Three Bodies in London

by L. A. Nisula

  Mrs. Albright answered the door much as Kate had. “Have you two solved it already?” She managed to avoid looking too disappointed when I explained that we hadn’t and I was hoping putting our minds together would help in that regard. Mrs. Albright invited us in for tea and freshly baked almond cake, and we were soon settled in her kitchen. I started by telling them about the papers I would be typing.

  “It seems like there would be several references to Paddington Station at a travel agent’s office,” Kate offered.

  “I thought so too. But that doesn’t explain the three-three-four reference.”

  “Is there anything in the notes that looks similar?” Mrs. Albright asked. “Maybe we could work back from it.”

  “That’s a good idea, but nothing so far. Although, if I could get a look at some of Mr. Dently’s other notes, perhaps I’d find something.”

  Kate nodded. “While you’re at it, you should see if they abbreviate station like he did in the note. If that’s standard at Billings, it might convince Inspector Wainwright to listen to us.”

  I nodded. “That’s another good idea. None of the notes have mentioned stations so far, only the final destination. But he’d have to have that listed somewhere in his own notes, or in whatever instructions he gives to the clients. They have to have some way of knowing what trains he’s scheduled for them and when they’re leaving.” We seemed to have exhausted the clues I’d brought, so I asked, “What about the other people here? Are any of them good suspects? Or is there anything that might help?”

  Mrs. Albright put down her teacup. “There’s Mr. Dobson in flat B, but he’s a terrible suspect. He’s lived here forever and spends most of his time at the counting house where he works.”

  “And he has an alibi for the time of the murder,” Kate added. “He never left his desk, and it’s visible from several other desks in the office.”

  “And he went to lunch that day with two of his colleagues, so he was never alone long enough to have gotten more than a few feet from the bank.”

  “So we can rule him out, then.” That was disappointing. Another tenant would be a very neat solution to the crime.

  “And there’s Mr. Fowler in flat C,” Kate said. “But he’s been in Southampton since Monday. Although I suppose he could have come back and be staying at a hotel or something.” I could tell she didn’t think much of that theory either, but at least he still sounded like a possible suspect.

  “Where does he work?” Perhaps we could find out from them if he had really been in Southampton, particularly if it had been related to his work.

  “He’s in sales,” Mrs. Albright answered. “I think he makes his own hours. He always seems to be popping in and out as he pleases.”

  So, possibly hard to pin down with an alibi. That could be helpful. If nothing else, it might cast doubt on him.

  It seemed we were just starting to make some progress when we heard a pounding on the front door.

  I wasn’t at all surprised when Kate muttered, “What does he want now?” It sounded like the sort of knock Inspector Wainwright would have.

  “I’ll go,” Mrs. Albright said, getting up. “He probably wants to see me anyway. He keeps asking questions about where I was at the time they think Mr. Dently was murdered. Go on without me. Enjoy your tea.”

  Of course, neither of us was going to do that, so we followed Mrs. Albright out into the entryway. We got there in time to watch her open the door and let Inspector Wainwright in. “Good afternoon, Inspector. Did you have some more questions?” Mrs. Albright managed to make it sound as if he were bothering her in the middle of some very important task.

  “I’ve come to look upstairs.”

  Mrs. Albright snorted at that. “Well, I certainly can’t let you into any of my tenants’ flats.”

  “As I doubt you murdered him in one of the flats, I doubt it will be necessary to examine them at this time. Now, unless you have something to hide...” He was already starting toward the stairs.

  “Fine, but I’m coming with you,” Mrs. Albright said and started following him up the stairs.

  “I’m not having my main suspect follow me while I look for evidence of her crime.”

  I stepped forward. “Then you won’t mind having me along. I don’t live here, and my first visit was after your body was found.”

  Inspector Wainwright glared at me but he seemed to realize that, if he wanted to search the upper floors without argument, he’d have to bring someone along. “Very well.” He started up the stairs without another look at me.

  I hurried to follow him. As I passed her, Kate whispered, “We’ll save you some cake.”

  Inspector Wainwright didn’t exactly wait for me to catch up with him, but he didn’t try to outrun me either. When I got to the first-floor landing, he was standing slightly away from the railing, looking at the door to flat B. At first, I thought I would have to remind him that he wasn’t to go looking in the flats without the tenants’ permission, then I realized he was only looking at the lock. Not examining it as if he were looking for signs it had been picked, just looking to see what kind it was. As he seemed to think it was important, I leaned in to look myself. It was a good locking system, better than the one on Milly’s door, with two locks, one that opened with a simple skeleton key and another that seemed to have mechanical elements to it. I suspected Kate had something to do with the latter.

  I leaned back to look at the rest of the landing, not that there was much to look at. Besides the staircase leading up and the door to flat B, there was a small table that was probably used to hold things meant for flat B when Mr. Dobson was out, another door to what I guessed was a closet of some kind, as there didn’t seem to be room for much else in the space, and a couple of prints on the wall, both of London landmarks. Mrs. Albright had probably gotten a set of them cheap somewhere like Portobello Road.

  Inspector Wainwright looked at the cupboard door for a moment, then seemed to decide that it wasn’t considered part of the flat and opened it. As it hadn’t been locked, I assumed no one would care and didn’t try to stop him. Inside, there were three coats of varying weights, a pair of boots, two umbrellas, and an assortment of brooms and mops. It looked like a cupboard that was used for cleaning supplies and as a coat closet for flat B, probably after Kate had commandeered the downstairs closet. Inspector Wainwright poked around a bit but didn’t seem to find anything interesting as he closed the door quickly and started up to the second floor.

  The landing by flat C was similar to the one below, only the small table held quite a bit of mail and the coat closet was on the opposite wall. Inspector Wainwright checked the locks again then looked in the closet, which had the same sort of things but only one coat instead of three, then started up the stairs again. I followed, wondering what exactly we were doing.

  The inspector started coughing as we approached the fourth floor, badly enough that he had to pause on the landing. Kate’s door was closed, and I hoped locked just in case, but he didn’t move towards the door. Instead, he fumbled around in his pocket and pulled out a wrapped bit of candy, which he unwrapped and slipped into his mouth then smoothed the wrapper and folded it neatly along the edge of the green printing before putting it back into his pocket. From the strong smell of menthol, I realized it was a cough drop. Apparently, he had been expecting to need them. I tried not to stare as he got himself back under control.

  There wasn’t much to look at on this landing. There wasn’t room for a table by the door, so someone had hung a flat-backed basket to hold Kate’s mail and other small deliveries. There wasn’t a coat closet either, just a hat stand in the corner that was empty. Kate must have already packed away most of her coats. By the time I’d looked at all of that, Inspector Wainwright had himself under control again and was starting up the stairs.

  The top floor of the house was attic space. There were four small rooms that had probably been servants’ quarters at some point and I guessed were being used as storage areas for the
flats now, and a large open area that had probably once been divided up in a similar manner. Inspector Wainwright tried one of the doors and found it locked, which relieved me of the dilemma of whether to stop him poking around there or not. If he wanted to have a look, he’d have to ask Mrs. Albright for the keys. I leaned against the stair railing again and looked around. There was a good bit of junk lying about near the doors. Mostly boxes that were probably meant to go inside one of the storage areas but hadn’t quite made it there yet. Not Kate’s, I could tell from the things spilling out of them. Men’s coats and hats and gloves. I wondered which of the tenants had started to change his wardrobe and quit in the middle, and if that mattered.

  Inspector Wainwright glanced over the boxes then paused and picked up a hat that had been sitting on the floor next to the nearest box. He held it up to the light coming through the skylight and studied the inside in a way that seemed much too carefully casual to be quite right. I tried to be as quiet as I could be as I moved to get closer to him and get a look at the hat.

  At first glance, it seemed a perfectly normal hat. Slightly battered, but not to a point where one would get rid of it. A bit odd to find it among things being packed away as it was certainly appropriate for wearing in the current season, but nothing immediately suggestive. No blood, at least. And then I realized what he was looking at. The label inside. And once I knew what he was looking at, it was easy to see why he was interested in the hat. Neatly embroidered on the label was the name “Lewis Dently.” Inspector Wainwright noticed me standing a bit too close to him and glared at me, then took the hat with him to the stairs. I followed at once, my mind rushing through every possibility of how a hat with the victim’s name in it could have gotten into the building. There weren’t as many possibilities as I would have liked.

  As we passed the fourth floor, Inspector Wainwright started coughing again. He paused and dug through his pocket but apparently he didn’t have any more cough drops, and he had to press on without them. When we got to the ground floor, he went straight through to Mrs. Albright’s flat. I followed, wishing I could think of something to make the hat seem less incriminating than it was.

  Mrs. Albright and Kate were back in the kitchen, with tea spread out on the table. Kate motioned for me to take the seat next to her as I came in, and as I didn’t want to be near Inspector Wainwright when he started accusing people, I hurried to join her.

  Inspector Wainwright started to say, “I thought you said you had never seen...” but he’d barely gotten that much out when he started coughing again and was only able to give each of us an accusatory look.

  “Do stop glaring,” Kate said as Inspector Wainwright stood quite still near the empty chair trying to get his cough under enough control to speak again. “You might as well sit down and have something.”

  He got himself under control enough to say, “I’m not in the habit of...” before the speech was spoiled by him coughing again.

  Kate rolled her eyes and poured another cup of tea. “If you’re going to be doing that the whole time, you’ll drive us mad.”

  Inspector Wainwright continued to glare, but the cough meant he really had no choice but to sit down at the table and accept the hot tea. Mrs. Albright shrugged and went to the counter and returned with another piece of cake which she put in front of Inspector Wainwright. It seemed we were going to see if being nice to him might work better than arguing with him.

  Kate glanced over at me and I tried to give her a look that would tell her the results of the search weren’t good. She seemed to understand, as she stabbed her cake with her fork but didn’t eat any of it.

  After several sips of tea, Inspector Wainwright had himself under control again. He lost no time in getting back to the investigation. “Do any of you recognize this?” Inspector Wainwright dropped the hat on the table between Mrs. Albright and Kate.

  Mrs. Albright looked ready to take back the cake she’d offered him. “I thought you weren’t going into any of my tenants’ flats.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.” At least that was what I assumed he’d started to say. He coughed again and had to reach for his cup of tea.

  Kate reached across the table and picked up the hat. Inspector Wainwright didn’t make any move to stop her, which I took to mean he didn’t think there were any clues that could be contaminated. “I haven’t seen anyone here wearing this, although I don’t pay that much attention to what the other people here wear.” She turned and handed it back to Mrs. Albright.

  Mrs. Albright shook her head. “It doesn’t look familiar, but I don’t spend much time looking at my tenants’ clothes either. Now, about my tenants’ flats...”

  “It wasn’t in the flats. It was in the attic.”

  “Well, how would it have gotten up there?” Mrs. Albright asked. “Except for the moving this morning, no one but my tenants have been up there in months, so he wasn’t killed up there. And we already told you he’s never been here. And if he walked out the door without his hat, I would think he would have noticed. You’re certain it’s his?”

  “There’s a label.”

  Mrs. Albright picked up the hat again and looked at the inside. “So there is. Well, if I were foolish enough to keep a hat from a murder victim like this, the first thing I’d have done was tear out the label.”

  That made perfect sense. Before Inspector Wainwright could poke the most obvious hole in it, I pointed out, “And as he wasn’t killed here, there’s no way it could have been accidentally knocked off when it happened and left here. Unless you think Mrs. Albright murdered him in her attic and carried the body all the way downstairs and across town to Fairholt Lane.”

  “If she was going to do that,” Kate added, “why not go all the way and toss him in the river? Then there’d be no trouble at all.”

  I could tell Inspector Wainwright didn’t have an answer for that, as part-way through Kate’s question he decided he did indeed want some of the cake and took a forkful, which prevented him from answering. However, that only gave us more time to think of problems with the theory. I came up with one first. “And why leave it in the attic on top of a box when there are so many locked doors to hide it behind?”

  Mrs. Albright had been thinking as well. “And are you certain it’s even his hat? It’s easy enough to put a label in a hat. Do you have a description of his hat?”

  Kate added, “And even if it was his hat at some point, how do you know he still had it? He could have given it to some church bazaar and someone else bought it. Even someone who lives here. There are two gentlemen, after all.” From the way she and Mrs. Albright avoided looking at each other, I could tell that was not a likely possibility.

  Inspector Wainwright pushed away his barely eaten cake. “Fine, I won’t arrest anyone at the moment. But, Agnes Albright, you are not to leave town, am I clear?”

  “As if I were going anyplace,” Mrs. Albright snapped back.

  Inspector Wainwright looked like he wanted to have the last word but thought the better of it. He got to his feet, picked up the hat, and walked out of the kitchen.

  I wasn’t about to allow him to leave peacefully after accusing Mrs. Albright of murder, particularly after we’d been nice enough to offer him tea and cake, so I immediately got to my feet and followed him out. “What proof do you have that she’s involved other than a hat that even you have to admit means nothing?”

  “It doesn’t mean nothing, Miss Pengear. And if I had concrete proof of her guilt, I’d be arresting her right now.”

  “Then why accuse her of it at all?”

  He didn’t turn away from the coat rack where he was retrieving his things. “Because the facts all point to her.”

  “Only because you’ve stopped looking anywhere else. The note could very well be referring to Paddington Station.”

  “Where there is no three-three-four. I believe we’ve been over that multiple times. Unless you’ve found some mysterious train that leaves at thirty-four minutes past three in
the morning?”

  “It doesn’t have to refer to a train. Or perhaps the two things aren’t related. Paddington could have been one note and the ‘St’ part of something else. St. Pancras, for a start. There’s a train station there.” That had been a random thought, but it seemed like a good one. Perhaps the 334 referred to a third place. The name of a pub, those were sometimes quite odd. Arguing with Inspector Wainwright seemed to be producing some new ideas, at least, so I followed him to the front door. Hopefully, it would spark some new ideas in him as well, ones that pointed away from Mrs. Albright.

  “You forgot your hat,” Inspector Wainwright snapped as he walked out without turning around.

  Not much in the way of a retort, I thought, not up to his usual standard. I followed him out. “I didn’t think you’d wait while I went for it. Are there any pubs named something like Three-Three-Four? Or hotels?”

  Inspector Wainwright paused on the sidewalk. “Ridiculous name for one. I’d think we’d remember if there was, particularly if it was somewhere as well-traveled as a train station. And it doesn’t change the fact that Mrs. Albright has no alibi and had the victim’s hat in her possession.”

  “In her attic, not her possession, and she didn’t know it was there.”

  Inspector Wainwright seemed to be trying something new, ignoring me completely. Not that it would work. Still, he turned towards Baker Street without saying a word. I went down the last step to the sidewalk, ready to come up with some other hole in his theory.

  I was still trying to come up with a new argument about to continue arguing with him, when Inspector Wainwright stepped back and grabbed the end of the stair rail, looking dizzy. I was going to ask him rather sarcastically if he was about to faint when he eased himself down onto the step and I realized something was actually wrong. “Are you all right?”