Murder Between the Tides

by Campling Michael

“Yes, sir.”

  “How many bags did Mr Hatcher have?” Dan asked.

  “Two large suitcases, plus a suit carrier and one smaller bag.” Matthew held out his hands to indicate the size. “It was the kind of thing you might keep a laptop in. The suit bag was light, of course, but the other two! I almost put my back out.”

  Dan narrowed his eyes. “We only found one suitcase outside, Matthew. As far as you know, has anyone found any trace of Mr Hatcher’s other bags in the hotel?”

  Matthew’s face fell. “Mr Corrigan, I hope you’re not suggesting that anyone on the staff would’ve taken it. Because I can assure you that no one would ever dream of doing such a thing.”

  Dan held his gaze for a long second, then said, “I wasn’t accusing you of anything, Matthew. But we’re trying to find out what happened to Mr Hatcher, so it’s essential for everyone to be open and honest, and sometimes that means asking difficult questions. Okay?”

  Matthew nodded. “Yes, sir. It’s a troubling business. The staff are all quite upset by it, I can tell you. But I can honestly say that no one has come across Mr Hatcher’s luggage. He must’ve taken it with him, though I’ve no idea how he slipped out with it. It’s a puzzler.”

  “Okay,” Dan said. “Thanks, Matthew.”

  Matthew inclined his head then strolled away, making a slow circuit of the room, pausing to rearrange the chairs around a nearby table.

  Lowering his voice, Dan said, “I can’t decide if the missing luggage is good news or bad. It could mean that Edward has taken it with him, but it could just as easily mean that someone stole it. Maybe they couldn’t make off with both bags, so they took one, threw the jacket away and then ran off.”

  “We could try searching for it,” Alan said. “It was heavy, so someone might’ve been tempted to ditch it. We could retrace our steps from last night. In daylight, we might spot something that we missed.”

  “Maybe later,” Dan said. “For now, I’d rather start with what we have.”

  “Such as?” Roz asked.

  “The notes,” Dan replied. “Who would want to threaten Edward, and why?”

  “Professional jealousy?” Alan suggested.

  “It’s a possibility. It was interesting that Edward assumed his note came from Brian. Have they clashed in the past?”

  “They bickered over silly little things,” Roz said. “Sometimes they behaved like a couple of grumpy old men, but that’s because they were too much alike. Underneath it all, they were friends.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Alan admitted. “Maybe that’s why it rankled so much when one of them had more success than the other. A few years ago, Brian was riding high, but now the tables have turned. Maybe Brian isn’t happy about that.”

  “But Brian swore he never sent that note to Edward,” Dan said. “And I believe him. From what Roz has just said, it sounds as if they weren’t afraid to vent their feelings face to face. Is that right?”

  Roz nodded firmly. “They knew how to wind each other up, but I always thought that, secretly, they enjoyed the cut and thrust.”

  “There you are then,” Dan said. “People who can argue in person have no need to slip each other sly notes. It wasn’t their way. If they were straight with each other, it’s because they shared an understanding. They may not have shown affection for each other, but I believe they were firm friends.”

  “That’s plausible, I suppose.” Alan looked at Roz. “What do you think?”

  Roz tilted her head on one side. “Dan’s right. They fell out all the time, but they also stood up for each other. If Brian had known that Edward was in some kind of trouble, he’d have done anything to help him.”

  “Anything?” Dan said.

  “You know what I mean,” Roz shot back. “The point is, I’m positive that Brian did not send that note.”

  “That leaves Tim, Dominic, Marcus, Albert and the people who’ve left.” Alan paused. “I wonder if Lucille and the Johnson twins received notes.”

  “Dominic could find out,” Roz said. “But you’ve missed one of the suspects. I’m sure you trust each other, but surely I’m still in the frame, aren’t I?”

  Dan examined her expression, then he said, “Yes. Your book was the only thing Edward left behind. That may or may not be significant, but at this stage I can’t rule you out.”

  Roz pushed out her lower lip. “I see. Maybe you should keep this.” She still had the book in her lap, and she held it out to Dan. “You could dust it for fingerprints or check it for bloodstains and DNA.”

  Dan offered a tight smile. “I don’t want to upset you, Roz, but you asked, and I answered honestly.”

  “If you think that’s okay, then there’s nothing more to say.” Roz tossed the book onto the table, then she stood. “I might see you later, Alan. I’m going for a walk. I need some air.” She strode from the room, and Alan turned on Dan.

  “That was totally uncalled for. You can’t just go around accusing people. Roz is a friend. I’ve known her for years, for God’s sake. Sometimes, Dan, I despair of you, I really do.” Alan ran his hands through his hair. “You know what? I’m going up to my room. I need a break from all this.” He stood stiffly.

  “Hang on a sec,” Dan began, but Alan held up his hand to rule out further discussion.

  “I’ll catch up with you later. In the meantime, you might consider finding Roz and apologising. If not for her sake, then for mine.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t want to hear it,” Alan said, then he walked away, leaving Dan on his own.

  But she is a suspect, Dan told himself. Otherwise, why was she so defensive? There was no doubt in Dan’s mind: Roz knew more than she was prepared to admit.

  CHAPTER 13

  Alan stomped up the stairs and along the quiet corridor, but as he neared his hotel room, his anger at Dan’s behaviour was already starting to fade. There were times when Dan didn’t filter his words before he spoke out, and though he sometimes caused offence inadvertently, he didn’t usually set out to hurt anyone. He could be blunt, but he wasn’t malicious.

  Sooner or later, he’s going to get thumped, Alan thought. But I don’t suppose he’ll change his ways. And maybe that was as it should be.

  Reaching his room, Alan slid his keycard into the lock, but as he laid his hand on the handle, voices echoed through the corridor.

  A door opened and a woman murmured something and then giggled, the lilting notes of her laughter sounding familiar. But before Alan could decide where he’d heard that voice before, a man backed into the corridor. And there was no difficulty in identifying him.

  Dominic turned toward Alan and, for an instant, he froze. Then he smiled, sauntering in Alan’s direction with a swagger in his step. “Alan, how are you holding up, dear boy?”

  “Fine.” Alan peered past Dominic, but no one else emerged from the room, and the door clicked firmly shut.

  Following Alan’s gaze, Dominic glanced over his shoulder, then he sent Alan an obsequious smile. “I’ve been doing the rounds, checking in on everyone, making sure they’re all right.”

  “Was that Lucille I heard?” Alan asked. “I thought she’d left.”

  “Ms Blanchette is staying with us for the moment. She prefers to keep herself to herself, but she’s quite a brave little thing.” Dominic smirked. “She has more spirit than you might imagine.”

  Alan kept his expression blank. “I’m glad to hear that she’s all right. And I’m fine too, so there’s no need for me to hold you up. Perhaps I’ll see you later.” Alan pressed on the door handle but it wouldn’t budge, and he realised he’d left the key card in its slot. Grabbing the card, he tried the handle again, but the door remained stubbornly locked.

  “They’re a bit temperamental some of these locks,” Dominic said. “There’s a knack to them. You have to slide the card in just so, and then whip it out again. If you leave it too long, the damned things lock themselves. Would you like me to try?”

  Alan shook his head. “T
hanks, but I’ve got it.” He performed the necessary routine, and this time the lock disengaged with a click. “Right. Goodbye, Dominic.”

  Pushing the door open with more force than was necessary, Alan hurried inside. But he froze in the doorway, still gripping the handle tight.

  Behind him, Dominic said, “Alan? What’s wrong?”

  “That.” Alan pointed. And there, lying on the carpet, was a sheet of neatly folded, ivory-coloured paper.

  Dominic stepped over the threshold, standing uncomfortably close. “Good Lord!” he breathed. “How strange. Has that only just arrived?”

  Alan nodded. “It wasn’t there this morning.”

  “Aren’t you going to read it?”

  “Yes. Of course. But there could be fingerprints or something.”

  “Mm. On the other hand, if it concerns Edward, it could contain valuable information as to his whereabouts.”

  “Maybe I should fetch Dan,” Alan said. “He’s good with this sort of thing.”

  Dominic looked doubtful. “I’ve heard your friend fancies himself as an amateur detective, but do we have time for that? Every second counts.”

  “That’s true. Maybe, if I handle it carefully…” Alan picked up the note, holding it only by its edges, then slowly he unfolded it.

  Like the others, this message had been typewritten, the letters pressed deep into the thick paper. And it contained just two short sentences.

  Dominic leaned even closer to Alan, reading over his shoulder. “From one literary explorer to another. Don’t worry – Edward has nothing to fear.” Dominic grunted. “Is that it?”

  Alan checked the other side of the page, but it was blank. “There’s nothing else.”

  “That’s all she wrote, eh?”

  “She?” Alan asked.

  “Just an expression. Anyway, it looks as though it’s not much help after all. The part about Edward isn’t exactly reassuring, and it doesn’t really tell us anything, does it.”

  “Yes it does,” Alan said. “It tells us that whoever sent the other notes, including the threatening message given to Edward, they’re still here. They’re still in the hotel.”

  Dominic raised his eyebrows. “You could be right. But when I tried to tell the police about Edward’s note, they weren’t interested. They seemed to think it was irrelevant, a tiff between friends.”

  “Even so, we ought to keep them informed.”

  “Very well,” Dominic said wearily. “If I must, I can go and phone them now.” He held out his hand for the note, but Alan shook his head.

  “Thanks, but I’ll hold on to this. I want to show it to Dan.” He paused. “He doesn’t always make a favourable impression, but whatever you may think of him, Dan has a first-rate mind. I value his opinion.”

  Looking distinctly put out, Dominic lowered his hand and stepped back. “Have it your own way.” He glanced up and down the corridor, then he lowered his voice. “But whatever you do, try not to alarm the others. They’re skittish enough as it is, and I really don’t want them upset any further. All right?”

  “We’ll do whatever it takes,” Alan replied. “We’re going to do our best to find out what happened to Edward, and if that means stepping on a few toes, then so be it.”

  Dominic fixed Alan with a scolding stare. “I don’t know what’s got into you, Alan. You used to be such an easy-going chap. I’m not sure that your new friend is a good influence.”

  Alan bridled, squaring his shoulders and taking a swift step closer to Dominic, forcing him back. “I trust Dan. And right now, that’s more than I can say for you, Dominic. You might want to bear that in mind.”

  “Is that so? Then I have nothing further to say.” Dominic turned on his heel and marched away, heading for the main staircase.

  Alan looked down at the sheet of paper in his hands. It was true that it didn’t give much away, but he’d see what Dan made of it. And if that meant eating a slice of humble pie, then so be it.

  CHAPTER 14

  Dan was still in the conservatory, sitting in exactly the same place, when Alan arrived.

  He listened carefully while Alan explained exactly what had happened, then he took the note from Alan and read it, holding it up to the light to check the watermark. The paper was identical to the other notes, and although Dan couldn’t be sure, it looked as though this message had been written with the same typewriter as the others.

  Dan re-folded the note and handed it back to Alan. “You’d better keep this. But I wouldn’t worry too much about fingerprints and such. Whoever wrote these notes, they’ll have been careful. They’ll have worn gloves.”

  “That wouldn’t surprise me,” Alan replied. “But that reference to Edward proves something. It shows that the person sending these notes is still around, so that rules out a few suspects, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes. It also begs a question: was the typewriter already here or did they bring it with them?”

  “A portable machine would be reasonably light,” Alan said. “I have an old Olivetti at home, a Lettera 32. It has its own carry case, so something like that would be easy enough to carry.”

  “Yes, but it would have to be concealed. The culprit wouldn’t want to be seen lugging a typewriter case around.”

  Alan clicked his fingers. “Edward’s second suitcase. Matthew said it was heavy. Now we know why.”

  “That’s an interesting theory. Unfortunately, it looks as though your note was written after Edward and the second suitcase disappeared.”

  “Simple. Someone took the case, typewriter and all, and brought it back to the hotel. Or perhaps it never left. Someone could have stolen the suitcase and hidden it in their room.”

  “You’re forgetting that it was Edward who received the threatening note. I really don’t think he typed it himself. Still, you’re right about one thing: the typewriter could have been hidden inside a larger bag.”

  “Hm. I wonder if anyone heard anything.”

  “What do you mean?” Dan asked.

  “The typewriter in use. Even a portable is quite noisy, and the walls in this hotel are pretty thin. There’s a chance that someone will have heard the notes being typed.” Alan frowned. “I wonder why I didn’t receive my note at the same time as everyone else.”

  “My guess is that someone happened to come along just as your note was about to be posted under the door. The culprit had no choice but to walk away. But there’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “Did you notice the gap between the two sentences? It’s a little wider than you’d normally expect, wouldn’t you say?”

  Alan unfolded the note to study it. “Yes, I think you’re right. It’s certainly wider than standard double spacing.”

  “And what does that tell you?”

  “It was added afterwards,” Alan said. “Someone fed the paper back into the machine, and added the line about Edward.”

  “Correct. And interestingly, the second line is perfectly level with the first. I haven’t used a typewriter in years, but from what I remember, it can be quite tricky to get the paper lined up properly. This person knew exactly what they were doing, and once more we can see how careful they are.”

  “The more modern, electric typewriters are fairly easy to line up — they can load the paper automatically.” Alan held the paper closer to his eyes. “But I think this was done on an older machine. Some of the letters are darker than others, and that happens when the ribbon starts to wear out.”

  Dan tutted under his breath. “I’m a fool. When we were talking to Daphne, we should have asked her if she’d seen a typewriter in any of the rooms. Or she might have noticed a lot of paper in a waste bin.”

  Alan stood. “There’s no time like the present. Let’s go and find her.”

  “Why not?” Dan pushed himself to his feet. “We’ll ask at reception.”

  From behind the reception desk, Matthew looked up as Dan and Alan approached. “Good morning, gentlemen. How are you today? Can I help you w
ith anything?”

  “We’re fine, thanks.” Dan leaned his elbows on the counter. “But yes, there is something you can do for us. We’d like to have a word with one of the housekeepers, preferably Daphne. Can you tell us where she is?”

  “If there’s a problem with the cleanliness of your room, I’ll be happy to resolve the issue.”

  “There’s no problem,” Alan said. “We just want to ask a couple of questions in relation to Edward’s disappearance.”

  Matthew’s smile vanished. “Oh. Oh dear. Has something… happened?”

  Dan shook his head. “It’s nothing to worry about. We thought one of housekeepers might’ve spotted something, that’s all.”

  “I see. I’m sorry, but with things being so quiet at this time of year, Daphne’s managing the housekeeping on her own, and she’s gone home. But she’s on a split shift today. She’ll be back again this evening, in the restaurant.” Matthew offered a nervous smile. “If there’s anything I can do to help…”

  “We want to know if anyone has a typewriter in their room,” Dan said. “We thought someone might have noticed it when they were cleaning the rooms, or they may have heard it being used.”

  “Or one of the other guests might’ve heard it,” Alan put in. “Has anybody complained about the noise of somebody typing?”

  Matthew shook his head. “There haven’t been any complaints about that kind of noise. Classical music at all hours, yes, but typing, no.”

  “Who’s been playing music?” Dan asked.

  “I really shouldn’t say, sir. Please, forget I mentioned it.” Matthew smiled. “But if it’s a typewriter you’re after, I’m sure I can lay my hands on one. We have a couple of old machines in storage.”

  “Where?” Dan asked. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I wasn’t entirely clear about your question. You asked about Daphne, not a typewriter.”

  “Yes, yes,” Dan said, “but where are these typewriters?”

  “In one of the storerooms. In the basement. I can have someone fetch one of them up for you, if you like.”

  Dan forced himself to speak slowly. “Matthew, I need you to take us to these typewriters right now. And I don’t want to hear any arguments about rules and regulations or health and safety. This could help us find Mr Hatcher. His disappearance could be ruinous for this hotel’s reputation, so I’m sure you’d like the situation to be resolved as soon as possible.”