“It could be him I suppose, but I really can’t be certain,” he studied the man’s face.
“No it’s definitely him; look at that strange birthmark on his neck. I noticed it straightaway.”
“It doesn’t really matter who it is he’s just another suicide.”
“Read that paragraph, I think you’ll change your mind.”
Alex took the paper and read the printed details beneath the dead man’s photograph.
“It says he was staying at this hotel before he died; well I never saw him and the police never mentioned it,” Alex was puzzled.
“He was a business man as well,” she read aloud.
“Forty two year old Lewis Alcott, who worked for Tortek Laboratory Supplies, was found dead on Tuesday morning. His death has been recorded as a suicide. He leaves a wife and three children.”
“I wonder who told them he was staying here.” Alex was thoughtful.
“Perhaps it was Mrs. Gilroy; she’s got a mouth like the Mersey Tunnel!” Kate smirked.
“Probably; Oh, I nearly forgot, if you give the police a photograph of Ben, the press will print it. It seems more human apparently if the public have a face to relate to.”
Kate searched frantically through the contents of her over-flowing handbag. Tucked inside an old diary, she discovered a photograph she had taken of Ben the previous Christmas. He had a huge grin on his face after a few too many red wines, but it had captured his mood perfectly. She smiled to herself, and passed the print to Alex.
“They can use this one, but it’s my favourite, and I want it back,” she emphasised.
“Of course,” he slipped it into his inside pocket.
As she replaced the contents into her handbag, Kate found one of the photographs she had received through the post.
“Look at this photograph Mrs. Gilroy,”
“You can call me Peggy,” she smiled.
“O.K. Peggy, could you just look at the photograph please?” she asked.
“Let me see it then,” Peggy leaned forward and studied it, then asked. “Who are they, your family?”
Kate frowned and replied, “I’m not sure who they are.”
“Well why are you showing it to me then?”
“Could the woman in this photograph be the same one who gave you the envelope last night?” she spoke slowly.
“I don’t know, she looks similar but I couldn’t be sure,” she wavered.
“That looks like Ben to me,” Alex remarked over her shoulder.
“I know, but he swears it isn’t.”
“Where did you get it from?”
“I received it through the post on Monday. There’s another twenty or so, all of the same couple.”
“How odd, if that man isn’t Ben, then I’d say he had a twin brother.”
“Even odder that he should disappear a few days later. The photos were addressed to me, but there has to be a connection, I just know it,” Kate frowned.
“Or it could just be a coincidence?” Alex raised his eyebrows.
“I don’t think so,” she paused, and glanced towards the entrance foyer, where two police officers were talking to Mrs. Gilroy.
“You’ve got visitors Alex,” Kate informed him.
“Damn, I was hoping we could have breakfast before they arrived.”
“Perhaps they could join us,” Kate suggested.
The two officers, Inspector Ralph Salt, and Constable Sam Newell introduced themselves to Alex, who was visibly irked by their presence. Kate studied the two officers, and surmised that Inspector Salt couldn’t disguise his occupation even in plain clothes. He was not smartly dressed, his overcoat looked relatively new albeit badly creased, and his dark blue suit serviceable, rather than fashionable. It was difficult not to notice his over-stretched trousers, which were hovering below a huge waistline, and only just clinging on to his flesh with the help of a leather belt. Not a young man, Inspector Salt had a kind face, and a surprisingly neat moustache. His once jet black hair sprinkled with grey, was brushed back from his face, revealing a high forehead and the beginning of a bald patch. In contrast, the young P.C. by his side was fresh-faced and anxious. The buttons on his pristine uniform shone like crystals above his highly polished shoes He glanced repeatedly towards his superior officer as he awaited instructions and guidance, but for now he was invited to join Alex and Kate for breakfast. Both officers gladly accepted the offer, and took their places at table. A selection of fresh fruit and cereal were followed by a cooked meal consisting of smoked fish or bacon, eggs, mushrooms, sausage and French fried bread. With the exception of Kate, who had a small bowl of cereal, everyone ate heartily.
“That’s no way to start the day,” Inspector Salt commented on her meagre meal. “It’s no wonder you’re so thin.”
“That’s why you’re so fat,” Kate muttered under her breathe, as he stuffed another sausage into his mouth.
Their appetites appeased, and compliments passed on the high standard of the food, Inspector Ralph Salt made a remark concerning the suicide of Lewis Alcott.
“This is the same hotel that Mr. Alcott was staying in Mr. Lawton,” he questioned rather than stated a fact.
“So I believe, although I was not aware of his presence. I don’t personally meet all my guests.”
“It seems a bit of a coincidence though doesn’t it?” he persisted.
“Coincidences do happen. Now I’d appreciate it if we could discuss Mrs. Preston’s husband.”
Inspector Salt proceeded to question Alex about Ben’s disappearance, while Constable Newell took notes. He relayed the details of their meeting, and his consequent departure from the bar.
“The last time I saw him was in The Silver Bar. He was having a drink, and we arranged to meet on the following morning to sign the relevant paperwork,” he explained.
“We’ll need to question the bar staff, and any other staff who had direct contact with Mr. Preston.”
“I’ll make sure they’re available Inspector,” Alex agreed.
“Did Mr. Preston seem depressed or preoccupied to you?” P.C. Newell asked.
“Not at all, quite the opposite in fact. He’d just secured a million pound contract. It’s hardly a cause for depression is it?” Alex poured a coffee.
“What about you Mrs. Preston, would you say your husband was acting strangely before he left to meet Mr. Lawton.”
“It depends on what you mean by strange, he does have some strange habits,” she admitted.
“Did he say or do anything out of character?”
“No not really. He did phone me to say he’d be staying overnight which he hadn’t planned to do originally, but that’s hardly odd behaviour is it?”
“It could be relevant Mrs Preston,” Inspector Salt replied.
“Do you have a photograph of your husband?” Constable Newell looked up.
“I’ve given it to Mr. Lawton,” she looked in his direction, prompting him to pass it over.
“Could I have it back as soon as you’ve finished with it?”
“Of course, I’ll get a copy and make sure it’s returned to you.”
“I think you should mention the other photographs Kate,” Alex prompted her.
“What photographs are they?” Inspector Salt glanced in Kate’s direction.
“I received them through the post on Monday, I don’t know if they’re connected to my husband’s disappearance or not. The man in the photograph is definitely my husband, but he insisted it wasn’t,” she hesitated momentarily, and then continued.
“One of the photographs was taken at a café in Southpool. I could just about make out the name and phone number; I went there on the day Ben came here to meet Alex. Max, the cafe owner, recognised the couple in the photo, and told me they used to holiday there every year. They were name Gerry and Anne Parrish, but I didn’t know them. They had twin daughters, but one of them died in an accident. Apparently the couple split up, and Max didn’t see them again after that,” she looked u
p at the Inspector.
“That’s very interesting,” he paused and added, “I don’t suppose you have theses photographs with you?”
“Just the one; I took the rest out of my handbag, I don’t know why,” Kate took the print from her bag and handed it over.
“We’ll make a copy and return it to you along with the one of your husband,” he assured her, as he tucked the two photographs inside his wallet.
“Now Mr. Lawton, could you let me have the envelope and its contents that you received last night, and we’ll need to take a look at Mr. Preston’s room.”
Alex reached inside his inside pocket and took out the envelope.
“Could I have this back as soon as you’ve finished with it?” he asked.
“Of course,” Inspector Salt nodded.
“Was the communication received by you personally Mr. Lawton?” the constable asked.
“No it was handed to Mrs. Gilroy, the receptionist; temporary receptionist that is.”
“I’ll need to speak to her also.”
“That should be quite an experience for you Inspector, Good luck,” Alex grinned.
“One more thing Mrs. Preston, the press will want to speak to you. I’m not in a position to stop you, but just be careful what you say to them. We usually attend a press conference on a weekly basis, and the details of your husband’s disappearance will be released. It’s entirely up to you if you decide to grant an in-depth interview to the press.”
“I haven’t really thought about it,” Kate replied vaguely.
Inspector Salt stood up, followed promptly by his P.C.
“If we could see the room now,” he addressed Alex, who stood up.
“Of course, follow me.”
“Before we go Mrs. Preston, does your husband carry a mobile phone?” Salt asked.
“Yes, but there’s no reply, the last time I called it was dead,” she explained.
“If you could let me have his number, we might be able to get some information from it.”
“Right,” Kate mumbled as she took a business card from her purse, and passed it over.
“If you’re ready Inspector you can see Ben’s room,” Alex announced impatiently.
The trio took the lift to the third floor, and walked the short distance to room 137. The inspection that followed revealed very little due to the cleanliness of the interior, and the fact that Kate had also spent the night there. Alex assured the officer’s that someone other than his own staff had thoroughly cleaned the room, before Ben left. It was obvious from his expression that Inspector Salt was irritated by the situation, and immediately ordered P.C Newell to follow him to the reception area where Mrs. Gilroy was duly interviewed. As expected, she caused confusion and furore, accusing the officer of harassing her.
“What a weird woman, I feel sorry for her husband,” P.C Newell spoke out as Mrs. Gilroy walked away from the officers, refusing to answer any more of their questions.
“Mind what you say Newell,” Salt reprimanded his flippancy.
The police presence caused a few curious glances from passing guests and Alex was relieved when they finally departed, their attendance in his hotel was not good for his reputation or business. He instructed Mrs. Gilroy to inform anyone who enquired about their attendance in the hotel, that it was a courtesy call concerning security matters. How she would translate that with her limited vocabulary and lack of decorum made him cringe, but she would be leaving at the end of the week- the agency had assured him of a replacement by then- if he had any guests left. For now, he would have to tolerate her crass manner for a few more days. Dismissing Mrs. Gilroy from his mind, he turned to Kate.
“Feel free to use the hotels facilities,” he offered.
“Thank you, but I really can’t see the point of staying here any longer.”
The conversation was interrupted by Alex’s mobile phone.
“Excuse me,” he answered the call.
Alex spoke for a few minutes then looked up at Kate.
“It’s a journalist from the Morning Herald; he wants to speak to you,” he whispered.
“What should I do?” she asked.
“It’s up to you.”
“Ok. I’ll speak to him”
Alex passed the phone to her.
“Hello, this is Mrs. Preston.”
“Hello Mrs. Preston my name is Danny Wilder, I represent the Morning Herald; we’ve heard about your husbands’ disappearance and if you’ve no objections, we’d like to do an interview.”
“I don’t know,” she hesitated.
“Could I send one of my reporters to the Hotel?”
“How do you know where I’m staying?” Kate was suspicious.
“I’m a journalist Mrs. Preston it’s my job to know,” he replied without elaborating.
Kate glanced up at Alex.
“Can they send a reporter here, would you mind?”
“As long as they’re discreet.”
“You can send someone, as long as you’re discrete,” she relayed the conditions.
“One of my reporters will be with you at 2 o’clock. His name is Patrick Hinds; I’ll tell him to be on his best behaviour. Thank you Mrs. Preston.”
**************************
Danny Wilder studied his friend’s strained face, where desperation was evident on his wrinkled brow and around his blood-shot eyes. Part of him believed that Pat could give up alcohol, but another part knew he could easily revert back to his addiction. For now Danny had kept his promise to Pat, and now he had to keep his. If Pat let him down again, there would be no more second chances.
“This could be a big story Pat, don’t cock it up,” he warned.
“Just give me a chance,” he pleaded.
After a momentary pause, Danny studied his friend’s anxious expression and replied.
“This is your last chance Pat, don’t let me down,” he paused then leaned forward.
“All we know is that a business man by the name of Ben Preston has disappeared from The Lotus Hotel in Exeter. We need an interview with the wife. She’s staying at the hotel while she’s looking for him,” he explained.
“Thanks Pat I won’t let you down, but I could do with a bit of cash up front for expenses.”
“You can use this credit card for petrol and food and if you need to stay overnight; not at The Lotus,” he emphasised. Keep all your receipts and stay off the booze.”
“I haven’t touched a drop since Monday.”
“It’s only a few days Pat, but it’s a start I suppose. Now is there anything else you need?” he sighed.
“I could do with a car now you mention it,” Pat cringed.
“Christ, have you still got your licence?” Danny looked up
“Yeah, it’s about the only thing I have got left.”
“You’ll have to take the pool car, it’s not up to much but its legal,” Danny pushed a set of keys across the desk.
“That’s it then Danny I’m back in the driving seat,” Pat threw the keys in the air and caught them single-handed.
“Then make sure there’s no alcohol in your system,” he warned.
“I won’t let you down Dan; I promise.”
”Have you got a mobile to keep in touch?” Danny asked, already knowing the answer.
“I’ve got no credit left on it,” Pat admitted
“Don’t say anything else just take this one,” he dropped it into his hand, “and let me know what’s going on. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”
“I’m going, but seriously Danny I really do appreciate this.”
“Goodbye Pat,” Danny turned his attention to an incoming E-mail as Pat left the room.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Pat shouted aloud as he left the building. Behind the wheel of the Ford Mondeo- that had definitely seen better days- he smiled and it felt good. A few minutes later, he joined the congested roads and began his journey to Exeter; a journey that would change the rest of his life, and the life of three other peop
le forever.
CHAPTER 7.
SUNDAY AFTERNOON
Kate spent what was left of the morning in an unexpected state of anxiety and depression. Her initial feelings of anger towards Ben’s betrayal had been replaced by the reality of his disappearance, and possible death. It had only been a few days since she had last seen him, but it felt like weeks, and she missed him dreadfully.
In contrast, Patrick Hinds was fast approaching the centre of Exeter singing to the country and western station on the radio. His mood was euphoric and his mind clear. His spirits had been lifted from the depths of alcoholic despair, back to the realms of sanity. He knew he hadn’t overcome the controlling grip of his habit, but he possessed a determination he hadn’t experienced since his early days of journalism. Just ahead of the next set of traffic lights, he could make out a huge glass sign with some sort of elaborate flower intertwined with the hotels’ name. He had reached his destination, and turned off the road into the parking area located at the back of the hotel.
Walking across the car-park, Pat was struck by the opulence of the hotel before him. Having stayed in one room boarding houses, four star hotels and everything in between, this place was something else. No doubt the clientele were too. He now understood why Danny had asked him to seek accommodation elsewhere.
After announcing his presence to the receptionist, he was instructed to take a seat in the waiting area. Very shortly, an impeccably dressed man who appeared to be somewhere in his forties, walked briskly into the corridor. Everything about him exuded wealth, from the clothes he wore to way he walked, and Pat was uncomfortably aware of his own shabby appearance as Alex Lawton approached him, with an outstretched hand and a friendly smile.
“Mr. Hinds, I’m Alex Lawton the hotel proprietor. I believe you wish to interview Mrs. Preston?”
“Pleased to meet you; is the lady available?” he shook his hand firmly and confidently.
“If you’d like to follow me, Mrs. Preston is in the lounge. Before you speak to her can I just say one thing?”
“Yes of course.”
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