'She thought they were beneath her,' Sheila said, taking one of the small cakes and biting into it. 'Oh, this is too dry! Chef must have been upset. I hope he can do better for dinner.'
There was a knock on the door, and a policeman poked his head round it.
'A phone call for you, Miss Sankey.'
'Thanks, I'll take it in here. Now who can this be?' she sighed as she went to pick up the receiver.
The others tried not to listen, but could not help sensing Sheila's surprise.
'Well, yes, but you must have heard what's happened here. It's been on all the TV channels...Very well, tomorrow...Goodbye.'
'How about that?' she said as she returned to her seat. 'I've managed to contact all but three of the new guests, and some who were due to come next week have cancelled, but that is someone who wants to come.'
'Who is so daft?' Joan asked.
'Mr Shefford, of all people. He says he'll be in the area for a few days. So you'll be able to question him about the necklace, Dodie.'
*
'Why?'
Dodie and Elena were in the latter's room.
'Why what?'
'Why should that man ask to come here now?'
'It could be coincidence, Ma. Sheila said he occasionally rang to see if they had a room free, if he were in the area on business.'
'Lady Carter said he was a gemologist. He went abroad to buy stones. Why should he be travelling in Yorkshire? I'm sure you don't sell stones to individual jewellers. Isn't it all done through Hatton Garden?'
'I don't know, but could he have pieces made up and be selling those? There's a lot of money in Yorkshire, jewellers here might be good customers.'
'Or he might be getting copies made for people other than Lady Carter. Having them done away from London, or selling the real ones here. I just find it odd.'
'Well, you'll soon be able to ask him questions.'
Dodie nodded and rose to her feet. 'I'd better go and change for dinner.'
In her own room she found Pat and Rosie tidying. They both looked sombre, but they managed to smile at her.
'We'll be done in a few minutes, Mrs Fanshaw,' Pat said.
'No hurry. I wanted to ask you what the police were doing.'
Rosie shivered. 'They began to interview all the therapists while the guests were at lunch, then the maids and the kitchen staff.'
'What about Terry and Darren?'
'They were first, after Miss Sheila and Miss Joan. They kept Terry a long time, and he looked white when he came out.'
'Do you know what time he left on Friday?'
'He was gone when I left,' Pat said. 'I half expected him to be in the pub that evening, but he wasn't. He sometimes goes to others.'
'I understand they fetched Mandy here.'
'Yes, and she was spitting mad while we were all waiting in the staff dining room, complaining she didn't work here now and whatever had happened wasn't anything to do with her. The police didn't actually tell her what had happened when they fetched her, she didn't know till we told her.'
'She said hardly a word afterwards,' Rosie added. 'If I didn't know her better I'd have thought she was upset, but she didn't like Mrs Jones, was always complaining about her being too fussy and always looking over our shoulders to make sure we weren't skimping on the dusting.'
They went soon afterwards and Dodie began to change her dress. She was thinking hard. Mrs Jones had to have been killed as she left the house, before she could drive away. That would have been about seven, probably earlier. Had her murderer waited around for her? Then her body would have to be hidden until everyone had gone to bed, before it could be moved to the sauna. It was unlikely it had been moved from the car in order to hide it, or her clothes would have shown some sign, mud or wet. The easiest would have been to push her down so that she was lying across the passenger seat. That was risky, in case anyone glanced into the car and saw her. But all the other staff who lived out would have gone home by then, or, like Pat, who left later, would have used a bicycle. These were kept under cover in a different part of the car park. So maybe it wasn't such a risk after all.
If whoever killed her came in a car, either this belonged to a guest or one of the resident staff, and would quite innocently sit in the car park, or had to be hidden if, for instance, it belonged to Terry or anyone else not supposed to be on the premises at that time. She needed to take a walk along the road to the village and look for possible hiding places, a field gate or a clump of trees. They could, of course, have walked from the village, or used a bicycle which would have been easy to hide.
The door to the pool area would have to be unlocked for the removal of the body later that night, but this was something no one could depend on if they were outside. Alternatively the murderer had waited inside, perhaps in one of the sauna cubicles. He – it must have been a man – would have had a long and probably nerve-racking wait.
What was the point of moving the body at all? Why not leave it in the car? Or even carry it away in another car and dispose of it elsewhere? It could have been tipped over the cliffs at high tide, conveniently right in front of the car park, and possibly never found. Had the murderer wanted it to be found, and in a place that compromised someone?
Last of all, what had Mrs Jones done to cause someone to murder her? Did she know who had stolen the jewels? Was she perhaps blackmailing or threatening them? But if it was necessary for a man to move her body, that indicated a man had been responsible for the thefts of the jewels. That implied Brian or Frank, the only two indoor male staff likely to be in the guest wing. Or, and Dodie sighed in exasperation, a couple working together, one of the maids, perhaps, and anyone outside.
She could find no path through the maze, so she might as well go and have dinner.
*
The police had all gone, though the pool area and Mrs Jones's room were still taped off. The guests were recovering from the shock, and they had been told they might be allowed to leave on Sunday if they wished. Some were complaining they had not been given permission to leave that evening. A few, though they did not openly say so, seemed determined to stay to see the end of the affair. Speculation was rife, but no one knew anything of value. The police had given nothing away during their questioning.
'They say we can use the therapy rooms and the gymnasium,' Hazel reported. 'I'm not sure I want to, but after all, I have paid for the use of all the facilities.'
'What if it's one of the therapists?' a somewhat timid woman asked. 'I'm not sure I'd want to be alone with any of them.'
'None of the women could have carried her body in from the car,' Tim Barratt said. 'She was quite a big woman.'
'Natalie might,' the timid one objected. 'She's big herself, and strong.'
'We ought not to be accusing anyone,' Tim said. He sounded as though he was keeping his temper with difficulty. 'I suggest we leave that to the police.'
'Or our tame sleuth,' Hazel said. 'Who did it, Mrs Fanshaw? Haven't you found out yet?'
Dodie shook her head. 'No, I am at as much of a loss as everyone else.'
Later, she shared her thoughts with Elena and the Sankey sisters. They nodded in agreement at her conclusions, but had no suggestions.
'I can't believe any of the staff could have killed her in such a brutal manner,' Joan said. 'She was not an easy person to like, but on the other hand there was not much to dislike about her.'
'We know nothing of her life when she goes away,' Elena reminded them.
'If it's an outsider, why kill her here?'
'To deflect suspicion?'
'That's all very well, Dodie, but an outsider would have to know how we operate, about the pool door, for instance. The key is always left in the lock, no one could get in from outside with a duplicate key.'
'These wretched keys! Sheila, we must change all the bedroom locks as soon as we can.'
'We'd still have to have master keys. If we still have a business left. And even if someone did have a duplicate for the poo
l, that indicates they had been planning the murder for some time, which I do not believe is likely. Surely, if you need to kill anyone for any reason, such as to prevent them revealing information, you need to do it as soon as possible?'
'Are the police coming back tomorrow, do you know?'
'Yes. I think they are asking questions in the village tonight, probably at the pubs. It's doing our reputation no good at all. Even if we survive, will anyone want to come and work here?'
'We'll have to solve it. There are a couple more questions. Exactly when were the three expensive jewels stolen? I mean,' Dodie added, 'how far apart? And how soon after the guests came here?'
Sheila and Joan consulted one another. 'I think, yes, I'm certain, the first two were in consecutive weeks, but there was a week in between when nothing was stolen, before the brooch,' Sheila said.
'Is it important?' Joan asked.
'I don't know, but any little fact could be significant. They were stolen on days when Felicity was working here. My other question is about her husband. She said he was a computer expert. Does he work for some computer firm?'
'No, I think it's just a hobby for him. Of course, he works on a computer at work, he manages a large supermarket.'
'And she also said he was a DIY expert. Do you know what sort of things he does? Decorating, plumbing, electrics or what?'
'I think he does most things. I know he even made them some wrought iron gates.'
So he could almost certainly make simple keys, Dodie thought, but kept the thought to herself.
*
CHAPTER 10
The excitement of the previous day was gone. At breakfast on Sunday morning the urge to speculate on who had murdered Mrs Jones had vanished. The police had informed Sheila that her guests might leave provided they kept the police informed of their movements. Sheila had told Dodie that nine had been due to leave on Saturday, four more today. They would all be departing soon after breakfast, including, to Dodie's relief, the keen walkers. Hazel Prentice and Tim Barratt were staying on. As far as Dodie was concerned they cancelled one another out. Hazel was aggressive now she had recovered from the shock of finding the body, while Tim's common sense helped to calm things. Five others, booked in for the coming week, had said they wished to leave now. Three new guests had arrived, when Sheila had been unable to contact them, and they all said they would stay. Mr Shefford was arriving later in the day. The number of guests would not be far below the normal, but Sheila was already receiving a few cancellations for future weeks.
'If it's not solved soon, we're in trouble,' she said. 'And it may not solve the thefts.'
'It's too early to give up. Sheila, I want to see a few of the locals, hear what they are saying, and I propose Elena and I go to the pub for lunch. Do they do the traditional Sunday roast?'
'Yes, and it's very popular. I wish I could come with you! Shall I ring to book you a table?'
'Please. We'll go early. I imagine some of the locals pop in for a drink but don't stay to eat?'
'Mostly the men. It's still very traditional up here in Yorkshire. They're likely to stay till after two,' Sheila warned. 'The wives know better than to put food on the table until their men actually arrive home.'
The therapists were working as usual, though they had fewer clients than normal. Sheila's system was for them to have days off in rotation, so there were always some available every day to deal with guests. The pool, unfortunately, was still unavailable, and through the glass windows scene of crime officers in their white suits could be seen minutely examining the area between the sauna and the outer door. Mrs Jones's car was still roped off.
'How long,' Joan demanded in exasperation, 'does it take them to gather all the clues they need?'
'Did the police take fingerprints from the guests?' Elena asked.
'No. I suspect they felt the chances of any of them being involved were low, and many of them would have objected. They did fingerprint the staff, and some of them were not best pleased.'
Dodie decided she could not relax enough for any therapy, though Elena chose to have a massage. Soon after twelve they set off towards the village. Dodie recalled her intention of looking for somewhere a car could be hidden, but she had been pre-empted. A field entrance had been taped off, and several police were there, apparently taking photographs and casts of the tyre prints visible in the mud.
'Too late,' Dodie said. 'But I'd have thought it was a bit exposed to hide a car. It's open on one side, towards the village.'
'Yes, but hardly anyone uses this road in the evening. Apart,' she added, laughing, 'from courting couples. And it's more private further along, this path leads to the farm, I think, by a back way.'
Dodie chuckled. 'It could be embarrassing if the tyre tracks are identified as belonging to some upright citizen who might find it difficult to explain what he was doing there!'
*
The pub was crowded. Dodie ordered a bottle of wine, and they sat trying to listen to a dozen conversations being conducted around them. Tuning in to any one was difficult, but they soon distinguished Mandy's high-pitched voice complaining that since she no longer worked for those witches she didn't see why she should have been shanghaied to be faced with police brutality.
'She's mixing a few metaphors,' Elena said, grinning.
'Did they use thumbscrews?' another girl asked Mandy, and the group surrounding them laughed.
'It's not funny!' Mandy scowled. 'They were horrible, accusing me of all sorts of crimes, and not believing a word I said!'
'Who ever does?' It was the same girl. 'You'll never tell us where you get all the money you flash around.'
'I save it! Unlike you!'
'Well, I know you never pay for your own drinks if you can help it,' her tormentor said, 'and I'd like to know how you can afford designer dresses and the rest.'
'I live with me Mum, and she don't ask me for lots of rent!'
'Well, I bet that so-called Rolex watch you're so fond of is one of the fakes you can buy in Middlesborough market.'
Mandy waved her wrist in front of the other girl's face. 'You're just jealous. Come on, Alec, my glass is empty.'
They moved further away, and Dodie could hear no more. She topped up their wine glasses. 'Can you see Terry? I thought he'd be here.'
'I'll have a wander to the loo, and see if he's at the far end of the bar.'
Mandy and Alec came back, but did not join their former group. Dodie looked carefully at Mandy. She was wearing a close-fitting white dress, but Dodie could not decide if it merited the description of designer. Her handbag, though, did attract Dodie's interest. It looked exactly the same as a Louis Vuitton bag she had bought in New York on her way back from California recently, which had cost well over a thousand dollars. Of course, it might be a fake copy, or Mandy could have bought it on Ebay, but it looked too pristine for a second hand bag and would still have cost a good deal.
While she was considering this Elena came back and slid into the chair opposite. She took a large sip of wine, then shook her head. 'He's not here. Pat and Rosie are, though, with a couple of men. I suppose one of them is Rosie's fiancé Sam. Rosie looked ill. I think she's either worried or unhappy.'
'If he's pressuring her to get rid of her baby, she has cause.' She glanced over to the door which had just opened, and gasped. The man coming in, smartly dressed, nodded to various of The Crag's employees. 'Well, this looks like our Mr Shefford. I wonder if he's hoping to see Terry?'
The pub was getting even more crowded, and a couple of people were shown to a table which was inserted next to theirs. The tables were now very close together, and it was almost as though they shared one. This couple were well-dressed in country tweeds, and the woman wore a strand of tasteful pearls and a discreet diamond ring. They nodded to Dodie and Elena, but that was all, there were no friendly greetings as normally happened in such situations.
The waitress came to take their order immediately. They were clearly well known and locally important
. The wine they ordered was, Dodie was interested to note, the most expensive on the list.
'How are the police doing?' the woman asked, in a low voice. It was, however, clearly audible, her upper-class glass accents cutting through the background of local voices.
'Not a difficult case,' the man replied. 'They'll have an arrest today, I'm told, if they can catch up with the fellow.'
Why should he be told, Dodie wondered. Was he the Chief Constable or Lord Lieutenant or something similar? His certainty was convincing, and Dodie felt impatient to get back to The Crags to discover what was happening there.
At that moment their waitress brought their starters, and another man came to welcome the couple at the next table, trusting that everything was to their satisfaction.
'Thank you, landlord, yes,' the man said. 'I see you are busy today.'
'Yes, it's the excitement up at The Crags. The murder. You must have heard about it. Quite a few of the villagers work there, you know.'
'It's distasteful, the way such an unpleasant affair brings out the worst prurience in people. I suppose they are all gossiping, trying to guess who did it?'
Despite her words, Dodie was sure there was a note of pleasure in her voice. She was as eager as the rest to discuss and speculate. Then to her dismay the landlord turned and indicated their table.
'These two ladies are staying at The Crags, Lady Scott. Perhaps they have the latest news.'
'I doubt it,' Lady Scott said. 'My husband is always well-informed.'
Dodie smiled at her, and adopted the Cockney accent she had been born with, but had discarded when she joined the chorus and later went to Hollywood. 'We knows no more than you, milidy,' she said.
Lady Scott, to her amusement, drew her chair away. She nodded at Dodie, glanced at Elena, and held out her almost full glass for more wine. It was awkward, but she twisted her body so that her back was angled towards Dodie, and concentrated on talking to her husband. From the few words Dodie caught she seemed to be talking about a charity ball to be held soon in Harrogate. Dodie, who had learned Portuguese from her Brazilian husband, Elena's father, began to talk in that language, and Elena followed suit. Lady Scott turned to glance at them, a puzzled look in her eyes.
Strangled in the Sauna Page 11
