Murder at the Dolphin Hotel

by Helena Dixon

  Matt shifted his weight in the chair, causing it to creak in protest. ‘It’s possible; a falling out amongst thieves, perhaps. I don’t know if he’s connected to the letters, or what he’s doing here. You say he requested that particular room when he booked in?’

  She nodded. ‘I noticed it when I checked the booking notes this afternoon. He requested that room and said he’d be staying until this Saturday, but that he might extend his stay if his business went on for longer than he thought. He paid up front, in cash.’ She shivered as she wondered what his business might be if it involved fake identities.

  ‘So far he’s not actually done anything illegal. Okay, so he has some fake passports and papers, but he hasn’t tried to use them, at least not here, and if we hadn’t been poking around inside his toilet cistern, we wouldn’t have been any the wiser.’ Matt picked up the pencil and drummed the tip against his teeth.

  Kitty placed her head in her hands; she couldn’t work out Matt’s logic. ‘I’m scared, Matt. Who is this man? We need to go to the police; clearly he doesn’t have multiple fake passports hidden in a toilet cistern for any good purpose. Then there’s the murder. It could have been him; he could be a murderer.’

  ‘Okay, I know you’re right. I just wish we could find out if the letters your grandmother received and our Mr Smith have a connection. We’d better come up with an excuse for what I was doing looking in the toilet cistern too.’

  ‘What did make you look in there?’ Kitty asked. It wasn’t something she would have thought of doing and she wondered what Matt had done before his arrival at the Dolphin.

  ‘Lucky hunch. Watched too many spy films when I was younger.’ He moved his shoulders upwards in a nonchalant gesture.

  Before she could ask him anything else, he was on the telephone to the local police. Kitty decided she would ask her grandmother a few things about Matt during her next telephone call. He appeared very knowledgeable about some very strange subjects.

  Matt had seen the questions in Kitty’s eyes and knew he hadn’t fooled her. Fortunately, she was called away to the reception desk while he dealt with reporting their find to the police. He had to hope they wouldn’t steam in mob-handed, otherwise Mr Smith, or whatever his real name was, would clam up. Or, even worse, disappear.

  Kitty already appeared to be more concerned about the hotel’s reputation and the possibility of spreading alarm to her other guests by having a patrol car and uniformed officers come to the Dolphin than what Mr Smith might be up to.

  Fortunately, Mr Smith was intercepted in a side street as he was returning that evening, so the police presence at the hotel was minimalised. Matt was kept busy providing a statement to say what he had found in the room and Mr Smith and his bogus documents were spirited away to the police station.

  Kitty tracked Matt down in the kitchen as soon as her shift on the reception desk had finished. He hurriedly finished off the last mouthful of the gammon and eggs that he’d persuaded the chef to cook for him.

  ‘Well?’ She caught hold of his arm and tugged him into a nearby store cupboard full of dried goods and mysterious jars. ‘What happened? What did the police say?’ She kept her voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard by the kitchen staff. ‘Who is Mr Smith? Do you know if he’s connected with the letters, or the murder?’ Questions tumbled from her lips faster than he could answer.

  ‘Whoa, they haven’t said anything to me. They need to question the man first and he might not tell them anything. Obviously, they are going to see if there’s any connection between him and the Dutch man.’

  Her grip tightened. ‘What if they let him out? We have all the rest of his clothes and things here. He still has his room. He could be very upset and clearly he may be dangerous.’

  Matt looked pointedly at where her hand had scrunched up the sleeve of his jacket. ‘Well that’s easily dealt with. Ask the maids to pack all his things into his case and lock it in one of the storerooms. If and when he needs to collect it, we can arrange for it to be dropped off. The chances are the police will want to go through his things anyway. He’s not going to come back to the Dolphin.’

  Kitty’s grasp relaxed. ‘I’m just glad Grams isn’t here; she’d be horrified by all of this. I don’t know what I’m going to tell her about Mrs Craven, she’s going to be very upset. They’ve been friends for years.’

  ‘I suggest not telling her anything just yet.’ Unbeknown to Kitty, he would brief her grandmother himself later. He extricated himself and rubbed his arm where she’d been holding on to him.

  She didn’t appear to notice. ‘I called the hospital earlier too, but they wouldn’t even tell me if Mrs Craven was conscious.’ She wrapped her arms across her body as if suddenly chilly even though the interior of the storeroom was warm and humid. Matt realised his mouth was dry and he ran the tip of his tongue across his lips trying to unglue them.

  The faint rose scent of her perfume teased his senses and the pupils of her eyes were wide and dark with anxiety. A dull roaring noise started in his ears and the air around him closed in, choking him. Perspiration trickled down his spine and he had to use every inch of his iron self-control to stay on his feet. The walls of the storeroom appeared to move in towards him and, before he could stop himself, he pushed past Kitty and hurried out of the kitchen.

  He pushed his way past the ovens and out of the back door before finishing up leaning against the wall next to the metal waste bins. He slumped against the brickwork and tried to gulp down the cooler outdoor air. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the dizziness that had taken over his body.

  ‘Matt? Matt, where are you? Are you okay?’ He heard a woman’s voice call from the direction of the doorway.

  He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of the images that had crowded into his head when he’d been in the storeroom. Images that sometimes haunted him in his sleep. That dreadful feeling of being suffocated and unable to breathe.

  ‘Matt.’ Someone touched his arm.

  ‘Edith?’ Her name slipped out before he could stop himself. The name he never said aloud any more.

  ‘Who’s Edith?’

  He opened his eyes to see Kitty standing next to him, her slender fingers touching his arm, concern and bewilderment etched into her delicate features.

  ‘Matt, what happened? You look terrible. Who’s Edith?’

  He sucked in another breath and straightened himself back up. ‘Nothing. Nothing, it’s all right. I just felt a little dizzy. Confined spaces.’

  He could tell from the frown on her forehead and the look in her eyes that she wasn’t buying into his lame excuse. Why had he mentioned his wife’s name?

  ‘Let’s go for a walk; you look as if you could use some fresher air.’ She wrinkled her small nose in the direction of the bins, and he allowed her to steer him round the side of the hotel towards the river.

  As they rounded the side of the building, the breeze from the water cooled his skin and his heart began to settle back into its normal rhythm. ‘Look, I’m fine, really. I just can’t be in enclosed spaces.’ He paused as they neared the locked side gate. ‘Truly, I just needed to get some fresh air.’

  Something that sounded like a snort came from Kitty as she pulled out the master keys and selected the one for the padlock. ‘Yeah, right.’

  He watched as she undid the lock. ‘Oh.’ She sighed as she pulled the key free.

  ‘What’s that?’ He caught hold of her hand so he could take a closer look.

  ‘Looks like oil, all over my fingers. I guess Mickey must have greased the lock.’ Kitty shrugged and pulled out a handkerchief to clean her hand.

  ‘Who uses this gate?’

  ‘Not many people. All the deliveries come around the other side through the vehicle entrance. This gate is really just an emergency and alternative route.’

  He followed her through to the other side and snapped the padlock closed shut again behind them. ‘I’ll check with Mickey tomorrow to see if he has done anything to the padlock recently
and I think a new lock might be in order.’

  Matt fell into step beside her as they made their way to the paved path running along the embankment next to the river. He matched his longer stride to her shorter steps as the wind ruffled his hair and cooled his skin. ‘I’m sorry about earlier. I’m not good in confined spaces.’

  She halted at the short stretch of railings near the upper ferry stop. ‘I gathered.’ She leaned her arms on the rails and looked out across the water.

  Matt copied her actions, watching as a boat rowed by six oarsmen skimmed lightly over the river surface. ‘It’s a bit of a hangover from the war. Sometimes it takes me by surprise.’

  ‘The war affected so many people, I suppose we all forget as time moves on and memories fade. It’s so peaceful here now this evening it’s hard to believe that there’s all this madness going on. Threatening anonymous letters, fake passports, murder and old ladies being bashed over the head.’ Kitty’s voice wobbled. ‘We need to look for more clues.’

  ‘The police might tell us something once they uncover Mr Smith’s real identity. Then we can try and see if he’s connected with the letters or what happened to Mrs Craven. And of course if Mrs Craven regains consciousness, she might be able to tell us what happened.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Kitty picked at a piece of paint flaking off the railing. ‘Perhaps the key to all this really is back in the past, something to do with what happened in the war. What do you think, Matt? Is it connected to my mother’s disappearance back then?’

  Chapter Eight

  There was a moment’s silence before Matt replied. ‘Honestly, I don’t know if it’s connected to your mother’s disappearance. I believe it’s what your grandmother may think.’

  Kitty stared at the river and watched as the rowing boat began to battle its way back upstream against the current. ‘Grams spent a lot of time and money looking for my mother. She placed advertisements in the newspapers, offered a reward for information. All the trails and leads we had were dead ends. Every now and again there would be something that would give us fresh hope, but…’ her voice tailed away as she blinked back the tears that threatened to escape down her cheeks.

  ‘Before your grandmother left for Scotland, she said the last investigator she hired claimed to have found some kind of proof that your mother was dead.’ Matt’s tone was gentle.

  Kitty fumbled in her pocket for her handkerchief. ‘There wasn’t any proof as such, but he said we needed to accept that it was the most likely outcome from all the leads he’d followed up. I think it was more the absence of any evidence of her being still alive. When she went missing the war was on, there was bombing, people were moving about. They know she bought a ticket to London but think she left the train earlier. Something must have made her change her plans. There were letters from people who claimed to have seen her in all kinds of places, but nothing could be substantiated.’ She folded the cloth to avoid the oil from earlier and patted the skin dry under her eyes, trying not to make her eyes red.

  ‘Do you have copies of all the searches?’

  She nodded. ‘Of course. They began when I was very young. My mother wasn’t… well, she wasn’t very conventional. She was involved in the women’s suffrage movement. She had travelled a lot, kept company with actors and musicians, arty people. She was quite talented herself; I think. That’s why Mrs Craven and some of the other old biddies didn’t like her. It didn’t help that my father couldn’t be found, although Grams didn’t really look for him. She said he was something of a rogue.’ Kitty tucked the handkerchief back in her pocket. ‘The files are stored in the hotel safe. Come on, I’ll dig them out for you.’

  They crossed the road side-by-side. Kitty was glad that Matt seemed to be more himself now. She wondered if anything else had made him behave so strangely in the kitchen and she longed to know who Edith was, and why he didn’t want to talk about her.

  ‘I don’t remember seeing any files when your grandmother showed me the safe.’ Matt frowned as he waited for her to enter the hotel ahead of him.

  Kitty laughed. ‘That’s because she showed you the new safe. That’s the one we store all the business things and guests’ valuables in. I meant the old hotel safe. Grams keeps it for her own personal use. No one knows about it.’

  He followed her to the elevator. ‘I’m assuming it’s in her suite?’

  She nodded. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Miss Kitty!’ The evening receptionist called her as she waited for the elevator to return. ‘I’ve taken your grandmother’s post up to her salon.’

  ‘Oh, thank you.’ She’d forgotten to check the pigeonhole where all her grandmother’s personal post was placed. It must have been quite full for Mary to have taken it upstairs.

  The frown lines on Matt’s face had deepened as he entered the elevator, pulling the gate closed behind them and pressing the brass button for the next floor. ‘You know, far too many people have easy access to wander in and out of yours and your grandmother’s private rooms.’

  ‘Most of our staff have worked here for years. Nearly all of them have lived locally for all of their lives and only a few staff are permitted to enter the rooms.’ All of Kitty’s most vivid memories were of living in the hotel, so she had never thought much about it. It had always been normal to consider the staff as a kind of extended family. Even as she denied what he’d said, she had a horrible feeling that he might have a point. Times had changed and perhaps the way they had always lived at the Dolphin needed to change too. Whoever had alerted the man in her grandmother’s rooms had to be a staff member. The Mr Smith incident had also shaken her confidence.

  ‘So, you would know exactly who could get into your room and your grandmother’s suite?’ Matt leaned on the wall of the elevator as they headed upstairs.

  ‘Yes. Well, mostly. Didn’t we already have a similar discussion about this when I told you my room had been searched?’ Kitty strode out of the elevator as soon as the door opened and Matt slid back the gate.

  She still found it hard to believe that the mysterious Mr Smith and the anonymous letters could have anything to do with her mother’s disappearance. The war seemed such a long time ago now. When she had first left, her grandmother had assumed that Elowed had gone to visit some of her bohemian friends and had left Kitty behind so as not to unsettle her.

  It hadn’t seemed terribly odd at first that Elowed hadn’t been in touch for a few days. She often took off for London or other parts of the country to stay with various people, none of whom were known to her grandmother. It had been the source of many arguments between them. It was only when the days had stretched into more than a week with no contact that the alarm had been raised and the police contacted.

  ‘Where’s the safe? Don’t tell me it’s behind that awful picture of the bowl of fruit over there.’ Matt’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  ‘Fine, I won’t.’ She bit back a smile as he strode confidently forward to move the picture, only to discover a blank wall behind the frame.

  ‘Very funny. Where is it?’

  Kitty walked across the delicately patterned floral carpet to the window seat that ran the length of the sash window overlooking the river. She lifted off the padded seat cushion and ran her fingers under the edge of the sill until she felt a small notch in the wood. With a faint click the sill lifted, revealing a dark metal safe. Kitty extracted a tiny key from her master bunch and opened the lock.

  Once open, she took out the large Manila envelope that occupied most of the space inside the safe.

  ‘Here you are. This has everything the investigators did to try and find my mother. And what little they discovered about my father, although that wasn’t much. Grams’ main focus was on finding Mother.’

  ‘Are there any pictures of her?’

  Kitty nodded. ‘Yes, a few, and I have some more in an album in my room if you need them.’

  Matt took the file and sat on the sofa to study the contents while Kitty relocked the safe. She wondered what he h
oped to find in a battered file of dusty old papers from the nineteen twenties. She had long given up on finding out what had happened to Elowed, her hope having diminished with every passing birthday, Christmas, school play, sports day, and prize-giving. Her father had left at the start of the war, two years before her mother’s disappearance. All she knew about him was his name and that he was probably in America, and she wasn’t sure exactly how she knew that.

  To distract herself from her own thoughts, she turned her attention to the bundle of mail the receptionist had left on top of her grandmother’s bureau. She swiftly sorted the post into advertising material, personal mail and official correspondence. The advertising material went straight into the wastepaper basket. The clearly personal post she clipped together for her grandmother to read on her return.

  Kitty couldn’t resist taking covert peeps at Matt, noticing the firm line of his jaw as she busied herself with her task. He appeared engrossed by the file, making notes from time to time on his notepad as he read.

  ‘Anything jumping out at you?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really. They seem to have done quite a thorough job searching for her. It seems she bought a ticket for London but wasn’t seen beyond Exeter. None of the other sightings were ever verified. As you said, it must have been difficult with people moving around during the war.’

  She picked up the last of the letters. There was something familiar about the plain envelope and local postmark. ‘Matt, I think this might be another one of the anonymous letters.’

  He abandoned the file on the sofa and came to take it from her. Her fingers shook as she passed the envelope over. Matt sliced the letter open with her grandmother’s paper knife and shook the contents onto the open bureau, being careful not to touch it. ‘I doubt if there will be any fingerprints, but you never know.’

  He opened the single sheet of paper out flat using the blade of the knife and a pen.

  You have had enough time. You know what is due. It’s time you gave back that which is not yours to keep.