I was still cold and starting to feel groggy again, so I called for Mrs. Easton to see if she could arrange for some lunch and a coffee. It was nearly noon and all I’d had was a small bowl of cereal. It was time for another carb and caffeine infusion.
Mrs. Eaton came through with a fragrant leek soup, a basket of fresh rolls, and a pot of coffee. Liam ran to her side immediately and started nosing at the treats in her pocket. The old cupboard lover. She gave him a quick pat on the head and left me to my papers.
I continued wading through the pile of information. Oliver was right, Keenan had a background in the military. He’d been with the ground troops in the Iran–Iraq War and did two tours of duty. Several commendations and an honorable discharge. His civilian life seemed to have been mainly work in the whisky trade. He had two DUIs, and his license had been revoked for a time. One charge of GBH—grievous bodily harm—after a pub brawl in Stirling in the late ’90s, but the charges were later withdrawn. Charged more recently with vandalism at Edenburn distillery, likely in the wake of the failed lawsuit. He was a hunter and belonged to the local hunt club. An award-winning marksman. Was he one of those men who had trouble transitioning from wartime to peacetime? Subject to a constant low boiling rage? There was no record of the sexual assault charge. It must have been effectively swept under the rug after the young woman accepted the cash payoff.
Sophie’s story gelled with Mrs. Easton’s summary. Sophie Wilson, down from the north. Been with the Lodge for four years. No record of any kind. Her fiancé was more interesting. Born in England, by age thirteen his mother was on her second husband and Joey had been abandoned into the foster care system. His juvenile record had been sealed, but a note from Matthew indicated it was largely petty theft and truancy. At the age of sixteen he was transferred to a farm facility in Scotland near his grandmother, where he was allowed to work with the animals. He seemed to have thrived in the new environment, winning numerous awards for his skill with dogs. He’d worked for the hunt club at the Lodge as an assistant ghillie for several years before moving to the Gundog Training Academy two years ago when it opened.
Had Joey’s path crossed with Keenan’s at one of the local hunting events? Had Keenan reached out to Joey knowing he worked here before the competition even began? If Michaelson hadn’t found this tidbit of information already, he should have it now. I sent him a text and sat back, munching on one of the hotel’s buttery rolls.
Matthew had done a thorough job. We owed him a bottle of something nice. He’d even run cross-checks looking for links between Keenan, Archie, Richard, and Hugh. The litigation between Keenan, Archie, and Central was the main result, but there were several additional hits on Archie and Richard. One was a police report signed by Archie, Richard, and Hinatu detailing the theft of various items from their respective rooms in college. I’d forgotten that the three of them were at school together. The complaint was filed against one of the college staff and marked UNRESOLVED. The rest were from the local Oxford papers from thirty years ago listing recipients of year-end awards for the various colleges. Archie, Richard, and Hugh were apparently all excellent students.
Liam had moved from the hearth rug to the floor of the bathroom looking miserable. I went and stroked his head. He responded by retching and throwing up. Something in this place wasn’t agreeing with him. I felt his nose and it was warm and dry. A dark thought crossed my mind as I looked into his sad eyes. Someone had failed at drugging me. Could they have switched to trying to poison my dog?
I looked up the symptoms online. Dogs were often poisoned by vaping fluids. The sweet taste was appealing. The symptoms were nausea, vomiting, and lethargy. I’d certainly seen that several times over the past few days. The only place he’d been without me this morning—or any morning, for that matter—was with Joey. Could Joey be trying to distract me from my investigations by drugging Liam? The thought sent a chill up my spine.
* * *
—
Once again in the better-out-than-in department, Liam seemed to rally fairly quickly once he got rid of what was in his stomach. From now on he was staying close by me. I went to look for Sophie and found her next door in Grant’s room, cleaning up.
I stood transfixed, watching her scrub the residual blood from the grout of the bathroom tile. “The police just let us in,” she said sadly. “It’s just tragic.”
I nodded, holding back tears. “I hear the police were talking to you again.”
“Aye, it was scary. They kept on asking for my exact movements between six and eight last night. It’s all there on the key log. I have three floors to deal with. Don’t know how they think I have time to be getting into mischief,” she grumbled.
“Is that all they asked?”
“They kept on about some bloke named Bruce Keenan. Insisted I knew him, but I swear I’ve never heard of him. They didn’t seem to believe me.”
“You’re sure you don’t know him? He’s been around the hotel quite a bit this week.” I pulled up the picture on my phone.
Sophie glanced at the screen from her position on the floor. “That idiot,” she spat out before covering her mouth in alarm. “Shouldn’t have said that. It’s just that he was giving Ethel a hard time the other day. Just wouldn’t let her be. I told her to call security, but she wouldn’t. Said she’d deal with it herself.”
Ethel again. It really was time to pay her a visit. “Any idea where I might find Ethel?”
“I saw her a while ago in the linen cupboard on two,” Sophie said. “She’s a slow mover, so she’s probably still there.”
Liam and I walked down the one flight of stairs and found the linen cupboard Sophie indicated at the end of the hall. I poked my head round the door and saw a young woman unloading a cart full of towels onto the shelves one at a time.
“Excuse me?”
“Ach, you gave me a fright. Didnnae see ye there.”
“Sorry, I’m looking for Ethel.”
“You’ve found ’er,” she replied with a cheery smile.
Young Ethel was short, blond, and somewhat plump with a bosom that could have comforted a goodly number of men.
“What can I do for ye?”
“I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”
“Course ye can. Not sure I can answer. But I’ll do me best.”
“What can you tell me about a man named Bruce Keenan?”
“Who’s ’e?”
“Mid-fifties, brown hair, brown beard and mustache, solidly built.” I pulled up his picture again on my phone.
“Ah, you mean Jacob.” Ethel screwed up her nose for a moment, then gave a rueful smile. “Shoulda guessed that wasnae his real name. He’s nae the type to give a real name.” Ethel looked me up and down. “Yer not ’is wife, are ye?”
“No,” I said. “Oh, absolutely no.”
“I figured ’e was married. You ken the type. All over ye promising big things, then you say alright like and you end up in the backseat of an old Ford.”
“So you did,” I faltered, “spend some time with Bruce—I mean Jacob?”
“Did Mrs. Easton send you?”
“No. And you’re not in trouble,” I assured her. “If anyone’s in trouble, it’s Jacob.”
A slight smile danced at the edge of Ethel’s bright pink lips. “In that case, I met ’im on Tuesday night. ’E was here for the whisky do. I was workin’ a late shift in the laundry. ’E was out back havin’ a cigarette when I came out for me break. ’E was roarin’ drunk. Hardly standin’ up, but ’is hands were still on overdrive. I told ’im to bugger off.”
“But he didn’t?”
“ ’E did that night, but ’e found me next day. I was cleaning up on five and he came out of one of the rooms.”
“Which one?”
“I’m hopeless with memorizing all that stuff. I’m supposed to know all the names, but
I don’t. Followed me on my rounds, makin’ a right nuisance of ’imself.”
My ears pricked up. “Followed you into the guest rooms?”
“Aye, but I kept on pushin’ ’im out.”
Was that when he figured out how easy it would be to slip in and put the vial under the bed in Trevor’s room? Ethel left the doors open more than most, according to Trevor.
“Kept buggin’ me to come out for a drink,” Ethel continued. “I figured I’d be in a world of trouble if Mrs. E saw ’im, so I finally said alright, just to get ’im moved on.”
“Did you go out with him?”
“ ’E showed up at eight o’clock as I was gettin’ off work.”
“This was Wednesday, right?”
Ethel counted backward on her fingers. “That’s right, Wednesday. We went to the pub in the village. Split some fish and chips and ’ad a few drinks. When we left I figured maybe we’d come back ’ere to ’is room. Thought it might be nice to be a guest for a change, and it’d make a real short commute to work.” She laughed.
“But he wasn’t staying at the Lodge.”
Ethel rolled her eyes. “Did a lot of talkin’, that one, never mentioned ’e wasnae stayin’ here. I should’ve known, but ya know how it is.” Ethel giggled. “Next thing you know, we was parkin’ in the woods outside the village. ’E was a charmer. I’ll give him that. Not the way I thought that evening would end, but it wasn’t all bad. ’E could show a girl a good time.”
I moved on, anxious to avoid the details of that encounter. “Can you remember what time you left him?”
“ ’E dropped me home, let’s see, must’ve been around ’alf past eleven.”
“Any idea where he went after that?”
“Didn’t much care. Figured I wouldnae be seein’ ’im again.”
“Did he ask you to do anything you felt, well, uncomfortable about?”
Ethel grinned. “There’s not much a man can ask that makes me feel uncomfortable.”
“No, I mean, he didn’t try to talk you into letting him into any of the guest rooms? Maybe a friend’s room? Might have said he’d left something behind?”
“No. I’d say ’e pretty much only wanted one thing.”
“Did he ask any questions about the brass keys in the office?”
“We don’t use brass keys,” Ethel insisted. “We use plastic cards instead. No need for those old-style keys.”
“Do you always use the cards?”
“Yes.” Ethel looked at me as if I was a bit mad.
“The plastic cards are great for keeping track of guests and staff. Did you know security can see exactly when you go in and out of each room?” I watched her face closely.
Ethel sighed. I’d guess this was news to her. “Man. I’d better get a move on, then. I’ll be in trouble again.”
I pulled a ten-pound note out of my pocket and handed it to Ethel. “Thanks for chatting, but let’s keep it between us girls, alright?”
“You bet,” she said, her smile getting wider. “Anytime.”
I went back to the lobby, hoping to catch Michaelson in his lair. The library door was ajar and I stuck my head inside. It was a tiny jewel of a room with a walnut desk in the window and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves running round the circumference of the space. Under normal circumstances I would have been anxious to dig around, but I was feeling the pressure of time flying past. I stood in the window and looked down at the front lawn. Two children were out chasing each other through the snow. An idyllic scene, an idyllic place, but the horrors of the past few days lingered like a dark cloud over the sun.
As I watched the kids outside the window, my thoughts turned back to Ethel. If she could be believed, she didn’t let Keenan into Archie’s room, but if he left her at eleven thirty in the village, he could’ve made it back to the hotel and been in Archie’s room when I came to the door at just past midnight. I tried to picture Ethel as a possible accomplice, but I had to say I didn’t think Ethel could find her way out of a paper bag with a flashlight, let alone manage to pull off the subtleties of a clandestine operation.
Sophie would be a capable accomplice. She was a bright girl, but according to Michaelson her roommates confirmed that she was home and in bed by ten on the night Archie was killed. That meant someone else was in the room at midnight when I was there. Was it Bruce or Joey? Either of them could have made it in through the window or stolen a brass key, but my presence in the hall must have forced the culprit to retreat through the window, causing him to drop the vial I found the next morning.
It was half past one now and the sand in my mental hourglass was pouring through at an alarming rate. I was drowning in bits information that refused to coalesce into a meaningful pattern. Bruce alone? Bruce and Sophie? Bruce and Joey? We needed something more to tie Keenan to his accomplice.
The concierge was out on the lawn now, directing a group of guests with children to an open space to watch the daily gundog display, a not-so-subtle marketing technique employed by the hotel to get families to sign up for the full program. Joey was back with Thor and Loki, ready to delight the audience with their tricks.
If Joey was Bruce’s accomplice, maybe I wasn’t just being paranoid to think he might be poisoning Liam. If I could establish that he was, that might be the link Michaelson needed. Joey would be busy for about half an hour. This was probably the best chance I’d get to go and get a quick look around the kennels without interruption. Joey was just starting his demonstration. If we hurried, Liam and I could get down to the kennels and back in time.
Liam was happy to be back near his friends, but this time I insisted he stay with me. He whined to go and play, but I pulled him along behind me as I snuck into the long, low building. I scanned the shelves in the kennel area and saw nothing unusual. Liam followed me back to the office. I kept my gloves on and sifted through the papers on Joey’s desk. Vet bills, rifle-cleaning services, food supplies, and medicines. Nothing unexpected there. I rummaged through the drawers. Pens, pencils, heartworm tablets, several extra silent whistles, cigarette papers, and a baggie full of tobacco. I opened it and sniffed. It smelled like pipe tobacco, smooth and rich.
I turned to the storage closet and found fifty-pound bags of food and boxes of treats. Canine pain relievers and flea treatments. I pulled up a chair to look on the top shelf. I had to hurry. It wasn’t a long demonstration, and Joey would be back soon. I ran my hand along the back of the shelf and came upon two plastic bags hidden behind the extra rolls of paper towels. One bag contained a nearly empty glass bottle of pale pink liquid labeled NICOTINE DITARTRATE; the other looked like tobacco again, but a quick sniff let me know it was pot.
A little pot neither surprised nor disturbed me, but the nicotine did. I felt a rush of disappointment. In the back of my mind I’d been irrationally hoping that this was all Keenan, but logically I knew it wasn’t likely. The remaining question was whether Sophie was involved as well. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe it was all Joey. Was that why he was so upset that Sophie was the one being questioned?
Joey certainly had the means to gain access to the hotel, but no motive. Keenan had motive and less means. Together they made a strong suspect, especially if they already had a relationship through the local hunting clubs. With the hidden nicotine, it was too much to deny.
I shoved the bags back into the rear of the closet and put the chair where I’d found it. As I turned to leave, I heard the sound of the main door to the kennel opening. Joey’s demonstration was usually fairly short, but the cold weather must’ve cut it even shorter than usual. I tried to grab hold of Liam’s collar, but he’d heard his friend and he was off. I looked around frantically, but there was no place to hide. I moved behind the open door to the office and prayed Joey wouldn’t come in and shut it. I heard him in the room beyond crooning softly to Balder and Odin as they lay in their kennels. I could hear t
he thud of their tails on the ground.
“Hello, buddy. Where did you come from?” he said, addressing Liam. “Did you follow me down from the hotel? Your mistress won’t be pleased with me.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God. Joey seemed to think Liam had appeared from outside, not inside the kennels. If he hadn’t been busy with Balder and Odin, I would’ve been caught.
I heard the stable doors swing open and Joey encouraged the two older dogs outside for some air. “Come on, Liam,” he called, “you, too.”
Once he was outside with the dogs, I crept into the kennel area and unlocked the side door. Slipping outside, I made my way toward the high brush, making a wide circle away from the building before approaching again from the main path, my heart pounding in my chest.
I ran toward the kennels, calling for Liam. I hated to leave him alone with Joey now, even for a minute.
“He’s here,” Joey said. “Sorry ’bout that. Think he followed me down from the demonstration.”
“No problem,” I said, grabbing Liam by the collar. “Have to run, though. Thanks.”
I dragged Liam away from his playmates and up the path to the Lodge. I couldn’t get him away from there fast enough. Michaelson would not be pleased with me. I had no way of justifying my unsanctioned search of Joey’s office, other than being a worried dog mom. But the results were gold. It could finally be the lead we needed.
Once I was out of earshot of the kennels I dialed Michaelson’s cell.
I thought it was going to voice mail, but Michaelson finally picked up.
“Can I call you back?” he said without preamble.
“It’s really important,” I insisted.
“Then make it quick.”
“Can you find a reason to search the kennels? Joey’s office in particular.”
Michaelson’s response was curt. “Why?”
Deadly Dram Page 24
