Murder at the Seaside Hotel: A 1920's Historical Cozy Mystery (An Evie Parker Mystery Book 5)

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Murder at the Seaside Hotel: A 1920's Historical Cozy Mystery (An Evie Parker Mystery Book 5) Page 5

by Sonia Parin


  “You’re quite right. No family to speak of. No one has come forward.” The constable cleared his throat. “As for the matter of arrangements… The parish will take care of it all.”

  “What sort of arrangements?”

  The constable now looked slightly uncomfortable. “The usual arrangements.”

  “I’m afraid you will have to spell it out for me,” Evie said.

  “There will be the usual arrangements befitting an indigent person.”

  A pauper’s grave? But May Fields had worked… she hadn’t been poor or needy… Just because she didn’t have any family didn’t mean she should be labeled as indigent.

  Evie dug out a card from her purse. “I should like to be responsible for suitable arrangements.” She handed the card over. “Now, if we could please speak with someone in charge of the investigation.”

  “There is no investigation, Lady Woodridge.”

  Evie lifted her chin. “I should then like to speak with your superior.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Evie saw Tom smiling at the constable. She imagined him daring the constable to defy Evie.

  Shaking his head, the constable withdrew into an office.

  Evie smiled at Tom. “I think that went rather well, don’t you?”

  Tom smiled “If you consider browbeating a police constable as doing well, then yes, I agree.”

  “I did no such thing. In fact, I displayed the utmost courtesy. The same can’t be said for the constable.”

  A man emerged from the office adjusting his tie. He greeted them and introduced himself as Detective Inspector Hopper.

  “How may I help you?”

  Evie explained about their interest in May Fields. “I must say, I was surprised when we were not interviewed.”

  “Do you feel you would have been able to provide vital information, Lady Woodridge?” the detective asked.

  “Not necessarily, but there was no way for you to know that.”

  Tom cleared his throat. Evie took it as a warning to tone it down.

  “I would hate to think the lack of interest in the case has anything to do with the young woman’s profession.”

  “Is that so?” The detective brushed a hand across his chin.

  “I employ many servants and if any of them were to come to any harm, I would like to think their case would be treated with the same interest as that of someone of greater consequence.”

  “I can assure you, my lady, if one of your servants committed a crime they would be thoroughly investigated.”

  Evie gave him a tight smile. “That is not what I meant.”

  Tom suffered a fit of coughing.

  “I would take care of that cough, Mr. Winchester. It sounds quite serious. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.” Giving a firm nod, the detective withdrew and disappeared back inside his office.

  “I think we should walk away now, Evie,” Tom suggested.

  “Yes, I agree. Who knows what else I might say to that man.” When they reached the roadster, she turned and scowled at the police precinct. “I found him to be rude, patronizing and uncooperative. You’ll be pleased to know I look forward to a speedy drive along the countryside. I would like to put as much distance between us as we can in as short a time as possible, please.”

  Tom smiled. “I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”

  Chapter 7

  “You’ve been quiet for miles now,” Tom said slowing down as they approached the village of Findon.

  “My apologies. I’ve spent the time trying to diffuse my anger toward the detective.” Evie smiled at him through clenched teeth.

  “Thank goodness. I thought your silence might have had something to do with me driving too fast.” He brought the car to a stop at the edge of the village and looked up ahead. “So what is the plan now?”

  Evie shook her head. “Someone around here must have known May Fields. We could walk around.” She barely drew in her next breath when she added, “How can the detective be sure May Fields jumped to her death?”

  Tom walked around the roadster and opened the passenger door for Evie. “You’ve lost me. Have you spent the last four miles holding a discussion with yourself?”

  “Yes. As far as the police are concerned, this is an open and shut case. May Fields had been unhappy so she jumped to her death. Does that make sense to you?”

  “It’s a senseless death, Evie. I don’t know about you, but I’m still trying to understand it. That’s human nature. We try to make sense of something we don’t understand and are not likely to until we experience it ourselves.”

  Evie crossed her arms and huffed out a breath. “I didn’t even know this woman and yet, I can’t stop thinking about her death. I’m no stranger to losing someone and I understand what it’s like to actually go through a stage of disbelief, of not wanting to accept reality.” She stared into the distance but didn’t focus on anything in particular. “What if… What if the police are dismissing this death when they should actually be looking into it? Yesterday, we were playing a game, inventing stories about people. On the surface, we can look so normal and quite harmless, but we could be harboring the darkest secrets, secrets no one could possibly imagine.” She shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s walk on. I think I see a sign up ahead. It might be a tea room.”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t mind stopping for a cup of something.”

  “I thought we might ask in there about May Fields.”

  “Of course. But… We could still have something to drink.”

  Evie glanced at Tom. “You’re worried about me.”

  He slipped his hands inside his pockets and shrugged. “Well, you do seem to be taking this unfortunate incident hard.”

  “Either that, or I’m making the best of a dreadful situation. The more I think about it, the more I believe there might be something more to her death… Since I can’t shake the feeling away, we could continue on with our game. I don’t see any harm in it and it might help me to move on…”

  “Yes, I suppose we could do that. Although, other than coming to terms with it, I’m not sure what else you hope to achieve.”

  Evie turned her attention to walking and making sure she didn’t stub her toe on the cobblestones or miss her step and twist her ankle. “I just think…” She pushed out a breath. “I just think the police should have put more effort into the investigation. It all happened so quickly. How do they know they haven’t missed something crucial? Once they removed the body, it was all over. I think I managed to drink two cups of tea when you came in and told us the police had already decided May Fields had jumped to her death.”

  “Would you be happier if the police had interviewed you?”

  “I don’t know.” She couldn’t really say with any degree of certainty. The police might have spoken with her and still reached the same conclusion about May Fields’ death because, of course, she would not have been able to contribute any insightful information, and, yes… She would still wonder.

  Had the young woman jumped to her death? Or…

  What if someone had pushed her?

  She played around with that idea. Motive. Yes, the police always looked for motive. Jealousy? Resentment? May Fields might have had an enemy. One of the other maids? A waiter? The manager? The concierge?

  She knew the police also looked at opportunity. That is, when the police actually decided to investigate an incident.

  May Fields had been cleaning a room. If someone had caught her by surprised, they might have overpowered her and pushed her off the balcony. Surely, there would have been a struggle, in which case, the police would have seen proof of it.

  Clearly, they hadn’t seen anything to trigger their suspicions.

  “Forget I said anything.”

  They walked in silence, admiring the pretty cottages with their colorful blooms and lace curtains billowing in the light breeze.

  “It must be dreadfully inconvenient to live so close to the road,” Evie remarked. �
��If you had come roaring through this street, you might have given someone an attack.” Some of the cottages had windows right on the edge of the property next to the street. In fact, some were so close she could peer inside.

  “With more and more people owning motor cars these day, someone will eventually need to rethink this road system,” Tom mused.

  “What do you suggest they might do?”

  He looked around. “Build a road nearby, circumventing the village with this road here connecting to it further ahead. Eventually, someone will realize the traffic will increase and, as you have noted, the houses are close to the road. It will become an inconvenience.”

  “You said there’s a church here.”

  Tom nodded.

  “I’m guessing it was built a couple of hundred years ago. Back then, no one really thought about motor cars taking over. Oh…”

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

  “Is this because I’m not entirely onboard with your growing suspicions about May Fields’ death? Or rather, your dissatisfaction with the brief police investigation?”

  “Maybe.” Evie shrugged. “Fine. If no one here knows May Fields, we could go to the church. They are bound to have records of everyone born in the area.”

  “That’s actually a very good idea.” Tom pointed ahead. “There’s that sign you saw. You’re right. It looks like a tea room.”

  Drawing closer, they saw a couple emerging and walking in the opposite direction.

  “I guess this is as good a time as any for tea.”

  They walked in and found a quaint establishment with small round tables. Two ladies sat in a corner table. They looked up, smiled and then resumed their conversation.

  A young woman approached them. “Table for two?”

  Evie nodded and they were shown to a table by the window. As they sat down, a motor car drove by. The windows rattled slightly and then settled.

  “I suppose you would get used to it,” Evie murmured.

  After a brief glance at the menu they ordered some tea and scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam.

  The young woman set the tea cups and plates down. When she brought the tea, Evie asked if she knew May Fields.

  “Yes, indeed.” Her cheeks colored slightly. “We heard the dreadful news.”

  So quickly?

  “One of the locals travels down to Worthing every day to work. Word spread last night. We are all in shock.”

  “Did you know her personally?”

  “Oh, no… Not really. She is… was a couple of years older than me. She used to work here before she decided she wanted something better. From what I hear, May Fields always wanted something better. I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

  “Of course, you don’t.” Evie gave her a warm smile. “Did she live nearby?”

  The waitress nodded. “She used to work for Mrs. Daulton up the street as a live-in maid. Then she came to work here.”

  “Do you know if she had any close friends?”

  “Ruth Charles. They were always seen chatting together...”

  Evie didn’t need to ask where she might find Ruth Charles because the young woman happily supplied the information.

  A couple entered the tea room and the waitress excused herself.

  “Well, now we have our afternoon mapped out for us,” Evie declared.

  “What do you hope to find?” Tom asked.

  “I’m hoping to learn something about May Fields. We already know she wanted something better. Does that sound like someone who would kill herself?”

  “No, indeed, it doesn’t. But, we don’t know what happened between here and her time working in Worthing.”

  “Precisely. Did something or someone snuff out her dreams? She might have had a bad experience with someone…” Evie poured the tea and turned her attention to spreading some jam on her scone. Looking up, she saw Tom looking at her. “I’m not going to justify my curiosity. And, it’s not part of a game. I am truly concerned about the police spending so little time investigating her case. I can’t help feeling they only skimmed the surface and tried to get through it all as quickly as possible.” She knew it would have been a different story if one of the guests had fallen off the balcony…

  Tom lifted his cup only to set down. “All I can say is that the police usually work with physical evidence. If they had perceived some sort of foul play, something out of place, I am sure they would have followed up on it.”

  “What you are really saying is that if I feel the way I do, I should have some sort of solid proof or some sort of lead.”

  Tom sat back, his tea forgotten. “Until now, I assumed you were annoyed with the police because they appeared to have dismissed the death with a blitheness that suggested they simply didn’t care… because May Fields was only a maid. Are you now saying you have a strong feeling about this?”

  Evie gave it some thought. “The police won’t take action unless they have reason to do so. Fine. Let’s find a reason. Let me rephrase that. Let’s ask some questions, learn as much as we can about May Fields and see where that leads us. I need to satisfy my curiosity.”

  Tom sat back and drank his tea. When he finished, he said, “How do you propose to do that?”

  “We have already started by coming here. We’ll talk to her friend and hopefully she might be able to tell us something else about May Fields. And we’ll continue until someone says something of interest.”

  He raised an eyebrow as if surprised. “This really isn’t a game for you now.”

  “No, but there’s no reason why we couldn’t see it as such. Our little game didn’t really have any rules and I think that rather helps. It gives us some leeway to use our imagination. For instance, when we talked about Mr. Addington, you said he was a banker. We all have very fixed perceptions of bankers. They are trustworthy, or at least we hope so. They are also serious. Personally, I think someone who spends a great deal of time with numbers is a little dull.” Evie looked down and smiled. “I only say that because I am hopeless with numbers. Anyhow, I didn’t have any compunction about labeling him a rebel, going against his family wishes and marrying someone his family had disapproved of. I’m willing to bet anything my description of him is spot on.” She gave a small nod and added, “Despite all appearances. The same reasoning can be applied to May Fields’ death. On the surface, it looks like an accidental death. What if it’s not? By meeting people acquainted with May Fields, we might perceive something that might have provided someone with an ulterior motive to kill her.”

  “And what have you learned so far?”

  Evie glanced at the waitress. “May Fields had dreams and she aspired to something better. That’s why she moved to Worthing. We’ve already established that. I hope her friend, Ruth Charles, will reveal more about May’s dreams. Think about it. With enough people telling us May Fields wanted more, we can create a picture of her character. I can already see it taking shape and it is leading me to believe she was not the type of person to give up and kill herself.”

  Tom poured himself another cup of tea. “Yes, fine. I see your point. However, if you do find something to justify your suspicions, it will have to be solid proof. Otherwise, I fear, the police will not take you seriously.” He helped himself to a scone and a generous helping of clotted cream and strawberry jam.

  Evie smiled. “I’m glad you put up some opposition. I would hate to think you would simply agree with me.”

  “It must have something to do with being let off my leash and allowed to drive fast. Now I’m reveling in my newfound freedom.”

  Chapter 8

  “That looks like the house. The waitress said to look out for an abundance of yellow roses.” Evie curled her toes inside her shoes. They had walked to the end of the main road but hadn’t seen any yellow roses so they had doubled back and turned into another street. “By the way, yesterday you mentioned finally settling down when you found an article of interest but you didn’t mention a
nything about what the article was about.”

  Tom looked away and cleared his throat.

  “You don’t want to discuss it?”

  “I had been trying to steer you away from thinking about the maid falling off the balcony.”

  “So, you made up a story about finding an article of interest?”

  “No, I did find something… Fine, it was an article about a murder suspect being apprehended.”

  “Oh, I see. You have been fixating on murder.”

  “I see someone coming out of the house,” Tom said.

  A young woman carrying a basket. She stopped for a moment to fix her hat and look inside her basket. While Evie didn’t want to jump to conclusions, she thought it would be safe to assume the young woman worked as a servant in the house.

  When Evie called out her name, the young woman hesitated, but Evie didn’t see anything odd about that. Her cheeks also colored slightly and she looked at Evie and Tom with a hint of wariness. Again, Evie didn’t find her behavior odd. After all, they were strangers in the village.

  Evie introduced herself and confirmed the young woman’s identity. When she told Ruth Charles she was staying at the hotel where May Fields had worked as a maid, the young woman took a deep swallow.

  “I am very sorry for your loss,” Evie said.

  Ruth Charles looked down and shook her head. “I couldn’t believe it at first. I still don’t. I had planned to visit at Christmas time. We… We made plans and I was going to bake her favorite plum pudding as a gift.”

  “You were close.”

  Ruth kept her eyes lowered. “We both grew up in the same village nearby.”

  “And when she went to work in Worthing, you kept in touch.”

  Ruth nodded. “She wrote whenever she could and always encouraged me to leave here and seek a position at Worthing or Brighton. But I like it here. That’s where we were different. Although, sometimes I thought about it. I think I will still think about finding another position. Maybe not so much now that this has happened.”

 

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