MURDER IN PEMBROKESHIRE an absolutely gripping crime mystery full of twists (Tyrone Swift Detective by GRETTA MULROONEY (free reads .txt) 📗

The grapevine was humming. ‘It was me, yes. I wondered if I could come and see you? It’s good to talk to people who knew Afan, helps me form a picture of his life here.’

‘Well . . . If it will help you, of course. I’m free around half two this afternoon.’

Swift noted the address and directions and logged out of the computer. He heard a familiar voice and turned around. Bryn Price was at the counter, ordering a snack and talking in Welsh to Sam. Swift walked over, nodding hello. He ordered coffee and a ham sandwich and asked Price if they could have a quick chat.

‘I suppose so. I don’t charge for my time,’ Price said. He smelled beery, and his straining gut and double chin suggested he enjoyed his drink.

They moved to a table by the side window. Afan’s padlocked bike was leaning against it.

‘Good bike, that,’ Price said. ‘Afan bought it from a cousin of mine who shelled out a fortune for it and then lost interest in his new hobby. Afan said it rides well. It’s got good quality tyres. You won’t have had to adjust it much — you’re a similar build to him. In fact, you could give people the willies, if they see you on it. They might think Afan’s ghost is cycling around.’

‘If they do, I can reassure them that I’m flesh and blood. It’s very comfortable, rides smoothly. I just needed to alter the saddle tilt a bit.’

‘I’d say you’re fitter than Afan. He took plenty of exercise, but he didn’t have your physique. Do you work out?’

‘I have a boat and I row regularly.’

Price said, ‘That’ll be it. I get plenty of exercise working the land, but I never drop a pound because I like exercising my arm as well.’ He grinned and made a drinking motion. ‘Afan used to get bronchitis every winter. It would go on for weeks. I reckoned he’d have been better off living in a warm climate than in rain-soaked Wales.’

‘Did he ever tell you why he came back?’

‘I can’t remember that he did.’

It was the first time that Swift had seen Price close up in daylight. He had bloodshot eyes and a square head with close-cropped, sandy hair. The eyes might be bleary, but they missed nothing.

‘I saw you on the computer,’ Price continued. ‘I looked you up earlier. You didn’t tell us you’re a private detective. “Self-employed” indeed!’

‘It didn’t seem relevant,’ Swift hedged.

‘Not at first, I suppose, but you might have said something after you found Afan.’ Price smirked. ‘Maybe it suited you not to tell us. Private eye staying private and all that jazz.’

Sam arrived with their orders and Swift waited until he’d gone. Price slathered brown sauce over his sausage roll.

Swift said, ‘I assumed someone would check on me. It’s what people do these days.’

Price chewed a mouthful of food and said scathingly, ‘I suppose you’re playing detective now, snooping around at Tir Melys. I’ve seen how you absorb everything that’s going on. Maybe DI Weber has you on the payroll. A helping hand for the one she can’t use at present.’

Swift was startled and wondered if Price might have an inside contact in the police. It would be easy enough in a town like this. If Price had murdered Afan, he had the shrewdness to be elusive. Swift kept a poker face. ‘If only. I never play at being a detective, my work is too serious for that. Does my job bother you?’

‘Me? No. If you want to grub around in other people’s rubbish, that’s your choice. As long as you don’t step on my toes, I don’t care.’

‘I want to find out who killed my friend. I presume you want me to.’

‘Course. Afan was a decent man. Just because I don’t blub and go on about him like a drama queen doesn’t mean I’m not sad.’ He grinned again. ‘Speaking of drama queens, I saw you had a visit from Kat last night. Careful there, Ty. Once she’s got you in her sights, she’s hard to shake off and you’re easy on the eye. I reckon she’s got the hots for you.’

Swift ate some of his sandwich and stirred his coffee. He smiled back at Price. ‘I can take care of myself, but thanks for the warning. You all seem to keep a close eye on each other at Tir Melys. Kat saw who’d visited me, you knew she’d been to see me. You might as well have net curtains.’

Price winked. ‘You understand how it is. Tir Melys is like a tiny village. Sometimes it pays to notice what your neighbour’s up to.’

‘Have you anything particular in mind?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. I guessed that would interest you, see. I will own up to keeping an eye on Elinor. She can be a pain in the arse, but she has a good heart, and I don’t like her husband. Let’s just say that her eyes are red-rimmed too often. I might well punch Guy very hard one day. I’ve been near it a couple of times. It’d give me huge satisfaction.’

With his bulk, Price could do a lot of damage if he decided to get handy. ‘Guy’s provocative.’

‘He is, and a bloody snob. Thinks he’s God’s gift to us because he has a doctorate. He loves to correct anyone who uses the wrong word or phrase.’ He finished his food, burped and leaned back. ‘One of the things I valued about Afan was that he could handle Guy. I once saw Guy blush so red I thought he’d expire. He’d said something horrible to Elinor at supper and Afan gave him this killer stare and said, “None can be called deformed but the unkind”. I asked him about