by Helena Dixon
‘No, sir, it’s a puzzle and no mistake. At least we know he weren’t the one murdering Mrs Wakes, him being locked up and all.’ The sergeant extinguished his own cigarette.
‘No news on who attacked Mrs Craven either? Same modus operandi?’
‘Ar well, sir, who knows. Inspector Greville is doing the looking into things.’ The sergeant’s expression changed slightly, and his gaze shifted so he was no longer meeting Matt’s eyes. Matt wondered if Mrs Craven’s ramblings about Elowed had made the police suspect Kitty, especially with the anonymous letters.
He held out his hand to shake the sergeant’s. ‘Well, good luck. I’m sure you’ll do everything to catch the man or men responsible.’
‘Yes, sir, and thank you again. Not a nice task on a bright spring day.’ The man bade farewell, leaving Matt to meander along deep in thought.
‘Captain Bryant!’ A breathless shout from behind him broke into his reverie. He paused on the pavement as a short man in his mid-twenties wearing thick-lensed spectacles caught up to him.
‘Whew, nearly missed you, sir. Walter Cribbs, Torbay Herald.’ He proffered a slightly dog-eared card.
Matt took the card to be polite. Much as he disliked and distrusted the press, he had no wish to make an enemy. ‘I believe you were at the Dolphin Hotel last night to report on the vandalism?’
The reporter’s eyes gleamed behind his glasses as his breathing steadied to a less wheezy rhythm. ‘Yes indeed, a shocking business. Miss Underhay must be very relieved no one was hurt.’
‘Indeed. Let’s hope they catch the culprit soon.’
‘The crime rate in Dartmouth appears to have increased dramatically since you arrived, Captain Bryant. A wanted man staying at the Dolphin, a fire, Mrs Craven viciously attacked in her own home, and now an employee of the Dolphin found drowned, believed murdered.’
A faint sneer framed Walter Cribbs’s mouth and Matt experienced a sudden desire to remove it with his fists. Instead he remained calm. ‘Yes, I had no idea the town was so dangerous. That must be why Mrs Treadwell asked me to work for her, to ensure her guests’ safety and privacy.’
‘I’m given to understand that Miss Underhay may be implicated in the attack on Mrs Craven?’ The reporter had produced a notepad and his pencil was hovering over the page.
‘Then you are misinformed. Miss Underhay is very concerned for Mrs Craven’s recovery as the lady has been suffering from confusion since the assault. Mrs Craven is a dear friend of her grandmother.’ He had guessed correctly that Mrs C had been waffling on about Elowed and now the police were investigating Kitty’s alibi. It was clearly ridiculous that Kitty could be involved.
‘And the body of Cora Wakes, drowned in mysterious circumstances shortly after the fire?’
Matt snorted. ‘Are you insinuating that Miss Underhay is in the habit of trying to burn down her own hotel on a rainy night and that she killed Cora Wakes because she saw her do it? I think you’ve been watching too many films at the cinema, my friend.’
Walter returned his notepad and pencil to his coat pocket. ‘You can’t blame a bloke for trying. Usually the most exciting thing I get to report on is Jeb Carter being fined for being drunk and disorderly again. I have to ask the questions. Miss Underhay and I are very close, and I can’t be seen to show favouritism.’
From the way Kitty had spoken about Walter, this was evidently untrue. ‘Will you be attending the jazz evening tonight? Miss Delaware and her band were a huge success in London, I believe?’
‘A reporter’s work is never done, the public must have the news. I expect I shall see you and Miss Underhay there. I’m sure Kitty will be expecting me.’ Walter tipped the brim of his hat before scuttling off down the street.
On his way back to the hotel, Matt decided to call at Hubert Farjeon’s yellow and green striped booth near the ferry site. The little wood-panelled building was shaped like a fairy-tale castle turret complete with pointed roof and a pennant on top.
The booth was closed but he spent a few minutes looking at the bills advertising Mr Farjeon’s motor coach tours. Every Wednesday it seemed he took parties to Torquay to try the refined delights of the glorious beaches and sophisticated promenades. On Fridays there was a whole day tour to Dartmoor to see the glorious wildness of the moors and to sample a delicious Devon cream tea. There were several other tours described with so much hyperbole that Matt wondered if Mr Farjeon employed Walter Cribbs to write his advertising copy.
He noticed a uniformed officer searching along the grassed area of the embankment near the ferry and wondered if that was where the authorities thought Cora had entered the water. It certainly seemed to be the same place that the other man had been found. He would have liked to ask questions but decided he needed to return to the Dolphin to tell Kitty that Inspector Greville might be calling on her.
Chapter Thirteen
Kitty was struggling to finish dressing when there was a knock on the door of her room. ‘Who is it?’ She wiggled her dark blue satin sleeveless dress into place over her hips and looked on her dressing table for her necklace.
‘It’s Matt, are you decent?’
‘Are you determined to ruin what’s left of my reputation?’ She flew across the room to haul him inside before anyone came along the corridor and saw him there. ‘Where have you been all day? I have so much to tell you.’
Without waiting for his reply, she handed him her necklace and turned her back, bowing her head forward, exposing the fashionable low-cut back of her dress. ‘Could you fasten the clasp on this for me, please? I have no maid tonight as everyone is busy downstairs and I need to get to the ballroom for the start of Miss Delaware’s performance.’
‘Kitty, I need to talk to you.’ His fingers were cool against the skin at the nape of her neck as he fumbled with the tiny clasp of her necklace.
‘Is it about the body in the river? Such horrid news. One of the guests told one of the girls this morning and it’s been the buzz of the day. They said it was the same place where that other poor man was found. Mickey said you’d been called to the police station and then Cora didn’t come to work.’ She straightened her head as his fingers moved away from her neck, leaving behind the faintest sizzle of electricity.
‘Kitty, the body in the river…’ He stopped speaking as she turned to look at him.
‘Who was it?’ She suspected she already knew the answer but dreaded the confirmation. The very idea made her sick. The gossip had said it was a woman, and Cora was missing. She hadn’t wanted to believe there might be a connection.
‘The police asked me to officially confirm her identity. Obviously, they knew who it was already, but protocol has to be followed. I’m so sorry, Kitty.’
‘Cora.’ Although she had already guessed it might be the case, it was still shocking to have it confirmed.
Matt nodded. ‘They’re trying to trace her son, Colin. He’s not been seen at his address for a few weeks.’
‘Accident? Or suicide? What happened to her?’ It was hard to believe Cora was dead. She was part of the furniture at the Dolphin, poking around in everyone’s business, feeding people tea and biscuits. Trying to be first to find out any titbits of news and passing the gossip whether a person wanted to hear it or not.
‘It looks like murder. The police doctor says she was hit over the head before she fell into the water.’
Kitty gasped and placed her hand over her mouth. Hearing her fears made real made bile rise into the back of her throat. ‘What’s happening around here, Matt?’
She watched as he paced about the room. ‘I don’t know. I wish I did but whatever is happening it’s far more dangerous than either your grandmother or I thought it would be.’
Kitty sank down onto the chaise longue at the foot of her bed. ‘I knew Grams was keeping something more from me.’
‘Only that she was afraid for your safety. She was convinced the letters were to do with your mother, but she was reticent on the subject of your father. With these even
ts happening, I wonder when we’ll hear from the anonymous letter writer again and if the letters will become more specific.’
‘You think we will get more, now Cora is dead?’
Matt nodded. ‘Oh yes, I’m sure of it. There has to be some connection; I don’t believe in coincidence.’
‘Miss Delaware told me she saw my father in her club in London the other week.’ She didn’t think she would ever see Matt struck dumb, but it seemed she had succeeded. ‘She knew my parents when they were together it seems, and she says she recognised him.’ She quickly filled Matt in on all she’d learned that afternoon.
‘Kitty, be very careful. Again, this can’t simply be coincidental.’ He didn’t look happy. ‘We’ll call your grandmother in the morning. She needs to know what Miss Delaware has told you about your father, and about what’s happened to Cora.’
‘Do you think what she said was true? My father is alive and in London?’
‘I don’t know. She may be telling the truth. We can try and find out more over the next few days. I think it’s time your grandmother told us everything she knows.’
She caught sight of the time on his wristwatch. ‘I have to go downstairs. I’m late.’ She jumped to her feet.
‘I’ll be down shortly. I need to change.’
He slipped out of her room and she finished her toilette before locking the door and heading towards the ballroom. She took a deep breath as she descended the broad oak staircase, her satin skirts swishing against her legs.
The hum of conversation mingled with the music from the Dolphin’s small house band to greet her as she entered the ballroom. Cigarette smoke hung in a pale blue fuzz over the white linen-covered tabletops and the huge glass chandeliers glittered with electric light. Some couples were already on the dance floor, others seated at the tables. Jewellery sparkled on the ladies’ gowns and hair ornaments and the gentlemen were formal in dark dinner suits. Evening entertainment at the Dolphin was free to guests and at a small ticket price for visitors. A satisfying number of tickets had been sold for the opening night and the hotel was fully booked.
She spotted Walter Cribbs lurking behind one of the potted palms and swiftly headed in the opposite direction. She had no wish for an encounter with him. Miss Delaware was due to make her entrance within a few minutes with her musicians and it seemed that all of Dartmouth society was there to see her.
Kitty moved through the crowds, nodding and smiling in acknowledgement to those she knew. It appeared that news of Miss Delaware’s arrival had spread around the bay like wildfire. There were several parties that she guessed must have motored from Torquay. There were also lots of faces she didn’t recognise.
She made it to the small, low-set stage just as the band were finishing the last song of their set and Miss Delaware’s musicians prepared in the wings to take over. The crowd applauded and the couples on the dance floor resumed their seats as Kitty entered the stage to take to the microphone.
‘Welcome lords, ladies and gentlemen to the Dolphin Hotel. We are delighted and honoured to have as our guest entertainer for the next two weeks the wonderful Miss Vivien Delaware and her band. Miss Delaware has recently completed a residency at The Cat’s Miaow club in London and is a huge star in her native city of Chicago in America. We are so fortunate to have her here. I’m sure you’ll all make her very welcome, Miss Vivien Delaware.’
Kitty stepped off the stage to rapturous applause as Vivien strode out in a daringly cut, new style gold silk evening gown. She nodded her head to acknowledge Kitty’s introduction before launching into ‘Night and Day’, a huge hit from the previous year and a guaranteed crowd-pleaser.
‘Champagne?’ A glass was pressed into her hand and she turned her head to discover Matt standing at her side, resplendent in a black double-breasted dinner suit. His unruly hair for once was tidy and she caught a glimpse of gold cufflinks as he adjusted his bow tie.
‘You scrub up very nicely, Mr Bryant,’ Kitty murmured, ‘and very quickly.’ She took a sip of her drink and continued to survey the room.
‘You too, Miss Underhay.’ His deep voice so close to her ear called a blush to her cheek.
‘Vivien is terribly good, isn’t she?’
‘Excellent. You were lucky to get someone of her stature. How did you come to book her?’
Kitty frowned. ‘I’m not really sure. I remember thinking she probably wouldn’t want to come as we obviously can’t pay London rates, but I think I heard she’d been a little unwell and had been advised to take sea air, so I thought I’d try. I only secured the booking a few weeks ago after our original booking let us down.’
‘And you can’t recall who told you about her?’
She glanced up at him. ‘I think I received a flyer from the theatrical booking agency we use. I wanted someone different from our regular entertainers and it was a little last minute. Do you know, I rather think Cora told me she’d read about Vivien in a stage newspaper so I wrote to her agent.’ Her eyes widened. ‘You think it might have been some kind of set-up to get her here?’
Matthew raised his own glass and took a sip. ‘It’s curious, don’t you think?’
Vivien moved seamlessly on to her next song. Matt took Kitty’s glass from her hand and placed it next to his on a nearby table. ‘May I have the pleasure of a dance, Miss Underhay?’
Before she could protest, he swept her out onto the crowded dance floor. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Walter Cribbs was heading in our direction.’ Matt expertly guided her into a less populated space.
‘Ugh, that wretched man. I expect he has a photographer with him too. People pay the newspaper for print copies of themselves all dressed up on an evening out.’ Even as she spoke, she could see the photographer taking a picture of Sir Roderick Nightingale, the local magistrate, with his wife and daughter.
‘Still, all good publicity and fodder for the society column. Mr Cribbs was keen to impress upon me your close friendship,’ Matt remarked. ‘Better smile and look as if you’re enjoying yourself.’
She gasped indignantly at Walter Cribbs’s nerve. The gentle heat of Matt’s hand through the flimsy navy satin of her dress as he guided her around the dance floor made her feel a little giddy as they moved together in time to the music and she relaxed into the rhythm.
She wasn’t sure if she was glad or sorry when he finally released her at the side of the dance floor when the song ended.
‘I see our drinks are gone. I’ll get some more.’ Matt vanished into the crowd.
‘Miss Underhay, what a triumph this all is. Your dear grandmother must be delighted.’
Mr Farjeon stood before her. In place of his usual striped blazer and straw boater he wore a rather old-fashioned black dinner suit which appeared to have seen better days and bore a faint scent of mothballs. He was a stiff little man in his late sixties, with grey hair and a moustache.
‘Thank you, Mr Farjeon, you’re most kind. My grandmother is away at present and I know she will be very disappointed if she doesn’t return in time to hear Miss Delaware sing.’
The man gave a tiny bow. ‘Better news for her than the unfortunate fire, and of course, Mrs Wakes’s terrible accident.’
‘Goodness, news travels swiftly in our small town. Luckily the fire did little damage, but as you say, poor Cora’s death is quite shocking. I heard you made the awful discovery of the earlier murder?’
Mr Farjeon became serious. ‘Indeed, it was most distressing. I saw something moving in the water. I was quite cross at first thinking someone had deposited rubbish or an animal carcass. I used a boatman’s pole to try to manoeuvre it to the bank. Forgive me, Miss Underhay, when I say the shock of those dead eyes looking into mine—’ He broke off and wiped his upper lip with a slightly grubby handkerchief.
Kitty was relieved to see Matt arriving with fresh drinks.
‘Mr Farjeon, may I present Captain Bryant, the new security manager here at the Dolphin.’
Matt’s eyebrows rose by the
tiniest fraction at her use of his military title. He extended his hand to Mr Farjeon. ‘Delighted to meet you, sir. I understand you have a motor coach touring business?’
Mr Farjeon smoothed his moustache. ‘Ah, yes, you may have seen my little booth. Day trips to visit the delights of our glorious countryside aboard the Daisy-belle.’
‘It sounds delightful. Have you had the business for long?’
‘Quite some years now. I had to stop for a time during the war. Fuel shortages and of course the military. It’s taken some time to build things back up and the public expect so much these days.’
‘Mr Farjeon and I were discussing poor Cora and of course that other unfortunate.’ Kitty took a fortifying sip of champagne. She guessed that Mr Farjeon had suffered financial hardships over the last decade, hence his rather shabby appearance.
‘Yes, I was saying to Miss Underhay, what a tragedy. Especially so soon after the other. The police were examining the area near my booth. I believe they may have recovered the unfortunate lady’s handbag from the riverbank. Most distressing, the whole thing.’ He shook his head sorrowfully. Kitty exchanged a glance with Matt.
‘Poor lady. I think that the police are trying to trace her son.’
Mr Farjeon gave Matt a sharp look. ‘Indeed, I was unaware… dear, dear. Colin Wakes was always something of a disappointment to poor Cora, I believe. He took after his father, drink and petty crime.’
‘The police think she met with her end shortly before midnight.’ Matt’s tone was smooth.
‘You live near your booth, Mr Farjeon, did you see or hear anything untoward?’ Kitty asked.
‘I, dear lady? No, not at all. Not in either case. I would have been secure in my bed by then. I’m not as young as I was, you know. You must excuse me; I see the mayor beckoning me.’ He nodded to them both and made his escape.
‘Another curiosity,’ Matt remarked. ‘That was a rather swift exit.’