Honeymoon with Death

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by Honeymoon


  The woman ran straight at him, colliding with him. He caught her by the shoulders but she pushed past him, still screaming hysterically. Jasper wanted to inspect the skull closer but didn’t think a search of someone else’s hotel room was the best course to take.

  He rushed after the woman, who had met up with her husband in the doorway to the lobby. “What is the matter now?” he slurred. “You saw more beetles?”

  “There’s a skull on the bed.” The woman panted. “It has my coin in its mouth. The good luck coin.”

  Jasper walked up to them and said, “Good evening. Can I help you? Is something amiss?”

  “Ask her.” The man pointed at the woman. “She’s the one seeing things that aren’t there.’

  The woman burst into tears.

  “How could you see inside the room while I got the key?” the man said, in the petulant tone of a four year old.

  “I found the key,” the woman said, a tremor in her voice.

  “You could have come after me to tell me not to bother with a spare.”

  Jasper inwardly shook his head. He imagined they had had this kind of argument before, and that even a holiday in a sunny place didn’t make it better. He wanted to say something to solve it all, but realised he couldn’t. Still, he wasn’t about to walk away and leave an upset woman with a man who didn’t take her seriously.

  “I saw the skull as well,” he said.

  “And what were you doing in our bedroom? Is it him now? Didn’t you like the painter? Don’t you think I know? I know it all!” The man was yelling at the top of his voice, and hotel staff rushed up to ask what was wrong.

  “Nothing is wrong but my wife betraying me on our honeymoon!” the man shouted.

  Jasper waved off the hotel staff. “Strong coffee for this gentleman, please.”

  “Don’t you start patronising me, you—” The man tried to take a swing at Jasper, but the former inspector caught his arm by the wrist and flicked it behind his back. The man groaned in agony.

  “That was not very clever,” Jasper said softly. “I suggest you sit down here…” He led him to a bench and put him on it. “And drink your coffee as soon as it arrives.”

  “You also saw the skull?” the woman asked, by his side. “I didn’t imagine it?’

  “Why would you have imagined it?’

  “You don’t know what happened last night.”

  “Shut up,” the man barked. “Don’t make a bigger fool of yourself.”

  The biggest fool here is you, Jasper thought, but didn’t say it. He was supposed to smooth things over, not make them worse. “Why don’t we go inside?” he suggested to the woman.

  She nodded gratefully.

  They left the man slumped on the bench.

  Jasper said as they entered the hotel: “My name is Jasper. I just arrived this afternoon. Have you been here longer?”

  “Yes.” She halted and gave him her hand. “Damaris Ramsforth. I’m on honeymoon here.”

  “It doesn’t seem like a very pleasant trip, Mrs Ramsforth.” Jasper squeezed her hand. “May I assume that man outside is your husband?”

  He expected her to say something like, “Unfortunately, yes,” but she hung her head and whispered, “It’s all my fault.”

  Jasper narrowed his eyes. In his long years at Scotland Yard he had often dealt with victims: of robbery, burglary, assault, attempted murder. People responded in different ways to encountering violence: they became angry and ready to lash out, take revenge, or they huddled in a corner, trying to make themselves invisible, too shocked to speak about it.

  And sometimes they even blamed themselves for what had happened. Jasper had always believed it afforded them a reason why. This woman was probably wondering why her honeymoon had turned into this, and to make it understandable, she blamed herself.

  He smiled at her. “I’m sure you’re not to blame.’

  “Oh, but I am. First the scene last night and now this.” Mrs Ramsforth wrung her hands. “I feel like such a fool. Still… you saw the skull as well, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I saw it clearly. Briefly, but clearly. There was something golden in its mouth.”

  “Our good-luck coin. Last night when we arrived in our suite there was a shell on each of our pillows on the bed. The shell held a good-luck coin. Teddy explained to me you’re supposed to keep it. But I lost mine. Now it’s back. In the mouth of a skull.”

  She shivered. “The beetles were also a portent of death, Dupin said.”

  “Who is Dupin?”

  “He’s an artist who’s painting a commission for the suite we’re staying in. This morning he was here to measure the space for it. I talked to him. Teddy didn’t like it.” Mrs Ramsforth took a deep breath. “He seems to think I’m betraying him. But we’ve only just married, and I love him.”

  Jasper frowned at her. “He pushed you off your feet and you love him?” He flinched under the directness of his own question. He wasn’t in the interrogation room here but on holiday, talking to someone he barely knew.

  “He’s not usually like that.” She rushed to defend her husband. “He drank too much. We dined with friends here on the island and I think there was an unpleasant discussion between the men. I was in the garden with the lady of the house so I don’t know what they talked about. But Teddy was different afterwards.”

  “That is unfortunate.” Jasper told himself he should be a little more lenient towards the young man as his wife was apparently ready to understand and forgive. “And what happened last night, if I may ask?”

  Mrs Ramsforth hung her head again. “I screamed like I just screamed. Not about a skull though, but beetles. They were crawling all over the flowers Teddy bought me in the harbour when we came off the ferry.”

  “It’s possible that insects get into flowers and when you put them in the vase they come out. Dahlias are especially prone to—”

  She cut across him, “There weren’t dahlias and the beetles weren’t small. There were dozens of them – big, black beetles. It was horrible. Like a bad dream.” Mrs Ramsforth swallowed hard. “The worst thing was that after I ran out to call for help, Teddy went in with me to remove the beetles and they weren’t there any more. All gone. As if they had never been there.”

  Jasper studied her expression. “And now you doubt you actually saw them?”

  “I know they were there. I felt one brush my hand when I reached for the matchbox on the bedside table to light the lamp. I know they were there.”

  She bit her lip. “But Teddy said that I had been mistaken and I can’t explain to him how they can have been there one minute and gone the next.”

  “Can they have flown out of the window?” Jasper suggested.

  “I suppose so, but why would they come in and crawl all over my flowers and then leave again, all of them, not a single one staying behind?”

  Jasper put his hand on her arm. “It’s possible they left through the window. So what you saw and what your husband saw can both be true. There’s no reason to doubt yourself.”

  Mrs Ramsforth smiled weakly. “Thank you. I tried to tell myself this morning that things happen on holiday. That not everything about a strange place is pleasant. Then Dupin told me about these beetles being a portent of death and also said they never go into houses. Isn’t that odd, then?”

  Jasper squeezed her arm. “You must not think about it any more.” But inside him questions were raging. Regardless of whether the beetles ever came inside and whether they could have left again through the window while Mrs Ramsforth was out of the room getting help, there was a skull on her pillow now. That had not come in of its own accord. It was planted? To give her a scare?

  But why?

  “Have you holidayed here before?” he asked. “You said you have friends here?’

  “They’re friends of Teddy’s. It’s quite coincidental they are here. They’re taking care of the house of a friend. I’ve never been here before. I had never been to Greece. Or anywhere else. I was never i
n a position to travel.”

  “I see.” That made it particularly odd. If she had never been here before and no one knew her here, why would anyone want to put a skull on her pillow?

  Her husband came in, looking decidedly unsteady on his feet. “Where is that coffee?” he slurred.

  Jasper gestured in the direction of the dining room and adjacent kitchens. “It will be here soon.”

  “Then you get away from my wife,” the man said.

  Jasper kept his gaze on him. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Ramsforth.”

  “Get lost,” Ramsforth spat, and staggered towards the dining room.

  Jasper said to Mrs Ramsforth, “We’d better get back to your suite and have a closer look at that skull.”

  “A closer look? Why? I’ve seen enough of it.” She wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

  “I want to know who put it there,” Jasper said bluntly. “I assume it wasn’t part of the suite’s decoration?”

  “No, definitely not.”

  He smiled at her. “I’ve been to Africa and there the walls of the lodge I was staying at were decorated with spears, blow pipes and monkey skulls.”

  “How awful.” She shuddered.

  Jasper gestured for her to go ahead of him. “It could be an animal skull on the bed.”

  “Could. So you think it could also be human?” Her eyes stared at him from her ashen face. “I think I’m going to faint.”

  “No, you’re not. Take a deep breath. We’re going to investigate this more closely, together. Come on.”

  He ushered her ahead of him, across the courtyard and to the door of the suite, which had been left half open. They stepped in.

  Jasper believed for a moment he caught a whiff of something on the air, a specific scent. Not a perfume, but something more like a cooking odour. Onions? Garlic?

  He looked at the bed. The skull was gone.

  Jasper blinked. He had only seen a glimpse of it, but he was certain it had been there. He could still picture its yellowish colour and the shimmer of something in the gaping mouth. But the pillow was empty.

  Not even an indentation where the skull had been.

  Mrs Ramsforth said, “You see? Gone.” Her voice rose on the latter word.

  Jasper nodded. “I see.” He looked around him. “Is there another door into this suite?’

  “No. That’s the bathroom, but it has no door leading to the outside.”

  His gaze wandered to the window. Were those bars wide enough to allow for a skull to pass through them? It seemed unlikely.

  And how would someone be able to reach from the outside to place the skull on the bed?

  Even with tongs it would have been some feat.

  “Mrs Ramsforth…” He looked at her earnestly. “Do you know anyone on this island except for the friends with whom you dined tonight?”

  “No.”

  “So the only people you do know were all with you when the skull was put here on the pillow for you to find?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then a perfect stranger is trying to frighten you by leaving a skull on your bed?”

  “I can’t understand why. But it seems so.” Mrs Ramsforth looked down at the floor.

  Jasper tapped his foot, trying to work out what was happening. “Do you have any idea who might want to frighten you? Have you been the victim of such pranks before? In England? Someone mailing you something? Writing you a poison pen letter? Intimidating you in any way? Did you leave a job after an argument with a colleague?”

  He realised as he said it how odd it would be if it was that. Would someone spend money to travel all the way to a Greek island to persecute a young woman over an incident at work in London?

  “I did leave my job upon my marriage, but I never had any trouble there. Or with my landlady. I can’t imagine anyone hating me.” Mrs Ramsforth clenched her hands. “Besides, I didn’t see anyone I know on the ferry out here. Or on the island. Just strangers.”

  “These friends of your husband, you’ve never met them before?”

  “No. I did know Teddy knew them, he mentioned them to me. He’s going into business with Gideon. Gideon Hawtree and his wife, Robin.”

  Jasper had the fleeting impression the name Hawtree rang a bell with him, but he couldn’t determine because of what. Had he read it in the newspapers? Had he heard it in the course of a case? Had he known someone named Hawtree in the police force? It was three years since he had quit so he might not recall a constable he had met on a case.

  He reached up and ran his hand through his hair. “So you never experienced any form of hostility until you were here?”

  “I can’t recall any. And my life is fairly uneventful so I should remember.” She gave him a weak smile. “But then the past few months have been a whirlwind. Meeting Teddy, falling in love, getting engaged and then marrying.’

  “So it was all rather sudden?” Jasper narrowed his eyes. Was this the thread he was looking for? A way into the mystery?

  “Yes. We met when I went to see a play. A ticket to the play had been delivered to my letterbox, after a draw selecting random people to attend. I couldn’t quite believe it – just going to a play was so exciting – and then I also met Teddy. It was love at first sight, I guess.” A genuine smile warmed her features. “He’s a wonderful man. Not at all like you saw him tonight.”

  The smile died, and she wrapped her arms around her shoulders again. “There’s something wrong with this island. There’s an evil atmosphere here. It’s destroying everything.”

  Jasper raised a soothing hand. “Mrs Ramsforth, you and your husband didn’t know each other well before you married. I wager you’ve only spent time with each other now and then: an evening at the opera or out to dinner, a Saturday in the country. Now, all of a sudden, you’re together, day and night. Doing everything together, seeing each other when you are not in the best of moods. It’s different.”

  Mrs Ramsforth nodded. “You’re right about that. I realise sometimes how little I know Teddy. I don’t know his friends at all. Suddenly, I’m at someone’s house talking to them like we’ve been friends for years and it’s so odd. Uncomfortable, awkward. Especially as they are used to far more than I have ever been.” She hung her head.

  “I can imagine,” he said kindly. “All of this is new to you. Travelling, seeing new places. A language you don’t speak, constant strangers around. You can’t blame yourself for experiencing some tension. But you mustn’t assume the worst. This island is no more evil than other places might be. It would be best if you got a good night’s sleep. I’m staying at this hotel so if anything is the matter, you may call on me. Room 3, just off the lobby.”

  “Oh, thank you. That’s very kind.’

  Thinking of her jealous husband, Jasper hurried to add, “I’ve been with the police, Scotland Yard. I, uh… I tend to jump into things that are a bit unusual because they appeal to my sleuthing instincts, I hope you don’t think I’m being intrusive. But I would just like to help, if I can.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” she repeated. “But the police? Do you think something criminal is happening here?”

  She looked very young and vulnerable, almost lost in this strange place.

  Jasper shook his head. “Not at all. I just want you to know why I’m interested in what happened here tonight. The mystery of the vanishing skull.”

  Now she smiled, involuntarily.

  He added, “I also would like your husband to know that I’m not…” – he looked for the right words – “a threat to him. He seemed a bit possessive of you.”

  She flushed deeply. “Teddy has never shown this jealous streak before. I suppose he also has to adjust to everything that’s new now that we’re married.”

  Jasper thought it would have been wiser not to marry so soon, but he didn’t say it. They had, and they now had to make the best out of their situation.

  “Come to me if there’s anything amiss,” he said. “Even in the middle of the nigh
t. You will wake my dog, too, but I assure you he’s very friendly and won’t bark to alert the entire hotel.”

  Now she had to laugh out loud. “I wouldn’t want to do that, of course. Thank you, Inspector.”

  Jasper paused. He hadn’t said he had been an inspector, had he? But perhaps she assumed everyone in Scotland Yard was an inspector. “Good night, then. Do try to sleep. Exhaustion will only make it harder.”

  She nodded. “I understand. Thank you. And good night to you too.”

  Halfway through the garden, Jasper met the husband carrying a coffee cup. He gave him a dirty look and hissed, “Stay away from my wife.”

  Jasper didn’t bother to reply.

  Chapter Seven

  Damaris woke up due to an unfamiliar sound. At first she didn’t open her eyes but just tried to listen, drowsily, to what it was. Then, as she heard it again, she did open her eyes, as if she could better focus that way.

  It was close to her. A sad sound. Subdued sobbing?

  She half turned and saw Teddy sitting on the edge of the bed. Morning light was coming through the barred window falling over his slumped shoulders. He was hiding his face in his hands.

  “What’s the matter?” She reached out and put her hand on his back. As she felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric, memories filled her head: of the first time he had taken her hand, their first kiss, his proposal where he had swept her up into his arms, and their wedding night.

  Teddy sat very still. “I ruined everything,” he said in a smothered voice. “I can never face you again.”

  “Nonsense. You weren’t yourself last night.” She pushed herself up and sat on the bed close behind him, moving her hand to his shoulder. It was tight with tension. She squeezed. “I know you weren’t yourself.”

  “It was Gideon,” Teddy said. “He just wouldn’t stop taunting me.”

  “Taunting?” Damaris echoed, puzzled.

  “He can be so cold.” Teddy stamped his foot on the floor. “He threatened to cut me out of our business plans, everything we thought up together.”

 

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