Murder in the Grand Manor

by Tom Hoke

  A canvas chair flew by and he picked it out of the air and tried dodging a couple more of the same. Opening the outside door of the hotel, he thrust the chair and a small table that landed beside him into the narrow space separating the outside door from the lobby.

  Now he could see why the double door protection. Grabbing a hunk of canvas around a shattered wooden frame, which must have originally been some sort of chaise lounge, he stuck it inside too. Then he turned as he heard a shout from the direction of the water.

  Two men were pushing toward him with the wind. He looked up over their heads and saw the Man-o'war birds swooping above. Tribbles were right. They had scissor tails and were solid black. Lena was right too. They looked ominous. But what she hadn't said was these birds had a seven foot wing span!

  Jim braced and went to meet the men. Behind them, on the road, was an amphibious duck.

  Salt spray leapt at his face as he leaned into the wind.

  One of the men looked like a tugboat captain.

  He was short and squat, with a deeply sunburned face and graying windblown hair.

  The other was taller and younger, with great muscular shoulders and bright blue eyes.

  Tattoos ran up and down his arms. His hair was long and wild and black. The older man's shirt was plastered to his body. The younger one was barefoot and shirtless.

  "Everything all right here?" one of them shouted. They weren't talking about him, personally. He got that in a hurry. They were looking at the hotel. Jim looked back at it too and should have given it a double-take. But that's twenty-twenty hindsight. He turned to them and nodded. It seemed hardly worthwhile to waste his breath against the wind.

  "I see you've got company," the older one yelled, pointing at the cars in front of the hotel.

  "I thought the place was abandoned. It's around town…doctor says Mrs. Benning died.

  How many people are in the joint?"

  Jim tried to come up with a reasonable answer, "About ten, I guess," he shouted back.

  This might or might not be true. "Who are you?" he countered.

  "Civil Defense," the younger man yelled.

  "You're high here. Keep them inside or they might get hurt! We got to get a bunch of diehards off the point into the school building.

  They never learn. We'll try to check with you later. You won't get water in the hotel, but we'll be getting the outer winds soon. Look out for the snakes tomorrow." They backed away, but the older man cupped his hands and shouted, "You better get those cars around back and away from the trees." They turned and struggled toward the road.

  If these weren't the outer winds, Jim could scarcely wait until they arrived. What was it with the snakes?

  Tiles began raining off the roof. A huge limb tore loose from a live oak tree and crashed onto the roof of a car. Jim hoped it belonged to the two salesmen and not the Tribbles. He hadn't seen this car when he had come in earlier. That limb turned a hardtop into a convertible in nothing flat. Civil Defense had something on the ball. The front part of the hotel was not exactly the place to leave a car.

  Crawling into his rental car, he drove along the south side of the hotel past the door of the bar.

  He remembered the shed he had seen the night before and drove the car behind it. He wasn't the only one with the same idea. He parked behind the shed next to the car Jerry Duprey had driven the night before.

  Jim fumbled his way to the back door of the long side of the hotel and went into the first floor hall. As luck would have it, he ran into Aunt Annie near the lobby. She solved a problem.

  "Get their car keys," he said breathlessly. "I want to move those cars to the back of the hotel as fast as I can right now." She nodded and scurried away. There was no time to explain to each owner, or discuss the fate of the smashed car. He went into the lobby.

  Leddon was still anchored to the desk. Mrs.

  Tribble was scrambling through a drawer in the dining room. Jim lit up a cigarette and leaned against the elevator cage wondering why he had to be a hero. Aunt Annie rushed into the lobby with the groom right behind her.

  "Mr. Collson will help you with the cars, Charlie. He has the keys". Then she added,

  "Wait a minute," and ran toward the kitchen and came back with one more set of keys.

  Obviously these belonged to the man in the shorts. "His is the green Chevy," she said. "Be careful boys."

  The groom looked disgusted. "It was my idea to come south," he allowed. "And now I'm a parking lot attendant. I guess it's better than bathroom duty with those two salesmen."

  "Well, let's get it over with," Jim suggested.

  "I'll move the green Chevy, and you get the right keys in the right cars. I might as well tell you somebody's out one car. Follow me around the south side of the hotel and park them back of the shed. It's more or less out of the wind and away from the trees."

  Jim left him sorting keys and moved the Chevy. He switched on the radio and wished he had not done so. "Expecting winds of one hundred and fifty in the bay area…," the radio announced. He turned the radio off and parked the car beside his. He groped his way back to the front of the hotel and leaned in the car window where the groom was turning the key in an outdated Oldsmobile. "You take two, and I'll take the rest. Leave the keys in the locks in case we have to get out of the hotel.

  There's a back door in the middle of the hotel."

  No use in giving him the pitch on the wind.

  Maybe they might do well to keep the able-bodied males able.

  The groom nodded and drove off. Jim followed and waited for him to bring the next car. Then he pointed toward the back door.

  Jim had a reason for getting the guy inside beside his health. There was a light he had not seen before in the small window of the shed. It was dimmed by the dust on the glass, and he was sure the groom hadn't noticed it. He took off for the back door, and Jim gave him a few minutes before he looked through the window.

  He wondered who in the world would pick this shed for a hurricane buffer. He found out.

  In the middle of the unpainted shed was the guy who had played watchdog across from Aunt Annie's room. He had a lantern beside him on an old crate. It threw a big burly shadow against the side of the shed. Half the room was blocked off by another room with the door closed. This must have kept him from hearing them move the cars. He was methodically digging up the ground that formed the floor of the shed.

  Suddenly he leaned on the shovel and looked toward Jim. Jim drew back from the window and watched. The man's lips were moving, but he wasn't talking to anyone. Jim made out a door to the left of the window. He was talking to someone Jim couldn't see, someone just inside the door. The man nodded, wiped sweat from his face, and went back to digging.

  The door opened, and Jim slipped back of the shed. Peering out he saw no one. Darkness and a beginning splatter of rain shrouded whoever had left the shed.

  He had more cars to move. The watchdog would have to dig by himself. At least he couldn't get far away in the middle of a hurricane.

  The back of the hotel was bleak and bare with only a small light at the corner of the building.

  It didn't offer much. Jim felt his way, seeing a rush of car lights on the highway heading east across the bridge. He wondered what the guy was digging for as he headed around the side of the hotel again. Then the wind hit him, trying to flatten him out against the front of the building. Bertha took precedence over the digging, the destruction of Mrs. Benning's property, and Jerry Duprey.

  After he moved the last car, he rechecked the front of the hotel, dragged open the front door, and shoved it closed with all his strength. For once he had a break. He leaned against the inside door and heard the rain lash at the windows behind him. This was no little blow.

  It was the real thing.

  Aunt Annie had changed into a more suitable garb for hurricanes, some sort of a jumpsuit, a nice dark green. She looked up, nodded, and continued unrolling streamers of masking tape.

  Cutting the
masking tape into foot long pieces, she was fastening them at one end to the edge of the desk. Leddon was helping her, but his movements were unnaturally awkward. Jim looked at him, wondering how an arrogant, insulting room clerk could turn into a robot in such a short time. Everything he did was purely mechanical.

  Jim’s eyes went to the dining room. Mrs.

  Tribble was routing out candles which she dumped on a table. Lena must have done a quick switch, because she rushed down the stairs dressed in blue striped overalls, embellished with a red and white checkered shirt. Now she had a pith helmet, which did make some sense. The ladies had unearthed candles that ran the gamut from pale pink to light green, probably for Easter, to dark red and green, no doubt for Christmas. They all had been burned to various lengths.

  Then, over the roaring wind and lashing rain came a series of involuntary screams, raising the hair on the back of his neck. They were high pitched and hysterical, and they came from the kitchen. Apparently the bride had run into difficulties. Lena and Mrs. Tribble looked like they were playing statue when the screams hit them.

  Jim took the dining room steps in one leap, slipped and recovered. Dashing past the candle hunters into the kitchen, he saw the guy with the shorts standing at the back door with a large can in his hand. He was apparently as frozen as Lena and Mrs. Tribble.

  Pots of all shapes and sizes were filled with water on the sink board. So far the bride had done her work well. Jim found her in the big old fashioned pantry. She had stopped her involuntary screaming, but he could hear an

  "Ahhhh" from the corner of the room. She was staring down into a deep freeze with both hands holding up the lid. Her face was white and she seemed to be struggling for control.

  But her hands were unable to let go of the deep freeze door.

  Jim had always resisted buying a deep freeze such as this one, because to him, they resembled a coffin. This one was. He stood beside the bride and looked down into the freezer. It was empty of food, but it was filled with the revolting body of the fat bellboy with a bullet hole in his neck.

  Hurricanes Jim did not and would never understand. But bodies cropped up every so often in his trade. He took the girl's hands firmly off the lid and let the door swing down.

  Then he closed the lock on it and turned to the bride.

  A little color came into her face. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Just as he thought, she had stamina. But brides and bodies are not exactly compatible. She jammed her hands into the pockets of her dress and bit her lip.

  Jim said quickly, "Forget it, Mrs. Collson. I'll explain later. Keep it quiet."

  The guy in the shorts tore into the pantry and grabbed her shoulder. He had been a little slow in answering her screams. It so happened this was a good thing. He seemed to like the feel of her shoulder.

  "What's the matter, babe?" he gasped.

  Jim shook his head at her, and she gave him a small nod although her pupils were sill dilated with fright. "A mouse!" she explained to the new arrival. "I'm deadly afraid of them!" She tried to smile. "May I have a cigarette?" This was for Jim.

  Jim put two cigarettes in his mouth, lit them, and handed her one. She took it with fingers that scarcely trembled.

  About this time Aunt Annie and Mrs. Tribble rushed into the pantry neck and neck. Aunt Annie, still holding the roll of masking tape, stopped just inside the door. She drew herself up and addressed the man in the shorts sharply.

  "Unhand that girl, young man!" she commanded. "A fine time you chose to attack a defenseless girl!" Jim’s better instincts told him Mrs. Collson was anything but defenseless.

  "What's going on around here?" Aunt Annie asked. She took a step toward the freezer.

  The guy in the shorts turned scarlet, which proved what was going on in his mind. He took his hand off the girl's shoulder as if it scorched his fingers. Jim leaned on the freezer.

  The girl came though nicely. "A mouse, that's all. I'm scared to death of them. I'm sorry about the screaming." A mouse wouldn't have turned a hair on her blonde head. But a dead body would, and that's fairly understandable.

  By this time the whole lot had joined them, except for George, who was probably guarding the bar. Counting noses, Jim realized Leddon, in his apathetic state was still in the lobby, but there was a fair turnout in the pantry. The groom pushed his way through and demanded an explanation. When his brand new bride explained about the mouse, he glared at Jim as if he had invented it and shooed it in her direction. He stood stalwartly beside his newly acquired helpmate who managed to look helpless. That's a woman for you.

  Aunt Annie was still in charge. "This is perfectly ridiculous! There is a lot to be done."

  Lena nodded in accordance. Aunt Annie frowned at the man in the shorts. "Go and unlock the back door, young man, and LEAVE

  IT OPEN! Tie it. I don't care how you do it.

  Do you want the whole place to cave in on us?

  Go right now!" She stamped her foot. He sneaked out like a third grader caught with the teacher's apple. Aunt Annie waved the masking tape. "Everybody to the lobby immediately!" she said.

  She strode off in the direction of the lobby, with everyone trooping after her. The two salesmen didn't have far to go. They had just made it to the kitchen door during this latest conclave.

  Mr. and Mrs. Tribble exchanged a troubled look. The man in the seersucker suit, for some reason or other, began to take on dimension.

  He seemed to be looking over the motley crew, holding back a question. Maybe all the characters that chose the Grand Manor didn't just happen into its doors for shelter.

  Lena brought up the rear guard. Jim tapped her on the shoulder. "Could I have a word with you?" he said into her ear. She faced him and nodded. "Yes?" Suddenly he felt she was very much on guard.

  "You knew Mrs. Benning pretty well, didn't you?"

  She shrugged. "I suppose so, but that was years ago. She hasn't had much to do with me for some time."

  "What about the picture in Mrs. Benning's room, Lena, the one on the east wall?"

  "I think it's a very good likeness of Edith Benning," she asserted firmly in exactly Aunt Annie's words. "You've seen it?" she asked, staring at Jim.

  "Let's get on with the plural. I've seen THEM,"

  Jim said erroneously. "There's another portrait in Mrs. Benning's room beside the door. What about it?"

  She frowned. "Oh. Maybe that's a portrait of her late husband. I wouldn't know." But who would want to destroy Mr. Benning's portrait?

  If it was all that bad, somebody should have done it long before.

  Lena's voice showed her impatience. "We have windows to tape." She grabbed up half a dozen candles from the table and marched to the lobby. Jim followed without an answer.

  Aunt Annie was peering at her weather radio in astonishment. "I am sorry to say my radio is out of batteries. It isn't the kind you can plug in," she said apologetically. "Pure carelessness on my part, but I will call the local weather bureau immediately. Then we can learn exactly where Bertha is going to make landfall." She moved with majesty to the desk.

  Her radio wasn't the only thing on the blink.

  The telephone was also definitely out of order.

  Aunt Annie rallied bravely. "Lena, hand out the masking tape. We haven't a minute to lose." She turned to say something to Leddon, who was still standing resignedly behind the desk, when Jim caught up with her. He led her protesting away from the desk to a corner.

  He could have mentioned Jerry Duprey, whom he hoped was still hidden under his bed, the bellboy parked in the deep freeze, or the guy digging up the floor of the shed. However, Aunt Annie looked a little too frail for such a barrage. He only said, "I understand a doctor declared Mrs. Benning was dead. It must have been of natural causes or he would have called for an autopsy?"

  She took her eyes away from the occupants of the lobby. "My dear Charlie, the only available doctor at the time was old, quite blind, and has been known to take on spirits even in the morning. Does that
answer your question?"

  Jim must have looked surprised, because she added, "The other two doctors in this community were attending ladies who took it upon themselves to produce babies at that time."

  Jim had one answer, but it didn't make him feel happy. He came up with another question before she took off. "The only thing I do understand is Mrs. Edith Benning had one healthy sweet tooth. Did it ever occur to you somebody or other poisoned the lady with candy? There was a large box on the dresser in her room."

  Aunt Annie didn't have to answer. Lena arrived at her side and announced, "Somebody left the candy on her dresser, Charlie. But it was somebody who didn't know Edith Benning."

  "What do you mean?" Jim asked.

  Lena set her pith helmet straight on her head.

  "My dear Charlie, Edith Benning was a diabetic. She couldn't touch anything sweet!"

  The man in the seersucker suit took on more dimension. He ceased to be negligible right at that moment. Suddenly he was standing at Jim’s elbow staring at Aunt Annie and Lena.

  "You are saying Mrs. Benning WAS a diabetic!

  I asked the gentleman at the desk for an appointment with her. He said nothing about her…her demise. Is Mrs. Benning dead?"

  Both of the old girls nodded their heads. Aunt Annie, who seemed to know everyone's name said gently, "Mrs. Benning died a few days ago, quite suddenly, Mr. Reese."

  He blinked. "But I had correspondence with her. I had business with her," he blurted.

  "Unseemly as it may be, did she have any heirs?"

  So Reese just didn't happen to arrive to seek shelter. Jim had surmised as much. He was part of the picture puzzle growing more complicated by the hour. He could have answered his question in one sentence. "One heir, Jerry Duprey, parked under my bed!" but he thought it better to hold his tongue.

  Aunt Annie looked at Lena, then volunteered an answer, "Mrs. Benning does have one heir, a nephew." She didn't explain further because she didn't have time. Suddenly, every light in the hotel went out!

  Chapter 10

  As the lights went out, a great deal of Aunt Annie's determination went with them. She was too flustered to answer any more questions. And Reese was too flustered to care. Aunt Annie's voice sounded a little quivery for the first time.