A Drowning in Bath

by L. A. Nisula

  With all of her other conversational partners gone, Milly turned to the newcomer. “I didn’t see you at breakfast. You must be Mr. Mulgrove.”

  Mr. Mulgrove looked up and realized she was expecting him to speak to her. “I find some of the company less than ideal in the morning, and so I dine as early as possible.”

  I wasn’t certain if we should take offense at that, as Milly had invited herself over to his table. Perhaps, if she did, she would stop imposing herself on every gentleman she saw.

  Milly didn’t seem to notice that the comment could be applied to us. “Yes, the Fredrickson children can be quite boisterous in the morning, but they are so adorable, aren’t they?”

  Mr. Mulgrove put down his newspaper, apparently resigned to the fact that he would not have any peace while we were in the dining room. “Had I known such charming company was available, I would have considered the inconvenience worth it.”

  At least Milly didn’t believe that bit of nonsense. I hoped she didn’t, anyway. She smiled and said, “You’re too kind, Mr. Mulgrove,” but she also began eating her soup with more enthusiasm.

  Mr. Mulgrove continued to watch us, and as we were the ones who had disturbed his meal—well, as Milly was—I thought we ought to at least make an effort at conversation. “Are you in Bath on business or holiday?”

  “A bit of both, I have a few business contacts to meet in town. Which reminds me, I have a few things to deal with in my room. If you ladies would excuse me.” He gave us a small bow and hurried out of the room with half of his food still uneaten. I wondered if Milly noticed how much half-eaten food seemed left in her wake.

  Chapter 3

  I’D HOPED LUNCHEON would distract Milly from bathing, or at the very least make her sleepy enough to want to rest first, but as we left the dining room, she led me directly to the shop at the back of the lobby. It had been closed the evening before, so neither of us had seen inside, but Milly seemed to know precisely where to go, leading me to believe she’d researched this part of the holiday more than I would have thought.

  The shop also sold a variety of over-priced sundries, convenient if one was packing in a hurry as we had been, and a few souvenirs of the hotel. Milly picked up a bottle of Essence d’Hôtel Fellcroft as she passed the display and put it down again, as the cloying floral fragrance wafted out without her needing to open it. “The bathing costumes are in the back.” She gestured vaguely towards the back of the shop.

  So I would not manage to avoid bathing. If I’d had my way, “taking the waters” would have meant nothing more than sampling a cup at the Pump Room. But I knew Milly wasn’t giving up on it, so I followed her.

  The back of the shop was taken up with two long counters with shelves behind them. The young woman at the counter on the left asked for our measurements then went to the shelves and returned with two blue wool bathing costumes of similar nautical style, Milly’s with red trim, mine with white, and black stockings, slippers with ribbons to hold them on, and matching bathing caps. “If something doesn’t fit right, there’s an attendant in the changing room; simply send her over for the correct size.” She filled out the receipt and slid it across the counter.

  At least I knew Milly knew how little I wanted to be doing this. She took the receipt and glanced at the amount, then opened her handbag and produced enough money to cover not only the rental of her costume but mine as well. She was probably worried that I would use her trick of forgetting my money to avoid it. She also thought to ask for directions to the changing rooms.

  The changing rooms were down the hallway that led to the baths, men’s on the left, ladies' on the right. There was an attendant who greeted us when we entered, a young woman not much older than Miss Caldwell. She directed us to the changing area behind her then returned to her penny novelette before we’d fully entered the room. As she was more than halfway through Lord Irving’s Ghost, I assumed she was at some critical juncture in the plot that was far more interesting that anything the guests could manage to do.

  The back of the room had a series of screens to change behind and long benches for tying slippers and adjusting hair. I choose the screen in the corner and changed quickly. Milly was still fussing when I stepped out from behind the screen, so I took my time putting my things away. There seemed to be nowhere to store our clothing besides a row of hooks along the side wall. Several items were already hanging there, including a pink dress very similar to the green one Miss Emmaline had been wearing the day before, and some very small dresses that could only belong to the Fredrickson girls. I shook out my clothes, then hung them up and arranged my shoes and stockings beneath. There wasn’t anyplace to secure valuables, and as the attendant didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything but the door and Lord Irving, I wasn’t certain what to do with the room key. The bathing costume had deep pockets which closed with a button and seemed secure enough, so I slipped the room key in the right one. I could feel the weight of it against my leg, so I thought I would notice if it slipped out, although what I would do if it ended up at the bottom of the bathing pool I had no idea. Perhaps one of Milly’s gentlemen could be pursued to retrieve it.

  Milly finally got her clothing changed as I was doing up my slippers, then proceeded to spend a great deal of time adjusting her hair under her cap. Rather than simply smoothing it back, she seemed to be trying to get it curl around her face. I refrained from offering to help. The longer we spent getting ready, the less time we’d have for bathing. When Milly had finished with her hair, she spent a good bit more time deciding how to best hang up her things, ending up by taking three hooks and almost putting one of her stockings in Miss Emmaline’s shoe. “Oh, you’re done, Cassie? That’s good. We don’t want to waste too much time.”

  I did, but I didn’t say that. An argument would delay things, but I wasn’t quite that desperate. Not yet, anyways.

  When we exited the changing room, we ran directly into Mr. Fellcroft, almost literally. At least he did not seem put out at having nearly been knocked over.

  “Miss Pengear, Miss Prynne, I see you are taking advantage of our convenient baths. Allow me to show you the way, although I’m sure you can find it on your own from here.”

  Had he not added the last bit, I would have been annoyed, but then I was in a mood to be annoyed. As it was, I accepted the arm he offered, and we allowed ourselves to be led the short distance to the main bathing room.

  “A bit daring to have mixed bathing, but the other baths in town are doing it, and it does make for a nice, social atmosphere. You can see we have some young families who like to take advantage of the opportunity to relax together.” He nodded through the doorway towards the Fredricksons, who were together in the water, but I had my doubts on their ability to relax, as Mrs. Fredrickson was trying to soothe their baby while keeping the oldest daughter close by and Mr. Fredrickson was chasing the son and younger daughter, trying to keep them both away from the deeper water.

  “You can see it’s shallow around the edges; you can simply slide in if you like. If you’d like to try swimming, the middle is deep enough.”

  I made a note to stay near the edges as we entered the bathing room. It had been designed in a pseudo-Roman style: lots of grand arches and stone columns everywhere which didn’t seem to have any role in supporting the ceiling, with the large, tiled pool taking up most of the space and a stone floor about as wide as the pavement outside surrounding it for guest to walk on if they weren’t in the water. The wall had a rather nice copy of a frieze from Pompeii around it, but otherwise everything was in various shades of stone.

  “You see, Cassie, genuine water from Bath.” Milly pointed to a sign by the entrance until she was certain I’d read it.

  “So it says.” As Mr. Fellcroft was there, I decided against pointing out that we also received “genuine water from Bath” in the washbasin every time we turned on the tap.

  Mr. Fellcroft smiled proudly. “So you can see we have a first-class place here. Go on through and ge
t in. You’ll find the temperature surprisingly warm.”

  But I’d already spotted the steam heater partially hidden by the Roman columns. There was a strong, almost cloying, scent of mixed flowers which got stronger the closer we went to the water. “Is that the same scent you were selling in the lobby?” If so, I wanted to be certain to avoid it.

  “A variation. Natural springs have minerals in the water, you see, so something must be done to cover the scent.”

  “I see.” Although I suspected, in this case, the purpose was to hide the lack of mineral smells.

  Milly grabbed my arm and all but dragged me down to the edge of the pool. “This is just what you need, Cassie, a nice, relaxing soak to get your mind off of all that police work.”

  “Police work?” Mr. Fellcroft asked, clearly surprised.

  “I do typing for Scotland Yard,” I said before Milly could tell him all about any and every case she had been even marginally present for.

  “I see. Well, yes, this will relax you then. If you ladies need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” Mr. Fellcroft bowed and left us at the edge of the bath.

  I moved away from the entrance until I was in a relatively empty area of the pool then slid into the water. Mr. Fellcroft was right, it was quite a bit warmer than I expected, but then judging by the size of the steam heater I shouldn’t have been surprised. Milly splashed in beside me.

  “This is nice, isn’t it, Cassie? We can just sit here and watch the other guests.”

  I would have rather walked around the city, but she had promised I could do what I wanted after this, so I merely said, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” and looked at our fellow bathers.

  There did not seem to be many people from outside of the hotel taking advantage of mixed bathing. Mrs. Grangeway and Miss Grangeway were there, giggling to each other and probably thinking how very daring it was. It seemed Mrs. Grangeway wasn’t as stuffy as Miss Caldwell believed. The Fredrickson family was there, with Mrs. Fredrickson now trying to stop the children from bothering all of the other bathers while Mr. Fredrickson looked a bit lost holding the baby. Miss Caldwell was venturing away from the edge of the pool to paddle around. Miss Morrison was nowhere in sight. So much for her role as chaperone, I thought. I was surprised to see Mr. Armstrong there; I’d had the impression he was planning to spend his entire holiday on business. He must have found a spare moment, or have been cleverer than I’d thought and trying earlier to discourage interruptions while he was bathing. Mr. Douglas was also there, swimming from one end of the pool to the other and back again. There were only two people I didn’t recognize from the hotel, a young blond gentleman who was lounging against the edge of the pool and a dark-haired man easing himself into the water with the look of someone actually coming for the water’s therapeutic qualities, for his back, I guessed, from the way he moved. Mr. Langley was walking along the edge of the pool, wearing a very modern bathing costume that left part of his legs exposed and stopping to talk with different guests as he passed them.

  Milly was surprisingly quiet as I watched the other guests. I knew I ought to be pleased, but I couldn’t help worrying and glanced over to see what she was doing. I was surprised to see she was simply watching everyone. “Enjoying yourself?”

  “There isn’t much going on, is there?”

  “Well, it is supposed to be restful. And I suppose there isn’t much to do in the water besides soak or swim. Or splash around like the Fredrickson children.”

  “I suppose,” Milly said tugging on a stray bit of hair that had fallen from her bathing cap and was refusing to curl artistically.

  Perhaps she wouldn’t want me to come back here if she wasn’t enjoying it as much as she’d thought she would. From long experience, I knew she would keep to the letter of her promise not to make me come back with her, but she would not consider it against her word to try and cajole me into it.

  Mr. Douglas swam over and smiled. “And how are you ladies enjoying the scandal of mixed bathing?”

  As he didn’t even look in Miss Caldwell’s direction, I wondered if I had guessed wrong and Miss Emmaline had been right when she said he wasn’t looking for a bride. Perhaps he was simply an incorrigible rake. Or perhaps Milly had given the impression that she was better off financially than she was.

  “It’s not very scandalous, is it?” Milly sounded a bit disappointed.

  “I’ve found that to be true of most things. Here, allow me.” He tucked the lock of hair Milly had been fiddling with back up under her cap. “And you, Miss Pengear?”

  I was saved from answering by Milly clutching at her ear and saying, “My earring. I think I’ve dropped it. It’s not very valuable, but still...”

  “I’ll find it,” Mr. Douglas offered and drove under the water. I was tempted to ask Milly why on earth she’d worn earrings to bathe, but I suspected I wouldn’t like the answer. And it was probably best she hadn’t left them in the changing room.

  For a few moments, Mr. Douglas was a dark shadow just under the water, then I lost sight of him. He bobbed up a few yards away, but apparently hadn’t found the earring as he dove back under almost at once. I could see his shadow again for a moment, then lost track again as he slid into the shadows cast by the columns. I scanned the area, trying to see where he was looking. It seemed odd that he would think Milly’s earring would have drifted so far away from us. I would have expected something metallic to sink straight to the bottom.

  With nothing better to do, I continued to scan the area, trying to anticipate where Mr. Douglas would surface next. I spotted Miss Caldwell moving towards the empty end of the pool. It seemed as if she were going towards someone she wanted to speak to, particularly as she was wading, not attempting to swim, but I didn’t see anyone at that end of the pool. I was going to dismiss it as one more bit of foolishness, when someone bobbed out of the water behind her and wrapped his arm around her. She started giggling, so I assumed it was some sort of a game and turned away to comment to Milly on how ridiculous it was, only Milly was more interested in looking for Mr. Douglas, so I didn’t bother and returned to trying to guess where Mr. Douglas would surface next. Then I heard a small splash and realized something was off.

  I turned back and tried to get a look at the man with Miss Caldwell, but his back was to me, and he was blocking my view of her. And then he dropped back under the water, seeming to take her with him, and I realized what was off. He had been holding something to her face, some sort of a pouch, brown, I thought, but hard to tell since it was wet and shiny.

  For all the murders I’d investigated, I’d never actually seen one committed. “Miss Caldwell!” I exclaimed, but my voice wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the engine running the steam heater or the splashing of the other bathers. Miss Caldwell resurfaced for a moment but didn’t move, floated limply in the water for another moment, then disappeared under the water again, slowly though, as if she were being pulled down.

  Milly had heard me, and turned to see what I was looking at. Milly never had a problem being heard, and when she screamed, “Oh my lord!” everyone in the bath noticed.

  At Milly’s scream, Mr. Douglas popped out of the water several yards from where I would have expected to see him and swam towards Miss Caldwell. I heard a splash and a moment later Mr. Armstrong swam past us, also moving towards Miss Caldwell, who was still floating low in the water. But the figure I’d seen had already dropped under the water again. “Did you see him?” I asked Milly.

  “He was dragging her under.”

  “I know.”

  We stopped talking as Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Douglas started for the edge of the pool away from us, bringing Miss Caldwell with them. I looked at the other bathers. The Fredricksons were hustling the children away from the water. Mr. Langley had run around the edge of the bath and opened a side door for them that seemed to lead to the outside. The Bates sisters got out of the pool as well, but stayed near the wall, watching. I lost track of Miss Grangeway and Mrs. Grangeway. M
r. Langley and one of the men from town—the one with the bad back—hurried over to help Mr. Douglas and Mr. Armstrong get Miss Caldwell out of the pool. I didn’t see anyone else get out of the water. No one who could have been holding Miss Caldwell down. It had to be one of the people here. I boosted myself onto the edge of the pool and looked around the room, but large portions of the area along the edge of the bath were hidden by the columns. Still, I could see most of the water, and there didn’t seem to be anyone left in it. Milly noticed and followed suit. We stayed by the wall, watching.

  Once Miss Caldwell was out of the water, Mr. Langley turned and yelled, “Dr. Gaines, are you still here?”

  No one answered, but he’d barely finished calling when a police constable ran in through the door the Fredricksons had been escorted out of. I watched him kneel down by Miss Caldwell and speak to the men hovering. I glanced over at Miss Bates. When she looked in my direction, I caught her eye. She shook her head. So they had been too late.

  I heard footsteps on the tile near us, and Miss Grangeway and her mother came around the nearest column. Miss Grangeway went to stand by Milly, and I could hear her whisper, “It’s too terrible, isn’t it?”

  I didn’t hear Milly’s reply as the constable stood up and said in a voice loud enough to carry across the room, “My name is Constable Marchcliff. I will need to take statements from all of you so we a have a clear picture of what you saw, but I will try not to keep you longer than absolutely necessary. Please do not leave until I have spoken with you.”

  He started with the Bates sisters, but I couldn’t hear any of what he asked them. He didn’t speak to them for long, but then perhaps they hadn’t seen much. Next he went to the men gathered on the side of the bath. He spent longer with them, although the only one who he seemed to question thoroughly was Mr. Langley, and even that was shorter than I would have anticipated. The other gentlemen left, leaving Mr. Langley standing by the edge of the pool.