Strawberry Sprinkled Swirl Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 49

by Gillard, Susan

  “Oh, sure,” Dylan said. “The police asked me a few things already. You have some questions too? Are you reporters?”

  “We’re private investigators working with the Hillside Police,” Heather said. She took out her identification to show him and was pleased that he looked impressed.

  “That’s pretty cool,” he said. “Do I know something that I don’t know and now you have to uncover it.”

  “We did discover some new information last night and need to follow up on it. But why don’t we start at the beginning?”

  Dylan nodded as Amy set her tablet up on the concierge desk to take her notes.

  “Had you met Norton Worthers before he checked into the hotel?”

  “Me meet a millionaire?” He said. “No way. His checking in was the first I ever met him.”

  “What time did he check in?” She asked.

  Dylan checked the computer. “Two fifty-six. I mean six fifty-two. No, six twenty-five. Sorry. Numbers get a little twisted in my head sometimes.”

  Amy subtlety looked over the counter to peek at the computer. She nodded, confirming that the last time was correct.

  “What did he say when he checked in?” Heather asked. “Anything of interest?”

  “I just asked if he needed anything and he said no. He mentioned that he already ate dinner and was going to call it an early night. Then I never saw him again.”

  “Did he talk to anyone in the lobby?”

  “One man tried to talk to him, but Mr. Worthers wouldn’t have it and walked away. That was the man in B41. I mean B14. Mr. Gray.”

  “And he didn’t speak to anyone else?” Heather asked.

  “No. He ignored everyone else in the lobby. Let’s see. Who was there? There were B5 and B7. Or B7 and B5. Actually, I didn’t say their names, so that flip wasn’t a mistake.”

  “Why don’t we stick to names?” Heather asked.

  “Okay. So Miss Wright and Mr. Delon were in the lobby sorting their baggage. Whose was whose, I guess. That was kind of awkward because they were pretending they weren’t together, but they got adjoining rooms. And why would her coat be in his bag?”

  “Anyone else?”

  “No guests. Just the handyman George Copper. Mr. Worthers walked right past all of them without saying a word.”

  “And you gave Mr. Worthers his key?”

  “Yes. He checked in, and I have him the key to,” he thought about it and then said, “A10.”

  “You’re sure about that?” Amy asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of her voice.

  “I might confuse little things, but I always give the right room.”

  “Would you mind if we saw the other keys?’ Heather asked as politely as possible.

  “Fine,” Dylan said. “But I am good at my job, really.”

  He revealed a black box with a 3-digit locked code on it. It took him a few tries, but he unlocked it and showed them the contents. The keys for rooms A01 and B10 were still there. It looked like the hadn’t made a mistake with handing out Mr. Worthers’s key. That had been a longshot anyway, but Heather wanted to make sure that she followed all possible leads.

  She noticed that Amy was typing away, recording all the key numbers and corresponding rooms. Heather smiled. That was a good idea. They could match the missing keys to the guest register and make sure that no one had a key they weren’t supposed to.

  Though as Heather checked the box, she realized that all the keys for the A hallway were still there. It appeared that Norton Worthers really did have the private hallway he requested.

  “Who has access to these keys?” Heather asked.

  “All the staff does,” Dylan said.

  “So anyone who works here could have gotten a key to the rooms?”

  “Well, if it was in the box,” Dylan said. “Once a guest gets their key, you need Ms. Humly to unlock the door.”

  “You all know the code to get into the box?”

  “Sure. George Copper might need to go into a room to fix something, and Lisette needs keys to clean the rooms after a guest has checked out.”

  That reminded Heather of something. “Does the staff have set hours to work?”

  “It varies a little if there’s an event or if Ms. Humly needs to go to an appointment or something. I’m normally a midday shift on weekdays. She’s going to hire someone for weekends, so she won’t have to do it all. Then George Copper gets to make his own schedule a bit. Unless he gets called in for an emergency. I think he’s salaried because he’s been here forever. Lisette is more of a morning person because that’s when people check out of their rooms.”

  “She works the morning shift?” Heather wanted to confirm.

  “Right.”

  “So there would be no reason for her to be here at ten o’clock at night?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Amy refrained from making sure that he was thinking of the right time and didn’t transpose the numbers in that. Heather thanked him for his help, and the two of them walked away.

  “He doesn’t seem to have a motive,” Amy said.

  “Agreed,” said Heather. “But I think the maid has risen on our suspect list. We should go talk to her.”

  “That’s fine. We can talk to the maid,” Amy said. “Just as long as the butler didn’t do it.”

  Chapter 12

  Lisette Petit was from France. Amy could not get over the fact that they were speaking to a French maid. She had trouble containing her giggles and had to hide her face behind the tablet for taking notes.

  Lisette only had a slight accent, but it would appear every so often. It was just enough to remind Amy that they were talking to a real French maid. The outfits were different from what would be expected though. Lisette was wearing an apron over jeans and t-shirt, along with some sneakers. She was not happy to talk with the investigators.

  “I do not understand why I am being persecuted,” Lisette huffed.

  “We’re not persecuting you,” Heather said. “We just have a few questions.”

  “Because a murder was committed and you ‘zink that I had something to do with it. I am not a killer.”

  “We’re not saying you are,” Heather said. She was interrupted before she could say anything else.

  “I came here with my parents when I was still a child. I am a citizen now. I do not wish to be harassed.”

  “We’re questioning everyone, and that is because a murder was committed,” Heather said more forcefully. “We just want to know where you were the night of the murder.”

  “I was home all night. After work at 6, I went home and enjoyed a nice meal and a glass of wine.”

  “We have reason to believe that you were here that night,” Heather said.

  “Why? You think I was sleeping with Mr. Worthers? Because I am French?”

  “We think you were in the hallway,” Heather said. “Because a witness said he saw a maid. You said you got off work at six, but this was a ten p.m.”

  “I see. And you believe ‘zis witness?”

  “There’s no reason for him to lie,” Heather said pleasantly.

  “Perhaps he is the killer.”

  Heather shook her head. Lisette relented. “All right, I did return to the hotel. I did not wish to tell anyone because I did not want to be accused of anything.”

  “What were you doing there?”

  “I wasn’t killing anyone. Truly, I was not.” Lisette began to look panicked. “You cannot frame me for something I did not do.”

  “Mr. Worthers was killed later in the night,” Heather said, trying to stem the panic before it resulted in tears. “But what were you doing there at ten?”

  “I forgot my cell phone, and I came back to retrieve it,” Lisette said.

  “Why was your cell phone in the hallway that no one booked?” Heather asked.

  “Because,” Lisette said. “I was watching TV in one of those rooms where I thought I would not be bothered. I don’t usually ignore my work, but I was having such
a bad day. I had just broken up with a lover. So I watched trashy reality TV in one of the rooms and ate chocolate. I was also charging my phone, and I must have left it there when I realized that I did have a room to clean. Please do not tell Ms. Humly. I would not wish to disappoint her. I never took my lover into the rooms. Only my ennui.”

  “How did you get a key?”

  “I can take a key when I clean a room. I merely took one for A18 to watch TV that day and returned it when I returned the other cleaning keys. I had to return to the desk and take it out that night when I searched my cell phone. I felt so silly.”

  “Did you notice anything strange in the hallway when you left?”

  “No,” Lisette said. “It was possible that there was a guest in the hall, but he didn’t do anything to make me ‘zink he was suspicious.”

  “Had you met Mr. Worthers before he checked in?”

  “I have never met Mr. Worthers. I knew he was in the hotel, but I did not run into him. I know nothing about this man except that they say he is rich.”

  “And that he was murdered,” Heather said.

  “Yes, that too.”

  “You went home after you found your phone?”

  “Yes,” Lisette said. “Perhaps you could trace the phone or something and see that I am telling the truth?”

  “Thank you for your time,’ Heather said.

  Lisette walked away, looking sad, but set on doing her job and cleaning. When she was gone, Amy burst into a fit of laughter. It was contagious, and Heather joined in.

  “I can’t believe we were speaking to a French maid,” Amy said. “I know I find it funnier than I should, but I find it hilarious.”

  Heather continued to laugh with her friend and then let her thoughts turn to her time in France on her honeymoon. It had been very romantic except for the murder case that had popped up and needed to be solved. That was all right though; she and Ryan made a good team in more than one way.

  She turned her thoughts back to Lisette. She focused on what she said instead of the French-maid-ness. Her return for her cell phone did explain what she was doing there at the time.

  It seemed that even though the staff had access to the keys, they had no motive to kill Mr. Worthers. Also, Heather reminded herself, they wouldn’t have access to those keys after Mr. Worthers took them into his room. They would have to have stolen Caroline’s keys.

  “All right,” Amy said. “I think I’m calm now. No more giggles.”

  “Good,” Heather said. “Because I think we need to talk to the boss again.”

  They set off in search of Caroline, with only a few little giggles still escaping from Amy.

  Chapter 13

  “I don’t understand,” Caroline said. “How did the killer get inside?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Heather said.

  She and Amy were sitting in the office again with Caroline and George Copper.

  “George, there’s no holes in the wall covered by furniture or anything like that?”

  “No, Ms. Humly,” he said. “I don’t see how the killer could have gotten in.”

  “Unless he had you key,” Heather said.

  “But I had my keys on me. I told you that. There must be another way inside.”

  Heather recapped what they knew so far. “Mr. Worthers had his copy of the key with him inside his room.”

  “Maybe the killer left it there?’ Caroline asked.

  Heather shook her head. “Norton Worthers needed the key in order to get into the room himself. He’d have to throw the key out the door after he unlocked it in order for the killer to follow him inside with that key. It’s much more likely that he unlocked the door and brought it inside with him.”

  “Could he have just let the killer inside? Maybe it was someone he knew?” Caroline said, thinking she had uncovered something.

  Heather shook her head again. They had several reasons why this was not the case. “The police checked backgrounds on all the guests, and no one had a connection to Worthers.”

  “Plus, Mr. Worthers was grumpy and didn’t want to talk to anyone,” Amy added. “He wouldn’t have just let someone inside his room.”

  “But the most convincing argument against that is that Mr. Worthers was taking sleeping pills. He wouldn’t have heard someone knocking in the middle of the night. So he couldn’t have let them in.”

  “He couldn’t have left his door unlocked by mistake?” Caroline asked, turning to George Copper, even though she knew the answer.

  “No. The door re-lock by themselves after they close,” he answered. “It’s a safety mechanism.”

  “Then I don’t see how the killer got in,” Caroline said stubbornly.

  “He must have taken your key,” Heather said. “Was there any time that it was unaccounted for?”

  “No, it was in my pocket the whole night. I always have my keys on me.”

  “Then maybe you’re the killer?” Amy said.

  “You can’t think that,” Caroline said. “This murder is the worst thing that ever happened to me. I’m sorry if that sounds callous because I do know that this was the worst thing that ever happened to Norton Worthers too. But this could ruin my hotel.”

  “You did know him before he came to speak here. And you were the one who arranged it,” Amy continued.

  “Yes, but that was because my first choice fell through.”

  “If this was a monthly meeting, you could have been saving him for later. You would wait until the event became more established and then invite him over to kill him at a later date.”

  “There was no reason for me to want him dead. I didn’t know him well. And I had fond memories of him from that time. Right, George?”

  “He wasn’t at the hotel all that often then,” George Copper replied. “But he was nice enough.”

  “There was no reason for me to want him dead. And him dying in my hotel makes things a million times more complicated for me,” Caroline said. “I took your advice and was trying to reschedule my Business Breakfast for later in the week. Hit the ground running sort of thing. But my pancake man is dubious about being a speaker now that the first one has been killed. And which guests will come back?”

  “I think I know two that would come back with any excuse,” Amy muttered, referring to the couple in the secret interoffice affair.

  “Ms. Humly, if you didn’t kill him, then someone must have taken your key to commit the deed,” Heather said.

  “I understand what you’re saying,” Caroline said. “But you have to understand me; I had my keys the whole time. And I didn’t use them to sneak into a room and smother my most important guest.”

  “There are some very talented pickpockets,” Heather said.

  “That’s true. But they’re not on my staff, and you don’t believe a guest did it.”

  “Maybe the killer only took the A10 key and put the rest of the ring back. Then there would still be weight in your pocket, and it would feel like all the keys are there. Then he replaced the key before you looked at the numbers,” Heather said.

  “It is possible,” Caroline admitted. “But I need to press on you how paranoid I am about these keys. I check on them all the time.”

  “I see her do it,” George Copper confirmed. “I wouldn’t think it was possible to pry one away from her.”

  “I touch my pocket all day to make sure they are there. And I randomly go through and make sure they are all there, but going checking the numbers in order. I knew how important these keys were before there was a murder.”

  “I think we’re still going to have to look into a potential theft of these keys,” Heather said. “The only thing that makes sense is that your key opened the door. It was either you or someone else.”

  Caroline shook her head, but then said, “Look into whatever you need to. I want this killer caught more than anybody.”

  Heather thanked her and was about to leave when Caroline just had to say one more time, “I just don’t be
lieve my key opened the door to commit the murder.”

  “It had to be,” Heather said. “Unless the killer was a ghost.”

  “That could work for the haunted idea I was suggesting before,” Amy said to Caroline who wasn’t smiling.

  “A ghost,” George Copper said. “Or an Act of God.”

  “An Act of God?” Heather asked. She wasn’t sure if George Copper was referring to the legal definition or true divine intervention of a malevolent nature.