told him that? Evan wondered. At that moment Annabel reappeared, now dressed in a purple velour tracksuit.
“Right. Let’s go and find Mrs. Roberts. I am most sorry that you had to come back here again, but you did only ask about guests, didn’t you? I had no idea that staff might be concerned … .”
While she was talking, she started off at a great pace up the steps and into the main house. For someone who carried excess weight, she was certainly light on her feet and full of energy, Evan noticed. Maybe there was something to this hocus-pocus after all.
Mrs. Roberts was found in a small, austere office behind the kitchens. She had the typical Welshwoman’s face, one that has become the stereotype of the witch—long, thin, with pointed chin and high forehead. She got to her feet as they came in and she appraised Evan and Glynis critically.
“Mrs. Roberts is my wonderful housekeeper,” Annabel said. “She’s been with my family since the year dot. She can tell you anything you want to know. There’s not much that escapes her eagle eye around here, is there, Mrs. R?”
Mrs. Roberts’s face didn’t even crack into a smile. She nodded. “What is it you’re wanting?” she asked, looking directly at Evan.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” Annabel said. “I have guests arriving in half an hour. I don’t want to greet them looking sweaty and unkempt like this.” She went, leaving Mrs. Roberts still staring at Evan.
“Mrs. Roberts, I’m Detective Constable Glynis Davies.” Glynis stepped forward to let her know that she was the one conducting the investigation. “We’re here checking on a missing girl. An American college student. Her name is Rebecca Riesen and we understand from another member of your staff that she worked here earlier this spring.”
“Rebecca?” The elderly woman frowned. “Yes, I do remember an American girl. She begged to be hired and then walked out within the week, but then I hear Americans are flighty—like the mistress’s present husband. Wants one thing for his dinner and then changes his mind or leaves half of it. Flighty.” She glanced around then asked, lowering her voice, “Do you have Welsh?”
“Constable Evans does,” Glynis said. “I’m afraid mine is rusty.”
“Pity.”
“So what can you tell us about Rebecca?” Evan asked.
“Nothing much. She showed up in February, I think it was. She wanted a job and we were short a girl at the time. So many comings and goings these days. When Lady Annabel was growing up, we ran the place very nicely with a staff of four and a gardener. Now you never know who is who around here—masseurs and priestesses and God knows what. Change is never for the good, is it? And Lady Annabel never was one for making good decisions. Ever since she left her first husband, she’s taken up with a succession of rotters.” She smoothed down her dark skirt. “But getting back to this girl. She arrived. I put her to helping out in the kitchen and the laundry. General odd jobs, you know. Then it hadn’t been a week but one of the staff came and told me she’d upped and left. It seems the staff weren’t too unhappy to see her go—something of a God botherer, if you know what I mean. She didn’t like the un-Christian things that were going on here and felt she had to do some converting.”
“And you don’t know where she went?”
“No idea. She just told one of the staff she was leaving, she’d had enough, and then she was gone. Didn’t even stay long enough to collect her first week’s paycheck. But then Americans are supposed to be rich, aren’t they?”
“Is Mr. Wunderlich rich?” Evan asked.
“Famous TV star over there, so I’ve heard. But it’s not right for me to go talking about my employers, is it? I think I’ve told you all I can.”
“Bethan, yes. She might have been put to help Bethan. I’ll have her sent up here.”
“And the kitchens, you said. Could we go through there and ask some questions? She might have dropped a hint to someone where she was going when she left here.”
“I suppose so,” Mrs. Roberts walked ahead of them into the dark hallway and then into the kitchens. The main kitchen was decidedly part of an old manor house, but nothing inside it was old—stainless-steel countertops, the biggest and best stoves and refrigerators lined the walls. No expense had been spared here. Evan stood watching while Glynis questioned the chefs and kitchen helpers. Most of them were from Spain or Italy, spoke only broken English, and couldn’t even remember the girl.
When they got back to Mrs. Roberts’s office, Bethan arrived, breathless.
“I was down at Meditation,” she said. “I ran all the way up.”
Glynis nodded to Evan. “Bethan,” he said “you said you remembered the American girl whose picture I showed you. Rebecca Riesen.” He spoke in Welsh.
Bethan nodded.
“What can you tell me about her?”
“Very quiet, shy,” Bethan answered, hanging her head as if she were answering a teacher in school. “Didn’t say much. But nice enough. We folded linens together one day. That’s when we had a little chat. She said she came from California and I said it must be wonderful and she said yes it was. That was about it.”
“Did she say anything about Druids?” Evan asked. “Anything about being interested in Druids?”
“Druids? I’m sure she didn’t. She was very religious. She told me it upset her what was going on here. ‘A lot of pagans,’ she said.”
“So did she try and convert anybody?”
“Convert? How do you mean?” Bethan frowned as she looked up at Evan.
