Death of a Dancer

by Irena Nieslony

  I’m too late again, Taylor thought. I’ve had five months to get in touch with Rachel and yet I’ve let them slip away. How could I possibly think that she would still be free and I could have a chance with her? I’m a stupid idiot of a man. I should have struck while the iron was hot.

  Meanwhile, Rachel was having thoughts of her own.

  Josh is gorgeous, but why can’t I get Chief Inspector Taylor out of my mind. I mean, he waltzed in here, without a smile and as cold as ice, as if we barely knew each other. No, I’m deluding myself with him. He’s a dead loss and I’m better off forgetting about him

  “Ms Fisher,” Taylor said. “I believe the guests haven’t eaten?”

  “No, .they said they’d lost their appetites.”

  “I think they may want something now. Perhaps a buffet so they can pick at the food in-between interviews?”

  “Alright,” Rachel agreed reluctantly, knowing André wouldn’t be too happy.

  Taylor looked around the room while Rachel was gone and was very surprised to see Arthur and Joan. Were the Robertsons there just to be nosey? They were probably reveling in the fact that something had gone so terribly wrong for Rachel.

  Rachel came back looking flustered.

  “Well that wasn’t easy. André wasn’t happy about the buffet idea, but he acquiesced. I hope I don’t lose him over this as he is an excellent chef.”

  “I’m sorry that this has happened, Ms Fisher,” Taylor said.

  Rachel tried to smile, but was finding it increasingly hard.

  Taylor noticed that Charles was just staring at him now. After his fight with Percy, all his energy seemed to have slipped away. The Chief Inspector decided it was about time he started the interviews.

  “Ms Fisher, would you be my first interviewee. I’d like a full account of what happened this evening before I question everybody else. I don’t know where the best place to go would be.”

  “I suggest the sitting room.”

  “The pathologist’s here,” Helen interrupted.

  “Oh, alright,” Taylor said. “I’ll be back shortly, Ms Fisher.”

  * * *

  About twenty minutes later, Taylor went to the sitting room and sat with Rachel. She had been getting very fed up of waiting, not to mention worried about her guests. In the end she had rung up Sarah to see how the buffet was coming on. Luckily Sarah, who was in the kitchen, said it was looking good and that André had calmed down and was putting his all into preparing the food. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. But then she thought about Jane’s birthday cake. What a waste. She knew that this was a stupid thing to focus on, but Rachel couldn’t think straight. She could only concentrate on silly petty things like the cake and all the bottles of pink champagne Carlotta and Jane wanted to serve with it. A couple of tears fell.

  “A penny for your thoughts,” a voice said.

  Rachel looked up and for the first time that evening she saw Chief Inspector Taylor smile. Her heart started racing and her face felt hot.

  “Oh, I was just thinking of silly things, Chief Inspector. It’s all been a bit of a shock. I always admired Jane. She and Carlotta were dancers and I used to love to watch them perform.”

  “I see.” Taylor said, resuming his formal tone.

  Rachel felt disappointed. For a moment she had almost had a glimpse of a different Taylor, the Taylor she had almost fallen in love with.

  “I was so pleased she wanted to celebrate her sixtieth birthday here. I can’t believe someone wanted her dead.”

  “Was anyone else staying the night?”

  “Most of them were staying the weekend at the hotel apart from Diana and Bert Rackham and their son, Josh.”

  Rachel noticed that the Chief Inspector was taking everything down.

  “And who were the other guests, Ms Fisher?”

  “There was their daughter, Catherine, and her husband, Ben Johnson, and then some friends of the Simpsons, Carly and Chris Hawkins and Percy Wilkinson.”

  “I couldn’t help but notice that Arthur Robertson is here”

  “Yes, he and his wife are staying the weekend. Just nosiness I reckon. Uncle Sam is also here for the weekend. And the other couple are Americans on holiday, Walt and Evelyn Edwards.”

  “The hotel’s doing very well. Ms Fisher.”

  Rachel tried to smile, Josh’s words coming back to haunt her. What would this do to her business? Chief Inspector Taylor could almost read her mind.

  “You’ll probably get a lot more bookings now,” he said. “People do have a liking for the macabre.”

  “Really?” Rachel asked. “Josh seemed to think it would ruin my hotel.”

  So that was Josh. Taylor thought jealously, but of course didn’t utter a word that he was feeling.

  “So, Ms Fisher, can you tell me everything that happened leading up to Mrs. Simpson’s death.”

  “Well, pre-dinner drinks and canapés for the birthday party were served in the bar from six thirty onwards. Josh Simpson and Diana and Bert Rackham, all of whom weren’t staying the weekend, arrived around half six. Josh was first and the Rackhams came shortly after. I answered the door to both. I think most of the guests stayed drinking in the bar until eight thirty when dinner was to be served. However, some of the guests did wander out of the bar at times. I guess they went back upstairs to freshen up for dinner. I was in and out of the bar and can’t really remember who went out when, apart from Jane herself. She definitely left at seven fifty. I looked at my watch at that very moment, checking how long it was until dinner.”

  “That’s good,” Taylor responded. “We’ll now have a pretty accurate time of death.”

  “Anyway,” Rachel continued, “at just before eight thirty, everyone started to file into the dining room for dinner, everybody that is, apart from Jane. Charles started to get a little annoyed and that’s when he sent his son, Josh, upstairs to find his mother, but instead he found her body.”

  Taylor looked out of the window and saw an ambulance drawing up. They must have come to take away the body. He then looked back at Rachel who was shivering despite the central heating and a fire blazing in the hearth.

  The Chief Inspector wanted to put his arms around her and tell her it would all be alright, but he didn’t dare. It would be most inappropriate and also there was obviously something going on between her and Josh Simpson. Why was he always too late to capture Rachel’s heart?

  “Before I start questioning the other guests, is there anything else you can think of telling me, Ms Fisher?” he asked instead.

  “No... Oh yes, there is something. Charles and Percy Wilkinson had a fight and my Uncle Sam and Josh had to separate them.”

  “A fight? Whatever about?”

  “Percy admitted that he and Jane were having an affair and that she was going to leave Charles for him.”

  “Well that’s very interesting, I must say. Thank you, Ms Fisher. You’ve been very helpful.”

  “Please call me Rachel. After all we have known each other for a while.”

  Taylor nodded, cheering up immediately. Perhaps it wasn’t too late for them after all. However, now he had to concentrate on questioning the other guests, so he excused himself as he went to get the next person to interview.

  Rachel sadly watched Taylor leave. She had hoped he would ask her to call him Peter, but he hadn’t. No, there was no hope for a relationship between them, but did it really matter? She had met someone else who was making her pulse race. She knew she would never have even given the Chief Inspector another thought if he hadn’t turned up that evening

  Yes, Josh was more her type; after all they were both in show business. He seemed keen on her and it was about time she gave a new relationship a try. She had been scared of giving a new man a chance since James, but Josh wasn’t anything like James. To top it all, he was very good looking; knee trembling, heart racing, swooning type of handsome, so yes, she would have dinner with him and see how it went.

  * * *

  “I believe
your wife left the bar to go upstairs at seven fifty this evening, Mr. Simpson?”

  “It was about that time I guess. I wasn’t looking at the clock.”

  “And you, where were you between that time and when you went to your room and saw that she’d been murdered?”

  “I was in the bar until we went into the dining room at eight thirty. You can ask my son-in-law, Ben Johnson. We were having a long discussion before we went in for dinner. Oh, wait; I did pop to my car just before dinner to get Jane’s birthday present. I’d hidden it in the boot.”

  “She hadn’t noticed it before then? For example, when you were taking the luggage out?”

  “No, it was small. A necklace.”

  “Did you see anyone leave the bar after seven fifty?” Taylor continued.

  “Percy Wilkinson. He’s the killer; I’m sure of it. He and Jane were having an affair and I bet he killed her because she wouldn’t leave me.... Oh my God, Jan.”

  “Sorry, sir?”

  “Jane went upstairs as she was expecting a call from Jan in India. Jan’s her daughter from her first marriage. I don’t know if they spoke.”

  “Can you ring Jan? It may give us an even better idea of what time your wife might have died.”

  Charles nodded and went into a corner to ring Jan. He wasn’t looking forward to giving her the bad news.

  Taylor went through his notes while he was waiting and ten minutes later, Charles came back.

  “That was particularly hard,” he said. “I don’t know how you police do it all the time. Jan did talk to Jane. She says it was ten past eight our time when she finished talking to her mother.... You know what Chief Inspector, I’m even more certain now it was Percy. As I said he didn’t stay in the bar until eight thirty and after he left, he didn’t come back in, but went straight into the dining room where most of us already were. He was a bit out of breath.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Simpson,” Taylor said, sounding non-committal. “We will be questioning him.”

  “It’s that Percy, mark my words. He said Jane was going to leave me. She wasn’t. She loved me.”

  “Yet she had an affair.”

  “Jane was a free spirit. She had affairs. I know that, but she loved me and never wanted to leave me. I had to accept her affairs or lose her. However, I wasn’t going to sit by and let that awful man tell lies. She would never have left me for Percy. Never.”

  * * *

  “Charles went for me first,” Percy said. “He couldn’t accept that Jane was going to leave him for me.”

  “Charles is adamant that Jane would never have left him, sir,” Taylor stated.

  “He’s delusional. Jane and I were very much in love.”

  “Yet neither you nor Charles seem that upset. You both only want to get one up on the other.”

  “Why you...”

  Percy stopped as he saw Sergeant Wilson, who had now rejoined her boss, moving towards him. Taylor also got up and Percy felt intimidated by his height, he being only five foot seven. He was also starting to get arthritis in his hands and knew they could overpower him if he started a fight.

  “Did you leave the bar at all between eight ten and eight thirty, Mr. Wilkinson?”

  “No. I stayed put.”

  “Mr. Simpson says you left sometime after seven fifty and didn’t come back until you went into the dining room for dinner.”

  “Oh yes, I had forgotten about that. I needed to use the bathroom so I went upstairs to my room. I was feeling a bit weary so I sat down for a few moments, but then I dropped off. When I woke up it had already gone eight thirty so I rushed downstairs. I was quite out of breath when I got there.”

  “I think that will be all for now, Mr. Wilkinson. You may join the other guests.”

  “Can’t I go to bed?”

  “Not quite yet, but hopefully it won’t be too long.”

  As soon as he had left, Helen turned to Taylor and spoke.

  “Are we interviewing Ms Fisher next?”

  “I’ve already done that,” Taylor replied.

  Helen felt the anger mount up inside. Was her boss still attracted to that woman? She wouldn’t stand for it. No, something would have to be done and soon.

  * * *

  Taylor decided to interview Charles and Jane’s daughter, Catherine, next, together with her husband, Ben.

  “I know this has been a terrible shock for you, Mrs. Johnson, but I have to ask where you were between eight ten and eight thirty this evening?” Taylor asked. “Your mother finished talking to your sister, Jan, in India at ten past eight so we know she was alive then.”

  “Surely you don’t think Catherine killed her own mother do you Chief Inspector?” Ben asked gruffly.

  “These questions are just routine, sir.”

  “I was in the bar,” Catherine stated, the odd tear still falling. “I popped back to my room at about seven thirty, but I was back down in fifteen minutes.”

  “And I can verify that. I was in the bar all the time, from six thirty until we went into the dining room at eight thirty,” Ben carried on. “I spent a long time talking to my father-in-law.

  “Josh had monopolized mum all that day,” Catherine went on, becoming agitated. “He always has to be the centre of attention with our parents, always has done, ever since he was a little boy. I had so many things I wanted to talk to mum about this weekend. Now I won’t have the chance and it’s all because of him.”

  “Calm down, darling,” Ben said.

  “I won’t. I’m too upset.”

  Taylor thought she was acting a little childlike and thought it highly unlikely that she would have committed the murder, unless of course, she was pretending to be so immature. But why would a girl want to kill her own mother? The idea seemed farfetched, but it did happen.

  “That’s all for the moment I think,” Taylor said.” Could you send in your brother, please, Mrs. Johnson.

  Catherine nodded as she and Ben got up to leave the room.

  Moments later, Josh came in. Taylor was not looking forward to conducting the interview. He looked at Josh and all he could imagine was this man’s arms around Rachel. He knew he had to get thoughts like this out of his mind. It did no good bringing personal feelings to a case.

  “Mr. Simpson, I believe you were one of the few guests who weren’t staying at the hotel.”

  “That’s right. I’m a music producer and I’m very busy. However, I did have to make time for mum’s birthday. Had to do a little shuffling around, but luckily I made it. I’d have hated not to have seen her before ... you know.”

  Taylor took an instant dislike to the man. He talked as if he had done his mother a favor by coming to her party.

  “Can you tell me what you were doing between eight ten and eight thirty, sir?” Taylor continued, trying to keep his temper in check.

  “I had to pop out to see my half-brother, Ed, about that time. He had driven over with some papers for me to sign. We’re in business together. When I got back to the bar, everyone had gone into dinner. Dad asked me to go looking for mum as she was the only person not there, so I went up to their room. That’s when I found her... you know, dead. I pretty much collapsed. Mum and I were very close. When I didn’t return to the dining room, dad came upstairs. Eventually, we both went back down and told everybody.”

  Taylor thought what a cold man Josh Simpson was. He may have broken down on seeing his mother dead, but he didn’t seem the least bit upset now, quite unlike his sister.

  “Is that it?” Josh asked.

  “For the moment. I’d rather you didn’t go home yet though.”

  “What sort of a man do you think I am? I shall stay over with my father. He needs my support, as does my sister. Catherine and I are very close.”

  Taylor felt a little guilty for assuming the worst abut Josh, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t like the man. And what was this about Josh and Catherine being close? He certainly didn’t get that impression from Catherine; quite the opposite in fact.


  “Oh, by the way, could we have your half-brother’s name and telephone number. We need to verify your story.”

  “You may. I guess that you think I killed my own mother then?”

  “Everybody here is a suspect at the moment,” Taylor replied. “Just give the details to my Sergeant and send in Carlotta Fox please.”

  Josh sighed as he got up and Taylor smiled to himself. Josh didn’t like being told what to do, bur today he’d have to put up with it.

  * * *

  A few minutes later, a tear stained Carlotta Fox came in.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fox, were you and Mrs. Simpson close?”

  “Yes, we were. We were dancers together when we were much younger and we have, or should I say had, been great friends since then. I don’t have many women friends, Chief Inspector, but Jane was different. She understood me and I, her. I shall miss her greatly.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Mrs. Fox,” Taylor spoke sympathetically.

  The Chief Inspector liked Carlotta even though he had never approved of her having an affair with John Robertson. Taylor admired her for always speaking her mind.

  “I expect you’re going to ask me where I was when Jane was out of the bar, Chief Inspector.”

  “Yes,” Taylor replied, not really minding Carlotta taking over.

  “Unfortunately, I am one of your chief suspects. About five minutes after Jane left the bar, I too went upstairs to freshen up. I came down at about eight twenty and went straight into the dining room ready for dinner. There is nobody that can verify my story.”

  ‘Thank you, Mrs. Fox,” Taylor replied, doubtful that it was her who killed her friend.

  “The last person I expected to see today was you, Chief Inspector. It brings back memories, too many memories.”

  “Do you still see John Robertson?”

  “Yes, I visit him in prison. I’m afraid it doesn’t agree with him. But enough of him, I expect you are pleased to see Rachel again.”

  “Wha...What do you mean?” Taylor asked incredulously.

  “I know you have a soft spot for her, Chief Inspector.”