Dodie was examining the picture in detail. 'Her shoes have mud on them. It was raining last night, and I think it must have happened then. She was wearing a mackintosh, so it's likely she went outside. That's the quickest way to her car, I presume, the door from the pool area?'
Sheila nodded. 'We leave it for the staff who live out. We could ask Pat or Terry when they left.'
'Terry would probably be gone before Pat and the other maids finished the rooms,' Dodie said. 'So would all the other people who live out. I wish I'd thought to check her car. It would still be daylight when Pat left. She'd be the last to go.'
Elena had been flicking through the photographs. 'It doesn't look as though she put up much of a struggle. And it would have been difficult to force her into the cubicle, if she was frightened, fighting him off, and strangle her there.'
'But a lot easier if they sat behind her in the car, and left her there until it was dark. They'd have to be strong enough to carry her inside afterwards,' Dodie said.
'Which indicates a man, or a very strong woman.'
'That scarf is loose,' Sheila suddenly said. 'Look, I'd have expected it to still be tight round her neck. Ugh, this is morbid!'
'Loose, twisted round after she was dead? Perhaps because someone wanted it thought she'd been strangled from the front? But they didn't, or couldn't, pull it tight again. The police will notice this.'
'So we don't have to confess to these photos?' Elena said.
'No, but they do suggest some ideas. A man or a strong woman. Someone who presumably knew her car. Maybe someone she would offer a lift to, who could get into her car without her being suspicious.'
'In the back seat?'
'Why not?' Dodie asked. 'It was raining, they were in a hurry. Mrs Jones was going away for the weekend, I presume, since I hear she often does, so perhaps she had a case she'd put on the passenger seat. Oh, why didn't I go and look at the car? I wonder if there's time to look before the police come?'
She stood up and moved towards the door, but at that moment they heard more than one car arriving. Sheila gulped.
'Too late. That sounds like the police. I'd better go and let them in. Please, both of you, come with me.'
*
The police wanted to see the body first of all. When Sheila gestured to Dodie to go with her they politely but firmly said only Miss Sankey need accompany them. Dodie and Elena retrieved their brandy goblets and retreated to the private sitting room beyond the office, and ten minutes later Sheila and Joan joined them. Joan sank into an armchair and silently held out her hand. Sheila filled a glass and gave it to her, and sat opposite.
'Thanks. My God, what a ghastly thing to happen! Poor Betty!'
'What did the police say?' Dodie asked.
'Told us it was now a crime scene, the pool area is off limits until they have finished, which could be some days, and no one is to leave.'
'So none of our guests can go home until they say so, which means we have to cancel those due to arrive.' Sheila heaved a deep sigh. 'Some of them will already be on their way, at least half of them arrive on Saturdays, but that, according to the police, is our problem. Fortunately we have five empty rooms, so anyone we can't contact can still be put up.'
'If they want to stay when they hear,' Joan said.
Sheila got to her feet. 'This could ruin us. Well, I'd better start ringing those who may not have started first of all. Then anyone who gave me their mobile numbers.'
'Can I help?' Elena asked. 'Look up numbers or something?'
'Thanks, but no. It'll be quicker if I do it myself.'
Joan said she had no desire to look at Dodie's photographs, she'd had a peep into the sauna and seen all she wanted. They told her their thoughts, then Dodie said she had a few more questions.
'More?'
'I'm afraid so. We are wondering if she knew who the thief was. If perhaps she confronted him.'
'Him? Yes, I suppose it had to be a man, especially if she was killed in her car and had to be carried in.'
'Who has a key to that door?'
'It's in the door, we don't take it out. I suppose they waited until it was dark. They must have come from inside, unlocking the door.'
'Unless they went out with her.'
'Would she then leave the door unlocked?'
'She'd assume someone would check later, and lock it from inside.'
'The treatment area isn't used in the evening, I assume? Nor the pool?'
'Not after dinner. The therapists often stay to clear up after their last clients, but they don't like being there later. They say it's eerie.'
'Have you ever had break ins through the pool area?'
'No, never. I suppose crooks might think there could be drugs, but anyone who is aware of what we do would know that's not so. And that means all the locals. So many of them work for us or know people who do.'
'It could have been someone who lives out. I need to talk to some of the locals.'
'But Dodie, what good will it do? The police are here now.'
'For a murderer, not a thief. Will you tell them about the thefts?'
'We'll have to, as it may be connected. I'm wondering if she knew who it was and threatened to inform on them?'
'If she did, she knew a good deal more than she told us.'
'Protecting someone, you mean?'
Dodie was looking thoughtful. 'Would she?'
'It could be, though I doubt it.'
'Did she have any special cronies?'
Joan shook her head. 'She kept aloof. She never, so far as I knew, even went to the pub. She did her work here, was very efficient, but went away most weekends and never said where, whether she was visiting friends or family.'
'Do you still have her job application? References?'
'I suppose so. Sheila will know where they are.'
'Can I see them? Before the police take them away?'
Joan nodded. 'I'll go and get them, they'll be in the office somewhere, I suppose.'
*
Joan was still looking through the filing cabinet when one of the policemen came into the office. She had left the door to the sitting room open and Dodie could hear what he said. He put two transparent bags on the desk.
'Miss Sankey, can you help me please? Was this handbag owned by Mrs Jones?'
Sheila looked at the slim black leather clutch bag, slightly scuffed at the corners, and swallowed. 'Yes, I'm sure it's hers, I recognise that scratch. She never used another, to my knowledge. Where was it?'
'Pushed under the passenger seat of her car. Now, these were the contents.' He pointed to the other bag. 'A bank statement, a wallet containing two credit cards, fifty pounds in notes, and two pounds in coins, a blank envelope containing a single twenty pound note, a cheap pen, lipstick, small mirror, mobile phone, and four keys. Do you know what these keys open?'
'The one on its own looks like the keys we use here, so it's probably her room key. I know she always locked it when she went away at weekends. I can't say what the others are for.'
'Three on one small ring. There's a mortice, a Yale, and the small one that looks like it fits a suitcase or briefcase.'
'Did she have a suitcase in the car? And did you find her car key?'
'The key was in the ignition, and a small overnight bag, which didn't have any lock, on the passenger seat. Thank you, Miss Sankey. The Inspector says you may serve lunch to your guests now, but when he has finished at the murder scene he will want to interview everyone. Is there a small room we could use?'
'There's the library, next door to this office.'
*
The atmosphere in the dining room was febrile. Everyone spoke in low voices, but there was an undercurrent of excitement and Dodie heard some wild speculation about the murder. Frank and the waitresses never smiled, and Diane looked as though she would burst into tears at any time.
'They can't keep us here!' It was the elder of the two keen walkers. 'We were leaving this afternoon, and I must be back at home tomo
rrow. I have commitments.'
'You are not the only one,' another woman snapped at her.
'I'm sure, once they have interviewed us, they will let those who want to leave go home,' someone else said. 'After all, why should any of us want to kill the poor woman?'
'What time did it happen? When was she last seen? She must have been killed and put in that cubicle during the night, when no one would see.'
'If she was going away for the weekend, it must have been earlier.'
'We all have alibis. We can prove it wasn't us.'
'Can we?' Mr Barratt said. 'That depends on when the poor woman was killed. I believe she was leaving for the weekend, so she must have been killed last night.'
'We would all have been having dinner.'
'You said you didn't feel like eating, and went up to your room.'
'Are you accusing me?' She was indignant.
'Ladies, this kind of speculation doesn't help,' Dodie said, looking round at the diners. 'The police will want to interview us all.'
'Haven't you solved the murder yet, Mrs Fanshaw?' This was Hazel, looking rather pale, but speaking with a bitter edge to her voice.
'Of course not,' Dodie replied. 'The police have much better resources than I have.'
'Strange you should be here at the time.'
'Isn't it? But I believe some of you come regularly, so you will have known Mrs Jones better that I did. Has anyone any suggestions of who might have wanted to kill her? Had she any enemies? I expect these are the sort of questions the police will want to ask us.'
'Well, I can promise you I'll never be coming again!' Hazel declared, and a few of the women nodded.
Sheila's fears about the future of The Crags seemed justified, and the sooner the murderer was caught the better for everyone. Dodie was making lists in her head, of the men who worked here, and who might be presumed to have some quarrel with Mrs Jones. Terry and Darren were usually in the pool room when it was open, and it was possible they were still there when she was killed, but transferring her body to the sauna must have been done after it closed. Brian, Frank and the chef worked and lived in the house. The gardeners lived outside, Sam in the converted stables and Walter in the village. There were also the few male guests, but what motive might they have?
'Are we permitted to leave this room?' another asked, interrupting her thoughts. 'I just can't eat a thing.'
'I think it would be best if we all wait in the drawing room,' Mr Barratt said. 'Then the police can call us in without wasting time.'
Hazel shivered. 'Are we permitted a lawyer, or a friend with us?'
'It's not normal to demand a solicitor unless we have been arrested,' Elena told her, not bothering to keep her scorn hidden, 'and that won't be for quite a while, until they have enough evidence.'
'You're an expert on police procedure, are you?' Hazel demanded.
Elena smiled at her. 'I know a little, since I am going to marry a detective.'
*
CHAPTER 9
The interviews were conducted swiftly and efficiently. Some of the guests were thankful to be released after a few minutes, one or two wondered how good a job the police were doing with what they called superficial questions, others seemed offended they had not been asked for more.
'They just wanted a timetable of what we'd been doing between six last night and ten this morning,' the older walker said. 'I ask you, what would we have been doing? Dressing for dinner, dinner, watching TV, bed, breakfast and our first sessions.'
'They didn't even ask if we'd seen anything suspicious,' her sister added.
'How could you have done, if you were nowhere near the pool during the night?' Dodie asked.
'Well, I don't know! But my room overlooks the gardens.'
'And you might have seen a masked man carrying a gun sneaking past?' one of the other guests asked.
She took offence. 'Of course not! That's foolish! But I could have seen someone who wasn't supposed to be there.'
Dodie tuned out from the profitless discussion. She and Elena had been amongst the first to be questioned, and had been asked just for the facts. It was not the time to introduce speculations. They had come back to the drawing room hoping to hear more, but it appeared the interviews were all following the same pattern. Presumably the police would recall anyone if they wanted to ask more questions.
'I'm going upstairs,' Dodie said quietly to Elena. 'Come with me?'
As they passed the office door Joan put her head out. 'Oh good, here's that file you asked for. I managed to photocopy it before the police took it away,' she added in a whisper and handed Dodie a large envelope. 'Come and have tea with us later.'
'Thanks, we will.'
Once in her room Dodie took out the sheets of paper. 'There isn't a great deal,' she said, spreading them out on the dressing table. 'A copy of the ad Sheila put out, Mrs Jones's application letter, Sheila's offer and her acceptance, and two references.'
'Both saying she was punctual, reliable, honest and a hard worker.'
'Hm. The sort of reference given for employees they don't particularly want to lose. The glowing ones are when they want to be shut of someone.'
'What's this?' Elena asked, picking up another sheet. 'Oh, I see, these must be notes Sheila made when she interviewed Mrs Jones. Details of her background, it looks like.'
They read through the scribbled notes.
'Born Elizabeth Mowatt, father died when she was ten, comprehensive school in Middlesborough, just a couple of exam passes at sixteen, left school and worked as a waitress in Middlesborough. What's this?' Dodie asked, pointing to a line which seemed to have been crossed out.
Elena peered at it. 'I think it says mother remarried when she, Elizabeth, was eighteen and emigrated to Canada.'
'And Elizabeth moved to Scarborough, working in hotels, since presumably she wanted a live-in job.'
'There are no dates or names of hotels,' Elena said slowly, 'just saying she worked in hotels for six years, as waitress and then housemaid, getting promotion. Then, it seems, she got married, but the marriage only lasted for two years, and she looked for another live-in job.'
'As housekeeper at a small girls' boarding school. That's where the first reference came from. She moved to a bigger job at another school. For more pay, I assume.'
Elena picked up Mrs Jones's application letter. 'She says she had been there for eight years and wanted a change, and more responsibility.'
They sat back and considered the papers.
'I wonder why the marriage failed? And where Mr Jones is now?' Dodie said.
'They broke up over a dozen years ago,' Elena said. 'Surely you don't think he could be involved?'
'Not really. It's too far back. But I hope the police try to trace him.'
'Let's go and have tea. Sheila and Joan may have more information. The police were questioning them while we were having lunch.'
*
'We can hardly move for police,' Sheila grumbled as she poured out the tea. 'Two interviewing the guests, two more in the TV room interviewing the staff, the two you saw going through the office files, two more searching Mrs Jones's room, and heaven knows how many in the pool room and car park!'
'There can't be many football matches in Yorkshire today, to keep them busy,' Dodie said, and Sheila laughed. 'What's been happening?'
'They sent for the staff who live out, dragged them back. Susan and Felicity were furious, they had both planned to go to the theatre tonight, and don't know if they'll be let go in time. Pat was more philosophical, she'd have been back later in any case. But Mandy was screaming abuse, saying she'd left here, wasn't involved and didn't see what she had to do with it.'
Dodie was nibbling at a small chocolate cake. 'What sort of questions did they ask you?'
'Mainly about the running of the place, who locks up, when, what everyone's duties are, and about Mrs Jones herself, her duties, was she efficient, did she get on with the other staff, and where she went on her weekends off. Which
I couldn't tell them, I haven't a clue. She leaves on Friday afternoons, when the maids have finished, gives the master keys to Pat, and returns late on Sunday. She has never said where she goes, who she might see or visit, what she does.'
'We've been reading the copy of her file,' Elena said. 'Did she say which hotels she'd worked in?'
'In Scarborough? No, not in detail, but I had references for the previous ten or twelve years, so I didn't ask.'
'Were you offering a big increase in salary?' Dodie asked.
'Not a great deal, but she said she was getting stale – for which I understood bored – at the school, and thought this would be a more interesting job.'
'Did she ever talk about her husband, or why they split up?'
'She's never said, but I think he was put in prison.'
'Stealing?'
'I don't think so. It was for brawling, I believe. Certainly he looked the sort whenever he came here.'
'He came here often? Like the other night? To see her? How did she take that?'
'I suspect he wanted money, and she was furious, apologising to me and saying it wouldn't happen again. But of course it did. He had a dreadful old car, and once when I saw him he told me he had to sleep in it.'
Dodie remembered the scruffy Nissan she had seen in the car park. 'He came here recently? There was an ancient Nissan in the car park on Thursday.'
'I didn't see him.'
'Perhaps we'd better tell the police. They might be able to trace his movements. What was his name?'
'Kenneth Jones.'
'So she kept her married name.'
'Yes, said it was simpler.'
'I see. Did she use the therapists at all?'
'Only Susan to have her hair done. The staff are permitted to use them if the therapists have time and agree, but we leave it to them to say yes or no. Not many of them take advantage, though a couple of the maids and one of the cooks do use the pool. Darren keeps it open for them.'
'Were you satisfied with her work?'
Sheila hesitated. 'She was efficient, but she was rather aloof.'
'Do you mean she made no friends amongst the staff?'
'She was always polite,' Joan said, 'but I had the impression she was just not interested in any of the work we do, the spa things. And I suspect she was wary of becoming friendly with the rest of the staff.'
Strangled in the Sauna Page 10
