Murder at the Mena House

by Erica Ruth Neubauer

  I wondered if it was the horses or the stable hands she was interested in, and then immediately chastised myself for thinking such uncharitable thoughts. It was true she was a flirtatious young woman, but I needed to take the high road. Even though the young woman had been rude to me the night before, I had no real reason to dislike her.

  “Would you like some company?” I asked.

  “I would be delighted!” He beamed at me, and we took off at a leisurely pace in what I assumed was the proper direction.

  The grounds were extensive, and I hadn’t gotten a good sense of the place yet—I was glad for the excuse to do some exploring with the colonel. We chatted easily about Egypt and travel in general as we moved away from the hotel, my companion cheerfully acknowledging the various groundskeeping staff with a tip of the head.

  “Do you ride?” The colonel’s stick tapped along beside us, the sound muffled in the grass as we moved out onto the well-maintained paths.

  “I know how, but I’m afraid there isn’t much riding to do back in Boston.” My mother had insisted that I learn as a child, but I hadn’t mounted a horse since her death. While there were surely stables in the city, I had never maintained the interest.

  He chuckled. “I suppose not.”

  “I didn’t even know the hotel had a stable.”

  “Do you know they also . . .” Thunder drew up from behind us.

  I never found out what else the hotel had, because at that moment, Anna Stainton pulled up beside us on an enormous chestnut gelding. As it snorted and danced in place, I had to give her credit for being able to handle such a large horse. She made it seem effortless.

  “Hello, Father,” Anna drawled, reins clutched tightly in hand.

  “Good afternoon, my child. You remember Miss Wunderly.”

  “Of course.” Her lip lightly curled as she looked me up and down.

  My own casual outfit qualified as rags compared to her short red riding coat, which covered a silky ivory blouse. The coat came just below the waist of her close-fitting taupe pants, and a pair of tall black boots in smooth leather hugged her calves, matching the black leather riding crop in her hand. She tapped the crop against her boot a few times, causing me to physically flinch. She looked as though she would like nothing better than to hit me with it.

  She turned her look of disgust to her father. “Your taste in company hasn’t improved any, I see.”

  “Anna!” A mottled red stain spread across the colonel’s face as my own eyebrows shot up.

  Without another word, she gave a tug on the reins and a kick to the side of her mount. The horse turned tightly and took off at a gallop, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. I had begun to sweat lightly on our walk, even though we were moving at a leisurely pace, and the storm Anna left behind stuck to my exposed skin. I felt as though I had taken a bath in sand.

  Coughing, the colonel turned to me, his face red and sputtering. I shook my head and smiled.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “She’s young.”

  “I’m so sorry, Miss Wunderly.” He wiped a bit of sand from his own face. “She . . . Anna had a difficult childhood. We didn’t always have much when I was just starting out, and the other children . . . Well, children can be cruel. And then we lost her mother . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “I understand.”

  The colonel was obviously struggling in his effort to give me some kind of an excuse. And while there were certainly reasons behind Anna’s behavior, I wasn’t terribly interested in hearing them at the moment, uncharitable as it was. My enthusiasm for a walk to the stables had been well and truly spoiled. All I could think about was going back to my rooms, having a bath, and scouring the dirt from my skin.

  I also dreaded the idea of spending the rest of our walk listening to him apologize for his ill-behaved daughter, only to arrive at the stables and have yet another potentially unpleasant encounter with her.

  “If it’s all the same to you, Colonel, I think I’ll head back. The heat might still be too much for me and I need a chance to clean up before dinner.” I smiled and met his eyes, doing my best to convey that I didn’t hold him responsible.

  For a moment, he looked as though he would argue, but he relented.

  “I understand, my dear. I do hope we can continue our conversation later.” He returned my smile, although a bit sheepishly.

  I briefly patted his arm. “Of course.”

  We parted ways, and I retreated back the way we had come. The return trip went much quicker, not least because I had the incentive of a nice, long bath at the end.

  But I could not help wondering what Anna meant. She obviously disliked me, but who else had the colonel been keeping company with that she disapproved of?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I barely made it back to my rooms before Millie stopped by and told me that I was meeting her for a drink before dinner. Rather than argue, I sighed and briefly lamented that I would not be able to take the long, luxuriating bath I had been looking forward to.

  I stripped off my sandy clothes and piled them in a corner of the room, hoping to corral the dirt and sand in one small area. I crossed my bedroom into the private bathroom, and as my bare feet padded softly across the cool tile, I took a moment to appreciate the room. While I didn’t have the spectacular view, the bathroom nearly made up for it. The gorgeous cobalt blue tile covering the floor was unlike anything I had seen at home, and I found the color quite soothing.

  A gentle breeze came in through a high window carrying a touch of mint from the eucalyptus trees in the garden. As I turned the gold taps on the large claw-foot tub, filling it with lukewarm water, I regarded the basket of heavenly perfumed toiletries that had been provided. I selected a jasmine-scented soap and promised myself that I would put some of the exotic bath salts to use later—when I had the time to truly enjoy them.

  After my too-short soak in the tub, I dressed in a simple plum silk dress with sheer cap sleeves and brushed my hair until it gleamed. I didn’t wear much jewelry, but I thought that the little scarab brooch Millie had given me would be the perfect touch with the dress. I searched for a few moments, but it wasn’t with my other jewelry or lying out anywhere that I could see. Spinning slowly and surveying the room, I tried to recall if I had worn it the night before, but a glance at the clock told me I would have to continue my search later. Millie would not be pleased if I kept her waiting any longer.

  By the time I joined Millie in the lounge, she was installed at a small table in the corner, several empty glasses before her. Either she had been early, or my search had taken longer than I thought. The bar was a small but comfortable seating area off the main lobby. Tall ceilings complemented the gold-flocked wallpaper that adorned the walls; an exquisitely carved wooden canopy hung above the horseshoe-shaped bar. Without the height of the vaulted ceilings, the room may have felt incredibly closed off. Instead, it had an air of cozy exoticism. Tall windows with widely spaced beaded hangings decorated a glimpse of the closest pyramid. I still couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

  “I can’t seem to get proper table service, Jane. Why don’t you head to the bar directly and get me another highball,” Millie said before I had even pulled out a chair.

  I crooked an eyebrow at the empty glasses on the table, but without a word, I followed her suggestion. It was hard to believe service was slow, since the hotel staff had been very attentive so far. Of course, Millie’s idea of slow—especially where alcohol was concerned—was probably different than the average guest’s.

  I brought Millie her whiskey highball and took a seat as she gulped at it greedily. I placed my own sidecar on the table and decided to broach the subject of her acquaintance with the young British women again.

  “How do you know Lillian and Marie, Aunt Millie?”

  She took her time in answering, peering around the lounge as though she might be able to find a more interesting topic to distract me with. Finally she pursed her lips.

  “I knew Lillian’s fa
ther back in England. You were rather young, so you wouldn’t remember, but your uncle and I traveled there for his work and spent nearly two years in London. I told Lillian’s father I would keep an eye on her while we were here together.” Millie took a long drink and avoided meeting my eye.

  “I didn’t know you had plans to meet anyone here.”

  Millie’s brow drew low and her face darkened. “I don’t need to tell you all of my plans, Jane.”

  My spine stiffened at the rebuke, and I said nothing. In the awkward silence that followed, I gazed around the room. The caramel-skinned man entered and headed straight for the bar. Beside me, Millie sat upright, her eyes locked in his direction. Her reaction surprised me, especially since I didn’t think she had seen his run-in with Anna the night before.

  “Have you met him, Aunt Millie?” I kept my voice light. “I’ve seen him several times, but I haven’t been introduced.”

  Millie didn’t respond, but shifted in her chair several times before picking up her drink and pushing back from the table. “Let’s go in to dinner, Jane.” She moved toward the dining room without looking to see whether I would follow.

  My mouth hung open for a moment before I rushed to join her.

  * * *

  I caught up with her as she marched through the doorway to the dining room. Not only had she ignored my question and taken off, but a new awkwardness hung in the air. While we waited for the host to return to his post and lead us to our seat, Redvers appeared, looking dapper in a brown tweed suit, breaking the continued silence between us. Air puffed out of my lungs in relief at the interruption.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Wunderly.” He inclined his head to my aunt. “Ma’am.”

  “Mr. Redvers, I believe you already know my aunt, Millicent Stanley.”

  As I remade the introductions, Millie eyed him up and down, her face brightening. Her relief at the interruption of our little twosome was almost palpable.

  “Mr. Redvers, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Will you be joining us this evening?” Millie flashed him a wide smile as I looked at her in disbelief. She typically hated dining with strangers. Apparently, I had underestimated her desire to avoid talking with me this evening.

  And there was her usual goal of marrying me off.

  “I would be delighted.” Redvers continued with us to our table.

  Talk over the meal centered on Redvers and his childhood. I wasn’t surprised, as Millie was driving the conversation train and was keeping the tracks as far from my earlier questions as possible. At least that’s what I assumed. In any event, we learned all about Redvers as a youth—that he had an older brother he rarely saw, he’d had a brown-and-white spaniel named Mr. Jones, who died tragically when Redvers was ten, and that the boys spent summers in the small seaside town of South Shields.

  “Remind me where that is exactly, Mr. Redvers?” Millie asked.

  “It’s near Newcastle upon Tyne, ma’am. In the North.”

  “Your accent doesn’t sound as though you are from the North of England, though.”

  I glanced over at her with a cocked eyebrow. I had no idea Millie was so familiar with the various accents of the British people.

  Redvers also raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I was sent to boarding school quite young, and then attended Eton.”

  Millie gave a little “hmm” of approval and nodded as though this made perfect sense. “Is your family from that area? Near Newcastle?”

  For the first time, Redvers seemed uncomfortable. “Not . . . exactly.”

  I was surprised that Millie let his evasion go. But then I understood why.

  “And are you married, Mr. Redvers?” Millie asked, lips pursed and face openly anticipating his response.

  As much as I hated to admit interest in the question, I was also very curious about the answer. He wore no ring, but that wasn’t always an indicator with men, especially men traveling abroad.

  Redvers paused and cleared his throat.

  The man certainly knew how to build suspense.

  “I am not, Mrs. Stanley. With my line of work, I never found the time. Or the right woman who could handle the hours.”

  “Banking hours? A woman who can’t deal with banking hours?”

  He leveled a stare at me and I shut my mouth, but it took quite a bit of effort.

  “She’s right, Mr. Redvers. Whatever can you mean?” Millie wasn’t going to let that pass by, either.

  There was a long pause as we looked at him expectantly.

  “There’s an element of travel with the bank I work for, and I’m frequently away from home. As you can see.” Redvers spread his hands and smiled.

  Millie seemed satisfied with the explanation, but I was still suspicious.

  The dining room had filled while we ate, and the other diners now appeared to be finishing their meals as well. I declined the offer of dessert, choosing instead to order my usual glass of after-dinner port. Millie waited for her next drink, and once it was in front of her, she pushed her chair away from the table, readying to leave.

  “I think I’ll just see what my charges are up to.” Millie took a long pull at her drink before hurrying off, careful not to spill a drop. I wondered if the girls were her actual goal, or if Millie was just scheming to leave us alone together.

  “Your aunt can certainly hold her alcohol.” Redvers watched Millie disappear into the crowd without a hint of a stagger. I’d lost track of the number of glasses she downed over the course of our meal. But I had long ago stopped counting.

  “Do you know . . . she’s always been such a heavy drinker that I’m afraid I barely notice anymore.” My brow furrowed for a moment. “Although she does seem to be drinking quite a bit on this trip. Maybe because the alcohol here is so much better than what we can get at home right now.”

  Redvers nodded. “Have you always been close?” he asked.

  “I can’t say we’re that close now, to be honest.”

  Millie was my father’s only sister, and I spent a fair amount of time with her as a child, and also as an adult—both before my marriage and after. But despite all the years spent with the woman, I still knew very little about her personally. Millie kept her private affairs very private.

  I realized that Redvers had directed his attention toward the stream of people heading for the terrace instead of the saloon.

  “The dinner crowd seems to be heading outside. Do you know what’s going on?” I asked.

  “I believe there’s going to be some live entertainment tonight. Shall we?” Redvers stood and offered his arm. I paused for only a moment before I accepted and we moved down the hall and out onto the terrace with the others.

  CHAPTER SIX

  We took up a post on the far side of the curved bar. It was an excellent vantage point for watching our fellow guests as they came onto the terrace and started to mingle. A band was setting up near the stage and a bevy of workers was clearing the majority of the tables from the terrace floor. I felt a moment of panic over the thought of Redvers asking me to dance. I loved to watch, but my feet were incredibly uncooperative in the actual act. I started thinking of polite ways to turn him down. Firmly. But then I glanced at his handsome face, strong arms, and broad shoulders, and the sudden thought of him holding me close on the dance floor made me feel quite . . . warm. A tingle crept up my spine and tickled my neck.

  Redvers gave me a strange look. “Are you well?”

  I cleared my throat. “No, I’m quite fine. Thank you.”

  Just then, Anna and the colonel came through the open French doors. Anna was quite the sight, and nearly every head turned in her direction—rightfully so. Her scarlet red dress was fine gauze and nearly see-through, exquisite silver beading just covering any . . . personal . . . areas that would have otherwise made the dress obscene. Her father seemed mortified—glancing at his daughter and just as quickly looking away, moustache twitching—but I could imagine how any argument about the dress would have gone. If I was honest, she wore it well.

/>   “Well, that’s certainly . . . eye-catching.” Redvers gave Anna a cursory look and turned back to me.

  I felt my own small swell of triumph, even though I wasn’t nearly as done up or well turned-out. I also reminded myself that I shouldn’t—didn’t—care.

  The colonel spotted us from across the room and gave me a friendly nod, his eyes coolly sliding over Redvers and away. Then he and Anna moved in the opposite direction, nearer to the band setup. That friendly nod had not included Redvers, nor did Redvers acknowledge the colonel, which struck me as odd. Colonel Stainton seemed friendly and congenial with everyone, staff included. And Redvers . . . I didn’t yet know about Redvers. But the interaction, or lack thereof, was intriguing.

  I continued to watch as Anna disengaged from her father and headed for a somewhat rowdy table of young men. The colonel fumed, but instead of going after her, he gazed about until his eyes locked with the caramel-skinned man seated alone at a table nearby. There was a brief acknowledgment between the two men, but the colonel did not join him. Instead, he headed for the bar, using his cane to push his way through the bodies pressed there.

  “Do you know that gentleman?” I indicated the man who had bumped into Anna the night before. He sat alone now, swirling a delicate glass in his hand. The light caught on his large cuff link, gold with some sort of jewels encircling the rim.

  Redvers cast his eyes in that direction. “The gentleman seated by himself?” At my nod, he continued. “That is Mr. Amon Samara.”

  No further information seemed forthcoming, and I raised my eyebrows in question.

  “I know him only by reputation.” He didn’t seem inclined to continue. Again.

  “What kind of reputation?”

  “You know.” Redvers waved a vague hand. “Not the kind to be discussed with young ladies.”

  I rolled my eyes, winning me an amused grin.

  Temporarily giving up my line of questioning, I watched as Anna whipped up activity among the increasingly boisterous group of young men. I could see Mr. Samara looking on also, a bemused expression flitting across his face as he sipped at his drink. I was glad to be able to put a name to the man. It was interesting that Mr. Samara and the colonel seemed to know each other, and I wondered if it meant he also knew Anna. It was hard to imagine why he would have bumped so purposely into Anna the night before, especially if he knew her, but I kept my musings to myself.