Stephen lowers the magazine. ‘Rather a morbid article for a village magazine, wouldn’t you say?’
The detective nods. ‘Indeed.’
‘I wonder who wrote it and why they’d want to remain anonymous.’
‘Your guess is as good as mine, but it appears that someone on the village council doesn’t share Frank Hammel’s views.’
‘You said that there was talk during the village meeting about its destruction?’
The detective nods. ‘Yes, but the majority of the village want to see it remain. Frank agreed.’
‘Who were the ones who wanted to see it gone?’
Detective Williams is silent for a moment. ‘No one in particular stood out.’
‘Hmm.’
Stephen continues to search through the magazine, jotting down the names of the village committee, those in charge of running all the functions, and those in charge when it comes to land planning and building regulations. It even mentions the best person to ask for help with gardening, extensions and the local kids club, which runs on Saturday and Wednesday afternoons.
‘Hmm,’ says Stephen again, writing down the last name on the village committee list.
‘Found anything else interesting, Mr Mallow?’ asks Detective Williams, glancing behind him from tending the stove.
‘Nothing yet, but it seems to me that the village committee members hold a lot of power in this village. Nothing goes ahead without their say so. Is that normal for a small Welsh village such as this?’
‘Hard to say. We didn’t have anything like that in Cherry Hollow, unless you count the weekly coffee meeting inthe village hall. But yes, I got the feeling that Frank Hammel was the guy in charge when I attended the meeting last night.’
‘It appears that the village committee members go back some way. The Hammel family have been members as far back as the 1900s and so have the Davies family. Do you know of anyone by the name of Davies in the village?’
‘The butcher’s shop is called Davies and Son.’
Stephen writes a note next to the name. ‘So, that would mean that John Hammel would have been a member back in 1925.’
‘I highly doubt that. He was just a kid. Twenty, I believe.’
‘His father then, perhaps?’
‘A likely scenario. Would you care for another whisky?’
‘Please.’
Stephen ignores the detective while he refills his glass with ice and whisky and turns to the laptop, setting the magazine aside for now. He decides to turn his attention to Sophia Hammel and see what he can find out about her and her possible disappearance ten years ago.
It doesn’t take him more than ten minutes before he runs into a problem. Quite a serious one.
‘It seems Sophia Hammel doesn’t exist on any social media sites. Not in the past ten years, anyway,’ he tells the detective, who stops cooking and listens as he continues. ‘Shehas an old Facebook account that hasn’t been updated in ten years, almost to the day.’
He doesn’t say anything else, and the detective doesn’t press him further. Often, Stephen likes to speak his thoughts out loud, making them easier to decipher and organise.
‘Hmm,’ he says a few minutes later. ‘It would be helpful ifThe Bethgelert Oraclepublished their articles online, but it seems they like to keep things very private. Too private. Would a small village like this hold physical records of old magazines they've published over the years?’
The detective shakes his head. ‘Hard to say, but I can ask Karen next time I see her.’
Stephen doesn’t ask who Karen is. He doesn’t need to know the details, but if she can possibly help them in locating older copies of the magazine from around the time that Sophia Hammel supposedly went missing, then it would be very useful indeed.
‘Ah,’ he says. ‘Here’s something.’ He leans closer to the screen. ‘Apparently, Bethgelert made one of the national papers in January of 2015. Well, well, well … looks like the village committee weren’t able to keep everything offline after all.’
Detective Williams reads over his shoulder.
