fires everywhere. Maybe Mari doubles as Cinderella for them.’
Bumping up the lane, Dewi remarked cheerfully, ‘Mam always says even the pope and royalty have to go to the lavvy.’ He laughed. ‘Did you know Henry the Eighth employed a “Gentleman of the Stools” to wipe his backside for him? I saw it on TV. When Henry took a laxative, the man wrote: “The King had a veritable siege of the bowels”. I’d call Hogg a veritable siege of the bowels.’ He slipped the engine to first gear to take the brutal hill past St Mary’s. ‘D’you reckon Elis is another? Did he know where Arwel might’ve been for nearly a week before he turned up dead?’
‘That girl is absolutely stunned with grief, sir,’ Janet told McKenna. ‘She’s like a zombie.’
Easing himself into the chair behind the desk, McKenna searched for his cigarettes. ‘Did she not have much to say?’
‘She didn’t even answer my questions. She was off somewhere else altogether.’ As the smoke from McKenna’s cigarette rose pungent in the air, Janet sniffed.
‘D’you want one?’
‘It’s not the smoke. I took Carol to a poxy café for some lunch and my clothes stink of frying. She hardly ate anything, just picked at a few chips. She’s painfully thin. D’you think she’s anorexic?’
‘Elis says she seems to be made from light.’
‘Fancy him knowing her. Hardly the same social circle.’
‘Arwel took him to meet the family. It seems he thought a great deal of Mr Elis.’
‘And what did Mr Elis think of Arwel?’
‘He’s as much stunned in his own way as Carol.’
‘I’m not surprised. His reputation could be on the line.’
‘He’s no fool,’ McKenna pointed out. ‘His live-in maid was in care, and I want her interviewed as soon as possible.’ He scribbled Mari’s telephone number on a sheet of paper andpushed it across the desk. ‘Be nice to her. She knows the Thomases, and Elis thinks she was sweet on Arwel.’
‘No word from HQ yet about interviewing Blodwel kids,’ Owen Griffiths told McKenna. ‘I’ll chivvy them along in a while. Social Services might be trying to hide something, but then again, they might just be following the rules about questioning minors, and confidentiality and what-have-you.’ The superintendent sighed. ‘Pain in the arse, like most rules.’
‘You’ll be retired and away from it all soon.’ McKenna smiled. ‘Honourably retired.’
‘Don’t be snide. Policing’s a dirty job at times, and some folk get their hands in the muck a bit too deep.’ Griffiths pushed his coffee mug round and round on the blotter. ‘My wife’s got the next five years organized to the minute. She’s afraid I’ll get bored.’
‘You’re more likely to wonder how you ever found time to work.’
‘You think so?’ Griffiths asked, his eyes bleak. ‘My job’s so much a part of my life I can’t imagine being without it, but there’s hellish pressure to take early retirement. HQ want to make room for others, and the family say I should get out before I’m too old to do anything but sit in a rocking-chair going gaga. You thought any more about applying for the vacancy? I have it on good authority it’d be nothing more than a formality.’
‘I’m not sure I want to return to uniform, promotion or not.’
‘You’ve been sure about nothing since you split with Denise. You’ve spent the last six months in limbo, waiting for God knows what.’
McKenna fidgeted, snapping his lighter off and on. ‘It’s hard making plans for
Dewi leaned over to fasten McKenna’s seat belt. ‘You sound like you’ve taken against the man, sir. Did you see his wife?’
‘No.’
‘Is the house posher inside than out?’
‘It’s very discreetly the home of very rich people who don’t need to bother about any of the things which trouble us ordinary mortals,’ McKenna said. ‘And they have open fires everywhere. Maybe Mari doubles as Cinderella for them.’
Bumping up the lane, Dewi remarked cheerfully, ‘Mam always says even the pope and royalty have to go to the lavvy.’ He laughed. ‘Did you know Henry the Eighth employed a “Gentleman of the Stools” to wipe his backside for him? I saw it on TV. When Henry took a laxative, the man wrote: “The King had a veritable siege of the bowels”. I’d call Hogg a veritable siege of the bowels.’ He slipped the engine to first gear to take the brutal hill past St Mary’s. ‘D’you reckon Elis is another? Did he know where Arwel might’ve been for nearly a week before he turned up dead?’
‘That girl is absolutely stunned with grief, sir,’ Janet told McKenna. ‘She’s like a zombie.’
Easing himself into the chair behind the desk, McKenna searched for his cigarettes. ‘Did she not have much to say?’
‘She didn’t even answer my questions. She was off somewhere else altogether.’ As the smoke from McKenna’s cigarette rose pungent in the air, Janet sniffed.
‘D’you want one?’
‘It’s not the smoke. I took Carol to a poxy café for some lunch and my clothes stink of frying. She hardly ate anything, just picked at a few chips. She’s painfully thin. D’you think she’s anorexic?’
‘Elis says she seems to be made from light.’
‘Fancy him knowing her. Hardly the same social circle.’
‘Arwel took him to meet the family. It seems he thought a great deal of Mr Elis.’
‘And what did Mr Elis think of Arwel?’
‘He’s as much stunned in his own way as Carol.’
‘I’m not surprised. His reputation could be on the line.’
‘He’s no fool,’ McKenna pointed out. ‘His live-in maid was in care, and I want her interviewed as soon as possible.’ He scribbled Mari’s telephone number on a sheet of paper andpushed it across the desk. ‘Be nice to her. She knows the Thomases, and Elis thinks she was sweet on Arwel.’
‘No word from HQ yet about interviewing Blodwel kids,’ Owen Griffiths told McKenna. ‘I’ll chivvy them along in a while. Social Services might be trying to hide something, but then again, they might just be following the rules about questioning minors, and confidentiality and what-have-you.’ The superintendent sighed. ‘Pain in the arse, like most rules.’
‘You’ll be retired and away from it all soon.’ McKenna smiled. ‘Honourably retired.’
‘Don’t be snide. Policing’s a dirty job at times, and some folk get their hands in the muck a bit too deep.’ Griffiths pushed his coffee mug round and round on the blotter. ‘My wife’s got the next five years organized to the minute. She’s afraid I’ll get bored.’
‘You’re more likely to wonder how you ever found time to work.’
‘You think so?’ Griffiths asked, his eyes bleak. ‘My job’s so much a part of my life I can’t imagine being without it, but there’s hellish pressure to take early retirement. HQ want to make room for others, and the family say I should get out before I’m too old to do anything but sit in a rocking-chair going gaga. You thought any more about applying for the vacancy? I have it on good authority it’d be nothing more than a formality.’
‘I’m not sure I want to return to uniform, promotion or not.’
‘You’ve been sure about nothing since you split with Denise. You’ve spent the last six months in limbo, waiting for God knows what.’
McKenna fidgeted, snapping his lighter off and on. ‘It’s hard making plans for
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