by Sara Rosett
“Are you finished, Sergeant Gadd?” Annie asked.
“Yes, ma’am. You’re sure no one has been in to clean Mr. Blakely’s room?”
“No, of course not. He only checked in this morning. We wouldn’t clean the room until tomorrow.”
The sergeant was a young man with a round face, ruddy cheeks, and short blond hair, which was standing on end. I wasn’t sure if he was making an effort to wear his hair in a fashionably mussed style, or if he’d been caught in a particularly rough gust of wind. “I’m afraid we’ll have to search the premises, ma’am.”
“Of course, you can look, especially if it will help find the person who…” she paused to draw a steadying breath, “…did that to Cyrus. But what are you looking for?”
He quirked his lips to one side. “I probably shouldn’t say, but seeing as how you’re being so helpful, and you’re the proprietor—you should know in case you find it. It was plain to see at the crime scene, anyway. It’s his shoe.”
Chapter 9
“CYRUS’S SHOES?” ANNIE ASKED. “YOU mean he wasn’t wearing shoes when he…when he was…?” She swallowed and pressed her lips together as her throat worked.
“He only had one shoe on, ma’am, when he was found. It’s the left that’s missing.” He consulted a notepad. “A men’s black dress shoe with silver buckle and punch detailing on the toe. Size twelve-point-five. Brand, Peter Smythe. You haven’t found a stray shoe on the premises, have you?”
Annie had her emotions under control and shook her head. “No. You’re sure you checked his room thoroughly? Guests often leave things in the strangest places. Perhaps he changed shoes after breakfast before he went out?”
“No, ma’am, I searched it top to bottom. There’s no extra shoe. And that wouldn’t explain how he ended up with one shoe in the Roman Baths.”
“No, of course not.” Annie touched her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m still so shocked by the news that I’m afraid I’m not thinking clearly.”
“I understand, especially seeing as how he was an old friend of yours and your husband’s,” the sergeant said. “I’ll just check around the main rooms, if you don’t mind. You said he went to his room and came down to this floor again?”
“Yes.” She waved her hand at the parlor and bar. “Please look around.”
Sergeant Gadd said, “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.” He moved to the far side of the parlor where he got down on his hands and knees and looked under a chair, then he stood and worked his way around the room, checking under and behind all the furniture.
Elise cleared her throat, and we all turned back to her. She kept her voice low as she said, “As I was saying, each of you should find someone to verify your whereabouts. I spoke to Sergeant Gadd when he first arrived. The inquest date hasn’t been set yet, but it will probably be in a few days. It’s imperative each of you firm up your alibis. If we can all prove we were somewhere else when Cyrus was killed, then the production will at least stand a chance of going on.”
Sergeant Gadd had made a complete circuit of the parlor and paused in the archway that divided it from the bar. “Come in, Sergeant. We’re finished.” Elise stood and moved across the room to him. “I have a few more questions. If you can’t answer them, I’ll need your superior to get back to me.”
“We’re always glad to help in any way we can.”
“Excellent. Now, tell me, are there cameras at the Roman Baths? For monitoring, that sort of thing.”
“Yes, ma’am, they have cameras, but they weren’t in use today.”
“Of course that would be our luck,” Elise said. “What happened? Did someone forget to flip a switch to turn them on?”
“I don’t know. I only know that the director was apologetic about it.”
Holding a dishcloth, Annie leaned around the wall that separated the kitchen area. “I can tell you about that, Elise. The system is being upgraded. It was supposed to be done a day or two ago, but they had some glitch and are still working on it.”
Dominic trotted down the stairs and must have caught the end of the conversation. He said to Elise, “If you want to know anything about the Baths, Annie is the person to ask. She volunteers there, leads tours, organizes fundraising drives, everything.” The phone at the front desk rang, and Dominic excused himself, jogging quickly to the office in the entry.
Elise turned back to Sergeant Gadd. “Any further word on the inquest?”
“That I don’t know. I can have the inspector contact you.”
“Do that. In fact, would you contact him now and ask?” Sergeant Gadd agreed and took out his phone. While he was leaving a message, Elise shifted her attention back to our group. “Paul, you focus on alibis for you and me. Alex, you help Kate,” Elise said in a tone that indicated I would need all the help I could get, “with those places we talked about earlier.” She glanced at Sergeant Gadd with a significant look then mouthed the words the shops. In a low voice she added, “Then move on to finding someone who can confirm Kate’s movements this morning. Felix, you—”
“Yes, yes,” he said. “Find some poor blighter on a park bench who will swear—”
“That’s not the idea at all, Felix.”
“Might as well be.” Felix wrapped his scarf around his neck, which bunched up and stuck up above his collar. He jammed his wool newsboy cap crookedly on his head. “What I want to know is when are we going to do some scouting? You know, work. The actual reason that we’re here. Instead of all this larking about?”
Elise gripped Felix’s arm and firmly propelled him around Sergeant Gadd, who was wrapping up his voicemail message. She kept her voice quiet as they moved across the parlor. “You sort out your alibi, then we’ll get back to serious scouting. There’s no need to scout, if the production is going to fold.”
After Sergeant Gadd ended his call, it only took him a few seconds to search the tiny bar area. He searched around the tables, then went behind the bar area and looked in the cabinets. He checked the trashcan, then thanked Annie for her cooperation and departed.
Elise returned to the bar. I was waiting for her, but before I could speak, she held up a hand. “Kate, I know you don’t want to follow up on Octavia’s alibi, but that’s what I want you to do. You’re creative. You’ll find a way, I’m sure.”
“No, Alex is creative. I’m the logical, practical one and focusing on alibis isn’t the best way to go about this. If you want to find out what happened to Cyrus you’re going about it the wrong way.”
Elise pressed her lips together and blew out a long breath through her nose. “Oh, really? You’d do it differently, I suppose. Well, I’m in charge.” She gave me a brief condescending smile. “We’re going about it my way. And it’s worked so far, hasn’t it? You turned up that valuable bit of info about Octavia, which is a stroke of luck—imagine Cyrus’s wife, here in town. Even I know that it’s usually the spouse who is the most likely perpetrator. No, we’re staying the course.” She pointed a finger at me. “You go to those shops and get something out of them. I don’t care how. And if it turns out that Octavia wasn’t there, then go back to the hotel and quiz the doorman and every employee until you find out where she did go.” Elise swept out of the room.
I stood still and focused on a corner of the ceiling.
“She seems to have forgotten to issue you a police badge and warrant,” Alex said.
“Exactly. That’s it exactly. The shop employees won’t give me information on their customers. Why should they? What she’s asking is impossible.” I rubbed my forehead. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. This is Elise we’re talking about. She always asks for the impossible.”
“And she wants it ASAP,” Alex said.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s true, too.”
Alex caught my hand. “Come on, I have an idea. Let’s at least make the attempt.”
I sighed. “I suppose we have to try. If not…well, it will just be worse.”
“Elise will do it,” Alex sa
id, voicing my thoughts.
I glanced out the bow windows to the sky, which was still dark gray. “I want my umbrella before I head out again.” Alex nodded and followed me up the curving staircase to my room.
“That’s a climb,” he said when we reached the top floor.
“I should be in excellent shape after a few days, especially if we’re not going to be able to leave,” I said, some of my frustration with Elise draining away. She was only being her usual demanding self and there was no reason to be grouchy and ruin my time with Alex.
I tossed the paper with the timelines on the bed. “Can you believe that? Only Elise would have an assistant create a spreadsheet of suspects and try to pin down our alibis. I know she’s a micromanager, but that’s going a little far.”
Alex didn’t reply, and I looked up from my suitcase as I opened it. He was frowning.
“She is right about the inquest, I think. They can’t have it for a few days, and they’ll certainly want us all here for it.”
“I know. It makes me grumpy when she’s right.” I found my umbrella and tucked it away in my tote bag. “But she’s not right about the most likely suspects. Just because she doesn’t want it to be anyone in our group, doesn’t mean she can make it be someone else.” I picked up the paper. “I mean, look at all those blank spaces. Any one of us—except you, of course—could have killed Cyrus.”
“Don’t leave me out. If this were one of those convoluted Agatha Christie books that you like to read that would mean that I did it since I’m absolutely the only one who couldn’t have done it—you have odd literary taste by the way, Austen and Christie.”
“Austen and Christie aren’t completely unrelated. Christie wrote romance subplots in her mysteries, and Austen put mysteries and puzzles in her romances. And, they were both masters of their genres. But you are right, as far as detective fiction goes, you’d be at the top of my list.”
“Perhaps Viv and I are in it together,” Alex said, “Maybe she has some strange connection to Cyrus, and we concocted our story of touring Bath—hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I set my tote bag on my shoulder and headed for the door.
Alex stepped into my path. “Something is wrong. You’re frowning. Rather fiercely. I know you run from any emotional discussion like someone fleeing a burning building, but I can’t let this go, not after it was obviously something I said that made you shut down.”
“Alex,” I said warningly.
He leaned against the door. “I have all day. After all, I have an alibi.”
I clenched my teeth together. “All right. It’s Viv. I don’t like the idea of you traipsing around Bath with her or the fact that she’s your alibi. Joking about it just…set me off, I guess.”
Alex tilted his head. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Don’t I?”
“You don’t trust me?”
“Of course I trust you. It’s Viv that makes me uncomfortable. Old girlfriends showing up is not good.”
“She wasn’t my girlfriend.”
“But she wanted to be, which is worse.”
“Kate.” Alex drew me into his arms. “You’re who I want to be with,” he said. “Viv is a friend from a long time ago. I’m not attracted to her now…and I wasn’t years ago either,” he said between kisses.
After a long moment, he lifted his head, and I untwined my arms from around his neck. “Okay, you convinced me. But no more jokes about being ‘in it’ with Viv.”
“I can do that.” Alex said.
“All right. Off to attempt another of Elise’s impossible assignments.”
Annie was waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. “I have a message for you from Elise. She says to meet at the top of Milsom Street at six for dinner.”
“Okay, thanks.” I hesitated for a second, debating if I should say anything, but then decided I had to ask. Her eyes were still pink. She seemed to be the only person mourning Cyrus’s death. “Um, are you okay? You seem pretty upset about Cyrus,” I said, feeling awkward. I didn’t like delving into emotions and possibly overstepping boundaries.
She tilted her head and smiled sadly. “That’s kind of you to ask. I’m sorry I’m such a basket case. I’m just gutted. It’s not as if he was an incredibly close friend. We only saw him a couple of times a year.”
“But he was an old friend?” Alex asked.
“Yes.” She smiled fondly. “I know he was a beast most of the time, but we worked together years ago, in a play. He’d been acting for years. It was right before he transitioned to directing, but since he’d been around so long, he knew absolutely everyone. It was my first play with anything more than one line, and he was kind to me. He helped me get my next job, too.”
“What play was it?” I asked.
“The Importance of Being Earnest. It was a silly romp, but we had fun,” she said with a sigh then waved her hand. “Of course, it wasn’t long before I realized that the theater wasn’t for me. Dominic and I lived in London then, but then Dominic found this place and wanted to buy it.” Her gaze roved to the ceiling. “I guess lodging is more my line. Doesn’t sound nearly as romantic as acting, does it?”
I was glad to see her smile.
“Annie, you’re boring the guests.” Dominic, carrying a stack of papers, came through from the kitchen area. “Let them get on with their day.” He pushed through our group and trotted up the stairs.
His words wiped the smile off Annie’s face. She frowned and called up the stairs, “Just because you and Cyrus didn’t get on doesn’t mean everyone disliked him. There’s nothing wrong with a little reminiscing about a person after they are gone.”
“I didn’t realize that Dominic and Cyrus didn’t get along,” I said, glancing back at Alex who stood behind me on the last step. “Cyrus gave us the impression that he was close friends with both you and Dominic.”
Annie lowered her voice. “We used to be. We were quite a foursome for a while there, me and Dominic and Cyrus and Octavia. Those years when we all lived in London, we saw one another quite a bit. When we bought this place and moved here, our friendship lagged, but it was more than the difficulty of not being in the same city.”
Her forehead wrinkled. “I’m not quite sure what happened. Cyrus must have said something to Dominic—that’s usually what happens with Cyrus. He has—I mean, had—such a rough exterior. He offended a lot of people. But I suppose he had to, as a director. He once told me that he knew he couldn’t make everyone happy so he didn’t see the point in trying to make anyone happy. Called it coddling.” Her tone changed and became brisk. “But Dominic is right. I’m keeping you here, yammering away, when you have things to do. You have an umbrella? Good. Good. Never go out in Bath without one.”
Chapter 10
“SO WHAT’S YOUR IDEA?” I asked as we stood outside the exclusive boutique called Celeste’s. Alex had asked me what Octavia looked like on the short walk to the shop.
“Just follow my lead,” he said. “I’ll take point on this one. You can do the next one.” Alex held the door open for me.
The scent of honeysuckle enveloped us as we moved through the shop, our feet sinking into the plush carpet. A few racks of clothes were scattered around, but most of the space was taken up with enormous ottomans covered in subtle tones of taupe and cream. A woman with a sweep of dark brown hair falling over one eye met us before we were halfway into the store. “Welcome to Celeste’s.”
“Hello,” Alex said, “I believe my aunt, Octavia Blakely, was in here earlier today. Blond hair, black jacket, and pants.”
“I’m not sure—”
Alex pressed on. “I need to buy a birthday gift for her and this is one of her favorite stores, but I don’t want to get her anything that she already has.”
The saleswoman’s face, which had been guarded at the beginning of Alex’s speech cleared as soon as he said the words birthday present. “I believe I do remember her. Lovely woman, I helped her myself. She was intereste
d in our dress collection.”
By the time we left ten minutes later, we had purchased an outrageously expensive pair of tiny silver earrings, the cheapest thing we could find in the store, and because of Alex’s expert questioning we knew Octavia had arrived when they opened at nine thirty and spent an hour in the store.
Alex handed me the gift-wrapped box. “I wonder if Elise will put it down as a business expense?”
“She’ll probably return it.” I shoved it into my tote bag. “That was impressive. You’re so much better with people than I am.” He was able to read people at a glance.
He lifted a shoulder. “She wanted to make a sale.”
“There was more to it than that. You had her wrapped around your finger from the moment you smiled at her.”
Alex gripped the handle of the door at the next shop called The Cottage. “You’re up.”
“What? No, you should ask the questions again. You did such a good job the first time.”
“But then you wouldn’t get any practice. You can do it. Besides, it’s a guy. You’ll do better with him than I would. Just look at him with those big eyes of yours, and he’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Alex gave me a little push in the small of my back and propelled me over the threshold into a shop filled with candles, potpourri, and dried flower arrangements. Well, at least we’d be able to get out of here with a much cheaper gift for my “aunt” than in the last shop.
The salesman, a man in his early twenties wearing a scratchy-looking sweater vest over an oxford shirt with dress pants approached, his gaze darting from me to Alex.
I said, “I think my aunt was in here earlier today.” I described Octavia and repeated Alex’s spiel about not wanting to purchase a duplicate of what she might have already bought. The man hesitated. “I’m not sure I remember her. We’ve been so busy today.”
I looked around the store, which was completely empty of customers except for Alex and me. I shot Alex a glance, the words dead end running through my mind. Alex made a subtle movement that I almost missed. Before he turned away to browse the shop, he rubbed his thumb across the tips of his fingers.
