'Promises! Here's your car, I think. Have a good sleep on the train, and good luck.'
*
Dodie was in London in good time to go home and freshen up. She had phoned Jamie, and he said he had arranged for Phillipa to see her later in the evening, so Dodie found herself a meal from the freezer, then called her regular taxi firm to take her to Ruislip, where Phillipa had a studio flat. It was in a converted Victorian house and judging by the bells outside was on the top floor.
The girl looked frightened when she let Dodie in, and spent the time climbing two steep flights of stairs apologising for having to go so far up. Dodie was too out of breath to respond.
'I'm sorry, the flat's a mess, but I was working late, I only got home twenty minutes ago and I haven't had time to clear up. Do come in. Would you like a coffee? Or a cup of tea? Or perhaps fruit juice?'
Thinking that having something to do would calm the child, Dodie said she'd love a coffee, but make it black, please.
Phillipa was tall and slender, with ash blonde hair piled high on her head. She was pale, from fright, Dodie judged rather than it being her natural complexion. She made coffee – instant, in thick mugs, Dodie was sorry to see – at the small alcove which served as her kitchen, while Dodie found herself a seat in the only armchair. When Phillipa brought Dodie her mug she sank down onto what Dodie assumed was a bed by night, and masqueraded as a divan by day. It really was a tiny room, and being under the eaves the walls sloped to make it feel uncomfortably claustrophobic, but the girl probably couldn't afford anything bigger at London rents.
'Have you found the brooch?' she asked. 'I was hoping that was why you wanted to see me. I shall never be able to pay back what it's worth, so I expect I'll go to prison! Oh, why was I such a fool? I just wanted a bit of luxury.'
'Don't cry, lass. It was silly of you, but I was poor myself when I was not much less than your age, and I understand. But you can help me by remembering everything you can. I am trying to discover just what happened, and then we may hope to get the brooch back.'
'I'll try, but I expect whoever took it will have sold it by now and I'll never get I back. What do you want to know?'
'First, I know you've been asked this before, but how sure are you that you locked the brooch in the safe?'
Phillipa shook her head. 'I can't be sure! Really I can't! I've thought and thought, and tried to go through what I did that day. What do they call it? A reconstruction. It was the Thursday, and up till then I'd had a wonderful time. I'd been wondering if I could get myself a job in a similar place, as a stylist. I went to get the brooch out of the safe that evening, and for a minute couldn't remember the code I'd used. I wore it every night, you see, for I only had the one evening dress, a black one, and it went so well with it!'
'Then you remembered the code and opened the safe?'
'Yes, eventually, after I'd panicked a bit, and the brooch wasn't there! I took everything out of the safe, and I searched everywhere else! I could remember wearing it the night before, but I just couldn't remember putting it in the safe. I was very tired, I know, that evening. I'd probably done too much during the day, in the gym and swimming. I thought I'd just put the brooch down on the dressing table, or even left it on my dress.'
'Did you leave it on the dress any other night? After all, if you wore the same each night it would have been understandable.'
'I'm sure I didn't. I was so terrified of losing it! It was a bother, to be honest. I began to wish I'd never borrowed it. Oh, Mrs Fanshaw, do you think I'll ever get it back?'
'We can hope, but you must realise the thieves might have got rid of it by now.'
Phillipa swallowed a sob. 'I know! I'm so afraid. Mrs Fanshaw, what on earth shall I do?'
'Hold on for the moment. We may get it back. Now, more questions, I'm afraid. You were on the top floor, and Rosie and Mandy were the maids there. Did you see anyone else? Mrs Jones, the housekeeper, or one of the waitresses?'
'I don't think so. Oh yes, I saw the porter, his name's Brian, I think, bringing up some cases for a new guest in the room next to mine. That was on Thursday afternoon, about five o'clock. I didn't see anyone else except the maids.'
'Did they always work together? The same pairs?'
Phillipa looked puzzled. 'Yes, I think so, but I wasn't usually there when they cleaned the room. I saw them in the evenings a couple of times when they came to turn down the beds and change the towels.'
'Did they see the brooch?'
'I suppose they would have done, as I was dressed by then and ready to go down for dinner.'
'Did either of them mention it, admire it?'
'Oh no. They were friendly girls, but they didn't talk to me unless I said something to them first.'
'Did any of the guests admire it?'
'One or two did, and some snooty woman said it was vulgar! I thought her own rings were vulgar! She had them on every finger.'
'Let's get back to Thursday evening. When you saw it was not in the safe, what did you do? Exactly. You say you searched everywhere, but can you remember where you looked first?'
Phillipa began to sob, and grabbed a handful of tissues from a box on the table in front of her. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse.
'I looked on the dressing table first, in case I'd forgotten and left it out, and in all the drawers. And on the floor of the wardrobe, in case I'd dropped it or it had fallen off the dress or even out of the safe when I'd opened it, and I hadn't noticed.'
'Then you went down to dinner?'
'Yes, the maids came in, and I couldn't go on looking. But I searched everywhere again after dinner, and I didn't sleep at all that night, worrying and wondering what on earth had happened to it.'
'Did you think it could have been stolen?'
'Not at first. Not in a place like The Crags. Only the maids could have got into the room, and they were nice girls! But then I began to wonder. I couldn't think of any other way it could have vanished.'
'And on Friday you told Miss Sheila?'
'Yes, at coffee time. But I didn't say I thought it could have been stolen! I thought perhaps I'd dropped it and still hoped someone may have handed it in.'
'And that's all? You heard nothing?'
'I begged Miss Sheila not to tell anyone! If other people knew it was lost it might get back to Mrs Colwich. I was hoping I could put it back before she found out, but now I don't suppose I'll be able to!'
'Did any of the other guests mention you weren't wearing it? On Thursday or Friday night?'
'No. I don't think any of them were interested enough in me to bother,' she said mournfully. 'I knew I'd made a mistake trying to fit in with those rich people. My accent wasn't the same, and I didn't know the things they did, like the French things on the menu, and they often talked about books and things I'd never heard of. My school wasn't a good one, they didn't teach us much, and to be honest, I wasn't interested. All I wanted was to get out and start earning money.'
Dodie was beginning to feel sorry for the child. 'Where are your parents? And do you have any brothers or sisters?'
'One of each, a lot younger than me, but Mum got married again, and they emigrated to Canada. I didn't want to go, and as I was working by then they let me stay here. My dad had vanished years before, I haven't a clue where he is.'
'When this is all over, perhaps you'd be happier if you went to join them.'
'If they'll have me, after I go to prison! Which I will if I don't get the wretched brooch back.'
'Don't lose heart. We may still be able to recover it. Thank you, and if you think of anything else useful, get in touch with me. I'll be at The Crags for a few more days, at least, and you can telephone me. Here are my numbers.'
Phillipa, suppressing her tears, showed Dodie out to where her taxi was waiting. She had learned nothing new, Dodie thought as she was driven back to her house. Perhaps she would learn more from Lady Carter the following morning
*
Lady Carter was sitting at a tab
le in the window, as she had suggested, when Dodie entered the coffee room at Peter Jones. Dodie wondered why she had repulsed the suggestion of meeting at her Belgravia house, but suspected she didn't want to risk any servants mentioning the visit to Sir Iain and provoking questions. She was plump, aged at least sixty, wearing a black suit, with a red scarf tucked into the neckline, and a neat red hat sitting on top of her grey hair. Not, Dodie thought with an inward smile, the sort to be having illicit weekends. A pot of tea and a plate of rich-looking cakes sat in front of her.
Dodie took the chair opposite, introduced herself, and ordered coffee. Nobly she resisted the cakes Lady Carter was eating.
'Thank you for talking with me,' she began. 'There have been other thefts at The Crags, and I'm trying to find out who's responsible.'
'Other thefts? I didn't know.' She looked offended. No one else, presumably, had anything worth stealing.
'How could you? The other victims didn't want any publicity either. But they were also in rooms on the top floor, so suspicion naturally falls on the maids who serviced those rooms. Mandy and Rosie.'
Lady Carter shook her head. 'I can't believe either of those girls would steal my necklace. They're both lovely girls. I've known them for three years, since I began going to The Crags. Besides, how could they possibly get into my safe? You need to look for someone more sophisticated, with criminal connections.'
'Such as? They would have to gain access to several of the guest rooms, in different weeks, and it would be risky for them to be seen in the guest wing if they didn't belong there. Have you any suspicions?'
'I never liked that Terry. He was impolite and unhelpful, and never at the pool when one needed him. Darren was hopeless.'
So her opinion of Terry was just as Dodie had found him. 'But do you suspect him? How could he gain access to the bedrooms? Three times, at least. Surely if he were in that side of the house he'd have been seen?'
'Then one of the other maids, making some excuse to go up there. I didn't see them apart from when they did the room on Saturday when the others had their day off, and I don't know their names.'
'I've checked all the times, and they were not officially on the top floor any of the days the thefts occurred. Whoever it was could have been very fortunate not to have been seen. But tell me, Lady Carter, why did you risk taking such a valuable piece of jewellery to The Crags?'
She sighed, and began to pluck at the scarf round her neck. 'I suppose I'll have to tell you, if it helps get it back, but you will keep my confidence, I hope?'
Dodie made no promises. If they caught the thief there would have to be a court case and it would all come out. 'Why did you risk it?'
'I needed the money.' She picked up her cup, and it rattled against the saucer. As she sipped the tea some dripped onto her jacket, but she was too agitated to notice.
'Surely you didn't mean to sell it? Apart from it being well known, surely your husband would have found out eventually.'
She looked at Dodie as though she thought her lacking in wit, and shrugged. 'I wanted it copied, of course. They make very realistic copies these days, and what's the point of keeping something so valuable in a safe and hardly ever wearing it? I might as well have the benefit of the cash.'
'I understood your husband was wealthy?'
'He is, but he's also a mean bastard! I get an allowance, but it's nowhere near enough, and he pays my clothes bills, but that's it.'
'And your bill at The Crags? Perhaps other hotel stays, holidays?'
'Yes, of course. So he should.'
'Then didn't that cover all your expenses? Why did you need more?'
Lady Carter sighed, and rather unsteadily poured more tea, spilling some in the saucer. 'I'll have to tell you my guilty secret, but I beg you won't tell Sir Iain.'
Interesting, Dodie thought, that she referred to her husband by his title. It was, Dodie had discovered, a recent one conferred on him just because he was rich and had donated money to a political party. Lady Carter went on.
'I had been gambling. A friend took me to this club, you see, and before I knew it I was in debt for thousands. I could see no other way of paying it off, and I didn't dare let them tell my husband. He'd have been livid. He says any form of gambling is a mug's game. But when he's away so much, what else is there to do?'
Dodie could have suggested a good many activities. 'How did taking it to The Crags help?'
'Mr Shefford was going there too. John's a gemologist. He buys gems from all over the world. He said he knew someone, actually a couple of people, who would probably be willing to buy the real necklace, someone in America, so there was no likelihood my husband would ever see it, and he could have a replica made for me.'
'You didn't plan to give it to him? For a while, until it was copied?'
'No, of course not. He said if he took lots of photographs and measurements it would be possible to make the replica. It would take a month, and meantime he'd find a buyer. I was able to stall the people I owed money to that long, but now I can't think what to do! They are starting to threaten me, and all I can think of is to stage a robbery at home, and pretend the necklace has been stolen!'
How idiotic could the woman be? 'That would not solve your gambling debts,' she said.
'There'd be insurance money, and if I could do it while Sir Iain's away, I could use some of the money to pay off those wretched debts.'
'Wouldn't it be simpler to confess? Insurance companies don't pay out very readily, or quickly, and before you could get your hands on any cash it's likely the people you owe the money to would have told your husband.'
'I dare not! Sir Iain would divorce me!'
Dodie could not help thinking it might be better for her. 'Is Mr Shefford making up the replica still? Had he taken the photographs? Before the theft?'
'Yes, but without the original to sell, he'll charge me hundreds for that. I'll be in even greater debt.'
Dodie thought rather flippantly of suggesting he had two replicas made, and sold one of them to a credulous American, but from her own knowledge of Americans she was sure they would have an independent valuation before handing over large sums of money.
'I'll do what I can,' Dodie promised. 'Can you give me Mr Shefford's address?'
'Oh no, I can't involve him! His wife thinks that we – well, you can guess!'
She preened, and Dodie suppressed a grin. Mrs Shefford must be a highly suspicious woman, or consider her husband lacking in taste if he was involved with Lady Carter. And she could get the details from Sheila. He could wait for now, unless he had stolen the necklace. But he hadn't been at The Crags the other times there had been thefts.
'I'll do what I can,' she repeated, and stood up. 'I must go now, I've a train to catch. Thank you for seeing me, and being so frank.'
*
CHAPTER 6
It was mid-afternoon when Dodie's taxi dropped her at The Crags. There was a filthy old Nissan parked amongst the other expensive cars, and she wondered who it could belong to. Not a guest, surely. One of the staff, she supposed, though she had not seen it before. She was, she was thankful to see, in time for the afternoon tea served in the drawing room. Not that the sugarless cakes and biscuits normally attracted her, but the sandwich she had grabbed before boarding her train had been, to say the least, disappointing. The bread had been soggy, the contents uninspiring, and the bottle of water she'd bought flat despite the bubbles portrayed on the label. Thank heavens she had, somewhat guiltily, also snatched up a bar of chocolate which had sustained her during the journey.
Elena was sitting with the energetic couple Dodie now knew were sisters. She was looking thoughtful, and smiled somewhat distractedly at her mother. Dodie went to join her group, picked up one of the unappetising cakes, and bit into it. Diane came to hand her a cup of tea.
'Nice to see you back, Mrs Fanshaw,' the waitress said.
'I wondered whether you were ill, when you were not in the dining room last night or this morning,' the elder siste
r said. 'Have you been away?'
'Yes, just for one night,' Dodie answered, without elaborating. She was not going to pander to the woman's curiosity. 'Have you been busy?' she asked, taking another bite of the cake and forcing herself to swallow.
'I've just been swimming,' Elena said. 'How was the journey?'
'I caught a fast train back.'
'Good.'
There seemed little more to say until they could be private. One of the sisters began to ask Dodie about the time she had spent in Hazel Prentice's village, and the murder mystery she had solved there.
'You must be so clever! I could never work out anything like that! And Hazel says you've done it more than once. Do tell us about them.'
'It's just a matter of finding out who had the motive, means and opportunity,' Dodie said, 'like all the mystery writers say in their novels.'
'Yes, and I can never work out how their detectives find things out,' she confessed, shaking her head and laughing.
'It helps to work backwards,' her sister said rather dismissively. 'Then you can see the clues which you miss first time.'
'Oh, really? I must try that. But Dodie – may I call you that? – I still want to know how you did it.'
'Another time, if you'll forgive me. I need to take some things up to my room, and I want a shower before dinner.'
'Elena said you had to go to London. An important meeting, was it?'
'Not particularly. Just something that came up, which I couldn't delay. Now ladies, please excuse me.'
She rose to her feet, ignoring their protests, and inclined her head towards Elena. 'Your room or mine?' she asked as they left the drawing room.
'Mine, please.'
As soon as Elena shut the door she turned to Dodie. 'My ring has been stolen. This afternoon, while I was swimming. I was away for less than an hour. It was in my safe, which was properly locked when I came back up.'
*
'Things are moving. What happened?'
'I had a reflexology session after lunch, then came up here to change, put the ring in the safe, and went for a swim. I was away for about fifty minutes, and the ring had gone when I came back.'
Strangled in the Sauna Page 7
