‘None of us really held out much hope.’
‘We were all wrong. To begin with, Dufays was nothing to do with any of their intelligence organisations. He spent his whole career in the French finance ministry.’
‘Was he still employed there when he died?’
‘That was the other surprise, Inspector. He’s not dead. Alphonse Dufays retired from government service three years ago. His sense of timing was admirable. He left just before war broke out. Given what’s happened since,’ said the commissioner, ‘he’s probably glad to be clear of the chaos that must have descended on the financial affairs of France.’
‘Wait a moment,’ said Marmion. ‘Mr and Mrs Farrier were told that Dufays had died. It was the reason that his wife had come to stay with them. She even talked about his funeral.’
‘Then she was obviously lying to them.’
‘If Dufays is still alive, where is he?’
‘I wasn’t given any address, Inspector.’
Marmion thought about the information that Keedy had gleaned from the taxi driver. A Frenchman had more or less pushed a drunken woman into the vehicle.
‘I think I know where he may be at the moment,’ he said.
‘Do you?’
‘Yes, Sir Edward. He’s here in England and I have a feeling that he came for one purpose. Probably against her will, Vesta Lyle has been reunited with her husband.’
Keedy didn’t have long to wait. Seated beside the driver, he watched from the car as Rogan came walking jauntily along the street. When the night porter caught sight of the police car outside his house, he slowed to a more cautious place. Keedy got out of the car to confront him.
‘Good day to you,’ he said.
‘What do you want, Sergeant?’ asked the other, warily.
‘I’ve got a few things to discuss with you.’
‘You’ve already taken two statements from me.’
‘That was to do with the murder. I now want to ask you about something indirectly connected with it.’
‘You’d better come in,’ said Rogan, gruffly.
‘I’d rather stay out here, if you don’t mind.’ Keedy took a step closer. ‘How was Ian Maitland?’
‘Never heard of him.’
‘Your wife told me you’d been to see him. One of you is lying and I don’t think it’s Mrs Rogan. You know full well who Maitland is. He used to work at the Lotus.’
‘Ah,’ said Rogan, ‘I vaguely remember him now.’
‘Then you’ve got a very poor memory,’ said Keedy. ‘You’ve completely forgotten a man you were talking to a little while ago. Let’s try another question.’
‘I’m tired,’ pleaded Rogan. ‘I’ve been up all night.’
‘And how did you spend some of your time? I’ll tell you, in case that’s slipped your memory as well. You went into the room where the murder took place.’
‘That’s not true!’
‘We have a witness.’
‘Then he or she is lying through their teeth.’
‘There was no mistaking who you were. So,’ said Keedy, ‘let’s do without any pointless denials, shall we? It will save us a lot of time.’
Rogan took a moment to consider his position. When he was ready, his manner changed completely. He opted for a degree of honesty.
‘All right,’ he confessed, ‘maybe I did just pop my head in there. Someone like you is used to seeing murder scenes. I’m not. I was curious, that’s all. That’s not a crime, is it? I was only in there for a minute or so.’
‘Hotel guests and staff were forbidden to enter that room.’
‘What harm did I do?’
‘You disobeyed orders,’ said Keedy. ‘Both the manager and Mrs Fleetwood were very upset to hear that. They got in touch with us. That’s why I’m here.’
‘Look, Sergeant, I swear on the grave of my mother that I was doing nothing wrong by putting my head into that room. I couldn’t even see the place properly. Mr Chell had the light bulbs taken away.’
‘I can see why he did that now. It was to thwart people like you.’
‘I’m sorry – okay? I shouldn’t have done it. I’ll apologise to the manager when I go on duty tonight. Now will you please let me get some shut-eye?’ begged Rogan. ‘I’m exhausted.’
‘You haven’t told me about Maitland yet.’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘I rather fancy that there is. Your wife gave me the impression that you were a friend of his. Since you’re so tired, why bother to see him when you’d obviously rather be in bed?’
Rogan yawned. ‘Can I go now, Sergeant – please?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Keedy. ‘When you arrived at work last night, you’d have become aware that somebody had been sending out handbills to former guests of the Lotus. It’s caused Mrs Fleetwood a great deal of anguish. She was bound to ask how the person who had them printed could send them to the correct addresses. We both know the answer to that question, don’t we?’
‘I had nothing to do with it,’ protested Rogan.
‘Then perhaps it was all Maitland’s fault.’
‘He has no connection with the Lotus any more.’
‘Yes, he does. He has a friend who’s the night porter there.’
‘Maitland is … just someone I know.’
‘I think the pair of you are much closer than you’ll admit,’ said Keedy. ‘That’s why I’m taking you to Scotland Yard for questioning.’
‘I can’t go with you,’ shouted Rogan.
‘It’s not an idle request.’
‘What about my wife?’
‘I don’t think we’ll need to trouble her.’
‘Let me at least speak to her.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘Are you saying that I’ve been arrested?’
‘We haven’t got to that stage yet, but it may come. You won’t be lonely, I promise you. When I get back to Scotland Yard, I’ll send someone to fetch Ian Maitland from the Roath Court.’ Keedy’s eyes glinted. ‘Then the three of us can have a nice long, cosy chat.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Harvey Marmion was in his office, poring over the plan of the Lotus Hotel. Knowing where the murder had taken place, he was trying to work out how the killer got to that room and was able to escape the attention of the night porter as he left the building. A new idea began to form slowly in his mind. It put a warm smile on his face.
Claude Chatfield then entered abruptly without bothering to knock.
‘Sergeant Keedy is back,’ he said. ‘He’s brought Rogan with him and is sending someone to get Maitland.’
‘It sounds promising, sir.’
‘He’s established a link between the two men.’
‘Then he’s done well.’
‘I was going to confront Buchanan, but I’ll hold fire now until Keedy has questioned them. He may be able to supply me with ammunition that I can use.’
‘You may need it when you meet Mr Buchanan, sir. I’m told that he’s as slippery as an eel covered in best butter.’
‘Best butter?’ groaned Chatfield. ‘When did we last taste that?’
‘It disappeared along with lots of other things, including a decent glass of beer. I can’t bear to drink it now that it’s been watered. Anyway,’ said Marmion, ‘I just thought I’d pass on the warning about him.’
‘It’s quite unnecessary. I can handle dodgy businessmen.’
‘I’m sure that you can, sir.’
‘You know,’ said Chatfield, thoughtfully, ‘I’ve half a mind to sit in on the interview with the sergeant.’
‘He’s more than capable of handling it on his own,’ said Marmion, eager to give Keedy a free hand. ‘Besides, you have so many other things to do before you tackle Mr Buchanan.’
‘That’s true. I have to see the commissioner first.’
‘Please thank him again for the help he gave us. I never thought he’d find out anything about Alphonse Dufays but he turned up trumps. What he wa
sn’t able to establish, of course, was whether or not Vesta Lyle was working for their secret service. At least we now know that her husband had no link with it.’
‘It’s interesting to hear that Dufays was a financial expert, but who would have thought him capable of murder?’
‘He was not the killer, Superintendent.’
‘He must have been.’
‘I’ve changed my mind about that.’
‘He committed a murder then dragged his wife out of that hotel.’
‘How did he get in there?’ asked Marmion. ‘And how did a man of his age overpower and inject a fatal poison into the victim?’
‘There has to be an explanation for that.’
‘There is, sir, and it’s one we should have considered at the start. I’ve spent ages thinking it over and the conclusion is obvious.’
‘Then why can’t I see it?’
‘The victim was not killed by a jealous husband,’ said Marmion. ‘In fact, she wasn’t killed by a man at all. My belief is that she was murdered by another woman.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘Consider the evidence.’
‘Is any woman capable of doing something like that?’ asked Chatfield, struggling to accept the idea.
‘This one was, sir. And there have been lots of female killers in history. Many of them chose poison as their murder weapon.’
‘I still find it hard to believe.’
‘What’s the most striking thing about the Lotus?’
‘It’s owner – Mrs Fleetwood.’
‘And what was her mission in opening the hotel?’
‘It was specifically for female guests.’
‘There’s our answer and it explains why no man had to force his way into the premises at night. The killer was already there. She was a guest at the Lotus.’
‘That would mean,’ said Chatfield, taking the idea seriously at last, ‘that she’d know in which room Vesta Lyle was staying. She was stalking her. But hold on a moment,’ he added. ‘Only two people were seen leaving the hotel that night – a man and a woman. If the killer really was a female, why didn’t she take the opportunity to escape with them?’
‘That would have drawn attention to her immediately, sir, and we’d have been told that she’d fled the hotel. Once she’d delivered Vesta Lyle to the husband, she retired to bed, stayed the night and probably left after breakfast the following morning without raising the slightest suspicion.’
‘Well done, Inspector! You may have the answer.’
‘The first thing I must do,’ said Marmion, ‘is to check the hotel register. The killer will not be stupid enough to have given her real name, but she’ll have been seen by the manager and probably by Mrs Gosling as well. They’ll be able to provide us with a good description of her.’
‘But how can you pick her out from the register?’
‘Mr Chell can help me to do that. Most of the guests staying there that night are regular patrons and many of them are quite advanced in age. We’re after a younger woman who was able to carry luggage in one hand while helping the inebriated Vesta Lyle along with the other before handing her over to her husband. She’ll stick out a mile.’
‘The woman must be as cool as a cucumber.’
‘She would still have been at the hotel when we arrived. In fact,’ he went on, ‘Sergeant Keedy may even have taken a statement from her.’
‘Then he’d certainly remember her. He has an eye for younger women. Oh,’ said Chatfield, realising, ‘I didn’t mean …’
‘That’s quite all right, sir. He’s calmed down a lot since he knew that I was going to be his father-in-law. Those days are over.’
‘You must get across to the hotel at once, Inspector.’
‘I will, sir. The sergeant will be sorry he can’t come with me.’
‘Don’t worry about him. Keedy has a very important job to do right here at Scotland Yard.’
It was the fourth time that Keedy had interviewed Rogan. The first had been at the Lotus where the night porter had answered the questions a little too confidently for the sergeant’s liking. When he talked to the man in his home, he had Rogan on the defensive and, as a result, there were discrepancies during the second interview. Since the third was in the street outside the house, Rogan had been placed at even more of a disadvantage, concerned that his neighbours would see him being grilled on his doorstep. Keedy wanted to get the preconditions right for what he hoped would be the final confrontation. He therefore left Rogan alone in a bare, featureless interview room while he went off to arrange for Ian Maitland to be picked up as soon as possible.
When he returned to the room, Keedy found the night porter pacing up and down. Jaw tight, he rounded on the sergeant.
‘You’ve got no right to keep me here.’
‘I think you’ll find that I have.’
‘There are no grounds at all for an arrest.’
‘They’ll come in due course, I’m sure.’
‘My wife will be worrying about me.’
‘You told her where you were going before we drove you off. Mrs Rogan knows exactly where you are – if not exactly why.’
‘Listen,’ said the other, modifying his tone, ‘I know that it looks bad, me sneaking into the room. But it’s not as if I was trespassing, is it? I work there.’
‘You did,’ agreed Keedy. ‘I doubt if you ever will again.’
‘Who is the witness?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘It does to me. It matters a lot.’
‘The other charge against you is more serious.’
‘I’d never do anything to hurt Mrs Fleetwood. She gave me the best job I’ve ever had. I’ve told you before. I love the place.’
‘I believe you. The problem is that you didn’t love it enough.’
‘There’s never been any complaint about me.’
‘There are plenty of them now,’ said Keedy. ‘Tell me something. Would you rather be interviewed by me in a quiet room like this or would you prefer to face Mrs Fleetwood and the manager at the hotel? In your shoes, I’d choose to be here.’ He pointed to a chair. ‘Why not sit down?’
After eyeing him with suppressed anger, Rogan eventually took a seat on one side of the little table. Keedy sat opposite him.
‘There,’ he said, ‘that wasn’t too difficult, was it? We can just sit here together in comfort until Ian Maitland joins us. He won’t be long.’
Griselda Fleetwood and Rex Chell were astounded by what they’d been told. It all sounded too improbable to be true. Yet there was no denying the logic behind Marmion’s deductions. The killer had been a guest at the hotel, staying there under a false name and pretending to be there to enjoy its much-vaunted facilities. Griselda feared the worst.
‘This is terrible,’ she said. ‘We harboured a murderess.’
‘You weren’t to know what she was,’ said Marmion.
‘Nobody will ever want to stay here again.’
‘That’s not true at all. When this has blown over, you’ll have a new lease of life as one of London’s premier hotels.’
‘I agree with the inspector,’ said the manager. ‘There will be some bad publicity, but we can rise above it.’
‘I’m not worried about the press,’ she told him. ‘It’s Buchanan that I fear. Imagine how he’ll exploit the fact that we accommodated, fed and pampered a ruthless killer.’
‘You can forget about Mr Buchanan,’ promised Marmion.
‘Why?’
‘The superintendent is going to take him on in person. Now that we have proof that he ordered the printing of those handbills, we can put some real pressure on him.’
‘He must have hired that woman as well, Inspector.’
‘Let’s be realistic, Mrs Fleetwood. I’m afraid that Mr Buchanan had nothing to do with that. The killer was in the pay of a man named Alphonse Dufays. He was the husband of the woman who was staying in the room where the murder occurred.’
‘What was h
is motive, Inspector?’ asked Chell.
‘We’ve yet to find out, sir. And now I must ask for your help.’
‘You want to see the register, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I do, Mr Chell.’
‘Let me save you the time,’ said the manager. ‘The woman you’re after stayed here under the name of Miss Charlotte Browne. Of all the people under this roof that night, she was the one most capable of doing what you believe she did. Miss Browne was younger than anyone else, for a start, and she had great self-assurance. Look at the register, if you wish, but you’ll find nobody else who qualifies as a possible suspect.’
‘Can you give me a description of her, please?’
‘I’ll be happy to do so, Inspector, and I daresay that Mrs Gosling may want to add a few details of her own. I know that she spoke to her when Miss Browne asked what the procedure was in case of a fire. Mrs Gosling took her to the rear of the building to point out the two exits.’
‘That’s fairly conclusive evidence of Miss Browne’s intentions,’ said Marmion.
‘I shudder at the thought that we let this woman stay here,’ wailed Griselda. ‘Our other guests will have seen and perhaps even spoken to this fiend. What are they going to think when they realise that they were breathing the same air as a heartless killer?’
Chell was philosophical. ‘Only time will tell, Mrs Fleetwood.’
‘Criticism of our security could bring us down.’
‘Ah,’ said Marmion, ‘that reminds me. You may need the services of a different night porter. Mr Rogan may be unavoidably detained.’
Alice was about to go back on duty when Inspector Gale swooped down on her and took her aside. The older woman was smiling.
‘I just wanted to thank you,’ she said. ‘Jennifer Jerrold has had second thoughts and decided to stay with us, after all.’
‘That’s excellent news, Inspector.’
‘It’s hardly news to you, is it?’
‘Well …’
‘I fancy that you had something to do with the change of heart.’
The Unseen Hand Page 25
