‘Please, don’t distress yourself,’ said Sukey gently. ‘We’re just trying to find out what happened, and we simply want to know if you saw anything – anything at all that attracted your attention and made you walk towards the lake.’
Rosie shook her head. ‘No, I saw nothing unusual. I often take a stroll down there after I’ve had my evening meal.’
‘What time would that be?’
‘The kitchen staff give us our meal about eight o’clock, after the guests have been served, so I suppose it was soon after half past eight – maybe a quarter to nine.’
‘You didn’t hear anything, like a shout, for example, or the sound of anyone running?’
‘No.’
‘Was there anyone else around?’
‘I didn’t see anyone.’
Sukey glanced at Vicky, who nodded and said, ‘Well, thank you, Rosie, that will be all for now.’
They went back to reception, where Maxine was sitting at the computer. Sukey noticed that her hands were shaking; evidently she too was affected by what had happened. ‘Most of the guests are in the bar,’ she said, ‘but a few have gone down to the lake to try and view the scene of the crime. Morbid curiosity I suppose.’
‘I assure you, there’s no suggestion of foul play,’ Vicky snapped.
‘Sorry, just a figure of speech,’ said Maxine. Her tone was civil but Sukey sensed that she found Vicky’s manner irritating. ‘Anyway, your officers have been shooing them away.’
‘Quite right too.’ Vicky was about to speak again when her phone rang. She took it from her pocket and moved away, spoke briefly and then beckoned to Sukey.
‘That was the doctor,’ she said in a low voice. ‘He’s at the morgue … says Rainbird suffered a blow to the back of the head before falling into the water.’
‘So we might have a murder on our hands,’ said Sukey.
For the first time since their arrival at the hotel, Vicky’s face showed a trace of amusement. ‘That’d spoil DI Rathbone’s weekend, wouldn’t it?’
TWO
Vicky called DI Rathbone and gave him the news. After a brief conversation she said, ‘Right, Guv, see you shortly.’ She winked at Sukey as she ended the call. ‘He’s not best pleased!’ she said gleefully.
‘I take it he’s joining us here.’ Sukey glanced at her watch. ‘It’s gone eleven. I’m surprised he didn’t tell us to go through the formalities and say we’d all be back here first thing in the morning.’
‘It so happens he was having a drink with DCI Leach when I called, so he could hardly get out of it. My guess is it’ll just be a token appearance, to make it known that there’s a senior officer in charge.’ She frowned suddenly. ‘I wonder why he feels he has to show up here now. When he was a mere sergeant he’d have taken charge at this stage and given out team orders, reporting directly to Mr Leach when he needed instructions how to proceed. Oh well,’ she went on with a shrug, ‘he’d had years of experience as a sergeant – maybe I’m too recently promoted to be allowed to handle this on my own.’
‘Or Sir is conscious of his own status,’ said Sukey. ‘Don’t you think we ought to tell the manager and Mr Freeman that he’s on his way?’
‘Yes, of course. You speak to the manager and I’ll go and find Mr Freeman. We’ll need statements from all the staff and the people attending the conference; we’ll have to see what Sir says, but I don’t think they’ll take kindly to being questioned at this hour. Some of them may have already gone to their rooms. And ask Sergeant Drury to set up a round-the-clock guard on what is now a murder scene.’
‘Will do.’ Sukey had a brief word with Maxine before going back to the lakeside. When she returned, Vicky was already in conversation with the manager, a stocky man in his fifties with florid features.
‘I’ve told Mr Freeman and Mr Chapman of the latest development,’ she said. ‘Mr Freeman has full details of everyone at the conference; he’s gone to his room to collect the list and Mr Chapman will have it photocopied for us.’
‘That’ll be a great help,’ said Sukey.
Moments later Freeman appeared and handed a folder to Vicky who passed it to Chapman.
‘I’ll get Maxine to photocopy these for you right away,’ the manager promised. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’
‘I thought you’d like to have a copy of this weekend’s programme,’ said Freeman. He gave a folder to Vicky. ‘There are notes about the works we’ll be listening to and it also includes the timetable and some background information about our courses in general.’
‘Thank you,’ said Vicky. ‘Please sit down, Mr Freeman,’ she went on, indicating a circle of armchairs in front of an open grate, on which the remains of a log fire were still glowing. ‘This must have come as a great shock.’
Freeman made a helpless gesture with his hands. ‘I just can’t believe there’s a murderer in our group.’
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions,’ said Vicky. ‘At the moment we’re treating this as an unexplained death.’
‘I don’t understand. What’s the—?’
‘Never mind that now!’ Vicky interrupted. ‘We need to ask you some questions.’
Seeing that Freeman was beginning to show signs of agitation and that Vicky’s patience was wearing thin, Sukey hastily intervened. ‘I’m afraid we’re not allowed to reveal any further information at this stage,’ she explained. ‘It’s against the rules.’
He shrugged. ‘OK. I suppose you have to follow procedure.’
‘I’ve just spoken to Detective Inspector Rathbone, who will take charge of this case from now on,’ Vicky resumed. ‘He’ll be with us shortly, so meanwhile perhaps you’d tell us something about this event you’re running. How would you describe it?’
‘It’s one of a number I organize during the year for music lovers. I call them musical weekends, but this one is rather special. It lasts a bit longer than most of the others and we end with a party on the last night.’
‘You’re a music teacher?’
‘I lectured in music at Branwell College until my retirement five years ago. It was then that I started organizing these events.’
‘So you’ve been running them for five years?’ Freeman nodded. ‘Are they always held at Dallington Manor?’
‘No, at various locations, but we always come here for the March one.’
‘What about the people who attend? Are they the same ones each time?’
‘Oh no, they tend to vary according to what’s on the programme and how far they have to travel to the venue. We do have what you might call a nucleus of regular attendees.’
‘Was Mr Rainbird one of them?’
‘Oh yes, very much so.’
‘How did he get on with the other people in the party?’
Freeman thought for a moment before speaking. ‘Well enough I suppose, but I wouldn’t describe him as a social animal – a bit of an oddball in some ways. He was very knowledgeable about music and always ready to talk about it or anything connected with it. I’m afraid he tended to flaunt his expertise and experience and some people were made to feel a bit – well, almost like novices you might say. He sometimes brought the score of a work such as a symphony or a piano concerto with him and I noticed him moving his hands as if he was conducting the piece. Some people may have found that distracting but it didn’t bother me – I just looked the other way. He also had a habit of waffling on at length about a particular work we were studying and how he’d heard better performances by this or that orchestra or soloist.’
‘You must have found that irritating.’
‘Not particularly. He was entitled to his opinion.’
‘Would you describe him as a heavy drinker?’
‘On the contrary – I’ve never seen him drink anything stronger than mineral water or fruit juice.’
‘You mentioned “performances”. Do I take it you sometimes arrange live performances?’
‘Occasionally. Most of the time I use CDs from my extensive collection an
d play them on my own audio equipment. I do sometimes invite a friend – a professional pianist or a singer for example – to give a solo recital, but that would be impossible with orchestral works.’
‘Yes, I can understand that,’ Sukey remarked. ‘I can’t imagine there are many among your venues with a concert hall on the premises.’
‘Actually, some of our programmes do include a visit to a live concert or opera.’
Chapman returned with the folder, which he gave back to Freeman. ‘I’ve copied everything,’ he said, handing some sheets of paper to Vicky before sitting down with the others. ‘Thank you, Doug,’ he added as a waiter appeared with a tray. ‘I thought you might appreciate some coffee.’
‘That’s super, thank you very much,’ said Vicky.
At that moment they heard the sound of a car; moments later the door was flung open and Rathbone entered and strode towards them. ‘Who’s in charge here?’ he demanded with a touch of aggression. Then he caught sight of the cafetière and his expression brightened. ‘Well, that’s a good start.’ He took the cup that Sukey hastily filled for him and sat down while introductions were made. ‘Right, Sergeant, let’s have your report.’
He drank his coffee and listened carefully while Vicky recounted the sequence of events leading up to the doctor’s call from the morgue. ‘Sergeant Drury is containing the scene, the deceased’s room has been secured and Mr Freeman has given us a list of the names of everyone in his group. We haven’t taken statements from any of them yet.’
‘No point in making a start on that tonight, so long as everyone knows they have to stay in the hotel until we’ve spoken to them,’ said Rathbone.
‘I have made that clear to all the guests, Guv, and there have been no objections,’ said Vicky. ‘Most of the staff have already gone home, but Mr Chapman has all their details and in any case they’ll be back on duty in the morning. The staff that are still here are resident. Mr Freeman has been telling us something about the programme of musical events that he organizes during the year, of which this weekend forms a part,’ she continued. ‘He mentioned that Mr Rainbird was … something of a loner in the group, would you say, sir?’
‘That’s one way of putting it,’ Freeman said with a faint smile. ‘What I meant was that he wasn’t exactly flavour of the month with some of the others because he had rather a high opinion of himself and his musical knowledge. As I said, he liked to give the impression that his knowledge was superior to that of the hoi polloi, but I never heard him say anything exactly humiliating to any one individual – it was just the kind of impression he gave. But it’s true he always came and left alone and never to my knowledge was particularly close to other members of the party, even those he’d met a number of times before.’
‘I see.’ Rathbone took another mouthful of coffee. ‘Have you ever witnessed any serious unpleasantness between him and any other person?’
Freeman shook his head. ‘Not really. I have overheard people muttering about what a big-head he is – was – and occasionally someone would challenge him on a particular point during a coffee break, but nothing untoward.’
‘Well, thank you, Mr Freeman. Vicky and Sukey, I take it you’ve been noting all this?’ After they obediently said, ‘Yes, Guv,’ Rathbone turned to Chapman. ‘When did you learn of the accident to Mr Rainbird, sir?’
‘It was around nine o’clock when Rosie – she works with our receptionist, Maxine – came rushing into the hotel in a state of near hysterics. I left her with Maxine and called Ben, one of my staff who has had first-aid training, and we hurried down to the lake.’ Chapman went on to recount the sequence of events that Vicky and Sukey had learned of during their initial enquiries.
‘What do you know about the victim?’
‘He’s stayed here with Mr Freeman’s group on a number of occasions, but I know nothing about him personally.’
‘Has he ever caused any kind of trouble or upset any of your staff?’
‘Not that I’m aware of – he’s certainly never complained to me or my wife, and no member of the staff has complained about him to me.’
‘I see. Well, thank you for your time gentlemen. I propose to leave it there for tonight. We’ll have to get statements from everyone tomorrow. A small team of uniformed officers will be on duty all night and I’d appreciate it if you’d allow them to use the hotel facilities when necessary.’
‘Of course. Maybe they’d welcome a hot drink or snack?’
‘I’m sure they would. Thank you – and thank you for the coffee.’
As the detectives returned to their respective cars, Rathbone said, ‘I’ll see you at eight thirty sharp in my office tomorrow. Yes, I’m prepared for it to turn out to be an accidental death,’ he went on without allowing Vicky or Sukey an opportunity to speak, ‘but I’m not taking any chances.’ He got into his car, slammed the door and drove off, leaving the two exchanging resigned glances.
‘You know what,’ said Vicky as she buckled on her seat belt, ‘I reckon he’d like it to be a really tricky murder case so that when he gets a result he’ll notch up a whole rack of Brownie points.’
‘Don’t you mean when we get a result?’ said Sukey.
For the first time that evening, Vicky gave a spontaneous laugh. ‘You could well be right. It’ll be interesting to see how he handles it.’
When Sukey reached home she found a message on her answering service. It was from Harry Matthews, whom Vicky referred to as her partner but Sukey always said, ‘I prefer “significant other” – it sounds less permanent.’ She knew almost by heart before she opened it what he would say: ‘Are you OK? You were supposed to be home by half past ten and it’s gone eleven thirty. Your mobile’s switched off. What’s going on? Call me as soon as you get this, never mind how late. Love you.’
Sukey pressed the answer button. ‘Sorry, love, I should have warned you,’ she said as soon as he came on the line. ‘Vicky and I were ordered to respond to a request for police presence at an unexpected death at a hotel about twenty miles away.’
‘Ordered by the uppity DI Rathbone, I suppose. No chance of him attending of course.’
Despite her weariness, Sukey could not restrain a chuckle. ‘He had to turn out in the end – what appeared to be an accidental death might turn out to be suspicious.’
‘Sounds interesting!’ Harry was the senior crime reporter for the local newspaper and she could visualize his expression becoming suddenly alert. ‘You’ll keep me posted, won’t you – subject to the usual restrictions, of course.’
She decided to ignore the last remark. ‘He wants us on duty at eight thirty sharp tomorrow morning.’
‘But tomorrow’s Sunday,’ Harry protested.
‘I know, but it happens to be our turn for weekend duty – remember?’
‘Sorry, I’ve been away covering a trial in Birmingham and I clean forgot. Have you had anything to eat?’
‘Not a lot. I’m going to have a quick snack and then bed.’
‘Well mind you have a good breakfast tomorrow. Keep in touch, love you.’
‘Love you too,’ she said softly as the sound of a kiss came over the wire.
When Sukey checked in at headquarters the following morning she had a brief word with the staff in CID to ask if any further messages from Dallington Manor had come in before going straight to DI Rathbone’s office. Two other detective constables, Tim Pringle and Mike Haskins, were already there and Vicky joined them a few moments later.
‘I’ve spoken to the manager and told him I’m sending a team of detectives to continue with our enquiries,’ Rathbone began. ‘Freeman and his lot are having breakfast and their morning session begins at nine thirty. Vicky, I want you and Sukey to have a thorough check on the area where the accident happened. Things that got missed last night might be visible in daylight. Have a further talk with Freeman and see if he can identify any of the members of his group who might possibly have crossed swords with Rainbird and if so I want you two to talk to them. Mi
ke and Tim, you will begin by taking statements from people Freeman feels are less likely to have done so. I know this sounds a bit hit and miss,’ he went on, ‘but until we get some idea of the general ambience within the group we’re unlikely to spot anything that looks like a lead. Any questions?’
‘What will you be doing, Guv?’ asked Vicky slyly.
‘I do have several other cases to keep a check on,’ he replied sharply, ‘and please bear in mind that this is officially being treated as an unexplained death at the moment. If any of the press show up you tell them nothing.’ The final remark was intended to be for the whole team, but Sukey’s relationship with Harry was well known and she was aware that it was addressed principally at her.
When the team arrived at the hotel they found Chapman at reception talking to Freeman. After Vicky had introduced Tim and Mike, Freeman said, ‘Mr Chapman has very kindly set aside some rooms where you can take statements, as requested by Inspector Rathbone.’
‘That’s excellent, thank you very much,’ said Vicky. She outlined Rathbone’s instructions for the conduct of the interviews. ‘I believe your programme begins in twenty minutes or so and we don’t want to disrupt it any more than necessary. It would be very helpful if you could identify a few people from the list of attendees who you feel might have had disagreements with Mr Rainbird.’
Freeman glanced through the list for a few moments before saying, ‘There are a few that come to mind.’ He put a tick against several names. ‘Eric Bowen, Hugh Pearson and Charlotte Lang – she’s in a wheelchair and brings her carer Millie with her. Poor Millie; Charlotte’s a bit of a bully – if anything goes wrong it’s always Millie’s fault, but she takes it without a murmur. And there’s a couple; Trixie – short for Beatrix – and Stan Day. They’ve been regulars since I started the business. And then there’s Romeo.’
‘Romeo who?’ asked Sukey.
‘Search me. I heard him busking in a shopping centre two or three years ago and I could hardly believe what I was hearing. He’s got a remarkable voice and when he’d finished singing the bird catcher’s song from The Magic Flute – unaccompanied except for a set of pan pipes – I asked him where he’d trained, but he insisted it was a natural voice and he’d worked on it by himself. I found it hard to believe, but that was all he’d say. He looks like a gypsy and he just turns up at these events from time to time and asks me if it’s OK to give one or two solo performances during the free afternoon for anyone who cares to stay and listen. He lives in an old motor caravan and he’s grateful for the few quid I give him to entertain the older, less active members of the party who tend to stay in the hotel instead of going out shopping or sightseeing. Some of the regulars say this weekend wouldn’t be the same without him. Needless to say, Lance wasn’t impressed. He stayed once to hear him – out of curiosity I suppose – but walked out in the middle of a song.’
The Scent of Death--A Sukey Reyholds British police procedural Page 2
