Trentbridge Tales Box Set

by Lee Wood

  “Anyway, the time before when he came here we were saying, we think he had an old Volvo estate car.”

  “So quite a step up to a Bentley then. “How did he book the room?”

  “Dawn said he phoned a couple of weeks before the arrival date. I told the police that. I think she actually took his booking.”

  “Is there anything you can think of that happened in the period just before or just after the incident with Mr Winston-Moore?”

  “Nothing I can think of.”

  “Anything, no matter how small or something unrelated but sticks in your mind?”

  “No. Nothing. Dawn said he booked in with a young man. That’s not so unusual these days. Hotels are not often exciting places to work. The odd husband or wife who you realise has booked in with someone you know they’re not married to. You’re aware we’ve had the odd escort who has used their room to entertain clients, but that’s about… oh wait, there was one thing. But it can’t be connected.”

  “Anything. No matter how obscure, go on. Tell me.”

  “On Friday afternoon I did my weekly stock check of all the items we keep for the rooms. You know, the sachets of tea and coffee, the bottles of shampoo, towels, cleaning supplies and so on. We have three stock cupboards on the first floor where we keep it all for the housekeeping and house maids.”

  “Was something missing?”

  “The usual, a few tea and coffee sachets but that’s not what I mean. You expect that. What was odd was when I checked the front utility room we had a large box of toilet rolls too many. I double-checked with the previous week’s figures. I just don’t make mistakes like that. With thirty rooms plus the cloakrooms, you can imagine we get through a lot of stuff. I counted eight but when I came to order fresh supplies yesterday and checked we should only have had seven. So I asked Dawn to check and she told me she only found seven. Then, this morning as I came in to work and parked my car, I noticed an empty box in the rubbish bin round the back of the hotel near the kitchens. So where could the extra one have come from? I am certain when I originally counted there were eight. I’ve asked all the house maids if they had thrown out an empty box and none of them had.”

  “It couldn’t have anything to do with what happened but it’s just odd and you did say to mention anything.”

  “Yes. You were right to do so. Just one thing. How big are these boxes?”

  “Quite large. About twenty-four inches by twenty. Do you think that’s important?”

  “Probably not, but you never know. The only other thing is the re-decoration of the three rooms at the back of the hotel. But the decorator has been off ill with flu, just like George and he hasn’t done any work in them since before the incident with Mr Winston-Moore.”

  “Did you speak to Mr Winston-Moore about anything while he was staying here?”

  “Not more than any other guest.”

  Just then Diane's phone rang. “Oh, I’m so sorry, please could you excuse me a sec. Hello. Oh no. Is she okay? No. I'll come now.”

  “I'm sorry Mr Sheldon but my cat’s been taken ill. Is there anything else before I go?”

  “I don't think so. Thank you for your time. Oh, and just so you know, Diane, Jonathan is always saying nice things about you.”

  “Will that be reflected in my next pay rise?”

  James smiled. “That’s down to Jonathan but let’s just say I wouldn’t be surprised. Before you rush off, do you think it would be possible to have a word with the housekeeper you mentioned?”

  “Dawn? Yes. Now is probably a good time. I’ll find her before I leave and ask her to pop down. Just give me a minute or two to locate her.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  As James waited for the housekeeper, a waitress came over.

  “I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. It’s been very busy. I do apologise. What can I get you?”

  “An orange juice please.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  He watched as the waitress went off, oblivious to the fact she had just spoken with the hotel owner. He knew her name. Stella. James had seen her many times when he was homeless and living on a mattress behind the hotel. She obviously didn’t connect the dirty homeless tramp with the well-dressed gentleman she was now serving.

  He watched as she dealt with the various customers and smiled at everyone as she had with him. He made a mental note to tell Jonathan the general manager to make sure she got a good pay rise when the reviews came up the following month.

  As he was watching the waitress, he suddenly heard a voice.

  “Hello. Mr Sheldon? I’m Dawn Waterman, the housekeeper. Diane said you wanted to ask me about the man who was found dead.”

  “Yes. Hello, thank you for your time, Mrs Waterman. I’m James.” He reached out to shake her hand and noted as she extended her hand there appeared to be a large bandage covering her lower left arm.

  “Yes. I just have a few questions to ask, if that’s okay.”

  “Er, yes, that’s fine.”

  “Now I understand from Diane you work here both as the main housekeeper but you also help out on the front desk part time. Usually until 8.30 pm. And she also tells me you've worked here longer than anyone else.”

  “Yes, that's right, about eight years now. Apart from a short time off last year for a family bereavement.”

  “Now according to Diane, she says Mr Winston-Moore actually booked the room on the second of May and she seems to think you took the booking over the phone. Is that correct?”

  “Yes. I work on reception three days a week from 2.30 to 8.30. It gives me a bit of extra money. And besides I don't have a computer at home so I use the office one to order my grocery deliveries and bits and pieces. Anyway, the phone rang and nearly scared me. I was deep in thought. I remember because it was a quiet period of the day. He said he wasn’t very computer literate. That’s why he booked by phone. He asked for the Trinity Suite because he had seen it when he had stayed here before. It's our best room and has a side window that looks down towards the entrance to the botanical gardens as well as the porch that overlooks the front of the hotel. I recognised his name from his previous visit, it's quite unusual.”

  “Were you working here on the days just before the murder?”

  Just then her mobile phone went off.

  “Sorry about this ... excuse me. She answered the phone. “Hello, Mum. No, of course I haven't forgotten what day it is. Little Alfie and I will be round after work. The chef here baked a special cake for you. I just have something I need to pick up on the way so I might be a few minutes later than usual. Okay, Mum, love you. Bye.” She ended the call and turned back to James.

  “I’m sorry about that. What did you want to know?”

  “I asked if you were here on the days running up to the murder.”

  “Yes. I remember I booked him and his companion in at reception when they arrived on the Tuesday. And I saw him when Zoe, that’s the room maid, and I were cleaning their room. And we both overheard the argument on the Thursday morning with the man who they say killed him and then I came in at eight on Friday but when I arrived there were police everywhere.”

  “I noticed your name wasn’t down on the list of staff who the police logged in that day?”

  “Yes. I think I came in the kitchen entrance.”

  “I thought that was closed.”

  “I guess the chef, Wayne, or one of the staff popped out for a quick cigarette and left it open for a minute.”

  "When you were cleaning his room did you happen to notice the painting on the display easel?"

  "Yes. He told Zoe and me to be extremely careful and not touch it because it was very valuable. So I saw it but I didn't go near it. And neither did Zoe. I’m sure of that."

  “You say you, along with the room maid witnessed an argument between him and one of the other guests."

  "Yes. Zoe, that's Zoe Keltman, she’s our youngest room maid and we both overheard a row between Mr Winston-Moore and one of the o
ther guests. The man was accusing him of having an affair behind his back. He was shouting and screaming for about five minutes. Then he left the room. We were down the hall, sorting out some laundry but we could hear it all and then saw the man as he came past in tears. He was booked into the hotel as Mr Green in room 113 but the police called him Mr Gentle. About half an hour later we noticed the younger man who was staying with Mr Winston-Moore's go downstairs with a suitcase.”

  “Was it a large case? Big enough to hold the painting you saw on the easel?”

  “I’m not sure. It might have been. Yes, now I think about it, yes it was.”

  “One last question for now. Have you noticed anything unusual over the last few days? Anything, no matter how small or unrelated it may have seemed at the time.”

  “Nothing comes to mind. It's all been a bit upsetting, as you can imagine. It's not the sort of thing you expect. I can only feel sorry for Diane discovering the body with an eight-inch knife in his back in that way. I’ve known her for years. She makes out she’s strong and coping with it but I’m not so sure. She’s got some good friends here. So we’re all keeping an eye on her to make sure she’s okay. It’s a good place to work. We try to look out for each other.”

  “Okay, thank you, Dawn. Thank you for your time.”

  “Can I ask, sir? Are you the new detective?”

  “No, Dawn. I’m not with the police. I’m working for the lawyer of the man accused of the murder. Someone thinks he may not be guilty. And besides that I’m the owner of this hotel.”

  “Oh, oh you’re that Mr Sheldon. I see. I hope you don’t mind me using the computer?”

  James laughed. “No, that’s fine. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your duties I see no harm. And Diane speaks highly of you. So please don’t worry. It seems like a good team of people here. I leave everything to Jonathan. As long as he’s happy then so am I.”

  “I’d best get back to work then. Bye.”

  “Before you go… You mentioned a room maid. Zoe? Is she on duty at the moment?”

  “Yes, sir, she is. Would you like me to send her down?”

  “Yes please. And thank you, Dawn.”

  As Dawn walked off, the waitress returned to leave his bill for the orange juice and check everything was to his satisfaction as he hadn’t touched his drink.

  “Yes, thank you. Everything is fine.”

  James spent the next few minutes going through all the things in his head, while he waited for Zoe. He noticed the waitress checking all the customers were happy.

  George Leeman had mentioned her. She was an attentive waitress from what he had seen. He could see why the bar had a lot of repeat customers. It looked like his wages bill would be a lot higher from the following month but as profits for the hotel had increased by twelve percent since the refurbishment he couldn’t complain. He was still new to running a business and the hospitality trade certainly had problems with finding and retaining good staff. So the employees who went above and beyond in their duty and service to customers were worth their weight in gold. And so far, according to his accountant, the hotel was making a handsome profit.

  Here he was the owner of a hotel and running a detective agency. Plus he had people running the charity he had set up when he won the Lotto. He had spent £75 million buying a run-down housing estate of 880 houses called Asbury Park. The charity was helping local families to have a place they could call home. The rents the charity were charging were far less than private landlords charged and the houses would all be maintained to high standards. But the most important thing was that young families had a decent house and a garden for their kids to enjoy. The local school on the estate was now open and the doctor’s surgery would be finished and ready in two months. James had dedicated the charity to his late wife and two kids. He had named it the MJA Housing Foundation after his wife Miriam and his two kids Jack and Abigail.

  Since his Lotto win, he had been invited to all sorts of local functions. Most of them he would turn down unless it was for a worthy cause. Of course at such events he would meet a lot of attractive women but he had never had any dates with them. His heart still ached for his wife. So he was alone. He needed something like this to keep his mind occupied or he could easily end up back on the booze or succumb to his old gambling habit.

  After all the interviews and work he had put into the case, he was more certain than ever Norman Gentle was innocent and there were several people who could have done it. The list included the three antique dealers and Kevin O’Connor.

  And following the searches he had asked Eden Gold to undertake, fresh information had come to light that put a new suspect in the frame. It seemed possible one of the antique dealers hadn’t been telling the whole truth.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  James looked at his notes. Zoe Keltman, a nineteen-year-old housemaid.

  As she walked across the bar towards him, James had his first impression of Zoe. She looked older than nineteen but then he thought that someone who had decided to move from Poland to the UK must have already had some experience of life beyond their years.

  “Hello, Zoe. Thank you for agreeing to this. I appreciate it. Tell me, how are you enjoying working here?”

  “It’s a nice place to work. I really enjoy it. I’m very happy here. Thank you.”

  “Are there other people of your age? Are you making friends?”

  “Yes, yes. Some of the people who work in the kitchen, they are nice. I have made friends with them. It is good.”

  “That’s nice. Now, I wondered if you could tell me about the argument you heard last Thursday.”

  “Yes. Dawn and I were cleaning out room 106 just down the hallway. We were sorting out fresh linens for the beds when the man came out of 113 and knocked on the Trinity Suite. I heard the man shout something like ‘Where is he?’ Then he went in. A few seconds later, I could hear him shouting and screaming. It went on for a few minutes, and then he came out. He was crying. He walked past his room. I didn’t see where he went from there.

  “The older man, you know the one who was killed, he went after him. We just carried on working. This sort of thing has happened before. We had a man who found his wife with another man a month ago. I guess that’s what some people do in hotels. I noticed later, must have been about thirty minutes; the younger man came out of the room with a large suitcase. That’s pretty much everything I think.”

  “Thank you, Zoe. Now, can you recall anything unusual that has happened in the hotel since then? It doesn’t have to relate to the Trinity Suite. Anything, no matter how trivial it may seem to you?”

  “No. No I can’t really think of anything. We get all sorts of things happening. I remember I was shocked the first time I found a sex toy a lady had left after she checked out. But that was months ago. On Friday the man in room 118 told me he thought the hotel is haunted. He said he heard strange noises coming through the back wall. But at that time the rooms behind his were closed for re-decorating. I had a look in there and they were empty. I thought the rooms had been cleared, except I found was a dog bowl I guess someone left behind before the re-decoration. I think someone sneaked their dog in as we don’t allow pets in the hotel. Oh, a few weeks ago I found a nice pair of expensive shoes and an iPad in room 115. I handed them into reception. Diane will have details of them. She’s very meticulous and careful with things like that. She photographs everything and puts all the details in a folder. Has any of that been of help?”

  “Yes. Yes, it has. Thank you, Zoe.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  “Hello Wayne, thanks for taking the time out. I expect you’re busy. Just a few questions about the day before the murder and the morning after. Now I realise you’re a bit tucked away from things but is there anything about those two days that strikes you as being relevant or anything that happened you have since thought might have some bearing?”

  “Not really. As you say I’m usually busy in the kitchen. On Friday morning I came in at 6.30.
Diane was here as usual and then I can’t quite remember if the police were already here or if they turned up just after me. It was all a bit of a shock.”

  “Yes, quite. The police said there weren’t any knives missing from the kitchen. Is that right?”

  “Yes. They were all accounted for. I obviously have my own special knives and nothing is missing and the normal kitchen sets are all still there. I checked everything thoroughly and nothing has been taken as far as I can see.”

  “Can you walk me through what happened after you arrived?”

  “The police had people searching the kitchens from just after I got here. Once they had got me to check nothing was out of place the top detective guy, can’t remember his name, came and said to make breakfast for the guests to keep them happy and to have tea and coffee to hand. So that’s what we did. We hardly stopped until well after ten.”

  “Did anyone come in or out during that time?”

  “No. No one. They had a uniformed officer stopping anyone. I guess they thought someone might try to leave. As I said, we just worked to keep up with everything. We hardly stopped.”

  “Did you see the man who was killed at all? Do you remember him?”

  “Yes. He was in the bar when I went in there on both Wednesday and Thursday nights. I remember he was boasting to the people with him, something about a painting he had found and what it was worth. They were trying to find out where he found it but he wouldn’t tell them. I could see one of them getting angry with him but then I left after I’d had a pint. I just remember he was really winding them up. He seemed a bit of a tosser to me, but not enough for someone to kill him. “

  “Is there anything else, anything at all you noticed, no matter how trivial or something you don’t think is connected but you recall as being unusual or out of place?”

  “Nothing springs to mind. When I’m in the kitchen I try to avoid distractions, otherwise the tables get the wrong meals.”