Murder at the Seaside Hotel: A 1920's Historical Cozy Mystery (An Evie Parker Mystery Book 5)
Page 7
Evie thought about it and then shook her head. “I might need your help with the detective. Yes, I have been helpful in the past but even I am willing to admit I have nothing but flimsy suspicions and they’re mostly based on the local constabulary not being thorough.” Evie brightened. “He might listen to you. Also, men have a way of communicating with each other with few words. If I prattle on and confuse him, you can have a word with him and he’ll be so relieved, he’ll agree to anything.”
“I’m glad to know I can be of some service.”
“Tom, I hope you are not feeling superfluous. Without your valuable assistance, I would never have dreamed of delving into any of the incidents we have been involved in.” She held up a finger as if she’d suddenly been struck by an idea. “I know. Caro can help us. She can find out when the maid goes into the room to clean and we can sneak in.” Seeing Tom’s look of confusion, she added. “Remember, earlier I mentioned wanting to see inside Mr. Prentiss’ room.”
“And, in the process, get the maid fired.”
“Nonsense. If we are caught, I will simply play my Countess card.”
“Remind me again about that card.”
“Oh, I’ll be all snooty, demanding and offended.” She finished her coffee and smiled. “Now, let’s see if the manager will allow us to use his office.” When they walked out into the lobby, Evie hesitated.
“Is something wrong?” Tom asked.
“No, not really. Only… After that lunch I think a walk along the pier might do me a world of good. Perhaps after we’ve made the telephone call.”
Mr. Richard Henderson, the hotel manager, responded to Evie’s request with the swiftness of someone eager to please. Or, at least, appear to want to please.
Evie thought she detected a slight hardness in his eyes. Then she remembered going over his head to sort out her hotel reservations and finally getting her way. He could not have been pleased about that.
“Right this way, my lady.”
Evie made sure to give him her warmest smile. “Thank you. It’s very kind of you.”
Evie entered the office and took in the large desk and high-backed leather chair. She thought she could smell a hint of cigar and imagined Mr. Richard Henderson making himself quite comfortable behind closed doors.
Searching through her handbag, she drew out a small leather-bound notebook and found Detective Inspector O’Neill’s contact number.
It took a moment to be connected, during which time, she stared at Tom.
He stood by the door as if standing guard but when Evie signaled with a nod, he approached the desk and sat down opposite her.
“Detective Inspector O’Neill. It’s Evie.” She had considered using her full name but thought a more casual approach might make him more amenable to assisting her with her investigation.
“Lady Woodridge, how wonderful it is to hear from you.”
“Detective, I know your time is valuable so I will cut straight to the chase. There has been an incident at the hotel where we are currently staying.” Evie proceeded to provide the detective with the story about the maid falling from the balcony to her death.
When she explained her displeasure at the lack of interest from the police, the detective fell silent.
“I realize you might not appreciate hearing such news about a colleague and I am sorry but I cannot help it. I find they were too dismissive of the situation.”
“What exactly do you wish me to do?” The detective cleared his throat. “That is, assuming I am prepared to do anything.”
Evie shifted to the edge of the chair. “Well, I should like to know more about Mr. Prentiss. He is a lawyer and I assume he works in town. I wonder if he has ever come under scrutiny for… something.” She didn’t want to go into what that something might have been.
If she was right about his character, Mr. Prentiss might be the type of man who made a habit of accosting vulnerable young women. One of his victims might have made a complaint to the police. Evie explained this, adding, “There might not be a record of the complaint. At least, not a public record but someone might know something…”
Chapter 10
“What else did the detective say?” Tom asked when they reached the end of the pier.
Evie had suggested taking a walk so they wouldn’t have to worry about being overheard. Mostly, she had needed a breath of fresh air to clear her head and recover from the surprise. The detective had actually been quite helpful.
“Who was the last person to see May Fields alive? In other words, he suggested following police procedures and retracing the victim’s steps.” When Tom quirked his eyebrows up, she said, “I know, I am as surprised as you are. However, he did spend a great deal of time trying to dissuade me from taking an interest. Actually, while he employed those words, I’m sure he meant to say I should not meddle in police business. That’s when I told him someone had to champion the poor girl’s cause.”
“I think I can well imagine his reaction to that.”
Evie smiled. “Can you? Oh, do share your male insights.”
“The detective would have sighed. He might have loosened his tie and brushed his hand across his brow. He might also have checked the time or signaled to someone and whispered for assistance. I’m thinking he might have tried to get someone to call him away on serious police business.”
Evie’s eyes widened. “You think he did all that? I’m going to have to trust your insightful knowledge because I can only picture him sitting back, open mouthed with disbelief and awe and maybe even a hint of appreciation and admiration.”
Tom laughed.
“Anyhow, when I slipped upstairs to change into my walking clothes, I met Caro and asked her to make a few inquiries about May Fields’ activities during her last day. I am willing to bet anything, by the time we return, she will have found out all we want to know about May Fields’ last few hours.”
Evie felt quite pleased with her efforts. Her conversation with the detective had been followed with a brief telephone call to her man of business in town. “I think we should have some answers from Mr. Matthew Keys sooner than we imagine possible. I trust my man of business implicitly. When I next speak with him, he will have found out everything there is to know about Mr. Prentiss Esquire.”
“Shall we take another turn around the pier?”
“Yes. I still need to find out why Caro finds it so delightful.” Evie turned and looked back toward the rows of elegant buildings facing the ocean. “There is something wonderfully understated about this resort town. Back home, this might all have been turned into an elite site for the very wealthy to parade their wealth to other people in the same social set.”
“Yes, I wonder how that happens.”
“The very rich like to stick together. Some might say they herd in colonies. I’ve heard of wealthy people choosing a place and clustering other top-drawer people around them. Oh, and the houses they build can be… Well, words fail to describe what some of those houses look like.”
“Ostentatious?” Tom suggested. “Tawdry? Garish? Gaudy?”
“Oh, yes. I sometimes forget you are well-acquainted with some of the retreat towns back home.” When Evie had told her granny she planned on returning to England, Toodles had insisted she needed a new chauffeur, who had turned out to be a bodyguard in disguise. Tom had come to work for her months before her trip so they had both traveled around quite a bit.
“However, some of the houses are superb,” Evie continued. “Granny mentioned a new one cropping up in an out-of-town retreat north of Philadelphia. I believe the owner has already named it. Let me think… Oh, yes. Whitemarsh Hall. Everyone is talking about it. They are intrigued by the fact it will have 147 rooms. Granny expressed surprise at such an extravagant investment. It is well known the owner is definitely not top-drawer.”
“I’m sure he will throw the most lavish affairs at this new monument to wealth and all your pals will attend, even if in private they will sneer at the presumptuousness.”<
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Evie smiled at Tom’s mocking tone. “Yes, and I’m sure in time his humble beginnings will all be forgotten. Heavens, even the Vanderbilts had humble beginnings.”
When they found themselves at the end of the pier again, Evie glanced around. “No. I am none the wiser. But if Caro finds this pier delightful, then that is good enough for me. Shall we head back?”
“My lady, there is a message for you.” Bowing his head slightly, the concierge handed Evie a folded piece of paper.
Evie stepped away from the front desk and read the missive. “It’s from the detective. He wants me to telephone him.” Evie put away the note. “We shall have to impose on the manager again.”
Tom took care of it. Moments later, Evie sat in the manager’s office. When her call was connected, she greeted the detective with surprise. “What have you discovered and, might I add, so quickly.”
“Nothing good, I’m afraid, my lady. I spoke with my colleague in Worthing.” The detective cleared his throat. “Actually, would it be possible to speak with Mr. Winchester?”
Realizing the detective might want to tackle a delicate matter, she agreed. “One moment, please.” Looking up at Tom, she said, “The detective wishes to speak with you.”
She tried to read Tom’s expression as he listened to the detective but the man knew how to keep his expression blank.
Biding her time, Evie glanced around the manager’s office. He kept a tidy desk. The ink blotter only had a few ink stains on it and she imagined he had it changed on a regular basis. There were two framed photographs on his desk. One of a young woman and the other of an elderly woman. She guessed one might be his wife and the other his mother. Since she hadn’t noticed a wedding band on his finger, she changed her mind and decided the young woman had to be his sister.
“I certainly will, detective.” Tom disconnected the call. “The detective sends his regards.”
“Oh, how very gracious of him.” Evie waited for Tom to relate the details of their conversation and hoped she wouldn’t need to prompt him.
“I think we might need to take another walk,” Tom said.
“Are you about to impart bad news?”
“You might not like what I have to say.”
“In that case, I might need to retire to my room and order a bottle of whiskey.”
Giving a small nod, Tom said, “The detective spoke with his colleague. To quote Detective Inspector O’Neill, the Worthing detective took your female sensitivities into account. There is one piece of information he failed to reveal because of that.”
“Tom, I am about to have a huffing fit. Please tell me.”
“May Fields had been inebriated.”
Evie slumped back on the chair.
Tom continued, “An empty bottle of brandy was found in Mr. Prentiss’ room by the balcony. Mr. Prentiss had purchased it as a gift for one of his clients. The detective thinks May Fields came across it and drank it.”
Evie murmured, “I find that hard to believe.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Well, think about it. It is all very convenient. Not only is she labeled a drunk, she is also a thief. Meanwhile, poor Mr. Prentiss is the victim of theft.”
“I take it this makes no difference and you wish to continue your pursuit of justice for May Fields.”
Evie lifted her chin. “You’re darned right.” She surged to her feet and made a beeline for the door. “I think it might be best if you order the whiskey and bring it up to my room. I wouldn’t wish to be labeled a drunk.”
“Evie.”
“I… I am in shock and a good stiff drink will do me a world of good.” She left the manager’s office and went straight to her room. Once there, she went to stand by the window to gaze out to sea.
“I find this all too convenient,” she murmured under her breath.
A short while later, Tom appeared and set a bottle of whiskey down. “Are you still annoyed by the news?”
“Yes, pour me that drink, please.”
Tom poured the drink and handed her the glass.
Evie waved the glass under her nose and considered downing the whiskey in one go the way she’d seen her granny do many times. Instead, she took a small sip.
“It doesn’t make sense.” She shook her head and turned toward the view of the sea. “We know May Fields was a hard worker and never missed a day of work. That makes her as honest as they come. Why would she stoop so low?”
“Perhaps there is something to your theory about a liaison between May and Mr. Prentiss,” Tom suggested.
Evie swung toward Tom. “What if someone is trying to cover this up? The manager. The hotel owner. I imagine the manager must have contacted him straightaway. The owner would not have wanted the reputation of his new hotel to be besmirched by a scandal so he contrived a way to blame the maid.”
Tom sat down on the edge of a chair. “It’s quite feasible.”
“Female sensitivities,” Evie muttered. “If the Worthing detective had wanted to spare me, he might have taken you aside and told you in private. Instead, the information comes to light now when he knows I have gone ahead and contacted another detective.”
“Are you now suggesting the Worthing detective is responsible for some sort of cover-up?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Evie took an angry sip of her drink.
A knock at the door was followed by Caro’s entrance. “Milady. I thought I saw you headed upstairs. Earlier, I thought I saw you going out so Edmonds and I followed you but then we lost you, so we had afternoon tea.”
“Did you find out something, Caro?”
“I did, milady.” Caro looked from Evie’s glass to Tom’s glass.
“Oh, I have just had some unpleasant news.” Evie filled her in and watched Caro gasp in surprise.
“No. Drunk?” Caro gave a fierce shake of her head. “That can’t be right. The maid I spoke with insists May Fields was a hard worker and extremely efficient. They both worked together. In fact, they cleaned Mr. Prentiss’ room together. That’s the rule in this hotel. All the maids work in pairs. Anyhow, when they finished, they left together and moved onto the next room. Then, May Fields returned to the room because the other maid said she’d forgotten to change the soap. By then, they’d already finished for the day. May offered to run back and do it herself.”
“And it was the other maid who remembered not changing the soap?”
“Yes.”
So, May Fields had returned to the room.
“What time would this have been?”
Caro smiled. “I asked her about that. They finished at exactly midday. That’s when she told me about being efficient. They have so many rooms to clean, they have to keep to a schedule and it was May’s afternoon off and she had plans to go to her favorite tea room. So they made sure to finish on time.”
Midday.
Evie remembered they had arrived at the hotel shortly after midday. She had then come straight to her room and had fallen asleep soon after. Then, Caro had woken her up at about two in the afternoon.
“There’s a two-hour gap.” Evie explained her theory. “We arrived at the tea room and Mr. Prentiss and his wife were already there, but we don’t know when they arrived.” Or… When they had left, she thought.
Tom set his glass down. “I saw the Prentiss couple leave the hotel.” He brushed a hand across his eyes. “I can’t say for sure what time, but I know I’d been sitting in the lobby for a short while. So, it must have been just after midday.”
And definitely before she and Tom had left the hotel.
When Evie and Tom had finished their afternoon tea, they had then gone for a walk along the pier and Mr. Prentiss and his wife had still been at the tea room. But they must have left some time after…
“Do you remember anything else about the Prentiss couple?” Evie asked. “Did they come down the stairs or had they already been downstairs, perhaps in the library?”
Tom shook his head. “I only saw the
m when they stepped out through the front doors.”
“We need to return to the tea room and see if anyone can tell us what time Mr. Prentiss and his wife left.”
Tom checked his watch.
“Yes. Yes. It’s too late today. We’ll do it first thing tomorrow…”
Chapter 11
“Retrace May Fields’ steps,” Evie murmured under her breath.
“How is your fish?” Tom asked.
Distracted from her thoughts, Evie looked up. “Do you remember telling me about your pacing in the lobby?”
Tom looked down at her dish.
“Oh, the fish is fine. I’m more interested in what you said about finding an article in the newspaper interesting. What was it about?” She vaguely remembered him mentioning a murder case…
“Oh, that…” He dropped his gaze and smiled. “The article wrapped up a story about a murder investigation in London. Detective Inspector O’Neill had been mentioned.”
“I wish I’d known. I would have congratulated him and… As I recall, you had made a point of telling me I had become fixated with murder and there you were, reading an article about a murder case to entertain you when nothing else had been able to hold your interest for long.”
“Feeling better now?”
Evie gave him a brilliant smile. “Yes, thank you.” Could she now use that as a way to justify her continued interest in May Fields’ death? News about the maid’s state of inebriation had more or less convinced Tom she had fallen to her death. However, Evie couldn’t let it go.
He sipped his wine and studied her over the rim of the glass. “You’re still obsessing about it.”
Evie felt she had good reason to obsess. It took her mind off feeling cross with the police for withholding that vital piece of information. If she had known about May’s state of inebriation, she would have asked her friend, Ruth Charles, about it. Evie would bet anything Ruth would have told them May Fields had never touched a drop of alcohol in her life. Yes, there could always be a first time. If that had been May’s first time drinking, she had certainly made up for it. Who could imbibe an entire bottle of hard liquor?