MURDER IN PEMBROKESHIRE an absolutely gripping crime mystery full of twists (Tyrone Swift Detective GRETTA MULROONEY (epub e reader TXT) 📖
- Author: GRETTA MULROONEY
Book online «MURDER IN PEMBROKESHIRE an absolutely gripping crime mystery full of twists (Tyrone Swift Detective GRETTA MULROONEY (epub e reader TXT) 📖». Author GRETTA MULROONEY
Swift ordered coffee and a club sandwich and paid for half an hour of internet use. ‘This is a fascinating place. There aren’t many internet cafés left these days. Do you get a lot of custom?’
‘Plenty. It’s a little goldmine. Tourists come in, of course, but lots of locals use us. Once you leave town, Wi-Fi is either slow or non-existent in lots of places. There’s always talk that it’ll be massively improved, but it never comes to anything — which is good for Blasus. Phones don’t always cut it if you want to do some online business, research or play games. Loads of students come here. And then there’s the social angle. We run “Learn to surf the web” classes for older people on Wednesday afternoons, and we have live music at weekends.’ Sam grinned enthusiastically. ‘I love working here. You get all sorts, all generations. How did you find your way to us?’
‘Gwyn at the bookshop directed me here.’
‘I’ll give her a free herbal tea next time she’s in. She envies our busy trade sometimes. I’m sorry for her. Most of her days seem slow, no matter what she does to attract customers. She’s worked so hard, trying to make the shop a success, put her heart and soul into it but . . . People buy books online, don’t they, even second-hand ones?’ He pointed to the computers. ‘Our speedy Wi-Fi probably does her out of a lot of trade but that’s the cut and thrust of business for you.’
There was nothing laid-back and woolly about Sam. Swift reckoned that the ’tache and long hair were part of his brand. ‘Did you know Afan Griffith?’
‘Of course. Afan was a regular in here. He always had tea and a cheese toastie. We heard what’s happened this morning. Truly terrible. Are you a family member?’
‘No, a friend of his.’
‘I’m ever so sorry. Afan was a quiet sort of man. He’d always lend our older customers a hand if the computer baffled them. Why would anyone want to kill him?’
‘Hopefully, the police will find out.’
Sam said, ‘If you want another coffee, it’s on the house.’
Swift was touched. ‘Thank you, that’s kind.’
‘Least I can do.’
The computers were grouped at the far end of the room and he stopped to examine the jukebox on his way. Rock-Ola was inscribed in red lettering across the top. There were about a hundred records inside and he put two pounds in the slot and selected ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ and ‘Sunny Afternoon’.
He checked his email and saw that Ruth had sent two. The first had more photos of Branna, this time at a fairground, sporting a yellow sun hat and perched in a cup and saucer. He replied, explaining what had happened at Tir Melys — he could imagine Ruth’s raised brows — and saying that he’d be in Wales longer than he’d expected. He added that there was no phone signal or Wi-Fi where he was staying — he pictured Ruth’s exasperated expression again — and said that he’d call around seven tomorrow evening. He informed Branna that the joke Welsh name for a microwave was ‘popty ping’. When he opened the second email, his mouth went dry.
Hi, Ty. I just wanted to say that Marcel and I are getting married next year, probably in the spring. We’ve been discussing where to live, and I’ve decided to move to Guernsey with Branna. We want to have children, and this is a lovely place to raise a family. I’ve checked the job market here, and I should be able to get a part-time lecturing post. I understand that you’ll find this difficult, but you can see Branna regularly and FaceTime etc. every week. It will be so good for her to have siblings and play on the beach after school. There are excellent facilities here for children with hearing problems. I wanted to give you the heads-up because Branna is very excited about the wedding and is already being bossy about what I should wear and the large role she wants to play. You can imagine. I hope that you can be happy for me.
He’d considered this possibility, like a train hurtling down the track towards him. It had caused him sleepless nights. How could he challenge Ruth’s decision? She had the right to lead her own life and she was Branna’s main parent. Her lecturing job was routine, with timetabled hours, whereas his days were unpredictable, with work often occupying his evenings. Ruth had grown away from him since meeting Marcel Vaudin and become more judgemental of him and his work. Marcel had a house on a beautiful island, above idyllic Fermain Bay. There was no contest between living there and North London, especially if you had one child and wanted more. He didn’t bother replying. There was nothing to say for now. FaceTime was fine, but on a screen, he couldn’t make Branna laugh by rubbing his chin on her neck or feel the warm weight of her when she climbed on his back. He saw a bleak future. He and Branna would have intermittent meetings, like ships that pass in the night.
His lunch arrived. The sandwich smelled delicious, but he couldn’t face it now. He shoved it to one side. He’d ask Sam to box it up and he could eat it this evening. The coffee was strong and bracing and he drank it gratefully, his hand unsteady.
He forced himself back to the other tasks he needed to complete. He forwarded Afan’s emails and his replies to DI Weber and checked that, other than email, Afan had no social media presence. He read through the
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