by Helena Dixon
‘So, there isn’t anyone that you can think of who might be worth keeping an eye on?’
Kitty caught her lower lip between her teeth. She hesitated for a moment before speaking. ‘There is this one man. I just bumped into him actually, outside the front entrance. He hasn’t done or said anything that makes me think there’s anything wrong but…’
‘But?’ Matt asked when she hesitated again.
‘He makes me feel uncomfortable and I don’t know why. He has an unusual accent, although he registered with an English name and address. I suppose he could be ex-colonial.’
Matt could tell from the delicate pink flush shading her cheeks and the scrunching of her shoulders that the conversation made Kitty feel awkward.
‘I know it’s not nice to think that one of your guests might be responsible, but I have to look at the possibilities. That’s why your grandmother employed me. Tell me which guest you mean.’
Kitty sighed and pulled out the visitors’ register. In a few seconds she beckoned Matt to come around to her side of the desk and view the page.
‘This is the man. Mr Brian Smith from Essex, room twenty-one on the second floor.’
He stood behind her to peer at the details. ‘Can you make me a copy of the register entry?’ He was close enough to smell the fresh soapy scent on her skin and to notice the tiny mole below her earlobe. Matt forced his attention back to the screen and tried not to think about his proximity to Kitty or why she ruffled his senses so much. He hadn’t thought about a woman this way for a long time, not since Edith.
He straightened and took a tiny step back, only to bang his heel against the office wall. ‘Smith is not the most original choice for a surname,’ he commented.
‘Maybe not, but it could be his real name.’ Kitty removed the top from her fountain pen and copied the details onto a fresh sheet of paper.
Matt barely waited for her to finish blotting it before taking it from the desk. He knew she was right; Smith might well be the man’s real name. It was one of the most common surnames in England. He moved away from the back of her desk to stand near the door. It was too disturbing to his peace of mind to spend much time alone with Kitty in a small space. Perhaps that was the problem; he disliked small spaces, something else that was a legacy of the war.
‘What do you plan on doing with that?’ Kitty asked, looking at the copy of the register entry that he held.
‘I’m going to do a little probing and see what I can find out.’
Kitty looked alarmed. Matt spoke quickly before she could change her mind and retrieve the information she’d given him.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be discreet,’ He didn’t tell her that not all his investigative methods were strictly legal. Some of his sources of information were definitely of the shadier kind and somehow he didn’t think Kitty would approve. ‘He’ll never know, and if he turns out to be on the level then it’ll put your mind at ease. If it makes you feel any better, remember that someone caused you to ruin a pair of stockings yesterday by pushing you in front of a coal truck.’
‘I can’t help thinking this is all a bit of a fuss over nothing. We have no real proof that anyone tried to shove me in front of that truck and there might be some explanation for the things being moved in my room.’ Her eyes held an anguished plea for him to agree with her.
‘We’ve already talked about this, Kitty. Your grandmother hired me to look after the security of the hotel. You’ve reported something unusual and I have to try to get to the bottom of it.’ He wished he could be completely honest with her about the messages her grandmother had received but he had given his word that he would say nothing. He was already starting to regret that promise.
Kitty blew out a breath and slumped back in her chair as soon as Matt left the room. He was as bad as her grandmother for treating her like a child and not giving her the full picture, and she knew from her gut that he wasn’t telling her everything. Although what on earth could be going on in a sleepy old-fashioned hotel like the Dolphin was beyond her comprehension.
She stayed where she was for a moment, spinning herself gently from side to side in her wood and leather office chair. Matt wasn’t the only person who could do some investigating. Maybe she ought to do some snooping herself, and her first port of call would be to try and find out a bit more about Mr Matthew Bryant and why Grams had hired him.
Kitty decided to leave the rest of the staff rotas until later. It wasn’t as if she had any plans for the evening, so she could always finish them then. Instead, she opened her desk drawer and hunted around for the spare key to her grandmother’s suite. It was time she went and did some research of her own.
A sliver of guilt stilled her hand as she turned the key in the lock to her grandmother’s suite. Perhaps she should leave well alone and go back to sorting out the paperwork in her office. She shook the thought away, squared her shoulders and entered the suite. The salon seemed empty without her grandmother’s small but formidable presence. Although her grandmother had done away with many of the frills and furbelows, the room still had a distinctive Edwardian look, with chintzy chairs and heavy drapes framing the windows. The ticking of the handsome silver gilt carriage clock on the mantlepiece appeared to reproach her presence.
She locked the door behind her and crossed the room to the small rosewood writing bureau where her grandmother kept all her private and business papers. Kitty slid the palm of her hand along the side of the bureau, feeling for a small notch in the wood. She pressed firmly and a tiny hidden drawer slid silently open to reveal the spare key.
Kitty took the key and closed the drawer before unlocking the front of the bureau. Inside the cabinet was a neat arrangement of drawers and pigeonholes where her grandmother stored her documents. Moving swiftly Kitty began to sift through the paperwork, looking for Matt’s contract, or any correspondence he had had with Grams. She hated herself for snooping but couldn’t bring herself to stop. All her life secrets had been kept from her. Secrets about her mother, her father, about her life before she came to the Dolphin, and now, it seemed, secrets about what was going on at the hotel and why Matt was really there.
Nothing. There was nothing there. Frustrated, Kitty closed and secured the bureau before returning the key to its hiding place. She stood, ready to leave and return to her office, when she heard someone at the door.
Before she had time to think things through, Kitty stepped silently across the salon and hid in her grandmother’s bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar to peer through the gap. Even as she moved, she berated herself for being stupid. She had every right to be in her grandmother’s room. Regardless, her instinct told her that whoever else wanted to enter the suite had no right to be there and Kitty intended to find out who it was and what they wanted.
Chapter Five
She froze in place, wedged in a narrow space between the sink and the doorframe, as the intruder unlocked the door and entered the room. To her frustration, she discovered that her view through the gap between the door and frame was more limited than she’d hoped. She tried to control her breathing, her heart thumping in her chest as she heard the familiar sounds of drawers being opened and closed.
It was hard to know what the burglar might be looking for. Kitty was certain that this wasn’t some random break-in. Thank goodness she had relocked the bureau. From the sounds of papers being shuffled, items being moved, and the earlier systematic search of her own room, someone was looking for something they believed either she or her grandmother had. What that something could be, she had no idea.
Cautiously, Kitty shifted her position, glad she had opted for her understated pale grey dress and navy cardigan that morning instead of her favourite cherry-red print. She tried to catch a glimpse of whoever was in the room, hoping she was inconspicuous in her hiding place. She toyed with the idea of bursting out and confronting whoever was out there. Only the terrifying memory of her life flashing before her when she’d almost been flattened by the lorry prevented her
. Whoever the mystery burglar was, they could be dangerous; they had obviously gone to a lot of trouble to get hold of keys and to sneak around the rooms.
The sound of footfall on the Turkish carpet caught her attention and she held her breath as the intruder drew nearer to her hiding place behind the door. She released the air from her lungs slowly as he headed instead towards her grandmother’s bedroom. The palms of her hands were sweaty with fear and she rubbed them on the front of her skirt to dry them. What if he tried to get into the bathroom next?
The intruder was a man, she was sure. The sounds of his breathing and a muffled curse when his search of the lounge had proved fruitless had told her that. She glanced around the bathroom. There was nowhere to hide and a quick look along the marble countertop next to the sink didn’t reveal anything useful that she could use as a weapon either.
The sound of her grandmother’s telephone ringing made her jump and her heart rate leapt in momentary panic. She clutched at her blouse and held her breath, only to exhale slowly when the ringing stopped. Her knees trembled when she realised the telephone had rung once and stopped, then rung again immediately afterwards.
The intruder had responded to the code and answered the call. Kitty strained to try and hear the conversation going on in the next room. Whoever had called him on the internal line had to be a staff member as all external calls went through reception.
‘Nothing. The place is empty. I’ve checked it all except the bureau, it was locked.’ His voice sounded closer and Kitty shrank back against the cold, white tiles of the bathroom wall.
‘Yes, I looked there, I told you. No, nothing in the bedroom.’
She hardly dared breathe. The man was right outside the bathroom door. Outside, in the corridor, she heard the distant rumble of the elevator. The intruder cursed.
‘I have to go. The maids are coming.’
A few seconds later Kitty heard the door of her grandmother’s suite click. She waited for a minute in case the man should return. Once she was certain the coast was clear she stumbled into the lounge and sank down on the sofa. Her hands and legs trembled, and her thoughts were jumbled with fear and relief.
She picked up the receiver and dialled the extension to reception.
To her dismay her voice wobbled slightly when the receptionist answered. ‘Please ask Mr Bryant to come up to my grandmother’s suite. It’s urgent.’ She hoped it wasn’t the receptionist who had rung earlier.
She barely had time to replace the handset when Matt let himself into the suite.
‘Kitty? What’s happened? I was in the lobby when you rang down.’ He was out of breath as he hurried straight to her side; his expression anxious.
She managed to give him a brief report on what she’d seen and heard.
‘Did you manage to see anything at all that could identify who the man might be?’
Kitty shook her head. She felt calmer now Matt was with her. For some reason, since her encounter with the lorry, she seemed to trust him instinctually. ‘I couldn’t see anything through the crack in the door. He sounded like an older man, though.’
‘Anything else you could tell from his voice?’ Matt asked.
She frowned in concentration. ‘I got the impression that he might be local. He had a very faint accent.’
Matt rubbed his chin. ‘He was clearly acting under orders from someone, whoever he might be. What on earth are they looking for and why here?’
His question echoed her own thoughts. ‘It makes no sense.’
‘Would you recognise his voice again if you heard it?’
Kitty sucked in a breath. ‘I don’t know. I think so, but I can’t be sure. He only spoke a few words.’
‘Is he a guest here?’
She had been trying to think if his voice had been familiar ever since Matt had joined her. ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. But who could have called him on the telephone? It has to be a staff member to know he was in here, and the internal telephone number. There are only a few places within the hotel with a telephone extension. There is one in reception, my office, in the kitchen, my bedroom, Grams’ suite and the honeymoon suite.’ She knew most of the guests and she was almost positive she would have known if she’d heard the intruder’s voice before. It was more disturbing that someone she employed could be involved.
‘Okay. I’ll need to get a staff list from you, and we’ll see if we can work out who it might be. It wasn’t reception as I was there, and the phone wasn’t used. The most likely extensions would be the kitchen or the honeymoon suite.’ Matt sounded frustrated as he raked his hand through his hair, making the ends spike up like a disgruntled hedgehog.
‘The kitchen is busy this time of day so someone would notice the telephone being used. The honeymoon suite is empty as Miss Delaware will be using it for her residency.’
‘Then a member of staff who knows that suite is vacant is the most likely option. One of the maids, perhaps?’
‘Did Grams say anything to you about this before she left?’ Kitty wondered where the urge to smooth down Matt’s hair had come from. She rested her hands in her lap and waited for his response. She was sure her grandmother must have had some inkling that something odd was going on. Why else would she have hired Matt? The story about thefts in the town had never really sounded very convincing.
He slumped back against the sofa, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her face. Kitty could almost hear the cogs turning in his mind as if he were weighing up how much he should tell her.
‘Your grandmother gave me some strange notes she’d received.’ His gaze was wary.
‘I don’t understand. What kind of notes? What did they say?’ Kitty frowned. The conversation had taken a surreal turn and she began to feel as if she were starring in some cheap thriller.
For answer he dug into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. ‘This is one of the letters. They all said much the same thing.’
She scanned the note, struggling to take in what was happening. ‘“Give back what is not yours to keep.” This is bizarre, how can anyone respond to this? Do the police know about these notes?’
‘Yes. There doesn’t seem to be enough for them to do anything; cheap paper, common type, no distinguishing features, unsigned and your grandmother destroyed the envelopes. She says they were typed with a local postmark. The police arranged extra patrols after your grandmother pulled a few strings with the chief constable, but that was all they could offer.’
He noticed that Kitty didn’t seem surprised that her grandmother had used her influence to get extra patrols.
‘I don’t understand. What on earth could Grams or I possibly have that would interest a criminal gang? I assume this must be the work of more than one person given what I heard when I was in Grams’ bathroom.’ She stared at the paper in her hand as if she hoped it would tell her the answer.
‘I’m not sure. I wondered if perhaps your grandmother’s friends might have some ideas?’
Kitty lifted her head to look at him. Her clear grey-blue eyes met his gaze.
‘I don’t know. I suppose they might have. The gels, as Grams calls them, have been her friends for years. If anyone knows anything, I suppose they might.’
Matt was satisfied from the frankness of Kitty’s countenance that whatever lay behind the mystery, she wasn’t privy to it.
‘Is there any one of them she is especially close to? One she may have confided in more than the others?’ he asked.
Kitty sighed. ‘Mrs Craven is probably the one who would know more than the others.’
He picked up the hesitancy in her voice. ‘But you don’t like her? I believe I have met her; she was the one wearing the dead animal?’
She laughed and shook her head, a stray tendril of her soft blonde hair falling onto her cheek. ‘Yes, to the fox stole, and no, I don’t like her particularly. She’s an awful old snob and she always treats me as if I’m some kind of burden to Grams. She didn’t like my mother either.’ A rosy pink blus
h swept across her pale face.
Again, there was the mention of Kitty’s missing mother. He remembered the awkward silence that had fallen before at his interview with her grandmother and her friends when Kitty’s mother had been mentioned.
Maybe she was the key to this mystery. ‘Your grandmother mentioned your mother in connection with the letters.’
‘My mother? I suppose it could be someone being malicious or trying some kind of con trick. There is still a reward for information.’
‘What about your father?’
A wry smile curved the corners of her mouth. ‘My father had gone before my mother came back to the Dolphin with me. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.’
He had no reason to disbelieve her. ‘Do you have a telephone number for Mrs Craven?’
She recited the number and he added it to the list in his notebook. ‘I think I’ll call her and see if I can go and see her to ask a few questions.’
‘When Grams rings next I’ll see if there’s anything else she can tell me.’ Kitty hesitated. ‘I don’t want to worry her, though. She has enough on her plate with Livvy, and although she may seem like a tough old bird, she isn’t.’ Her eyes held an unspoken plea.
‘I know. Just find out what you can without alarming her. I wasn’t supposed to tell you any of this.’ He couldn’t help flashing Kitty a small smile, hoping to reassure her.
She smiled back at him. ‘I’ll be tactful.’
He left Kitty to finish her afternoon’s work. His mind was busy filing and sorting all the odd scraps of information. He doubted if Kitty would get much from her grandmother when she called. Although he was certain the old lady hadn’t told him everything she knew, he wasn’t sure if she had the whole picture. If she did know who was behind the threats and why, then she wouldn’t have employed him. His brief hadn’t merely been to protect Kitty but to uncover the mystery.