Authors: Rhys Bowen
Evans to Betsy (25 page)
“That will serve you right for going hiking without me.” He grinned, then grew serious again. “Thank heavens they found that out. I was so worried.” He climbed in beside her. “I thought all kinds of things, ranging from terminal illnesses to Betsy poisoning you.”
“Betsy poisoning me?” She looked amused. “Well, I suppose she is resourceful.”
“You have no idea how resourceful,” Evan said and told her of the last few days.
“She sounds like an ideal policeman’s wife,” Bronwen said. “Maybe you’d better marry her instead.”
“Oh, no.” He smiled at her. “I couldn’t risk having a psychic wife. She’d be able to spy on me when I was out interviewing beautiful women and—ow, don’t hit me, I’m wounded!”
Bronwen laughed as Evan swung the car up the mountain pass that led home.
The next week a large banner appeared outside the Red Dragon. “Grand Celebration of Kitchen Reopening. Welcome Back Betsy Party. Free beer to all locals on Friday Night.”
“Harry must be very glad to get her back,” Roberts-the-Pump commented to Evan, “to make that old skinflint give away more than one pint of beer.”
“Perhaps it’s South Wales beer,” Evans-the-Meat commented, “and he can’t find a way to get rid of it!”
Evan was about to continue up the street on his evening beat when he heard his name and Mrs. Powell-Jones came running toward him. “Good news, Constable Evans,” she called. “That heathen establishment has been closed down. I read it in the paper. We have taken on the devil and we have won.” She beamed at him. “Now do you believe in the power of the righteous?”
She strode up the middle of the street, back toward Capel Beulah, singing, “Fight the good fight with all thy might.” at the top of her voice. Suddenly there was a loud pop-popping noise and a motorbike came speeding down the hill at great speed, with Evans-the-Post hanging on for dear life.
“Out of the way!” he yelled.
Mrs. Powell-Jones gave a high-pitched scream that echoed from the hilltops as she flung herself to one side and the bike passed her by inches.
Cannwyll Corff
—candle of death, pronounced
canwheel corf.
—candle of death, pronounced
canwheel corf.
Cwm Rhondda
—the Rhondda Valley, place and title of hymn tune. Pronounced
Coom Rontha.
—the Rhondda Valley, place and title of hymn tune. Pronounced
Coom Rontha.
Derin Corff
—bird of death, pronounced as written.
—bird of death, pronounced as written.
Diolch yn fawr—
thank you very much. Pronounced
dee-olch en vower.
thank you very much. Pronounced
dee-olch en vower.
Escob annwyl—
literally, “dear bishop.” Good heavens! Pronounced
escobe ann-wheel.
literally, “dear bishop.” Good heavens! Pronounced
escobe ann-wheel.
Iyched da
—
good health, cheers, pronounced
yachy dah.
—
good health, cheers, pronounced
yachy dah.
Llanfair
—name of Welsh town, pronounced
Chlan-veyer.
—name of Welsh town, pronounced
Chlan-veyer.
Maredudd ap
Owain
—pronounced like the modern spelling of the name, Meredith Bowen.
Owain
—pronounced like the modern spelling of the name, Meredith Bowen.
Nain
—grandmother, pronounced
nine
.
—grandmother, pronounced
nine
.
Or gore
—all right. Pronounced
or goray.
—all right. Pronounced
or goray.
Plisman
—Welsh spelling of
policeman.
—Welsh spelling of
policeman.
Ysgol gyfun
—Welsh secondary school. Pronounced
u-skol guffin.
—Welsh secondary school. Pronounced
u-skol guffin.
Note: There are many towns in Wales called Llanfair, including the town with the longest name in Britain. My Llanfair is fictitious. I chose the name because it is so generic.
This book is dedicated to my many friends in the mystery community, with special thanks, for their support and encouragement, to certain ladies known to drink a lot of tea, tell dubious jokes, wear purple thingies, and give great hugs.And with thanks, as always, to John, Clare, and Jane—my wonderful family critique group.
The spectacular property called Portmerion, which was the inspiration for the Sacred Grove in this book, has been many things during its existence, ranging from private home to set for the BBC’s cult classicThe Prisoner
to fabulous hotel. It has never been, and probably never will be, a New Age center or Druid temple.
The book
The Way of the Druid
only exists in my imagination. The information it contains was gleaned from various books and Web sites on Druidism, to which Rhiannon’s own brand of creativity has been added. It is therefore not to be considered accurate.
The Way of the Druid
only exists in my imagination. The information it contains was gleaned from various books and Web sites on Druidism, to which Rhiannon’s own brand of creativity has been added. It is therefore not to be considered accurate.
The Constable Evans Mysteries
Evan Can Wait
Evan and Elle
Evan Help Us
Evans Above
Evanly Choirs
Evan and Elle
Evan Help Us
Evans Above
Evanly Choirs
The Molly Murphy Mysteries
Murphy’s Law
EVANS TO BETSY. Copyright © 2002 by Rhys Bowen. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
eISBN 9781429968201
First eBook Edition : April 2011
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