Murder at the Dolphin Hotel

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Murder at the Dolphin Hotel Page 11

by Helena Dixon


  ‘Hmm, do you think he did see or hear something?’

  ‘I don’t know, but he’s a slippery customer all right. It would seem though that he couldn’t have been involved with your mother’s trip to Dartmoor if he wasn’t operating his motor coach then.’

  Kitty drained the last of her champagne. ‘It certainly sounds that way; it could all be a red herring, I suppose, nothing to do with anything. I must go and mingle, and also check up on my staff. I believe Miss Delaware has another couple of songs before her first break.’

  She walked towards the bar and saw that her staff all appeared to be coping with the throng of people waiting for drinks. Waitresses circulated the tables and the cold supper, included in the price of the ticket for visitors, was being set out in the side room.

  Happy that all was going to plan she made her way around the side of the room, greeting people she knew and acknowledging others.

  ‘Congratulations on a fine event, Miss Underhay.’

  Kitty didn’t recognise the speaker. He must be a visitor as he certainly wasn’t one of the hotel guests. A smartly dressed older gentleman, he had greying hair and an undefinable trace of an accent. ‘Thank you, sir. I hope you are enjoying your evening.’

  She gave her stock answer and moved on but something about the man drew her gaze back to him and she discovered him staring at her in a very disconcerting way. By the time she had found Matt however, the stranger had gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kitty was sorting out the receipts and accounts from the jazz evening in her grandmother’s salon the next day when Inspector Greville paid her a call.

  A tall, thin lugubrious man in his fifties, with a sad moustache, he removed his hat as he entered the salon. ‘Miss Underhay, Inspector Greville.’ He offered her his card.

  ‘Please come in, Inspector, and take a seat. I’ve asked for some tea to be sent up and for Captain Bryant to join us. Do you have news yet about whoever attacked poor Cora?’ She took a seat on the sofa and waited for his response. Matt had alerted her to the possibility of a call from the inspector and felt it wise to use his military title. She supposed from the inspector’s age and appearance that he too was probably a former military man.

  Inspector Greville appeared to be considering his response before answering her question. ‘We have a number of lines of enquiry at present, Miss Underhay. We are trying to establish a timeline of events of who saw Mrs Wakes and when.’

  There was a knock at the door and a young red-headed maid in a smart black uniform entered with a tea tray, followed by Matt.

  ‘Thank you, Alice. You may go.’ She dismissed the maid as Matt shook hands with the inspector.

  ‘How can I assist you?’ Kitty asked as she set out the cups, ready to pour.

  ‘Thank you, miss.’ The officer accepted his cup and took a sip. ‘I’m just attempting to tie up a few loose ends, so to speak.’

  ‘Of course.’ Kitty passed a cup to Matt.

  ‘Your grandmother, Mrs Treadwell, reported some anonymous letters which made her fearful for your safety and that of the hotel?’

  ‘Yes, the letters were very vague, but they concerned her. She employed Captain Bryant to look after security here and I understand the police have made additional patrols.’ Kitty drank some of her tea.

  ‘Hmm, no more letters recently?’

  ‘Nothing hinting at arson, Inspector, or murder.’

  ‘I’ve handed the letters over to the local constable,’ Matt interjected.

  The inspector set his cup back on the saucer before drawing a notebook from the breast pocket of his coat. ‘There are some points of similarity between the attack on Mrs Craven, the murder of Mr Blaas, and the murder of Mrs Wakes.’

  ‘So, I believe.’ Kitty waited for him to continue. She wondered if Blaas was a Dutch surname, the same as DeVries.

  ‘Mrs Craven is an elderly lady, and clearly the nature of her injury has caused her some confusion.’ He surveyed Kitty from under heavy-lidded eyes and she couldn’t tell what he might be thinking. ‘Mrs Craven has described the person who attacked her as possibly being female but dressed as a man. It was the person’s slight stature and high-pitched giggle that appeared to confuse her.’

  ‘Yes, she mentioned this to us when we visited her at the hospital. She did appear very muddled.’ She proffered a plate of biscuits. ‘Rather extraordinarily, she mentioned my mother’s name.’

  A faint reddish tinge appeared on the inspector’s cheeks. ‘Yes, miss, I believe your mother was reported missing some years ago?’

  ‘In nineteen sixteen. I was six. The war was on and my mother was known to be somewhat bohemian. She was a keen supporter of the women’s suffrage movement and there was a shortage of manpower. I don’t think her disappearance was viewed as a cause for concern for some while. However, no one has seen her since then and all investigations have led to the sad conclusion that she is almost certainly dead.’ Kitty placed the biscuits back on the tray.

  ‘I see. And you have no idea why Mrs Craven would think she had seen your mother?’ The inspector appeared uncomfortable.

  ‘None. She disliked my mother, and in her confusion, she may have associated someone she disliked with an unpleasant event. It may also be that because I was in the room, and I’m told I resemble my mother, that she became confused.’ She took a sip of her tea. Matt stayed silent.

  ‘I understand from Captain Bryant that you were working here at the hotel on the afternoon when Mrs Craven was attacked?’

  Kitty raised an eyebrow. ‘I think that if you ask my staff you’ll find I have the perfect alibi, Inspector. Captain Bryant himself saw me here as he left to go and visit her. I have no reason to go around assaulting my grandmother’s friends and certainly couldn’t have gone to her house and attacked her to return in time to pretend I had never left.’ She watched as he made some notes in his book.

  ‘When did you last see Mrs Wakes?’

  She considered the question. ‘I glimpsed her in the hotel foyer shortly before I left with Captain Bryant to visit Mrs Craven at the hospital. Cora should have finished her shift at four o’clock but a staff member hadn’t come to work so she had offered to stay until eight to help out in the dining room. That wasn’t unusual, Cora was often short of money and liked to take up extra hours. I also think she was somewhat lonely, hence her interest in other people’s affairs.’

  ‘You didn’t notice anything unusual about her manner?’

  ‘On the contrary, she seemed pleased with herself. I assumed it was because the extra money would be welcome to her and it was a foul night so she could stay in the dry.’

  The inspector duly noted Kitty’s replies in his book.

  ‘Is Miss Underhay in the clear now? She couldn’t have conked Cora over the head and pushed her in the river either as she was here at the hotel after the fire dealing with guests.’ Matt leaned back on the sofa.

  ‘Miss Underhay’s responses have been very helpful. One has to tie up loose ends and as I mentioned, find a timeline. Miss Underhay’s answers confirm the evidence given by your maintenance man.’

  ‘Of course, Mickey saw her after we’d left for the hospital.’ Kitty picked up the teapot and topped up his cup.

  ‘Mr Farjeon told me that your men discovered Mrs Wakes’s handbag not far from his booth in the long grass near the embankment. The same point where Mr Blaas met his end?’

  The inspector turned his gaze to Matt. ‘Yes, we believe that may be where she entered the water.’

  ‘Her bag was on the bank, but her purse was in her coat pocket; did you not find that rather suggestive?’

  Kitty frowned at Matt and wondered what he meant.

  ‘You mean she may have taken out her purse to pay for something, or in the expectation of receiving money, and didn’t return it to her bag?’

  ‘Was there much in her purse?’ Kitty asked.

  The inspector drained his cup and eyed them both, as if judging if he could trust them with the i
nformation he was about to impart. ‘There was a five pound note.’

  Kitty’s mind raced. ‘Cora wouldn’t have had that kind of money on her person. She was always short of funds because she supported her son, Colin. He was frequently unemployed and often asked his mother for money. How very odd.’

  ‘Indeed, miss.’ The inspector rose and collected his hat from the side table. ‘Thank you for the tea, Miss Underhay. You have my card, should you think of anything which could assist the enquiry.’

  ‘Inspector, the man who was staying here, Mr Smith – or rather, Mr DeVries – is he involved with the death of the other man?’

  Greville turned his hat around in his hands as if unsure of how much he should say. ‘The men were connected, but we don’t believe he was involved in the murder.’

  ‘I see, thank you.’ She couldn’t help feeling a little relieved that whatever crimes Mr Smith may have committed, at least he had not murdered Mr Blaas.

  ‘I’ll come with you and see you out.’ Matt escorted Inspector Greville from the salon.

  ‘You believe Cora had gone to meet someone to collect that money?’ Kitty asked as soon as he returned to the salon.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ He felt her gaze resting on him as he paced about the room. ‘Inspector Greville is making enquiries at the bank.’

  ‘The bank?’

  ‘Cora’s son, Colin, hasn’t been seen at his address for several weeks. Cora was nothing if not a doting mother. If she had gone to receive money from someone, they wouldn’t have killed her and left the money behind.’

  ‘Oh. You think Cora was expecting to meet Colin and the money was for him?’

  ‘Could be. I think the money may be from her savings.’

  ‘Do you think he might have been involved with the fire?’

  Matt could see Kitty’s mind racing.

  ‘Cora may have been intending to give him money so he could get away. Why would he set a fire, though?’

  ‘Perhaps so he could search within the hotel without interruption for whatever it is that someone is looking for?’ Matt suggested.

  ‘Oh, this is all so complicated. Do you think Colin is behind those letters?’

  ‘It’s a possibility; he would know about your mother and her disappearance. Now, we need to call your grandmother before we meet Miss Delaware and her agent for luncheon.’

  ‘I think you should tell her about the fire and Cora before I ask her about Vivien and my father.’

  ‘Coward.’ He took a seat at the bureau and dialled. Mrs Treadwell was understandably shocked by news of the arson attack and she sounded genuinely upset over Cora. He passed the receiver to Kitty.

  ‘Darling, are you all right? Such dreadful news. Poor Cora, do they think that ne’er-do-well son was involved?’

  ‘I don’t know if Colin is a suspect, the inspector didn’t give much away. It does look bad for him, though. They still haven’t made an arrest for the other murder. By the way, Miss Delaware’s first night was a terrific success, despite everything. People came from miles to hear her. It’s such a shame that something so terrible has happened to spoil things.’

  ‘People are sensation-hunters, sad to say; I doubt something so awful as poor Cora’s demise will put them off. I’m glad Miss Delaware went down well.’ Matt could hear Mrs Treadwell’s replies quite clearly.

  ‘Did Mother ever mention a friend called Vivien?’ Kitty asked.

  ‘Your mother? I don’t know, darling. Not that I can recall. She had many friends, as you know, but never said much about them. She knew I disapproved. Why?’

  ‘Miss Delaware claims to know my parents. She says she met them when they were together, living in America. She says she knew me when I was an infant before mother bought me to the Dolphin.’

  There was a moment of silence.

  ‘How very unexpected.’

  ‘Miss Delaware also says she saw my father in London a few weeks ago in the club where she was performing. She is confident that it was him.’ Kitty’s voice shook slightly.

  Mrs Treadwell’s gasp was so loud that Matt heard it. ‘That’s impossible. No one has seen Edgar in England for years. Not since he left for America at the start of the war.’

  ‘When did you last see him, Grams?’

  Matt raised his brow. To the best of his knowledge Mrs Treadwell had always denied ever meeting Elowed’s husband, yet Kitty clearly now had reason to believe differently.

  ‘In nineteen fourteen, at the start of the Great War. Your mother had returned to England with you. Edgar followed a few weeks later. Then Elowed sent a telegram to me from London saying Edgar was returning to America. She asked me for a loan to tide her over until he settled some business affairs.’

  He could see Kitty’s fingers turning white as she tightened her grip on the telephone receiver.

  ‘I caught the train to see your mother and you. Edgar was only present at the house briefly. I wanted to remind him of his patriotic duty to serve his country. Young men all over the country were queuing up to enlist, I was ashamed that a son-in-law of mine would not be amongst them. Your father, however, had other ideas. His mother was from Boston and he has dual nationality; he had no intention of serving even if the war would be over by Christmas.’

  ‘You never told me any of this. You always said you’d never met him.’

  ‘No. I didn’t want you to think of your father as a coward and to bear that shame. I only met Edgar a couple of times in total and that was the last time I saw him. Your mother was always reticent about where they had met and what line of business he was in. She was of age when they married so of course I could do nothing to prevent it. It was bad enough that you lost your mother, I couldn’t bring myself to discuss your father and his shortcomings. I regret to say that your father was not the kind of gentleman I would have wished your mother to have married. I’m sorry, Kitty, I should have told you, but you had lost your mother and somehow the time never appeared right.’

  No wonder Mrs Treadwell had not wished to discuss Kitty’s father. A draft dodger and a coward. Cold fury coiled in Matt’s stomach. The man must be a complete scoundrel to abandon his wife and child and flee overseas to avoid enlisting. Then to fail to return after the war to even find out what had happened to them was appalling.

  ‘Oh, Grams, do you think all this unpleasantness is tied up with what happened when Mother went missing?’ A tear rolled down Kitty’s cheek and Matt swallowed hard. This had to be dreadful news for her.

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t understand it. Why now? After all this time? Your mother only left you a few things. And yet someone must believe we have something of value.’

  ‘I know. There was nothing that anyone could possibly find of any worth. Certainly nothing that could cause all this intrigue.’

  ‘As soon as poor Livvy is well enough to travel I’ve insisted I shall bring her back to convalesce. Do say you forgive me for not telling you about your father, darling, I only wanted to protect you.’

  ‘Of course I forgive you. It will be wonderful, Grams, to see you and Aunt Livvy. I’ve missed you so much.’

  Kitty made small talk with her grandmother for a few more minutes before ending the call. She replaced the receiver before retrieving her handkerchief from her pocket and dabbing her eyes and nose.

  He waited until she had composed herself. ‘What do you have of your mother’s?’

  ‘An old locket, some photographs. A few of her scarves, her fur stole, and my clock.’

  ‘A clock?’

  Kitty smiled. ‘Apparently, when my parents were first married, they toured Europe on honeymoon and Mother bought this darling, funny little wooden cuckoo clock. You must have seen them, the ones with the weights underneath and a little cuckoo sounding out the hour. I’ve always loved it and it’s hung on my wall for years.’

  ‘What happened to the rest of the things?’

  ‘You saw the letters – well, some of them. My grandmother couldn’t bear to keep Mother’s things aro
und, but she thought I might want them one day. She had everything packed up and they were stored in the hotel until the refurbishment a few years ago. There are only a couple of boxes.’

  ‘So where are they now?’

  Kitty shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. We had to move them. I rather think Mrs Craven may have them. The storeroom roof had a leak and Grams was worried about damp.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Do you think that’s what they were looking for? My mother’s things? But there is nothing of any value in those boxes. Just some old clothes and personal effects. Really, I should have thrown them out.’

  Matt wondered if that were true. ‘Well, someone must think there is something in there.’ He would dearly love to know what it was and why it was worth killing for.

  Kitty sighed. ‘I wanted to ask Grams more about my father, what he looked like, but she sounded so upset about keeping the truth from me for so long. I sometimes forget she’s an elderly lady.’ She gave a wan smile.

  ‘We had better leave for the dining room, Miss Delaware doesn’t seem like a lady you would wish to keep waiting. Perhaps she may be able to tell you more.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Vivien Delaware was seated at a table overlooking the river. Her two-piece costume was chic and up-to-date in a soft lavender shade. Her matching hat was pert and in the latest style but her jewellery appeared somewhat loud for daytime. A short, rotund, rosy-cheeked man with a straggly beard, wearing a rather ostentatious checked suit, sat next to her.

  ‘Kitty honey, come and meet my agent, Bobby. He was held up in London on business and only arrived here this morning.’ Miss Delaware stood to embrace Kitty, whilst her agent also stood to greet them both.

  ‘It’s nice to meet you. May I present Captain Matthew Bryant, he is head of security here at the Dolphin Hotel.’

  For a brief second something shifted in Vivien Delaware’s expression and Matt sensed wariness enter the atmosphere. The bright spring sunshine highlighted the fine lines on her complexion, and he wondered how old Vivien actually was.

 

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