Death in an Elegant City: Book Four in the Murder on Location Series

by Sara Rosett

  “So Annie reached in to turn on the light and got blood on her hand that way. I wonder if Annie is left- or right-handed? I don’t think I’ve seen her write anything, but I know it was her left hand that was bloody.”

  “I don’t know which hand she uses,” Alex said, “but I suppose she would use whichever hand was free since she was maneuvering with one crutch today.”

  “Her right leg is in the cast so she has to hold the crutch with her right hand. She could have reached across and switched on the light with her left hand because it was her free hand.”

  “Yes. At least, that’s what I think happened.”

  I thought back. “The coating of blood on her left hand was thin. Not like…well, you know what I’m thinking.”

  He nodded and dropped the leaf. “More like it had been transferred there rather than had blood gush over it.”

  I watched a leaf fall to the ground then said, “So if Annie was simply unlucky enough to be the first one on the scene, and Dominic was out at the store, then that leaves a very short suspect list for both deaths—Elise and Felix. Oh, and Melissa.”

  “As long as the deaths are linked and the same person killed both Cyrus and Mia,” Alex said. “And it does seem unlikely that two murderers would happen so close together, time-wise, and within the loosely connected group of people at the hotel. Did Melissa have any reason to do away with Cyrus? Or the opportunity?”

  “She said he was awful to Paul, but she didn’t know about it until last night, so I’d say no. But I’m sure Byron will follow up and verify that she was at the Fashion Museum all day yesterday.”

  A piercing whistle sounded, and Alex stood. “I believe I hear Elise’s melodious tones.”

  “I just hope Melissa didn’t take a long, solitary lunch yesterday,” I said as we made our way back through the trees.

  Chapter 16

  IT WASN’T ELISE WHO WAS ready to go; it was Felix. He rounded us up and herded us all into the van like a sheep dog. The drive back was as quiet as the drive out had been, but Felix was right about the traffic, which slowed us down. We didn’t get back until it was well after six.

  Paul dropped us at the end of the pedestrian walkway and went to park the van. The police vehicles were gone, and the only trace of their presence inside the quiet hotel was crime tape sealing off the doorway and window to the little office.

  The hotel seemed unnaturally still. As we moved through the parlor, Annie came out of the kitchen. She looked pale and, unlike her normal quick pace, she moved slowly on her crutch as she crossed the room to us. “The police are finished here…for now. I suppose they’ll be back, but the inspector said you’re free to return to your rooms. We can go on as normal with serving meals and using this portion of the hotel,” she said with a lift of the hand that encompassed the parlor, bar, kitchen, and dining room.

  The faint clink of silverware sounded as someone moved in the kitchen, then Dominic appeared, wiping his hands on a towel.

  Elise glanced from one of them to the other, then said, “Would you like for us to clear out? I’m sure we could find another hotel.”

  I almost did a double-take, but managed to refrain myself. It wasn’t like Elise to think of other people.

  “On a Friday near a holiday?” Annie said, referring to Guy Fawkes Night, the holiday celebrating the discovery of a plot to blow up Parliament in the 1600s. The actual day of the celebration had fallen in the middle of the week, but I’d seen a couple of advertisements for official celebrations with fireworks displays that would take place over the weekend, beginning tomorrow.

  “Everything will be full up.” Annie shook her head. “No, you must stay. It will help—I think.” She paused and blinked, looking away out the window to the street. “Having you here will give me some normal things to do. I need normal at the moment.”

  “Yes, please do stay,” Dominic added in his normal hearty tones as he put his arm lightly around Annie’s shoulders. While Annie still had a slightly shell-shocked look about her, Dominic looked like his normal self, as if Mia’s death hadn’t impacted him at all. Only his frequent, quick glances at Annie showed that anything was wrong. She shifted away and ran the back of her hand along her lashes.

  “Well, since you feel that way,” Elise said, “we’d be happy to stay. I’m sure we all have plans for tonight and won’t bother you,” she added running her gaze around the group.

  “I’m dining with a friend,” Felix said. “If you’ll excuse me…” He skirted around Dominic and Annie and went up the stairs.

  Alex looked at me and said, “We have dinner plans as well.”

  After the group dinner last night, Alex and I had planned to go out as a couple tonight. “Yes. I won’t be a moment.” I went upstairs and dumped my tote bag on the bed as I looked around the room, but I didn’t see any evidence that anyone from the police had been inside the room and searched our belongings. I changed into a warm sweater.

  When I came back down a little later, I found Alex sitting in one of the club chairs, staring out the window. “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  “Cleared out. Felix came down looking spiffy and nearly jogged out of here.”

  “Felix? Spiffy?” The two words didn’t go together.

  “Suit and tie and cologne.”

  “That’s…unusual.”

  “And Elise told Paul they were having a working dinner, poor guy. They left right after. Is Melissa around?”

  I shook my head. “No sign that she’s been back.”

  Her side of the room had looked as if a small tornado had ripped through, flinging clothes, makeup, and shoes in every direction. Melissa was like Alex, who thrived in domestic chaos. It made me twitchy. I was an organized person and liked to have each thing in its place. I’d ignored Melissa’s mess and focused instead on changing into a black sweater with gray pants and boots for dinner. This time of year the sun set in late afternoon. After the warmth and sunshine of the afternoon, the evening had turned cold quickly. “She’s probably working overtime to make up for this morning. The preview party is tomorrow night.”

  “That’s right. I’d forgotten.”

  Tomorrow, Saturday, was to have been the last scheduled day of our scouting trip. The plan had been for our group to attend the preview party for the exhibit at the Fashion Museum with Elise doing some heavy-duty schmoozing with the influential people. Melissa had arranged tickets for us. I’d looked forward to it because the Fashion Museum was part of the building that held Bath’s famous Assembly Rooms, where Austen had often attended dances and other society events. But Cyrus’s death and now Mia’s had pushed all thoughts of galas and parties to the back of my mind. Only the fact that Melissa had left two tickets to the party on my bed upstairs had brought it back to the forefront of my thoughts.

  “Ready to scrounge for a table?” Alex asked, extending his arm. We didn’t have reservations anywhere, which we’d learned last night were recommended when Bath was full of tourists. That was one reason we ended up at the pub. Elise couldn’t get us a table large enough anywhere else.

  I slipped my hand through the crook of his elbow. “Let’s give it a shot. There’s always O’Toole’s as a last resort.”

  We found a little Italian place tucked away near the theater and managed to snag a table for two that was wedged into a corner near the front window. There was barely enough room for us to squeeze into our chairs, but we were glad to get it. We ordered a Margherita pizza and watched the parade of people on the other side of the glass hurrying to make the first show.

  By unspoken agreement, we avoided the subject of Cyrus and Mia throughout dinner. It was only afterward as we strolled through Bath that I brought it up again. “I wonder how long we’ll have to stay here in Bath? Byron wanted us to stay for Cyrus’s inquest, and I’m sure he’ll want us to stay for Mia’s as well.”

  “Since we haven’t done much actual location scouting it might be a good thing if we extend for a few more days,” Alex said. “We haven�
�t checked any hotels.”

  A big part of planning location shoots involved figuring out where to put everyone when the actual shooting wasn’t going on. We needed hotels near enough to the location that transportation wouldn’t be a problem as well as hotels that had plenty of single room accommodations with en suite facilities. And then there were the two important requirements that were sort of at odds with each other—a quiet location so that the crew could sleep at odd hours, and extended hours for the bar and room service. “Yes, that has been completely wiped off the agenda—”

  We were walking along George Street, the busy street that crossed Milsom Street when I slowed outside a steakhouse as a familiar face caught my eye. The windows ran along George Street, and I had a good view of the first few rows of tables.

  “Hey, isn’t that Felix?” I tilted my head toward a table for two. “I think it’s him, but he looks so different.” His hair, instead of falling over his face and poking out at odd angles around his ears and collar, was combed back from his prominent brow, which made him look much more presentable. But there was more to the change than just a physical aspect. He leaned forward over the table as if he didn’t want to miss a single word the woman across from him said. He looked slightly dazed as well—as if he was looking at a bright light that had blinded him.

  “And he’s not alone,” Alex said. “No wonder he sprinted out of the hotel. He had a dinner date.”

  “He does look spiffy. Is his shirt actually ironed? And his tie isn’t even crooked.”

  Felix’s companion, a woman in a rose-colored dress, was seated facing away from the window so all I could see was the back of her blond head and one hand, which held a glass of white wine. She laughed at something Felix said then turned to the waiter with a smile still on her face as he approached the table.

  “That’s Octavia,” I said.

  “Cyrus’s widow?”

  “His merry widow, by the looks of it.”

  “Oh, and you’ll never guess who Alex and I saw on a date tonight,” I said to Melissa later that night. I was already in bed reading when she stumbled in at nearly one in the morning. I had tried to sleep, but my mind had continued to spin, running through the events of the last two days. After an hour or so, I’d given up and delved into Agatha Christie’s Peril at End House on my e-reader.

  Melissa had staggered through the door, this time not because of alcohol but because of exhaustion. “We’re so close,” she had said, talking about the exhibit at the Fashion Museum. “Only a few finishing touches left for tomorrow.”

  She was now banging about in the bathroom, but when I mentioned seeing someone on a date, all noises stopped abruptly.

  “Who? Paul?” she asked with forced casualness.

  I grimaced. I’d wondered if I’d possibly misread her last night, thinking that perhaps I was wrong, and she didn’t have a bad case of unrequited love directed at Paul. This morning, the few times I’d looked toward her while we waited to be questioned by the police, she’d hardly glanced at Paul and had only said a general goodbye to us all before rushing off to work on the exhibit when we were dismissed. Her seemingly careless tone told me I was wrong. I said quickly, “No, you’ll never guess. Felix.”

  Her head popped around the doorframe of the bathroom. “Felix?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Yes with Cyrus’s wife, Octavia. Or widow, I mean.” I brought her up-to-date on what I’d seen in the Royal Crescent Hotel because she hadn’t been there when I told the scouting crew about it. By the time I finished, she was clicking off the bathroom light.

  Melissa presented a hard shell to the world, and I tended to think of her as tough and scrappy, but with her face scrubbed clean of her heavy eyeliner and her eyebrow rings removed, she looked uncharacteristically vulnerable.

  She crawled into her single bed with a sigh and fell back against the pillow. “I don’t suppose that’s so weird…not the part about going out on a date on the day after your husband is killed, if they lived separate lives. But that she’d go with Felix. He’s just not what comes to mind when you think of boyfriend material, is he?” she said with a laugh.

  “No. Definitely not.”

  “But, then again…” she frowned at the ceiling, “…now that I think about it, he is an old friend of her’s. More than a friend actually.”

  “Really?” I put down my e-reader.

  Melissa rolled onto her side. “Yeah, Octavia and Felix go way back. I forget who was talking about it. I mentioned Cyrus to…” she yawned, “…someone…oh, it was Patty in Post Production. This was a few months ago. Patty always knows all the gossip—and can’t wait to share it. Anyway, she said that Octavia and Felix were quite the item at one time…engaged, in fact.”

  “Wow, he’s certainly been cagey about that. Not a word about it.”

  “Can’t say that I blame him. Octavia broke it off with Felix once she met Cyrus.”

  “Ah. I wouldn’t want to talk about something like that either.”

  “Yeah, apparently it was no secret. Patty was around then. She said everyone knew that Felix was loopy about Octavia, but then Cyrus came along.” Melissa snuggled deeper under the covers. “Once Cyrus was on the scene, Octavia dropped Felix.”

  “How sad,” I said, thinking of Felix’s expression that I’d seen tonight through the window. He’d looked eager and slightly dazed at the same time.

  “He had money. Cyrus, I mean. Felix was stony broke. Cyrus came from old money. Upper crust education. Old family pile in the country, but unlike so many of those blokes, Cyrus’s family actually has money. Must be investments or something. So it was goodbye Felix, hello Cyrus.” Melissa scowled. “Can you imagine freely picking Cyrus as a husband? Not that I think Felix is a prize or anything. I mean, they’re both so old, but at least Felix isn’t a pompous twit.” She yawned again and rolled over.

  I sat thinking about what she’d said, all the questions still swirling in my mind, which brought me back to the issue of alibis. “Hey, Melissa,” I said softly. “Are you still awake?”

  “Hmm,” she murmured without rolling over.

  “Were you at the Fashion Museum all day yesterday?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You didn’t take a long lunch or anything like that?”

  “Are you kidding? We worked non-stop all day, and we still have stuff left to do. Marie even had sandwiches brought in for lunch so we could work straight through.”

  “Okay, that’s good.”

  I expected her to ask why I wanted to know, but she only readjusted her pillow. After a few seconds I could tell from her breathing that she had fallen asleep almost immediately.

  It was a long time before I slept.

  Chapter 17

  ELISE HADN’T SET A TIME for us to meet the next morning, but by eight we were all in the dining room. Breakfast was a somber affair with Annie and Dominic working in complete silence as they moved back and forth from the kitchen to the dining room, serving our food and distributing coffees to the locals who dropped in for their morning caffeine hit. Mia must have been their only other employee because no one else helped them with the food. Annie looked more haggard than she had the day before. She leaned heavily on her crutch as she worked. Dominic did most of the work, swiftly delivering plates, refilling coffee and teapots, and then swooping empty plates away.

  Melissa grabbed a croissant. “Must dash. Loads of last minute details. I’ll see you all tonight.”

  Annie, who had just refilled the juicer with fresh oranges stopped, the empty basket pressed into the side of her body that wasn’t leaning on the crutch. “Oh. The preview party. I’d completely forgotten.”

  “Will you be there?” I asked.

  Dominic splashed a refill of coffee into my cup. “Of course we’ll be there. Annie has her finger in every pie in town, I think.”

  The words themselves weren’t mean, but his tone was disparaging. Annie’s mouth flattened into a line. “It’s important to support what we can. No one wou
ld come to visit Bath if there was nothing to do here.”

  “I doubt the Roman Baths will turn to dust if you’re not personally involved in every fundraising effort,” Dominic said. “They’ve moldered on for thousands of years without you. Same thing with the Fashion Museum.”

  Annie seemed to shrink a bit at his words. “Nevertheless, we are committed for tonight.” She gripped her crutch and thumped slowly into the kitchen where a delivery had arrived.

  Dominic threw us all a rueful smile. “Annie and her causes. It’s always something.” He followed her into the kitchen. Over the clatter of dishes and rush of water I heard Annie’s voice as she said sharply, “If you don’t want to go, stay home. I’m going. I should be there to support Marie.”

  “Ah, support.” Dominic’s deep voice with its sarcastic tone carried into the dining room. “The magic word. We must support this or that. Why? It doesn’t matter if we show up tonight or not. It won’t make one bit of difference.”

  The sound of running water drowned out their voices. Elise cleared her throat. “Our itinerary has been thrown off rather radically, so today it’s important that we get several things accomplished. Alex and Kate, you check these hotels.” She handed a list to Alex. “Paul and I will take this second list,” she said, nodding to the paper that Paul held. She glanced toward the kitchen where the low angry conversation continued. “Felix, by my calculations, you and I are the only ones left who need an alibi. As we discussed yesterday, I’m sure the two deaths are linked. Since Paul, Kate, and Alex were together when Mia’s death occurred, I’m sure the inspector will consider them in the clear for Cyrus’s murder as well. After Paul and I check the hotels on our list, I’ll try to firm up my alibi for the time Cyrus was killed. Paul, I expect you to do the same. Pity neither of us came down a bit earlier yesterday.”