Never Laugh as a Hearse Goes By: A Penny Brannigan Mystery by Elizabeth J. Duncan

of this simple scheme years ago? She needed more money herself just to have some kind of decent life and soon, to fund a comfortable retirement. And the extra money coming in would go a long way to helping her sister recover from her cancer operation. She might even be able to afford for her to go private, to get better care. Or hire a private nurse to look after her as she convalesced. And perhaps when Constance was recovered they might arrange a foreign holiday to someplace truly exotic. Not one of those cheap fortnights in Spain, all in, kind of thing. No, some place truly wonderful and unforgettably exotic … Istanbul or the Far East, perhaps. Just the two of them. It would all be so much better without her awful brother-in-law trailing along, drinking too much, complaining all day long about the heat and finding endless fault with the food and accommodation. Easing her sister’s burden was a good enough reason right there, she told herself. In the meantime, she’d at least be able to pay for someone to come in and do the cooking and cleaning until her sister was back on her feet.
    Minty looked at her own feet. She had always fancied a pair of those expensive shoes with the red soles that all the celebrities wore and if all went according to plan, it wouldn’t be long before she could afford a pair. She laughed lightly. What would the bishop say if she turned up for work one morning in a pair of those? She laughed a little more at the very thought of it. And then she realized he would probably take no notice. But at the very least she could treat herself to a nice new brown leather handbag. Or maybe two. Black goes with just about everything.
    She poured herself another drink, and made it a little stronger this time. She was excited and elated; sleep wouldn’t come easy.

 
    Eleven
    The next morning after breakfast the conference goers divided into two groups, with church officials heading to the Anwyl Room, a small conference room on the ground floor beside the Gladstone Room, where the opening reception had been held the night before. The spouses went upstairs to the book-lined Robinson Room where Minty and the bishop’s wife, who had arrived a few minutes early to check the room, were waiting to welcome them.
    “Do you have everything you need?” Minty asked Penny as the women filed into the room.
    “Yes, I think so,” said Penny. “I’ve got a few handouts and samples here. I won’t need the projector or anything like that. I’m all very low tech, me.”
    When the last of the participants was seated, Mrs. Blaine stepped out into the hall and Minty turned to Penny and said, “Oh, I almost forgot. The bishop has requested that you join us at the main table for lunch.” As Penny bent over her notes, Minty straightened a few books on the bookshelves behind the door before following the bishop’s wife into the hall, closing the door behind her.
    “Would you mind if we kept the door open?” Bronwyn asked Penny. “I love the natural light and it seems a shame to shut it out.”
    “No, of course not,” said Penny. “And aren’t the other two joining us? I’ll see what they’re up to.” She opened the door and stuck her head out. The corridor outside the Robinson Room led to the bedrooms to her left and behind the closed door on her right, to the staircase to the ground floor. The warden’s office was located at the far end of the corridor, on the other side of the staircase.
    A row of leaded windows with deep-set sills overlooking the Gladstone statue at the front of the building let in warm light that cast window-shaped patterns along the green-carpeted corridor. Pamela Blaine and Minty Russell, who were speaking in low tones as they leaned against a windowsill a little way down from the Robinson Room, seemed startled to see her and immediately turned and disappeared down the staircase. Penny returned to the room where the women were waiting for her presentation to begin.
    “That’s odd,” she