At Bertram's Hotel mm-12

by Agatha Christie

  "Yes, I think that would be best."

  "Nice place you've got here," said the large, fat, bovine-looking man, turning his head back towards her. "Comfortable," he added, looking approvingly at the large fire. "Good old-fashioned comfort."

  Miss Gorringe smiled with an air of pleasure.

  "Yes indeed. We pride ourselves on making our visitors comfortable," she said. She turned to her assistant. "Will you carry on, Alice? There is the ledger. Lady Jocelyn will be arriving quite soon. She is sure to want to change her room as soon as she sees it but you must explain to her we are really full up. If necessary, you can show her number 340 on the third floor and offer her that instead. It's not a very pleasant room and I'm sure she will be content with her present one as soon as she sees that."

  "Yes, Miss Gorringe. I'll do just that, Miss Gorringe."

  "And remind Colonel Mortimer that his field glasses are here. He asked me to keep them for him this morning. Don't let him go off without them."

  "No, Miss Gorringe."

  These duties accomplished, Miss Gorringe looked at the two men, came out from behind the desk and walked along to a plain mahogany door with no legend on it. Miss Gorringe opened it and they went into a small, rather sad-looking office. All three sat down.

  "The missing man is Canon Pennyfather, I understand," said Inspector Campbell. He looked at his notes. "I've got Sergeant Wadell's report. Perhaps you'll tell me in your own words just what occurred."

  "I don't think that Canon Pennyfather has really disappeared in the sense in which one would usually use that word," said Miss Gorringe. "I think, you know, that he's just met someone somewhere, some old friend or something like that, and had perhaps gone off with him to some scholarly meeting or reunion or something of that kind, on the Continent. He is so very vague."

  "You've known him for a long time?"

  "Oh yes, he's been coming here to stay for-let me see-oh five or six years at least, I should think."

  "You've been here some time yourself, ma'am," said Chief Inspector Davy, suddenly putting in a word.

  "I have been here, let me think, fourteen years," said Miss Gorringe.

  "It's a nice place," repeated Davy again. "And Canon Pennyfather usually stayed here when he was in London? Is that right?"

  "Yes. He always came to us. He wrote well beforehand to retain his room. He was much less vague on paper than he was in real life. He asked for a room from the seventeenth to the twenty-first. During that time he expected to be away for one or two nights, and he explained that he wished to keep his room on while he was away. He quite often did that."

  "When did you begin to get worried about him?" asked Campbell.

  "Well, I didn't really. Of course it was awkward. You see, his room was let on from the twenty-third and when I realized-I didn't at first-that he hadn't come back from Lugano-"

  "I've got Lucerne here in my notes," said Campbell. "Yes, yes, I think it was Lucerne. Some archaeological congress or other. Anyway, when I realized he hadn't come back here and that his baggage was still here waiting in his room, it made things rather awkward. You see, we are very booked up at this time of year and I had someone else coming into his room. The Honourable Mrs. Saunders, who lives at Lyme Regis. She always had that room. And then his housekeeper rang up. She was worried."

  "The housekeeper's name is Mrs. McCrae, so I understand from Archdeacon Simmons. Do you know her?"

  "Not personally, no, but I have spoken to her on the telephone once or twice. She is, I think, a very reliable woman and has been with Canon Pennyfather for some years. She was worried naturally. I believe she and Archdeacon Simmons got in touch with near friends and relations but they knew nothing of Canon Pennyfather's movements. And since he was expecting the archdeacon to stay with him it certainly seemed very odd-in fact it still does-that the canon should not have returned home."

  "Is this canon usually as absent-minded as that?" asked Father.

  Miss Gorringe ignored him. This large man, presumably the accompanying sergeant, seemed to her to be pushing himself forward a little too much.

  "And now I understand," continued Miss Gorringe, in an annoyed voice, "and now I understand from Archdeacon Simmons that the canon never even went to this conference in Lucerne."

  "Did he send any message to say he wouldn't go?"

  "I don't think so-not from here. No telegram of anything like that. I really know nothing about Lucerne-I am really only concerned with our side of the matter. It has got into the evening papers, I seethe fact that he is missing, I mean. They haven't mentioned he was staying here. I hope they won't. We don't want the press here, our visitors wouldn't like that at all. If you can keep them off us, Inspector Campbell, we should be very grateful. I mean it's not as if he had disappeared from here."

  "His luggage is still here?"

  "Yes. In the baggage room. If he didn't go to Lucerne, have you considered the possibility of his being run over? Something like that?"

  "Nothing like that has happened to him."

  "It really does seem very, very curious," said Miss Gorringe, a faint flicker of interest appearing in her manner, to replace the annoyance. "I mean, it does make one wonder where he could have gone and why?"

  Father looked at her comprehendingly. "Of course," he said. "You've only been thinking of it from the hotel angle. Very natural."

  "I understand," said Inspector Campbell, referring once more to his notes, "that Canon Pennyfather left here about six-thirty on the evening of Thursday the nineteenth. He had with him a small overnight bag and he left here in a taxi, directing the commissionaire to tell the driver to drive to the Athenaeum Club."

  Miss Gorringe nodded her head. "Yes, he dined at the Athenaeum Club-Archdeacon Simmons told me that that was the place he was last seen."

  There was a firmness in Miss Gorringe's voice as she transferred the responsibility of seeing the canon last from Bertram's Hotel to the Athenaeum Club.

  "Well, it's nice to get the facts straight," said Father in a gentle rumbling voice. "We've got 'em straight now. He went off with his little blue B.O.A.C. bag or whatever he'd got with him-it was a blue B.O.A.C. bag, yes? He went off and he didn't come back, and that's that."

  "So you see, really I cannot help you," said Miss Gorringe, showing a disposition to rise to her feet and get back to work.

  "It doesn't seem as if you could help us," said Father, "but someone else might be able to," he added.

  "Someone else?"

  "Why, yes," said Father. "One of the staff perhaps."

  "I don't think anyone knows anything; or they would certainly have reported it to me."

  "Well, perhaps they might. Perhaps they mightn't. What I mean is, they'd have told you if they'd distinctly known anything. But I was thinking more of something he might have said."

  "What sort of thing?" said Miss Gorringe, looking perplexed.

  "Oh, just some chance word that might give one a clue. Something like 'I'm going to see an old friend tonight that I haven't seen since we met in Arizona.' Something like that. Or 'I'm going to stay next week with a niece of mine for her daughter's confirmation.' With absent-minded people, you know, clues like that are a great help. They show what was in the person's mind. It may be that after his dinner at the Athenaeum, he gets into a taxi and thinks 'Now where am I going?' and having got-say-the confirmation in his mind-thinks he's going off there."

  "Well, I see what you mean," said Miss Gorringe doubtfully. "It seems a little unlikely."

  "Oh, one never knows one's luck," said Father cheerfully. "Then there are the various guests here. I suppose Canon Pennyfather knew some of them since he came here fairly often."

  "Oh yes," said Miss Gorringe, "Let me see now. I've seen him talking to-yes, Lady Selina Hazy. Then there was the Bishop of Norwich. They're old friends, I believe. They were at Oxford together. And Mrs. Jameson and her daughters. They come from the same part of the world. Oh yes, quite a lot of people."

  "You see," said Father,
"he might have talked to one of them. He might have just mentioned some little thing that would give us a clue. Is there anyone staying here now that the canon knew fairly well?"

  Miss Gorringe frowned in thought. "Well, I think General Radley is here still. And there's an old lady who came up from the country-who used to stay here as a girl, so she told me. Let me see, I can't remember her name at the moment, but I can find it for you. Oh yes, Miss Marple, that's her name. I believe she knew him."

  "Well, we could make a start with those two. And there'd be a chambermaid, I suppose."

  "Oh yes," said Miss Gorringe. "But she has been interviewed already by Sergeant Wadell."

  "I know. But not perhaps from this angle. What about the waiter who attended on his table. Or the head waiter?"

  "There's Henry, of course," said Miss Gorringe.

  "Who's Henry?" asked Father.

  Miss Gorringe looked almost shocked. It was to her impossible that anyone should not know Henry.

  "Henry has been here for more years than I can say," she said. "You must have noticed him serving teas as you came in."

  "Kind of personality," said Davy. "I remember noticing him."

  "I don't know what we should do without Henry," said Miss Gon-inge with feeling. "He really is wonderful. He sets the tone of the place, you know."

  "Perhaps he might like to serve some tea to me," said Chief Inspector Davy. "Muffins, I saw he'd got there. I'd like a good muffin again."

  "Certainly if you like," said Miss Gorringe, rather coldly. "Shall I order two teas to be served to you in the lounge?" she added, turning to Inspector Campbell.

  "That would-" the inspector began, when suddenly the door opened and Mr. Humfries appeared in his Olympian manner.

  He looked slightly taken aback, then looked inquiringly at Miss Gorringe. Miss Gorringe explained.

  "These are two gentlemen from Scotland Yard, Mr. Humfries," she said.

  "Detective Inspector Campbell," said Campbell.

  "Oh yes. Yes, of course," said Mr. Humfries. "The matter of Canon Pennyfather, I suppose? Most extraordinary business. I hope nothing's happened to him, poor old chap."

  "So do I," said Miss Gorringe. "Such a dear old man."

  "One of the old school," said Mr. Humfries approvingly.

  "You seem to have quite a lot of the old school here," observed Chief Inspector Davy.

  "I suppose we do, I suppose we do," said Mr. Humfries. "Yes, in many ways we are quite a survival."

  "We have our regulars, you know," said Miss Gorringe. She spoke proudly. "The same people come back year after year. We have a lot of Americans. People from Boston, and Washington. Very quiet, nice people."

  "They like our English atmosphere," said Mr. Humfries, showing his very white teeth in a smile.

  Father looked at him thoughtfully.

  Inspector Campbell said, "You're quite sure that no message came here from the canon? I mean it might have been taken by someone who forgot to write it down or to pass it on."

  "Telephone messages are always taken down most carefully," said Miss Gorringe with ice in her voice. "I cannot conceive it possible that a message would not have been passed on to me or to the appropriate person on duty."

  She glared at him.

  Inspector Campbell looked momentarily taken aback.

  "We've really answered all these questions before, you know," said Mr. Humfries, also with a touch of ice in his voice. "We gave all the information at our disposal to your sergeant-I can't remember his name for the moment."

  Father stirred a little and said, in a kind of homely way, "Well you see, things have begun to look rather more serious. It looks like a bit more than absentmindedness. That's why, I think, it would be a good thing if we could have a word or two with those two people you mentioned-General Radley and Miss Marple."

  "You want me to-to arrange an interview with them?" Mr. Humfries looked rather unhappy. "General Radley's very deaf."

  "I don't think it will be necessary to make it too formal," said Chief Inspector Davy. "We don't want to worry people. You can leave it quite safely to us. Just point out those two you mentioned. There is just a chance you know, that Canon Pennyfather might have mentioned some plan of his, or some person he was going to meet at Lucerne or who was going with him to Lucerne. Anyway, it's worth trying."

  Mr. Humfries looked somewhat relieved. "Nothing more we can do for you?" he asked. "I'm sure you understand that we wish to help you in every way, only you do understand how we feel about any press publicity."

  "Quite," said Inspector Campbell.

  "And I'll just have a word with the chambermaid," said Father.

  "Certainly, if you like. I doubt very much whether she can tell you anything."

  "Probably not. But there might be some detail- some remark the canon made about a letter or an appointment. One never knows."

  Mr. Humfries glanced at his watch. "She'll be on duty at six," he said. "Second floor. Perhaps in the meantime, you'd care for tea?"

  "Suits me," said Father promptly.

  They left the office together.

  Miss Gorringe said, "General Radley will be in the smoking room. The first room down that passage on the left. He'll be in front of the fire there with The Times. I think," she added discreetly, "he might be asleep. You're sure you don't want me to-"

  "No, no, I'll see to it," said Father. "And what about the other one-the old lady?"

  "She's sitting over there, by the fireplace," said Miss Gorringe.

  "The one with white fluffy hair and the knitting?" said Father, taking a look. "Might almost be on the stage, mightn't she? Everybody's universal greataunt."

  "Great aunts aren't much like that nowadays," said Miss Gorringe, "nor grandmothers nor great-grand-mothers, if it comes to that. We had the Marchioness of Barlowe in yesterday. She's a great-grandmother. Honestly, I didn't know her when she came in. Just back from Paris. Her face a mask of pink and white and her hair platinum blonde and I suppose an entirely false figure, but it looked wonderful."

  "Ah," said Father, "I prefer the old-fashioned kind myself. Well, thank you, ma'am." He turned to Campbell. "I'll look after it, shall I, sir? I know you've got an important appointment."

  "That's right," said Campbell, taking his cue. "I don't suppose anything much will come of it, but it's worth trying."

  Mr. Humfries disappeared into his inner sanctum, saying as he did so, "Miss Gorringe-just a moment, please."

  Miss Gorringe followed him in and shut the door behind her.

  Humfries was walking up and down. "What do they want to see Rose for?" he demanded sharply. "Wadell asked all the necessary questions."

  "I suppose it's just routine," said Miss Gorringe, doubtfully.

  "You'd better have a word with her first."

  Miss Gorringe looked a little startled. "But surely Inspector Campbell-"

  "Oh, I'm not worried about Campbell. It's the other one. Do you know who he is?"

  "I don't think he gave his name. Sergeant of some kind, I suppose. He looks rather a yokel."

  "Yokel my foot," said Mr. Humfries, abandoning his elegance. "That's Chief Inspector Davy, an old fox if there ever was one. They think a lot of him at the Yard. I'd like to know what he's doing here, nosing about and playing the genial hick. I don't like it at all."

  "You can't think-"

  "I don't know what to think. But I tell you I don't like it. Did he ask to see anyone else besides Rose?"

  "I think he's going to have a word with Henry."

  Mr. Humfries laughed. Miss Gorringe laughed too.

  "We needn't worry about Henry."

  "No, indeed."

  "And the visitors who knew Canon Pennyfather?"

  Mr. Humfries laughed again.

  "I wish him joy of old Radley. He'll have to shout the place down and then he won't get anything worth having. He's welcome to Radley and that funny old hen, Miss Marple. All the same, I don't much like his poking his nose in…"

  14
r />   "You know," said Chief Inspector Davy thoughtfully, "I don't much like that chap Humfries."

  "Think there's something wrong with him?" asked Campbell.

  "Well-" Father sounded apologetic, "you know the sort of feeling one gets. Smarmy sort of chap. I wonder if he's the owner or only manager."

  "I could ask him." Campbell took a step back towards the desk.

  "No, don't ask him," said Father. "Just find out- quietly."

  Campbell looked at him curiously. "What's on your mind, sir?"

  "Nothing in particular," said Father. "I just think I'd like to have a good deal more information about this place. I'd like to know who is behind it, what its financial status is. All that sort of thing."

  Campbell shook his head. "I should have said if there was one place in London that was absolutely above suspicion-"

  "I know, I know," said Father. "And what a useful thing it is to have that reputation!"

  Campbell shook his head again and left. Father went down the passage to the smoking room. General Radley was just waking up. The Times had slipped from his knees and disintegrated slightly. Father picked it up and reassembled the sheets and handed it to him.

  "Thank ye, sir. Very kind," said General Radley gruffly.

  "General Radley?"

  "Yes."

  "You'll excuse me," said Father, raising his voice, "but I want to speak to you about Canon Pennyfather."

  "Eh-what's that?" The general approached a hand to his ear.

  "Canon Pennyfather," bellowed Father.

  "My father? Dead years ago."

  "Canon Penny-father."

  "Oh. What about him? Saw him the other day. He was staying here."

  "There was an address he was going to give me. Said he'd leave it with you."

  This was rather more difficult to get over but he succeeded in the end.

  "Never gave me any address. Must have mixed me up with somebody else. Muddle-headed old fool. Always was. Scholarly sort of chap, you know. They're always absent-minded."

  Father persevered for a little longer but soon decided that conversation with General Radley was practically impossible and almost certainly unprofitable. He went and sat down in the lounge at a table adjacent to that of Miss Jane Marple.